Day 10, Week 1 - The Step One before the Step One

[Corporal Light]

It didn't take long for Ballad to remember why exactly he despised these things so much.

As he passed through the portal, his feet was immediately lifted off the ground, followed by him being flung forward by a sudden gust of wind. He felt like throwing up several times as he continued spinning around, gravity apparently a foreign concept in that transportation dimension. It certainly didn't help that his entire view was blurred, and it was just icing on the cake for the color of the entire mini-void to consist of solely purple. It was an assault on his eyes just as much as it was an assault on his stomach.

But even as he was floating around at the mercy of whatever laws of physics that governed that strange zone, he couldn't help but save certain segments of it in his mind. At that moment, he had reasoned that that knowledge could've been useful to know though the gunsmith was fairly certain he didn't want to be carrying around memories of the time he nearly heaved while doing several front flips in midair.

Thankfully, by the time he started feeling faint, he saw another color: black. It grew closer as he drew nearer to it before he finally crashed, the jet-black hole enveloping his senses.

--------------------

The gunner slowly slid his eyelids apart, groaning. His face was firmly pressed down onto the soft, cold ground; his unprotected cheeks felt frozen, and he probably would've been sniffling if his scarf had not covered his nose. His stomach no longer felt like it was about to be yanked out of his body, so that was another plus.

Ballad lifted his head off the snow-covered ground, looking around the area the portal had delivered him too.

The landscape was, for the most part, a gigantic, flat snow field. His coat blew upwards; the wind was rather fast and was kicking up snow in every direction, obscuring every intricate detail of the land. The high-pitched whistling that occurred whenever the wind blew past his ears only further inhibited his senses. Before he had even stood up, he had already gotten a sense as to the level of danger the realm housed.

What made it worse was that that was all he could think about.

A place like the Fields did not need any more danger. It did not need any more enemies to fight because the one enemy that everyone could agree was an enemy was the one enemy that you couldn't get rid of. It baffled Ballad trying to figure out how the war between the Dwarves and the Trolls even started. It made literally no sense whatsoever. Exactly what was the point in fighting over a flat piece of snow that was actively trying to get rid of them in the first place? Was there an important element they were fighting over?

The gunsmith shook his head, tightening the scarf around his mouth. At this point, he wasn't sure if the Dwarves or the Trolls even remembered why they were fighting. SPB certainly didn't, else he would've been telling him at that moment. And besides, it didn't matter anymore. If they were going to stop fighting, they would have by the time he figured out one was even happening. But instead, they were going to keep the war going until it had run out of steam. So he was going to add fuel to the fire, and keep adding more until it had sucked out whatever oxygen it could muster and extinguish itself.

But he first had to find the Dwarves.

"These aren't like the zephyrs of Camelot. Suggestions may be necessary, o gunsmith." He said, his tone polite and welcoming.

"First, let's get moving and out of this blizzard. Find shelter." He replied, his eyes shifting to a pale white color before reverting back to yellow. He held his gloved hand out in front of his face, shielding it from the harshness of the weather. He trudged forward, contemplating the potential of replacing his boots with traditional snow shoes as he navigated his way through the blizzard.

--------------------

"This is a rather direful moment for canvassing this."

"It's still fucking important, SPB."

"We appear to be handling our current state of affairs quite effortlessly." He responded in kind, continuing to plod his way through the increasing amount of snow. His other self had been badgering him about the topic of snow shoes for a few minutes, and he had ignored him out of a need to escape the blizzard. His arguments were starting to make more sense, however, especially since the snow beneath him was starting to crawl up his thigh, cramping his legs. Even if he did get out of the blizzard, he wasn't certain if it would be possible to move later on. He wished he could curse himself for his lack of forethought. Information was key, after all.

The wind fought against him, blowing him backwards as he hiked through the snow. The environment seemed determined to drive him into the ground, only getting stronger as each attempt failed. Both of the soldier's hands were in front of his face, and he was visibly grimacing with each step. It was still just as hard to see as it was when they had set foot into the land. It seemed like there was no end in sight.

"I'm not an idiot, SPB. We're gonna die if we don't get one of those things, seriously. I'd much rather want to move fast above the ground rather than lift them ten feet into the air just to take one step." He said through gritted teeth, his voice rough.

After a long pause, he sighed, saying "I know, virescent one. But, as you are well aware, we can't do it here."

"I understand that. I mean-"

A crack loud enough to cover the deafening whistles of the wind interrupted him mid-sentence. He looked down towards his feet, cocking an eyebrow at the ground. His body billowed out smoke as he took a giant leap forward, landing flat on his stomach as the ground where he stood started to split apart.

His heartbeat pumping fast, he carefully stood back up, looking back towards the spot he had stood on moments prior. He was able to make out one distinct feature: a fracture in the ground, with what looked like grey ice.

"Shit.... we're on a lake.... I'm gonna take over for this one, SPB." He whispered, his voice trembling a little as he turned back around, each step being slower and cautious than the last.

[Gwendolyn]

Koal let out a prolonged groan, solely rolling over, onto his left side. His stomach was doing cartwheels at the moment, and he was ninety percent sure that if he looked in a mirror, his face would be green. He placed a hand into the pack snow that was the ground, slowly pushing his upper body off the cold ground. Whatever heat he might've had when he was in the Nexus, was long gone by now, and his chattering teeth were a testament to that fact. ' I am never going to get used to that.' His thoughts, unlike his last trip through the rabbit hole, were not muddled and slow. If anything, the cold seemed to stimulate his brain.

He pushed himself to his knees, taking in the environment around him. Koal let out a breath, the air condensing in front of his face, forming a miniature cloud. It was a large and empty space, if first impressions were anything to go by. A blanket of snow covered the ground, unbroken, as if no-one has passed through here in a long while. Mountain crested on the horizon,like jagged knives thrust into the sky. He took a brief moment to enjoy the scenery, letting his 'gate hangover', pass. The young swordsman narrowed his gaze, focusing on something a great distance away...he thought he had caught a flicker of movement, far out in the white landscape. The strong gusts of wind were being snow into his eyes, however, making it difficult to confirm that thought.

" Might as well investigate." Koal mumbled under his breath, giving his shoulders a noncommittal shrug. He took a soft step forward, testing the ground to see if it would support his weight. The iced-over ground didn't give an inch. Koal set off at a moderate running speed, he wanted to generate some body heat to keep himself from dying of hypothermia. Great things to be thinking about. Koal skin his head, dispelling the graphic images of black fingers and toes from his overactive mind. He narrowed his gaze and focused on the task at hand.

