The End of a Beginning: The Beginning of an End

[Retane]

Retane rubbed his chin with hid left hand as he thought on what he should do. He couldn't decide. He let out a low sigh rubbing his temple, then down his neck and his other shoulder and upper arm.


As his hand reached his upper arm a marking showed beneath his fingers. It glowed on the green flesh as a light orange color. It was a shield with a prowling wolf as its Sigil.

Retane moved his hand, his eyes raised curiously. He wasn't sure what it was. His hand moved away, a dark smokey mist trailing it. Fear should have took him, but it didn't. Intrigue had set in and he felt in tune with the mist.

It poured from his hand as the sigil continued to glow. Deep in his head the darkness was familiar to him. The wolf emblem, not so much. But curiosity had been piqued.

-"It's the Mark and Sigil of the Lythian Warriors."- A strange voice echoed in his head.


-"Perhaps with your skill you will be able to summon them to your aid"-

He couldn't remember when he had heard the voice, but the words played over and over in his thoughts.

Skill? Summon them? To my aid?

The words meant that he had a skill. He could summon warriors to help him. But how? Perhaps they held the answers to his questions, but how did he summon them?

The Namek watched the black mist Settle above the ground near his feet. He closed his eyes, concentrating on it. He set his jaw firm and imagined the mist in his head.

Perhaps he could shape it? But to what? Who were the Lythian Warriors?

Retane let out a growl. Not a Sigh, but a growl. It was a low feral roar that escaped his lips. It was almost as if he had given his mind a verbal command.

IN his mind the fog started to take shape. First the feet. He sculpted the shadow into hardened boots that ran up the calf. The leggings where scaled armor on top of a strong leather like material. A belt hugged his hips,separating the upper half of the armor. No weapon hung from the hip, but instead, from upside down, crossed scabbards at the center of his lower back.

His joints were well articulated to the point that no movement was hindered, but the warrior was well protected. On top of the shoulders was a helm in the shape of a dragons head.With the visor down you saw the snarling teeth.

Still a cloud of fog needed life. The Namek wondered if he would give the warrior some of his. Maybe just a little. It seemed risky, even if it was possible. Still he had to try.

He focused on the inanimate figure. If only he could make it move. He offered energy to it. He knew he just make it move.

A wolf howled off into the night. The dragon armored warrior folded his arms. His eyes began to glow.

Retane opened his eyes. In front ot him stored a figure similar to what he had depicted in his mind. The warriors armor was smoke grey, and he stood looking away from the Namek.

Retane reached out to touch the Lythian. He was really there. A solid figure.