Elemental Harmonics I: Wind (Cleansing the Earth)

[Creatia]

"M-my eyes hurt a bit..."

From the Nexus (yes, that's what the white world was called) to the Tangled Green was a simple enough trip: cross the portal. Now that Creatia had left the area, she was starting to get used to the natural lighting again. "Ugh..." She rubbed her eyes and squinted, just in time to see the mahogany bark before she smacked into it. "Ow...!" ...Now that's two things to soothe... Taking the time to stop, relax her eyes, and tend to her minor aches, she got a better view of the area past the large tree.

Nature. Nothing but grasses following the wisps of the winds and trees shading the entangled flora that grew without much interferance. A few buildings far off in the distance were laced with ivy. It was green everywhere, like emeralds in the sun. Creatia awed at the lush new pastures she had found herself in. Her luck seemed to be in her favor; she adored areas like this. As she moved past the tree, more of the forest came into view... And she frowned. Not too far off from the field of trees were barren lands, smoke rising from the very tops of the burnt dirt piles. Gnarled and ashen trunks dotted the blackened wastelands. The stark contrast of the lifeless remains next to the groves of vibrant life hurt her a little.; it reminded her of her old home. And yet that was far off in the past. She was in a new world, a new place. I... Just have to think of it like going on a new mission...

She was still lost however. She needed to know what this place was, if there were cities or towns nearby, or if there was at least some safe haven to take shelter in for the while. Her eyes felt much better after taking a better look at her surroundings, yet her head still hurt a bit. Shrugging it off, she began her walk down a well-beaten pathway. After an estimated thirty minutes of walking, she passed by a group of elves making their way past her towards the burned down area she viewed a while ago. A few were carrying supplies; two were dragging a cart along filled with bags of seed. One was giving directions to a few stragglers in the procession. Natives! They might know where I am.

Approaching them with her usual shy demeanor, she cleared her throat. "U-uhm, excuse me..." she started.

The elf giving orders stopped, tilting his glasses against the bridge of his upturned nose. "Another volunteer?" He mused towards Creatia. Wrapped in green robes that were cinched by a white belt, he had the same sinewy build as the others. He was a rather tall one compared to the rest, towering over the witch's frame with ease. His intense red eyes studied her with scrutiny. "You're a frail one, though..." he noted, brushing a blond strand of hair behind his pointed ear, "But we need all the help we can get!"

"W-wait, that's not what-" she was interrupted with a stack of books being dropped into her hands. "Whoa!" Stumbling against her swaying ankles and shifting feet, she puffed up her cheeks as she made a halfway decent attempt at keeping her balance.

"Come now, we can't keep Miss Melody waiting. She needs these supplies delivered by afternoon's start!" Grabbing Creatia's arm, he led the confused magus along with him. Some of the other elves were already chuckling at their newest 'volunteer's' attempt to keep up with their leader's stride.

"Looks like Michael's hooked another one..."

"Poor girl, she never stood a chance."

[Creatia]

"Now, after we deliver these goods to Miss Melody..."

"U-uhm, mister..." The books were starting to get a little heavy.

"We have to make a stop in Ambrosia and pay our respects to the princess..."

Princess? "Mi-mister?"

"Oh!" The elf turned to address the group while leading the witch along, "And one of you lot needs to remind me to write a letter for the ninja village's hokage. They need to allow us safe passage to the Animus River."

Ninjas?! Creatia couldn't take the weight of the tomes or the confusion anymore. "Mister!!"

"M'yes, little one?" It had been like this for a few minutes now: he was telling the lost witch about their schedule under the assumption that she was a volunteer. In the meantime, her arms were starting to strain from carrying the stack of books and scrolls. She was hating every second of this, at least until now.

A little relief relaxed her face. She had finally gotten the man's attention. "...W-who are you? And-"

"Ah, pardon my manners. I am Michael, of the Gaineswind tribe. I lead this bunch of..." He turned towards his current caravan with a disdainful eye, "...Layabouts in our mutual efforts to revive the Scorched Grove."

The group gave their various greetings to the newcomer, some snickering at her lost expression towards the elf before she asked quietly, "'The Scorched G-Grove?'"

A wary eyebrow was raised. "Child, you do not know what the Grove is?"

Creatia frowned at the man. "I-I don't know... What this, this place in general is...!" As she said this, her arms started to wobble again, reminding her of the pile she held. Her frown deepened; she really hated carrying heavy things.