It took Koal a great deal longer to reach his quarry than he thought it would, due to the young man's great deal of curiosity. He often got sidetracked due to something catching his eye,a flicker in his peripheral vision. His latest distraction had been a young snow fox, which Koal has named Alexia. After finally getting the animal to approach him, Lynch had made the mistake of feeding it. The Fox hasn't stopped following him around, no matter what Koal did to try and state the little fucker off. He had even almost killed the poor thing with a near-miss fireball to the head. But in the end, Koal stopped carrying, just trying to find some signs that somone has been out here. He searched for a good thirty minutes, under every snow-covered rock, and in every. Single. God damn snowdrift. Seriously, they were everywhere!

" Wonder if you've seen anybody, recently?" He mused, scratching the small Fox begins its large right ear. At his words, the Fox seemed to perk up, it's flipping wars standing on end. It features his left sleeve in its mouth, tugging fiercely. Yanking his jacket from the animals mouth, he gave it an agitated glare.

" Try that again, and I'll roast you over a campfire, y'hear?" The Fox crouched low, whimpering, but still trying to get his attention. Koal fixed a confused look, not understanding. Alexia took off at a sprint, leading Koal scrambling to catch up. He eventually did, narrowing hiseyes at the scene using of him. It wasn't much, but it was a start. Tracks in the snow. They were light, barely noticeable, but they were there. He let out a small from and noises at the fox. He then sprinted ahead, following the tracks in the snow. The wind was starting to pick up, snow working its way into every little crack and crevice in his clothing. He needed to find whoever he was trying to find, and get out of this, before it got too bad...

[Corporal Light]

Ballad cautiously raised his right foot, placing it a few feet forward, testing the strength of the ground beneath him. Once he was certain it was safe to move forward, he would raise his other leg and place it near his right. He had repeated this painstaking process for about an hour though given the nature of the fields it was unlikely he had gone very far in that timeframe. It was also equally possible that it hadn't been that long at all; given the lack of a visible sun, it was a possibility. It was around the thirty-minute mark that the prospect that he was practically moving at a snail's pace started to creep up, especially since it seemed as if he was no closer to getting out of the snowstorm than he was a while earlier. He turned his head to look over his shoulder, trying to discern how far he had gone.

As he turned his head back around, he caught a glimpse of a small creature bounding towards him. He quickly stopped moving, instinct telling him to reach for his gun. Just as he pulled it out, however, the creature was out of sight, kicking snow up onto his pants as it hopped past him.

The gunsmith growled, swiping his hand across the clothes on his legs. He twisted his head, glaring towards what sounded like a high-pitched, squealing child a fair distance behind him. He shook his head, stuffing his revolver back into the holster inside his coat as the cacophonous yelping grew distant. Whatever the thing was, it howled like a dying snow cat. Shuddering, he kept moving forward.

Thirty more minutes later, the wind finally seemed like it had exhausted all of its energy, calming down. The snow in the air was no longer as thick as it was minutes prior, allowing Ballad to view the new land without hindrance. Not that there was much to look at. To his dismay, it was just more of the same: A desert made of snow. It reminded him of home much more than he would've wanted to. Flatlands as far as the eye could see, with the only variation to the repetitiveness of the land being occasional frozen lakes and oceans. Or at least, it was like that near Frozen Over. One could've easily gotten lost mining for ice out in the wilderness of his world, and be subject to the fate of the predatory snow cats. Very few people were brave enough to venture out and risk facing one, let alone a pack of them.

"I do not think you will test your mettle against any such predators, dear miner. Such a likelihood is astronomical, at best." He told himself, calm and reassuring. He grit his teeth, frowning. He forgot he was sharing memories with a logic spirit.

"Thanks for the kind words. I really need it right now." He responded, his voice oozing sarcasm.

"My apologies. I could not help but be... agog apropos the specimens of your planet. I shall say, for an ice planet, it's ecosystem is comparable to most successful orbs. From observations in your memory banks, it has all an ecosystem could desire. An apex predator, multicellular eukaryotes of the kingdom Plantae, motile organisms anatomically and physiologically dependent on such autographs, obligate carnivores, and-"

"Oh my god, do I need a dictionary just so I can TALK TO YOU?!" Ballad said, raising his voice almost to that of a yell. His eyes glowed white for a few moments before quickly reverting back to yellow.

"My apologies once more, dear companion," He said, with no hint of harm in his voice.

The gunsmith's mouth hung agape, stunned at the complete lack of annoyance or even real emotion in his voice. He was about to respond when his ears caught the sound of yelping once more, this time drawing closer.

"Shit.," he muttered to himself, smoke rising from his arms as he pulled out his gun. He whirled around, pointing it at the animal making the shrill, banshee-like howls.

The small mammal bounded towards him, stopping just a few feet away. It barked incessantly at him, leaping on its hind legs for a second. Its fur was snow-white, and its eyes were stark black. The gunner aimed his pistol at the mammal, thumbing the hammer back. He yelled at it to run along, which caused the animal to flinch, but it made no other movement indicating he was going to leave.

"SPB, what is this thing?" He asked, smoke wrapping around the barrel of his gun as he took a step backward. Even though the tiny animal appeared to be no threat, he had thought the same thing when he met Desco. The last thing he wanted was for the creature to be some vicious beast that could rival a snow cat.

His eyes switched to yellow for a few moments, the smoke dissipating. He chuckled, pulling his gun back as he explained.

"Ballad, you paranoid tomfool, stay your hand. It is merely an arctic vulpine."

"Arctic Vulpine?" He repeated, this time with a hint of uncertainty.

"A winter fox, if you will. It is an omnivore, and it preys on various eukaryotic elements of nature, from berries to fish. It has keen hearing, and it is able to survive in the harsh weather of the Fields thanks to an extensive pelage and low surface area to volume ratio."

"Okay, but why is it shrieking at us like a damn harpy?"

He hesitated, cocking an eyebrow.

"Great... you don't know. Guess there's one way to get it to leave." He said, pulling the trigger.

A loud crack banged from the barrel of his revolver as the bullet sank into the ground near the fox's feet. It hopped backward as it whirled around, fleeing from the soldier while whimpering in fear. Ballad slid open the revolving cylinder of his gun, reaching towards his belt to pull out a bullet. Just as he slid one into a chamber, however, his eyes narrowed as they followed the fox. A fair distance away, a figure was kneeling on his knees, as if to greet the fox like a pup. He had black hair, and his coat resembled that of a typical gangster. That could only mean one thing.

"Koal... Koal fucking Lynch." He muttered, part of his lips rising up to form a smile while the other lowered to form a scowl.

[Gwendolyn]

It was official, Koal hated snow. He was willing to swear that if he went somewhere and dumped all the snow out of his clothing, it would be an amount for the record books. But he trudged on, his narrow slits searching the white landscape for a small white animal. 'I spy with my little eye, something white' His thoughts had a nasty bite to them at this point, he was pretty fed up with walking. Koal failed to notice the small animal charging him, moving at an alarming pace. It tackled him, or tried to at least. It more or less just hit the young man's chest really hard.

The little animal squirmed on the ground, trying to get itself into its feet. Koal, feeling sorry for the little guy, tried to help it by picking it up. It bit him. Hard. Koal let out an exceptionally loud curse, quickly doing the feral young animal to the ground, where it crouched down, ears pressed flat to its head, a loud growl resonating from deep writing the animal's throat. Koal summoned his scythe, and quickly ignited his left arm, the area from the elbow down to the tips of his fingers flaring up into a beautiful blood-red flame. Steeling his nerves, Lynch set off, albeit at a faster pace than before, following the Fox's fresh tracks in the snow.

Koal stopped abruptly, his purple eyes widened in shock. That couldn't be... dear God it was. Ballad. The green gunslingerlook much the same, save for the smoke that seemed to seep from his body. The flames on his left hand stuttered and finally dissipated, the red flame returning to the hell-realm from whence it came. He began to approach his estranged acquaintance, searching his eyes for any sign of emotion, for anything that might help him figure out what was going on. He had definitely changed somehow, but he couldn't quite discern what it was.

The crunching of the snow and ice got quieter and softer as he slowed the movement of his legs. He was close enough to see Ballad in detail now, he definitely looked different, his eyes were a different color. Ugh,it was right at the tip of his tongue...Shit! Koal's head snapped up as he realized what this probably meant. He didn't want to start anything confrontational...yet. " Who do I have the pleasure of speaking to, exactly?"

[Corporal Light]

If anything had changed, it was that animals must've hated Koal a whole lot more than they hated Ballad.

Seeing the winter fox literally dive-bomb into his chest was as amusing for the gunsmith as it was probably annoying for Lynch. The other part of his lips curled into a full smile as he saw the kid try to pick the vulpine up off the ground, getting bitten in the process. He started to chuckle as the kid cursed, but it was subdued as soon as he saw two other new things about him. The first was a long, scythe-like weapon with a five-foot handle that took on the color of silver. The blade on the scythe looked to be made of darkened steel, and its activation created precise cuts in the snow still blowing with the wind. Seeing the gangster holding gave the gunner that he had stolen the weapon from the Grim Reaper. He could feel that kind of energy radiating off of the weapon even from the spot he stood on.

The second was his left arm, or more accurately, what was around it. His hand and elbow were covered entirely in a bright, red flame though it somehow had no effect on Lynch. This fact made little sense to Ballad and caused his other self to watch in curiosity as the fox turned in his direction, growling. There was no reason for the fire to have licked his skin so without so much as a grimace from the kid. Despite his grin, his eyebrows lowered into a frown. If this was what Lynch was capable of, he could be in for a rough ride.

As he drew closer, the gunsmith couldn't help but want to say "Miss me?" in a sarcastic manner as the kid stopped. His widened eyes sold how he felt, and a small part of Ballad felt the same way. What could possibly bring someone like Lynch to a war torn region like the Fields?

He kept his revolver pointed up into the sky as the gangster kid moved a bit closer, looking all over him. He was apparently trying to see what had changed. It hadn't occurred up until that moment that maybe puffing out smoke from your limbs and staring at him wasn't the best of plans, and with a swift motion, he slid his revolver into his holster. As Koal looked back up at him, his eyes reverted to its normal, glowing yellow color, and he was simply standing there with his arms on his front, holding his hands together. His eyes held no hint of malice or even so much as annoyance, and it remained that way even as Lynch tested the waters.

The soldier was more than happy to answer his question. "An inquiry easily answerable, former desperado. I am Ballad." He replied, his tone polite and welcoming, "You need not fret, Lynch. I house no ill intent. Unless, of course, your friend does?"

The gunner smiled behind his crimson scarf, crossing his arms across his chest. "Has the Archdemon of Despair come to slay the virescent inventor, o orphaned individual? If that is so, I beseech you to reconsider. I have business to take care of here in the Fields."

Ballad did not specify exactly what his "business" was, but SPB was already well underway coming up with a variety of things that they could use as an excuse to be there. All except for the actual reason. In the case Koal grew curious, he would have an answer.

[Gwendolyn]

"Big words. Nice. And uh...no, I kinda killed our archdemon friend. Long story." Koal rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, his feet shifting his weight to one side. The green gunsmith seemed very... indifferent to Koal in general, his face showing no emotion whatsoever. " So... How ya been? Good? Good." Koal didn't even wait for a response before rambling on, " I've been great, have you been to the Ashen Plains? Beautiful place, dragons are a little inhospitable. But y'know, shit happens-" Lynch stopped talking, catching himself. He smiled a apologetically at Ballad.

" Sorry. Haven't had any intelligent conversation in a few days. Unless you count a malevolent extension of your soul, or a Sith Lord hell-bent on conquest." He then moved to drop his scythe, and a second before it hit the ground, it dissapeared with a brilliant flash of light.

He then addresed the matter that was gnawing at the back of his mind. " What are you doing here in this cold, inhospitable wasteland?" His words came out in polite tone, and Koal was genuinely curious as to why Ballad was out telling in this frozen landscape. But those were questions for later, a gust of strong wind had just passed through Koal, and that signaled more to come. " As much as I would love to catch up right now, this blizzard is really picking up." Koal ignited his arm again, the maroon flames dancing in the incoming snowstorm, mesmerizing the young adult for a short second.

" If it's all right, I'm going to stick with you for a while, at least until the storm dies down." He didn't even wait for Ballad's answer, instead opting to walk past him. It took Koal s few steps to realize that he didn't know where he was going. He turned around cupping his hand to form a cone around his mouth. " Hey! I uh- I don't know where we're going. Care to enlighten me, good sir?" He was almost blown over by yet another gust of air, snow parking him like a spray of bullets. " Or do you know where we can find some shelter? Cause it's starting to get really bad out here."

[Corporal Light]

So he killed him... the gunner thought to himself, nodding towards his acquaintance. He decided not to give thanks to Lynch for pointing out his more extensive vocabulary, mostly because he didn't believe the kid even understood half of the things he said. Perks of having a logic spirit stuck inside your head.

Ballad kept his mouth closed as Koal continued rambling, his body language doing little to mask his uneasiness. He didn't exactly find a reason to pay attention to the pleasantries the kid gave him, but his posture straightened upon the mention of the Ashen Plains. He looked at the gangster, his eyebrows lowering. He had never heard of such things, and evidently neither had SPB, as he still hesitated to interrupt his former acquaintance. He still did not speak up even as Lynch stopped talking, instead just blankly staring at him.

Is there a reason for this, SPB?

Nothing to fret about, Ballad. Just probing my memory reserves.

For what?

Dragons.