"Ah, I see... New Prime?" A smile reached his lips; this information was definitely of use to him. "Well then... Let me be the first to welcome you to the Tangled Green." Michael wrapped a hand around the unamused mage's shoulder. "I assure you, you've chosen one of the best places in the Omniverse to reside!"

"R-reside?" That wasn't even on Creatia's mind. However, the man did bring up a very good point: where was she going to stay?

"Of course reside! Dear child, you're much too young to wander off on your own. Such a fragile thing you are, yes..." Some of the volunteers coughed and gagged at the man's efforts to woo the involuntary recruit, which was met with Michael's harsh and gritting glare to silence them.

"I-I'm not-" She was cut off yet again. Creatia's cheeked puffed up to show her displeasure as the man spoke yet again.

"Tell you what, help me with the day's work, and I'll show you some of the best places in the Tangled Green to stay!" He clasped a hand underneath his chin as he thought out loud, "Of course, my home is always an option... But of course then I'd have to..."

Creatia was nearing her wit's end as his ceaseless prattling continued. I just want to know where I am! How did I get pulled into this? Creatia decided to try reasoning with the man one more time. "M-mr... Michael, is it?"

He stopped once he heard his name. At least that was one good way to settle him down, which was always a bright side. "Yes?"

"Can you, uhm... A-at least tell me everything you, uh, you know about where I can go f-from here? I-Including uhm..." What did that one man called it? "...Gates! That's it, including gates. I..." She paused to shift her arms a bit underneath the large tomes. "If... if you can do that, then I'll... I'll help you w-with whatever you need today..."

"Oh, you need a guide to the Green! Sweet child, you've chosen the right man for the job!" Everyone else in the group groaned in exasperation; what had the girl done?

"You lot hush!" He turned to snap at his hecklers, his nose upturned and scrunched to show his clear distaste, "Unless any of you wish to accompany the poor thing, you'd do right to hold your wagging tongues and keep moving! And make sure not to drop the seed bags! Useless tripe, all of you..."

His face smoothed to a pleasing sight as he addressed Creatia, "Child, you have a deal: aid me with Miss Melody's work, and I'll be your charming guide to the Tangled Green! A pleasure to work with you, Miss...?" Crimson eyes sought to meet with green as they waited for a name.

"C-Creatia. Miss Creatia Weatherly."

"Weatherly... Now where have I heard than name before?" He shrugged the thought away with a simple hand flourish, "I'm sure it'll come back to me! Now then..." He called out toward the rest of the elves, "Onward! We're losing daylight! It's not even 11 and we're nowhere close to the Grove. Move those lazy bones of yours!"

Without a second thought, he continued his brisk pace, tugging Creatia along as he continued to talk about various things to the ageless woman while barking orders at the other elves to move. Creatia was halfway listening to the man; something was bothering her just a little.

How has he heard of my family name? ...Hmm, he must be mistaken for another tribe named Weatherly. Her arms tensed again; she had forgotten she was still toting those books of his. She silently sighed.

This was going to be a long journey.

[Creatia]

After an hour or so of traveling speckled with various pauses --some for Michael to bark at the others to catch up with his pace, others to round up a straggler that wandered off, and one actual break filled with friendly song and chatter-- Creatia had gotten a bit more used to the wayward elves and their talkative diva of a leader. Along the way, she had learned some rather useful and... questionable tidbits about the red-eyed elf himself: he was a remarkably sharp archer, had a side job as an apothecary's aide in Yggdrasil (which he described as a giant tree city filled with elves), and came from a place called the Vasty Deep. That particular fact warranted another long-winded tale about true love between his mother and a pirate, eloping, and being born on a cold December eve.

"And I met these lazy ones during a trek to gather healing herbs around the World Tree. Their old leader had died of the gout, you see, and were looking for a new head to help them with the Grove. I had a very, very busy schedule, you see, but I was kind enough to take the reins! And thus here I am to this day," he said.

One member interjected, "More like ye begged us to tag along!"

"Yeah, we didn't need a leader at first..." Another one remarked. Hearing this, Creatia blinked. Then why would they still listen to him?

"Is that so?" Michael huffed, "Were you lot not saying I ran this group much better than your old leader did?"

A small murmur of agreement and nodding heads trailed cautiously through the procession. He held his head higher in response as he addressed the others. "Then I don't see what the problem is."