If the shade had been in possession of some other physical being and had said that to him at that moment, the gunsmith would've had no qualms punching him in the face. Instead, he was practically frozen, forced to stand in the harsh cold, waiting for his other self to remember what the creature was. It wouldn't have been so bad if he was still able to move around, but according to the spirit, remembering something that was evidently unfamiliar to him sucked up every ounce of concentration he could muster.

A fault that stuck out like a sore thumb once Koal asked his question.

His first reaction was to open his mouth, but no words came out of it. The gunsmith swiftly looked to the ground, a loud debate going on his head.

I'm almost done! Just give me another moment!

WE DON'T HAVE ANOTHER MOMENT, YOU DUMBASS!

I can feel it! I just need-

We can do it later! Just... fucking say something related to his question!

One of the excuses?

SAY SOMETHING!

"What's a dragon?" He said, seemingly completely ignoring the question followed by a sigh. Thankfully, Lynch did not press the issue any further thanks to a gust of wind that nearly blew both of them off their feet. It was probably one of the first times the gunsmith could say that the weather had served him right for a change. He noticed that his scythe had gone missing as well, but that was something to catch up on later.

For now, he needed to focus on the present. And presently, both he and his estranged "friend" were in the midst of a blizzard.

He slowly turned around, walking forward as the kid stopped to look at him. He hoped he did not notice his lack of an answer to his question. In the case that he did, he gave SPB very strict instructions to give him an excuse as soon as the question was spoken again. The spirit had responded politely though the gunner was put off a bit by his haughtier tone of voice.

"By the contrary, I don't know where we are going." The inventor replied, sounding much more annoyed than before, "However, I do know one thing. Wherever we are going is bound to lead us to a shelter. It is simply natural that way."

[Gwendolyn]

Koal once more shook the accumulating snow and ice crystals from his clothes, letting out an agitated huff. This blizzard was brutal and relentless, and was definitely kicking Koal's ass. If not for his semi-demonic blood and the fire engulfing both his arms, he had no doubt that he would be a popsicle by now. A big, really wierd shaped popsicle. He shivered in slight terror at the thought. He trudged in following Ballad closely, the older lifeform seemed to have no qualms with the weather. He was a lot quieter than Koal remembered, he had barely spoken in the hour or so they had been traveling together, and if he did, it was with some cryptic and confusing answer.

The blizzard speed no signs of letting up anytime soon, and frankly, Koal was exhausted. He had been going nonstop for days now, it was always one thing after another, and not to mention the constant pain he was in. Nihilus might've mended his soul, but it hurt like a bitch. He was currently battling a monster of a migraine, his left hand pressed to the corresponding eye, pressing the small organ with enough force that the young demon feared it might permanently damage it.

His unoccupied right eye scanned the nearby craggy beginnings of these majestic mountains for shelter, assessing each possible with a critical mindset. To small. Not easily defendable. Exposed to the elements. Most likely infested with nasty creatures who kill humans. Nothing seemed suitable to the young man, everything he could spot was flawed in an important way.

His eyes sighted on a cave entrance about fifty feet up the step incline surface of a small mountain, more of a large hill, really. He tapped Ballad's shoulder, letting the flames dissipate from his fingers before doing so. The Gunsmith turned his head, to the side, acknowledging and regarding Koal with a cocked eyebrow. Lynch halted his chin towards the shelter, silently imploring the older gentleman to stop for the day. He didn't dare say this out loud, for fear that he might show weakness. He wouldn't have Ballad think he was an invalid. " What's our next move, Glorious Leader?"

[Corporal Light]

The gunsmith swiped his hand across his torso as Lynch flung snow off of his body. He didn't entirely understand why he was even bothering trying to dust off his clothes, as all it seemed to do was create another spot for the snow to cover. His formally green clothing had changed to pure white, or, at least, white enough that the dark green coloration of his jacket couldn't be considered the primary color from anyone who wasn't already familiar with him. The only article of clothing that had escaped the blizzard's assault was his scarf, which kept its red tint no matter how many pellets landed on it.

Despite the snowstorm's incessant attempts to beat the duo down, the gunner did not feel tired or as if he was in any real danger. He had lived in a world just like the Fields all of his life, so he knew all he needed to know about how to survive in it. Even the blizzard paled in comparison to the more gigantic, almost apocalyptic storms that ravaged his planet at several points in his life. He supposed a lifetime of experience in the harsh, piercing cold where only the most ingenious, toughest, and intelligent lifeforms could stand a chance to survive could make anything look like a walk in the park. He cracked a smile behind his crimson scarf. He had survived much worse than what the elements of the realm were throwing at him that it was kind of embarrassing, if not borderline anticlimactic after all he had gone through to get this far. He had no doubts that he would be able to succeed, or, at least, get close, on his mission in the Fields. Especially if either the dwarves or the trolls proved amateurish compared to the bandits of Camelot or the soldiers of the Empire though he knew either case being true was unlikely.

He couldn't say all of those things about his fellow traveler, however.

It was very clear to the inventor that the gangster was, for the most part, not entirely prepared for a trek through the icy wilderness. A million miles per hour winds, combined with the constant barrages of snow on his person, were no doubt taking a toll on him. The soldier had noticed that he had reignited the flames on his right arm, which probably served as his only heat source. It was evidently a good one too, as parts of Ballad's body grew warm whenever the gangster's arm swished by when he got close during their walk. Aside from his makeshift torch, however, he did not appear to possess any other equipment that could give him an edge. To be more accurate, it did not look like he was anything but ill. He was shivering, which in and of itself was a good sign, but he was also cupping his left eye like he was afraid it was going to pop out. Whatever the kid had been doing, it hadn't been good for him.

Thankfully, his attention was diverted to another object: The mountains.

The wind slowed down slightly as if to grant Ballad permission to gaze upon its wondrous, albeit intimidating peaks. Even from a distance, he felt comparatively puny beside the large, irregular shaped landforms. He beheld it for everything: It's humungous size, it's uneven surface that looked like someone had bent a bunch of white papers together and stacked them up to form a steep hill. And that wasn't even the only one. There were plenty more behind it.

The terrain before the gunsmith was like baby steps to train you for the real thing, with several hills rising from the ground like tumors. A few of them had holes, most likely caves, excavated into them. One of which was only fifty feet or so away.

Lynch spotted it before Ballad did, and was quick to point it out to him. It was how he did it, however, that caused his eyes to widen in shock and stare at him for a few moments. He couldn't tell if the question was supposed to be polite, sarcastic, or some perversion of the two that, by every extent of logical thought, should've been impossible. It took nearly twenty seconds just for him to process his words, let alone respond to them.

When he did, he returned the flattery with some of his own. "Your receptors serve you good fortune, desperado. I say we take shelter in the natural, underground grotto, set up a fire, and make camp."