"The problem here is your attitude, Michael," a new voice spoke a few feet ahead of them. Everyone's attention turned to the source of the defiant tone before kneeling in respect. The man in question paused before bowing his own head in reverence to a tall older woman a few steps ahead of them.

Her faintly wrinkled expression was vague with a strange combination of serenity and stoicism. Smoky eyes shielded by lengthy silver hair and thick elderly frames locked onto the bespectacled blonde elf. Based on her cold greeting, she was none too pleased to see him.

"Enchantress Melody," he muttered solemnly to the new face. Was she that important to silence his mouth so quickly?

"You've yet to change since you've started working under me, Michael," she mused aloud before approaching the small group. Her loose white robes rustling against her form, tied in place with a red sash. Some of her hair fell from the confines of her green hood as she scolded him again.

"Be grateful your work ethic is bar none, or this would be your last trip to the Grove. I need all the hands I can get." He shuddered and tensed under her harsh words, but said nothing. Her glance then carried over to the newcomer struggling with the books, some interest glowing in her wizened eyes. "And who is this one?" She motioned to Creatia.

"Oh! Uh, I'm..."

"A Miss Creatia Weatherly, Miss Melody. She's a new Prime," Michael intruded unabashedly before raising his posture to its usual vain and pompous stance.

A simple tch clicked from the enchantress's lips before moving towards the mage; with a graceful swoop of her robed arms, she relieved her of the tomes and scrolls. "A new Prime? I see... Tell me child, what do you know about this world?"

Glad of the heavy cargo being lifted from her arms at last, she spoke with some initial awkwardness, trying to remember what she had learned so far, "Well, I know that... There are, there are 8 verses... And uhm... Oh, I c-can create anything that I, uh, I wish! And... Om... Omni d-dropped me here..."

Melody merely nodded along to the witch's explanation. "Base knowledge then. Things all Primes should know. Very well," She gave a moment's thought to her next few words, giving Creatia a calm but scrutinizing gaze beneath her glasses, "...As you can see, the fields far ahead of you are barren of any life other than floating ash and soot. Clearly it wasn't like that before, yet..."

Her vocal range took on hints of something more ominous and foreboding: "Months have passed, and not a single root has budded with new growth. I felt that more... unearthly powers have come into play here. So I chose to investigate."

Turning to face the depressing scenery far in the distance, she continued, "Many more fortnights of research, examination, and attempts to revive the Grove... And nothing except a growing theory came from my efforts. I fear that... Blight may have taken root in the soil."

A dense and worrying silence fell over the caravan of volunteers and the enchantress. Creatia was the first to break it with a question.

"W-what's blight, uh, exactly?" She asked. She had an idea of what blight could mean in other worlds. But here in the Omniverse, the same word could mean a very different thing: monsters, magic, or simply a deadly virus or a strange sort of fungi.

The arcane user confirmed one of those many possibilities. "The blight is a corrupted and virulent disease... Settling its spores into flora sees them wasting away, and once docile creatures mutate into vile and mindless beasts.

"Nowadays, the virus is located far off from here in an area called the Blighted Dell. But after a fire burned down this bit of the Green, traces of old Blight were found in the soil. I believe that may be why new greenery will not grow in the Grove. It's a less venomous strain than the usual, so the tainted soil may be healed with the right materials."

As she faced Creatia, Michael, and the rest of the elves with weary eyes, she finished her story. "Which is why I've employed these people and many others as volunteers to help gather them for me. But... Only so much can be done before we have to reach out to Camelot once more for aid."

The prideful male in green chimed in at last, his voice bitter and sputtering, "M-My lady, Camelot is not needed, I assure you! The Tangled Green has always held our own without them, and, and-"

"Hush, child, you are still young and clueless!" Melody snapped, "No younger than this wee one at best. The ties between Camelot and the Greens are decent enough to keep us alive. If not for their aid, we'd be a lawless jungle canopy!"

Creatia kept a short snicker between her teeth, yet a bit miffed that she was still mistaken as a young child. It was kind of ironic to see the haughty male being dismissed and talked down to so easily. But when Michael lowered his head in defeat, she held her tongue out of kindness.

She assumed the situation as a typical supply mission: something she could do in no time. All she needed was her potions- Wait. It struck Creatia that she didn't have her bag containing her potions and grimoire; it was dropped along with her headphones when she fell from her homeworld. And I still don't have a weapon... But these people need help. And I need something to do.