The gunsmith let out a small chuckle as he began to make his way towards the homely-looking cavern. He figured that the cave was a win-win for the both of them. Lynch probably needed it to rest, or, at least, recover from something; he needed it to contemplate on how he was going to execute his plan to end the war. Preferably without getting caught in the act.

And to make the snowshoes. Those would probably be useful as well.

[Gwendolyn]

Koal looked his head inside the snug cave, discerning if his intuition had been correct about this shelter. He couldn't see too far, and he had to seeing to make out anything in detail. It wasn't overly large, but it was big enough to comfortably house the two of them for the night. Perfect. He stepped inside the cave, holding his arm up like a red flare. The room kit up, any darkness that was in the cave disappearing without a trace. " There's no place like home, and this place is nothing like mine." He let sarcasm seep into his words when they left his mouth, conveying his tired and agitated attitude. This place was nothing like his home, and he wasn't sure hewanted to be here. Oh well.


The young swordsman quickly scanned the roof of the cave to make sure there weren't any potentially hostile creatures lurking in the ragged cave roof. He removed his his, shaving the snow out his black locks, and proceeded to remove his jacket, throwing it onto the ground. The damn thing was soaked through and through from melted snow and ice. He would need to dry that out before they left the shelter.

The young swordsman heard the heavy goals of Ballad walking through the small stone structure, his boots making a full thud Nice when they struck the ancient stone. Koal was strongly glass to see a family face after so long, it gave him a sense of normality in this chaotic place he was now a part of. Koal felt a little nostalgic, but that would have to wait a little while longer. They had things to do, like summon some firewood. He didn't feel like venturing out and chopping it down by hand, it was cold and he didn't know where to look for the wood. Thus Omnilium needed to be utilized.

-----------------

Koal let a smile plant itself on his face when the fire caught. Finally, a fire that wouldn't drain his energy. The crackle of the flames and the sound of the reading winter storm outside the cave created a beautiful mix of sounds, and it smoothed Koal's frazzled nerves. He warned his hand over the fire, mimicking the moves of his traveling companion. The site cast an ever-shifting glow of orange to paint the entire cave, casting long shadows. A right squirmed its way into Koal's head.

" Dragons are creatures used throughout history as myths and legends, on my world at least. Depending on the legend that you adhere to, dragons find in many different varieties." Ballad looked thoughtful and interested, encouraging the young man to continue, " Some say that dragons are dumb and mindless beasts, destroying all that exists. And others have said that dragons are signs of luck, benevolent spirits that resembled logic and grace. I personally think that dragons are videos, cunning creatures that will stop at nothing to accomplish their goals once awakened."

[Corporal Light]

The gunsmith reached the cave entrance a few seconds before Lynch did, and was peeking inside by the time he had arrived. It was a refreshing change of pace from having to bear wind and snow blowing in his face.

The gunner kept behind the gangster, his hand sliding down to the holster containing his revolver as they moved inside. He flinched when Koal reignited his arm, casting the cavern in a reddish glow. As they walked inside, he used his opportunity to look around, taking in the details for later.

The cave's walls were colored blue, and they glowed as the gangster's lit arm brushed past them. On the roof, in a curved line from the sides of the cave to the entrance, were sets of white stalactites and smaller stalagmites, the stalactites continuously dripping water from their tips. The sound echoed around their temporary encampment as they paused, a short walking distance away from the entryway. The gunsmith twisted around to face the entrance, looking up towards the ceiling, checking it one last time.

He smiled upon hearing the orphan's sarcasm. He would've chuckled if it hadn't hit so close to home for himself.

Ballad's gaze reverted to Lynch as a loud thud reverberated around their abode, his jacket falling onto the floor. He had evidently walked a bit further on, finding a circular, reasonably flat stone surface that would serve as an adequate campground. He turned to look at the green man, a smile on his face as he heard the gunsmith approach. The smile faded away, however, as the needs of heat, and consequently, a campfire was of greater concern. The desperado silently knelt down, opening his palm, drawing a confused stare from the soldier. It wasn't until a spherical orb emerged, followed by a fireworks display worth of colors, did it occur to Ballad exactly what he was doing. He stood still, his right hand frozen in front of his face, shielding him from the blinding glow.

Shit... he's a prime too.

------

The green man tipped the container forward, pouring a fair amount of wick onto the logs. Once he exhausted the supply of the substances inside the small watering pot, he set it down on the ground, the pot making a grating, clunking noise as it banged against the stone. Within another moment, he lightly brushed the edge of the container against the rock, sparks flying into the wood. The sparks instantly ignited the wick, a comfortably small fire rising from the logs.

Satisfied, the gunsmith slid his hands towards the campfire, the heat tickling his fingertips. He softly moaned, closing his eyes. He didn't know about his acquaintance, but being next to flames, feeling its warmth providing much-needed relief from the harshness of the world, brought great satisfaction that he couldn't imagine getting anywhere else. He frowned, reminding his mental partner of what exactly his thoughts on that was.

As Koal started to speak up, he reopened his eyes, staring at the kid as if he had been rudely interrupted. This scowl turned into a look of genuine curiosity as he continued to talk, nodding in a thoughtful manner. His interest, however, switched to a more contemplative expression as the explanation ended. He peered down into the campfire for a few moments before standing up, hands in his coat pockets and slogging towards the cave entrance. Upon getting near it, he leaned up against the side, the wind blowing snow in his face as he stared out into the world, quietly talking to himself.

"Well, SPB, what do you think?"

"After time was obtained to remember, I have more to tell you. What your friend states is verifiable."

He sighed, his eyes reverting to a solid white. "You once said there were dragons here. What are they like?"

A long pause. "Primarily docile."

"Primarily..."

"They are exceptions to the rule, virescent one."

His eyes switched from yellow back to white, blinking as if to create the change. He muttered some more, hoping his acquaintance was not close enough to hear.

"No. If we can awaken them, get their allegiance, then our plan could not fail."

"What are you proposing, inventor?"

"If ever we get the chance, we should have a word with these... dragons."

[Gwendolyn]

Despite what his partner thought, Koal could hear him judging to himself. It was a skill one needed to pick up on the streets, so you knew when shit was about to go down. As the young man steered at the ever-moving flames, the quietlyly spoken words that Ballad spoke to himself sounded distant at first but became clear as the young man focused. Plan? What plan? Why the need for secrecy?

" What plan!?" Koal's eyes had darkened to a wine-red color displaying his fierce attitude. The Bayard was hiding things from him!? Just like everyone else. His lip curled into a snarl at the thought, showing off his fangs. But anger would not serve him here, he sucked in a deep breath, his thoughts calming down. He released the captive breath, his eyes reverting back to their original color.

Seraph's laughter echoed through his head. Koal felt ashamed of himself, he let his anger cloud his thoughts. " Sorry, I didn't mean to tell at you. It's been a long day. Please forgive me, old friend." For some reason, the thought of losing a potential friend in this nightmare tore at his mind. He sat back down, Ballad having a downright pissed of look on his face, looking personally offended at being interrupted from his muttering.

" I don't like being kept out of the loop," his voice was quiet, his eyes glued to the floor, " I don't like not being trusted." He let a rare moment of vulnerability show in his eyes, before hardening them, the violet orbs liking ad if they'd been made from diamonds. " I want answers."

[Corporal Light]

Both SPB and Ballad made a mental note: Never, ever, mumble to yourself while other people are nearby. Doesn't matter if they were your worst enemy or your closest friend; if people are nearby, don't be quiet.

Given what he had done, however, it should've been no surprise that his fellow traveler would listen in on him, walking like a hungover drunkard towards the place they had entered before ranting all quiet-like. He cursed himself for being so foolish. Why hadn't it occurred to him that plotting so overtly would attract attention he didn't desire?

It was a question for another time. He immediately whirled around, his eyes switching from yellow to solid white. His first thought was to tell him it was none of his business, but he quickly dismissed it as soon as he saw what had become of Koal. His eyes had turned a demonic crimson, just like the last time. His fangs were visible behind his snarl, even from the short walking distance that separated the two. Smoke billowed out from the holes of his coat as he felt the cold metal of his single shot steadily slide into his palm. The two held their staring contest, both daring the other to make their first move.

The idea to remove the desperado's life where he stood made him consider whipping out his single shot at that moment, without any regard for what his acquaintance would say about it. He rationalized that it was for a practical purpose, and not insanity or rage that motivated it. The last thing he wanted was to have someone discover what it was he planned to do way before he had the resources, manpower, and or time needed to see it accomplished. As the thought ran through his mind, he felt more gaseous vapor escape from his nostrils, slipping through the crimson fabric of his scarf. But his more logical side started talking to him. Whispering another viewpoint to him. Another idea. A far better idea.

The smoke dissipated around the same time his "friend" had calmed down, sitting down next to the fire he had created. As he apologized, the gunsmith kept his deadly glare transfixed on Koal, walking forward in a threatening manner. His eyes remained snow white, looking down towards Lynch like a king would look down towards a lowly servant. As he finished talking, he crossed his arms, staring at his acquaintance.

Back home, it was easy to tell how one was feeling by looking at their eyes. "Eyes were the windows to the soul," indeed. The statement held true for all beings, even the monstrous ones and the ones with no soul whatsoever. When Lynch peered up at Ballad, he instantly noticed what he could only describe as this: His companion was a scared child, or, at least, looked like one. He obviously did not want to get on his bad side. Either because he didn't want the gunner to kill him or leave him to die in the snow, or due to a genuine sense of friendship was something he could not figure out. SPB had a theory, though. Koal was obviously in no position to make demands of him, looking ill and in need of rest. So whatever demands he could make were ultimately meaningless. Therefore, they were in full position to basically not say anything to them.

Of course, he reasoned, that would be a horrible idea in the long run.

He had spent a long time on studying human emotions, and even though he still had no clue how they worked or why they were a thing to begin with, he knew what could cause them. He knew what could cause people to get angry, to be sad, to be a lot of things. He had analyzed Lynch's words and body language as best as he could, and his summation was as simple as breathing. Aside from irritability caused by fatigue, his killing of the Archdemon of Despair, as well as his quest in the Ashen Plains, also could have caused him emotional turmoil. Without direct confirmation or a tap into his memories, however, it would be impossible to figure out.

So he decided to best course of action was not to kill him but befriend him. Make him believe he was indeed a helpful man, fighting for a peaceful cause. Once he revealed his problems, then he would be open to whatever it was the soldier wished for.

The gunsmith smiled, his eyes reverting back to a traditional bisque, glowing color. He calmly strolled to the other side of the campfire, sitting down in front of it. Lynch gazed at him, raising his head off of the floor, turning his head away as if preparing for the inevitable breakdown.

Instead, he spoke eloquently and without malice.

"Koal... your spirit... fellow kindred spirit... what befell him? How long has he inhabited your mind? Inform me of that, and I will inform you of myself." He whispered.

[Gwendolyn]

Koal drew in a deep breath, his eyes locking onto the fire. " To understand how my kindred spirit has truly effected me , you have to understand how he gained access to my body and mind in such a direct way." He lifted his baleful eyes to Ballad's, willing the green gunsmith to understand. " My world isn't a good one. As you can probably tell by now, I'm a prime. Omni brought me here because I was entertaining" the young man let out a loud snort, a grim look set on his face." Scientists from my home, they work for bad people. Persecutors of all who don't fit into their narrow-minded ideals. I grew up in the poorest part of civilization, where people like me aren't missed, and they bring us in. It was only a matter of time. So one day, I was taken in for experimentation."

" Those were easily the worst days of my life. I was subjected to all kinds of poisons and tortures, all in the name of science." His words were becoming increasingly bitter and hate-filed as he continued on, his eyes changing back and forth as him anger grew." But they considered me to be their greatest achievement, the culmination of their power and knowledge. And so I was subjected to one final test." His eyes watered at the memory, his voice breaking.

" The scientists shattered my soul, they broke the very essence of who I am. And then they put me back together in the image they thought was right. They had somehow captured Seraph, and he had been subjected through the same process as me. And then they fused our essence, changing us both." He stopped, unable to continue due to the sobs racking his lithe frame. He sensed Ballad move to sit next to him, but Koal didn't want his pity. He didn't want consolidation. Koal was broken, and he wanted to be whole again, he needed to be one with himself.

His violet eyes fluttered shut as he took a deep, shaking breath. " I don't want your condolences, Ballad. I want the truth." He fixed shifting eyes to the gunsmith's snow-white ones. " I know you don't know me very well, but I think I deserve some kind of explanation." The fire flickered violet for a short second, as if to punctuate his point.

Koal walked to the entrance of the cave, where the intense snowstorm still raged. He held out and hand, watching the snow collect and spill pass his splayed fingers. He needed to calm down, but he was fighting a failing battle. So he reached out. The black emblem on his hands pulled blue, and he felt the melodic presence of Leah enter his mind. Her very presence made his body relax, and his racing thoughts stilled. He continued to stare at the falling curtain of snow, trying to gather his thoughts...

[Corporal Light]

He didn't expect the exact kind of story the gangster decided to give him.

He supposed that he should've known the story would've been tragic or at the very least poignant to some degree. After all, how else would one end up being possessed by a malevolent being? It wasn't like he had simply found him in a corner somewhere and decided to allow him to take up residence in his mind.