Going on without her usual protection warrented suicide, but... she was in a forest. Herbs for her potionwork could be easily obtained here and remade, and the basics of her grimoire rewritten from scratch as well. What better way to start her work anew than by helping Melody with her own tasks?

"So, uh... M-miss Melody?" Creatia started, "W-What do you, do you need in terms of m-materials? ...M-maybe I can... I can help!"

Melody looked down to the hopeful mage, a bit taken aback by her offer but pleased nonetheless. "Are you sure?"

A cheerful smile broke on her cheeks as she replied, "O-of course I'm sure! I used to be a... A potion mage back home. I'm a pretty g-good gatherer!" This new information brought Michael's eyes to the witch with renewed intrigue. Standing up straighter, he listened carefully to the conversation between the two arcane users.

"So you say. Hmm...." A thin and calloused hand rose to reach into her robes, rummaging for something as she spoke, "I'll be the judge of that. Ah." With a quick motion, a scroll was taken from the folds and opened to reveal its written contents. Scanning the parchment, she shook her head once in approval.

"These are the materials that I need," Melody explained, flipping the sheet around so Creatia could read it, "Seeing as most of the items on this list are already covered by your acquaintance there..." An unamused glance was briefly shot to Micheal, who smirked with pride, "I only need one item. Your choice."

Leaning closer to the piece of paper for a better look, Creatia noted each item to herself. Parchment, Malefax Beetle, Acorns... Hmm? Then one item caught her eye. "W-what about this... Dark W-Water?"

"Ah, a difficult one. Dark Water is found only in the more remote areas of the Animus River... Naturally darker than the usual brilliant blues of the river, it's claimed to have many nutrients the rest of the Animus doesn't have." She rolled up the scroll. "If you mean to try for that one, I wouldn't expect to finish the task in a mere day..."

"Good." Her initial answer confused the enchantress. "It, uhm... gives me time to... To.. get used to the Green... And g-gather herbs for my potions..."

"Understood... However, it'd be unwise to travel now. It's late afternoon; by the time you near a part of the Animus, it will be nightfall. And the orcs are more... Primal during the night."

Orcs? Creatia gulped at the thought, earning a short chuckle from the elder mage. "Worry not, dear child. You..." She forced the next name out, "Michael, and his group can rest at my home for the night. No charge for volunteers."

The potion magus sighed in relief at the news, before Micheal snaked his arm around her shoulder again. "Dear Miss Creatia, it's a rarity to be accepted so readily by Lady Melody..." He sang with high praise in his tone, "I knew I saw something in you when we first met, hmm?"

"Meep," was Creatia's only response, her hat tumbled over half of her face to hide her embarrassed look. Was he always this forward? She hoped not for her own sake.

"Micheal. Release the girl, gather your crew, and follow me," Melody ordered, an apologetic gaze given to the shy witch as he reluctantly complied to her request. She motioned the girl to walk closer to her side and away from the elf before leading the small crowd through the greenery.

She could only smile back in gratitude. Maybe when they've settled for the night, she could ask her how exactly to keep Michael under control if he still meant to travel with her. She's definitely more experienced with him than I am... Or at least I hope so.

[Creatia]

The arriving evening was pale with a few final flecks of sunlight peeking through the treetops. It was a short walk to Melody's home, but enough information was given along the way to know where to start looking for Dark Water. The enchantress also mentioned that orc settlements were camped along the river and they were none too friendly to outsiders (or anyone in the Tangled Green for that matter.) This warning initially had Creatia unnerved, but Michael "reassured" her that she wouldn't be traveling alone; if there was one thing missing that the elves didn't deliver, they all had to search for it together anyway. She didn't know whether to feel relieved or even more nervous about that. At least she had other people by her side in this... but she still felt it in her best interest to find and collect the water without them. And to find things on her own, she needed a way to protect herself. She needed a weapon.

Moving a low-hanging palm branch aside, Melody motioned everyone else ahead of her. "It's up ahead." Giving a nod of appreciation, Creatia meekly stepped past the older woman and continued down the damp grasses towards an old pathway past the bushes and vines. The branch must've been there to help hide the well-trodden dirt and grass from outsiders. The path soon stretched into a small break in the woods, with a cottage settled near the edge of the short clearing. Other than the window shutters being in disrepair against the panes, it seemed like your typical house found in a rural village, complete with a stable stocked with hay and supplies... But no animals.