But that wasn't what bothered the gunsmith.

What was so bothersome about the story was what it entailed and he didn't know if he should've felt sorry or distrusting. For one thing, he had no way to know what Koal was saying was the truth. He could've just as easily been manipulating him, just to backstab him later. He could still feel the ice pick in his hand, having buried it inside the bastard traitor's bosom. Part of him yearned to experience it again if only so he could mutilate the woman more.

On the other hand, the one thing he did know for certain was that the kid's other half, Seraph, had taken possession of him at some point. Exactly how was the question that gnawed at the back of his mind, despite his constant attempts to ignore it. Logic dictated that thrusting himself towards Lynch would've been a bad idea, but even SPB knew that wasn't going to convince him not to. Koal easily noticed the way he fidgeted in his seat, his eyes turning solid white and smoke rising from his sleeves. Occasionally, his eyes would revert to yellow, his posture softening, before he would blink and his eyes would turn back to a snow-white color, hardening his stance.

Despite that, however, he couldn't help but recognize the fact that everything he said was so damn familiar, and yet it was just as, if not more, obvious that he knew almost nothing about the gunsmith. Such a thought seemed foreign to him, and his eyes instantly switched to white and remained there. As Lynch finished speaking, he moved to sit next to him, his impulse telling him to punch him or just yell at him.

Instead, he stayed silent, watching the broken man walk up to the cave entrance, trying to calm himself down. But the gunner couldn't be calm. He had absolutely no idea if he could even trust the kid after all that he had gone through. The last time someone had decided to share their story with him, they had tried to get him killed after convincing him that they were his friend. That they truly wanted to help him, even when he pushed them away and threatened them. That they could've made him forget. What a stupid thing to have thought. All forgetting had done was make him blind to the world and all of its problems. And he was going to fix those problems if it meant killing off everyone in the Omniverse. The way he saw it, his attempts to forget had solved nothing, just like the Wicker Men had solved nothing. Just like the Church had solved nothing. Why exactly should he give Lynch the benefit of the doubt when everyone he had given it too had betrayed his trust at some point in their lives? The Church did, the Wicker Men did, his people did, Immy did.

Just like Immy. Just like Immy...

Smoke billowed out of every part of his body, enveloping his figure completely. He jerked out his pickaxe, smashing it into a nearby set of stalagmites. The sound of broken ice reverberated around the room as Lynch turned around, seeing a gaseous figure standing near their campfire, its weapon stabbed into a nearby wall and shouting at the top of its lungs.

"The truth? HERE'S YOUR FUCKING TRUTH, DIPSHIT! I've had to deal with crazies on EVERY END of EVERY SINGLE DAMN THING IN THE UNIVERSE who refuse to accept that two people just aren't the same! I've had to deal with people wanting me dead for QUITE SOME TIME. I've had to deal with bandits, soldiers, patriots, and TRAITORS ever since I got here! I've tried to keep my mouth shut about all of that and act like I don't care, BUT WHAT THE FUCK HAS THAT DONE FOR ME OR FOR ANYONE ELSE?! All that I've done since getting here is get shot at, get stabbed, and get BETRAYED by a person that could've been my friend! I've tried to forget all that shit was even a thing, maybe to preserve some kind of fucking sanity or some semblance of peace here."

"But the truth? The truth is, Lynch, is that I can't do that. All that's done is kept people killed because criminals like a friend of mine, and people like Camelot fighting wars because they REFUSE to coexist with each other, and the trolls and dwarves of this land KILLING EACH OTHER for some dumb shit reason. How can I sit here and act like all that doesn't exist? I can't, Koal, and I refuse to sit here and do nothing while wars continue and criminals walk free. I'm here to stop these fucking wars, and make sure they never reignite again, and I'm not letting your SOB STORY deter me from that."

The smoke dissipated as his rant ended, his grip on the haft of the pickaxe softening. He closed his eyes, a voice unlike his own coming out of his mouth. It was soft and emotionless.

"You shouldn't have done that, Ballad. You shouldn't have done that..."

[Gwendolyn]

All was silent for a second.

And then Koal started to laugh. It was a quiet chuckle, at first, his deep voice reverberating throughout the small cavern. Then it began to get louder, with an edge of insanity to it and got louder still. But the smile that came with the laugh never reached his eyes. Oh his eyes, they hadn't turned red like all the other times. His eyes were completely black, the pupil seemingly have taken over his entire eye. He turned and looked at Ballad with a feral grin, taking a confident step forward.

"Sob story? You think I'm doing this for ATTENTION!?" His eyes changed into a swirling mix of violet and black, the campfire in the center of the cavern changing color as well, it's hue darkening into a deep red color. The color of freshly drawn blood. "You think I give a damn about attention? I WOULD GIVE ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING TO HAVE NEVER GONE THROUGH WHAT I HAVE!" His eyes blazed as he stepped toward Ballad, tears forming. But he refused to let them fall.

" I WAS A GOOD PERSON! I HAD NEVER SPILLED A DROP OF BLOOD IN MY LIFE UNTIL THIS HORRID PLACE BECAME MY HOME!" His scythe had appeared in his left hand, glowing with an energy that commanded attention. But it's angelic glow was gone, replaced by the dark tendrils of darkness. A demon's aura.

He slammed the weapon into the cave wall, the enchanted metal sliding into the stone cavern wall as if it were butter. Cracks spread from the site of impact, and the small space echoed with the sound of the blow. The shadows of the cavern began to wave and dance, the demonic energy commanding their allegiance. A layered whispering came from the shadows, tiny voices of doubt and fury coming from every direction. "You want to stop a war, well you're just one man. you might be immortal. But we're a dime a dozen here, Ballad. The people of these land are probably well-versed in the art of eradicating primes." The shadows became silent, and the silence became deafening. Swirling violet and black met snow-white.

The emblem on his hand pulsed, and Koal felt his mind calm, an idea slowly forming... And it all depended on the other life form in the room.

He slowly drew his weapon from the stone that currently sheathed the blade. He walked towards Ballad with a purpose in his steps. The other man drew a gun and pointed the metal barrel at the young man's head. And Koal had no doubt that if he chose to, Ballad would not miss his shot. But he kept walking, shifting the scythe so that the blade faced away from the gunsmith. he stopped walking when he was about four feet in front of Ballad, the dark metal pressing into the reaper's forehead.

He knelt at Ballad's feet, presenting his scythe to the older man. "You claim to want peace for this world. And if that is truly your goal...Then I present my weapon and allegiance to you, Commander."

[Corporal Light]

It was official. The kid hadn't lost Seraph. Not by a long shot. If the laugh or his eyes hadn't tipped him off, the glow of the rapidly changing fire did. Not to mention that he had walked up to him with his scythe, pulsating with a somehow less threatening energy, and slammed it into the wall. The room itself seemed to come to life around him, the gangster's shadows mutating as if to consume him. Then he saw the marking on the kid's hand pulse, and it all stopped.