"Come, make yourselves at home," the elder woman said, leading the way with Creatia in tow. Micheal gave the others command to store the supplies in the stable before following the two females. Creatia noted a garden in passing with a plethora of plants thriving in the soil; most she recognized, with some not familiar to her. The ones that glowed green as the day grew darker caught her attention.

As the enchantress went to opening the door Creatia spoke up. "What are those?" She asked while motioning to the illuminated plants with a finger.

"Hmm? Ah, so you've taken an interest in my Greenwood Blossoms. Those make a nice elixir when combined with another herb or three. "

"'A... an elixir...?'" Her eyes sparked as she continued her questions, "Do they... do they m-mix with, uh... with a-any other h-herbs in particular? T-to make something else, I mean..."

A silver eyebrow was raised, slight attentiveness shown towards the brown-haired Prime. "I don't see why not. Greenwood Blossoms are a multipurpose ingredient for a multitude of staves, potions, and the like."

"I see... C-can you tell me more? I've, uh, I've never s-seen such plants in my... my home world..."

Creatia continued to inquire about the flora and other various forms of Omniverse magic for the next few hours, with Melody humoring her childish exuberance with a few detailed explanations mixed between very simple summaries. In the meantime, they and the elves settled in for the night; various amounts of conversation filled the humble home along with the robust aroma of meat and stew for their dinner. As the stretching night roamed throughout the green, one by one the elves said their goodnights before retiring to the stables, then Michael. Finally Creatia stopped her questions and bid Melody goodnight, content with a basic knowledge of what kinds of magic that the old woman knew of.

Stepping outside into the humid darkness, her footsteps didn't carry her to the stables like everyone else. Creatia chose to wander a short distance away from the house, marking her path in the dirt with very deep etchings from the tips of her shoes. "So, Omnilium is... What those... those pr-pretty strands were in that place called the um... the Nexus," she murmured to herself. Gingerly sitting down in the nearby grasses, she crossed her legs and closed her eyes. Since I used it to recreate my headphones... Maybe... Reaching out her hands, the luminescent streams of colorful light began to coalesce yet again through her fingertips. This time, she had a better idea of what she was doing as she recalled her most used weapon. It shouldn't take as long as the headphones did, right? As she molded and shaped her new weapon via the vision in her mind, she made the mistake to assume she was done and stopped what she was doing midway through the process. As a result, the only thing in her hand proper was an elongated stick with a misshapen lump attached to it. A sheepishly shameful giggle fell from her lips. "Okay... Maybe it might take longer than I thought," she concluded, "Let's give it another try."

Holding the malformed object in her fingertips, she continued her concentration. In the meanwhile, she was unaware that someone had joined her outside and was watching her actions from a distance. The elf Micheal had gotten vaguely worried that the young witch had somehow lost her way to the shed from the enchantress's home. After briefly asking Melody of her whereabouts (and getting whacked with her staff for interrupting her evening meditations, thus leading to a momentary search for his glasses), he had finally caught the girl Prime in the process of utilizing one of the many skills that a secondary like himself couldn't replicate. He had never seen such a thing face to face before, so he kept low, watching Creatia work a short ways away.

Such a awe-inspiring gift... He mused as he glanced at his own fingertips. Nothing I could surely do with any skills or practice. However, that didn't stop the calculating male from scheming up his own plans to ply the naive girl into taking him with her. He had taken a quiet fascination with the prime; her eyes held a spark of adventure to them and obvious newness to the world around her. Micheal on the other hand had been stuck in the Grove for years now. He was indeed helping the enchantress out of kindness, but had recently developed a strong desire to move on. However, traveling on his own with only a bow and a few survival skills could only take him so far before having to turn back, and his "followers" were well set on staying put where they are. He initially pegged Creatia as a meek Prime, maybe one who would settle in the Grove like all the rest of her nature. But hearing of her herbal skill set via eavesdropping on conversations with Melody soon swayed his primary thoughts of her in a different direction...

And seeing the brunette witch hold up a fine and highly decorated spear to be examined cemented that she was indeed unlike others of her mental ilk. She knew how to fight, or at the very least defend herself physically. Why else would she create such a sharp, albeit strange-looking, implement? Either she planned to defend herself while finding a home here, or... She means to move on after tomorrow morning's errand. This may be his chance to leave with a valuable ally by his side after all. Until then, he continued his watch of Creatia while she sliced the air with her newly created naginata, nodding to herself in approval before turning around to find the elf staring at her. Both were taken aback as they discovered each other in the night.

"M-Mr. Micheal! Uhm..." She instinctively held the bladed spear behind her back as her eyes dropped to the ground. "I... I just wanted to... U-uh.... Help you guys out... So I made my, uh, my own w-weapon..." She swayed back and forth nervously before stepping forward, "Is... Is that a... a bad thing, or..."

Recovering as quickly as he was caught spying on the witch girl, his typical smirk held a playful mirth as he addressed her with a fatherly pride, approaching her with his arms spread wide as if to embrace her and the blade she held, "Dear, sweet Miss... Creatia, is it? I've never seen such a young girl with the desire to fight. It really is a refreshing thing to see in this day and age..." The lenses of his glasses lit up in the moonlight as he pressed a slender finger to readjust them on his nose. "Tell me, child, what skills do you have with that weapon? Maybe I could train you? Or I could also find more suitable tutors nearby. I do have my connections, you know... Or you could-"

As he continued to talk her ear off with a slick arm wrapped around her shoulders, they began their short trek back to the stables for a good night's rest. To Creatia, tomorrow was going to be an interesting day... If not one filled with lots of chatter. She knew she had forgotten something during her talks with the enchantress. I forgot to ask Miss Melody if he has an off switch...

[Creatia]

The next morning was alive with chatter and movement. A good majority of the volunteer elves were talking amongst themselves as they began to pack up their belongings in the now empty carts in preparation to set out for the Animus River. Michael seemed to be in higher spirits than usual, at least according to his comrades. But that translated to...

"All right, hurry up! We're burning sunlight! Get your things and let's move, you lagabouts!" Micheal torted, clapping his hands and giving impatient hmphs as he waved a few sleepier volunteers out of the stables.

"But boss, it's six in the morning..." One portly elf complained in a haggard drawl as he yawned and stretched his chubby limbs. "The sun's just rising too..."

"And?! If I had it my way, you all would be up before dawn broke over the horizon, let alone through the trees! Now move your bones! Move!" He snapped, edging the lazier one and his things out with a bit of fuss.

Despite all of the noise, Creatia was still wrapped in a thin blanket, having hidden herself away in a hayloft for the remainder of last night. Yet the morning activity had already started to stir her senses, waking the witch with a start. A quiet, yet strong yawn stretched her cheeks. ...Where am I again? That was the first thought of the morning as she sat there huddled in fabric and straw. She took a minute of blinking and shaking her head while the blond elf shooed the remaining sleepers out into the open air. It was still foggy, but... She needed to get ready for something important. What was it, though...?

Her train of thought snapped in half as the haughty leader approached her. “Ah, there you are! We have a ton of work to get accomplished today, Miss... Creatia, is it? Yes, yes. First, before we even think of hitting the Animus River full force, we need to scope out for any nearby-”

Anything could have hit Creatia while Michael was talking: Where was she again? Who is this man that was talking to her? She was beyond forgetful in the mornings, yet the only thing that came to mind was... her commander. This would be the same time that her real leader would wake her up, shoo her out of bed, and make the frail witch do some running to make her more aware of her surroundings before they had a loud and laughter-filled breakfast with their teammates. But this wasn't Lexi. This wasn't the home base. This wasn't her world... Her eyes watered just in time for Micheal to take a breath mid-sentence, then pause at her sudden change of expression.

“...Dear child, what is wrong? Why are you so upset? Are... Are you not a morning person?” He mused as he examined her weary and homesick glance with a close eye, soon nodding in self-affirmation, “Hmm... Yes, yes, that must be it, isn't it? You're just not used to the morning routine. Wherever you came from, morning may well not exist to you... Well, we're about to change that right around, now aren't we?”

She was then given a harsh tug on her arm, pulling her to her feet. Creatia was still unaware, but awake enough to realize she was being dragged. The light of the incoming dawn stunned her wet eyes with its dazzling rays. “Come now, child, move those gangly legs of yours! It's time to get ready for a new day!”

“Can the day not wait until I k-know what's going on...?” Creatia mumbled to no avail, using her free hand to wipe her face of tears and sleep. The blond-haired diva was not about to let her go, or give her proper instructions for that matter as she was handed a pile of empty sacks and pushed her forward.

“To the cart! We need to load up as many supplies as possible to get through the day!” With another gentle and hasty shove to Creatia's backside, her body started working for her as it always did when given commands in the mornings. Slow, steady steps were taken as she guessed that the bags needed to be piled onto the cart. As she lifted her load onto the vehicle, one of the elves stopped her. It was the same portly elf that was rushed out of the shed earlier.

“Whoa there, kid. I'll take those.” He snapped part of her load out of her hands, tossing them onto the platform without a care. “You need to go and help some of them girlies over there wit' the food supplies. In fact...” He exchanged the rest of the sacks with a few cast iron pans and manually whirled the unaware witch around. “Go take those to 'em. One of th' dumm'r spring chickens left 'em in tha wrong cart last night.”

As the body obeyed, the mind started to catch up via broken thoughts. Okay, so... I'm in the Omniverse. Yes, that's right. And this is the Tangled Green...

In the meanwhile, one of the more elegant females took the pots from her, a coil of rope being its replacement. “Be a dear and take that to Micheal, would you? Lords knows he needs to tighten his head rather than his grip on the caravan...” A few others giggled at the woman's quip as Creatia wandered away again with her renewed load.

...And the elf that woke me up was... Micheal. Find the elf... What did he look like? She didn't have time to answer that question as a more built member of the group snatched up the rope from the sleepy brunette. “Looks like you could use a hand there, hmm? Here.” The feeling of being lifted off of her feet, spun about, and carried away jogged some of her memory, but she still had a bit of trouble getting the gist of where she was. The only thing that snapped her to attention was a freezing splash to her face and eyes.

“Huh?!” She sputtered as a hearty laugh was heard overhead. Her feet were back on the ground, and a bucket filled to the brim with water was nearby. The muscle-bound elf from before stood right in front of her, a wet hand being placed on her shoulder as she was handed the bucket.

“Now that you're done sleepwalking, tote that up to the old witch's place,” he ordered as he patted his damp palm on Creatia's exposed skin. She shivered and pouted at the man, but obeyed regardless. “F-fine,” she stammered, pursing a bit of water against her lips to wet them as her speedier steps carried her and the bucket to Melody's cottage, just in time to catch the sorceress and Micheal talking... Or Melody talking and the caravan leader bowing his head in an eerie mimicry of a scolded and whimpering dog.

“Which is why after you retrieve the dark water, I want you to report straight back to me. No side trips, no excuses. It shouldn't take you more than four days to return.”

“Yes, milady,” Micheal agreed, a hint of bragging pride recovering in his voice, “By the time you retire this evening, we will have already routed the orcs and dipped our finger into the river's basin.”

“Be that as it may...” Melody stopped as Creatia approached the two robed figures. “Ah, Miss... Creatia. Thank you for fetching the cooking water for my meal.” Noting the mage's wet appearance, she frowned slightly. “I see the elves have given you their morning greetings...”

“Uh, y-yes, they have...” Creatia winced while she shook off the chilly cold of the water. “But it's fine! I'm, uh... I'm more awake now...”

“See? Had I not helped you to your feet and have you work, you would still be a-snooze among the hay-bales as we tarried on without you!” Micheal beamed, “T'would be a shame to be forgotten so easily, hmm?” He was clearly pleased with having the witch working. It was better than her sitting on the rolling carts and looking pretty. Even if she is a rather cute thing. Tall for my tastes, but suitable for any strapping chap that fancies a tall young lady... I wonder if she'd let me give her away.

“Micheal!” Melody's call brought the scheming elf back to reality. “Your caravan is ready to leave.” It was a short hint to get him to leave her sight before he could commit to any unseen damage. Curt, but an effective one as he bowed to her.

“Understood. Well, Miss Creatia, let's sally forth into the unknown!” Grabbing the witch by the waist, she was ushered towards the group of volunteers as they waited for Micheal's go ahead to leave.

Melody gave a simple wave to them all, seeing them off from the steps of her home. “I bid you good luck, travelers... Oh, and Micheal,” the sorceress beckoned after getting his attention, “The trees watch over all. Even any transgressions planned in the wilds... I do suggest you watch yourself, little one.”

The younger magic user felt a different kind of shiver at Melody's warning, but Michael seemed to bid it no mind. “You have my word that my group will be led with wisdom and integrity!” he called back before turning to his group and snapping his next command, letting go of Creatia's waist as an afterthought. “Onward, you lazy fools! We're burning the morning light away!”

So much for intergity... But it wasn't like Creatia had a choice. Despite the elf being a snappy and sneaky thing, she felt a familiar presence within him. It was almost comforting in a way. Maybe, just maybe... She could get used to this, if only for a little while until she finished her errand.