The gunsmith had no reason to suspect Lynch wouldn't straight up attack him as soon as he got within a few feet of him and thus was poised to act first. He pulled out his revolver, aiming it straight at the man's head. He believed that was all he needed to do to keep him back, or at the very least make him stop moving.

To say that the gunner was surprised when his action failed to deter his unstable acquaintance, but dared him to kill him by placing his head against the barrel of his revolver was a severe understatement. His offer moments after that did not help in the slightest.

Almost immediately, his mind was assaulted by voices, each one of them arguing with themselves over the best course of action. One whisper was louder than the rest. Why should he trust him? The last person he had placed his trust in had betrayed him at the worst possible moment. He had believed that she could have helped him. How he wasn't sure, but he thought she could. And he had been wrong.

The thought alone nearly pulled the trigger for him. But another, more rational, albeit more desperate voice, rang through his head. All of the signs of a willingness to betray him were there, but maybe that wasn't the case. Maybe it was just a coincidence.

Why should I bet my plan's success on a COINCIDENCE?!

That isn't the implication, impulsive inventor. Rather, it is irrational to think that he has disloyal thoughts for you after so little time spent with you.

I was with Immy for a total of, I don't know, two hours? I had let what she had said get to me, and that got me captured and killed. I'm not letting that happen again, especially not with what I intend to do to be on the line.

Please, listen to my suggestion. It is reasonable to assume he might not be most loyal now, but why waste such a perfect opportunity such as this? He is unerring on what he tells us: We are but one facing many. If we are to be caught, then we will surely fail.

As their debate continued, his eyes constantly shifted from white to yellow. His mouth sometimes opened to say something before quickly shutting.

Damn you and your damn logic, SPB.

It is a fact that I am infallible in regards to that. So, are we in agreement?

Go ahead and tell him. Dammit, don't be wrong.

Koal looked up from the gun, seeing the soldier close his eyes. Eventually, he reopened them, its bisque glow returning as he slid his revolver into its holster. Smiling, Lynch stood up, sheathing his scythe away.

"Alright, desperado. I allow you the ability to live." The gunsmith said, its voice eloquent and polite.

"Thank you, comma-"

"I did not say that I accepted your help, however."

"Pardon?" Lynch said, cocking an eyebrow in the green man's direction. Ballad slowly pulled his pickaxe out of the ice wall, the sound of broken ice crashing into the ground echoing around the cavern.

"I am no fool, orphaned one. I am not so rash as to blindly recruit those whom I have only known for a short while." He said, pointing the pickaxe at his so-called "ally." "I have felt the sting of perfidy before, and I will do my utmost to prevent it again. Therefore, you will be required to accomplish a set of tasks for me."

"What tasks?" The gangster replied.

"First and foremost, I want proof. I want you to prove to me that your anecdote is not a work of fiction." He said, raising his free hand to interrupt the kid. "I do not care how you go about accomplishing it. I just want you to do it."

"Okay.... what's the second task?"

"Secondly, I want you to head to the realm of Coruscant and head to its library. Find every record you can of all of the other verses and then bring them back to me."

"Why would you want books?"

"Despite my extensive vocabulary, I am limited in my knowledge of the realms, despite my age. I require additional archives to study to obtain more."

"Okay..." Koal replied, his tone expressing his uneasiness.

"That is all I have to offer for you, Lynch. And one more thing..."

He thrust his free hand forward, grabbing onto the kid's shoulder. His eyes turned monochrome white, staring at him in a menacing manner. His next few words were little louder than whispers, but his intentions were clear with each one spoken.

"Fail, or double-cross me, and you will find someone more dangerous than your Seraph."

[Gwendolyn]

Koal took a step back, eyeing the white-eyed figure in front of him. Ballad had just threatened him with death if he failed in obtaining a few books. He was suddenly having doubts about this whole endeavor, for the basis of his decision seemed to be false. Why would a man truly focused on peace kill for something so meaningless? He let out a shrug, dismissing the thoughts, but still eyeing the pacing figure of Ballad. He seemed to be arguing to himself, his face changing from angry to calm and collected periodically. Bizzare. It almost reminded him of... No. That couldn't be it, could it? He almost wanted to inquire, but the scars of their last confrontation were still in his mind, so Koal kept his mouth shut.

Taking out a sleeping bag from a pack he had earlier summoned with Omnilum, the young man felt his eyelids grow heavy once more. He needed rest desperately, he had been running on fumes for days now, and his body definitely felt it. The sooner Koal got recharged, the sooner he could leave. His wandering mind dwelled on what Ballad had said earlier, about him feeling the sting of betrayal... It weighed heavily on the Reaper's mind.

He felt guilty for opening up old wounds, but it was irrevocable. There was nothing Koal could say or do now to change that, but he still felt the weight of the world on his shoulders. Why did he have a bad feeling about this? He couldn't shake the feeling, but he slowly drifted into the clutches of his waking nightmares.
--------------------
Leah almost felt bad for taking her physical form without telling Koal, but it truly is better to beg forgiveness than to ask permission. She appeared silently, her form slowly becoming corporeal in the small cavern in which her male companion had taken up residence. She could see the figure of his sleeping form lying by the fire, his face relaxed and unburdened, but more importantly, she could see the other figure in the room.

She took a step forward, slowly kneeling down to brush some of Koal's hair out of his eyes, saying a blessing over him. And then straightening her leather jacket, or rather, Koal's old one, she took another step forward, this time making an intended loud crack, and her boot came into contact with the floor.

Ballad, as he was called, immediately looked at her, probably thinking she was Koal, and upon discovering that she was not, seemed confused for a second before drawing a revolver that he proceeded to point at her head. She held up a pale, slender hand. "Before you make the worst mistake of your life by shooting me, how about we sit and speak like adults?" A perfectly shaped eyebrow lifted slightly as if daring him to argue she walked forward, being careful to avoid the various ashes and stones on the floor. She tucked a stray strand of hair away behind a slightly pointed ear, the black lock would only distract her, and she needed to focus. "My name is Leah, and you and I need to have a serious conversation."

He opened his mouth to rebuke the lady, but she held her hand up to forestall the string of most likely impolite words from exiting his mouth. "I don't want to hear bullshit excuses and lies, Ballad. I want to know if you're sending Koal into danger. " She narrowed her golden eyes, the orbs piercing the gunslinger's soul, "I don't care about you, but Koal is important to me. If you are sending him into danger, you'd better tell me now."

Her eyes never moved from his, and the hostile attitude was adequately conveyed by her body language, her arms were crossed over her chest, and her black wings were fluttering slightly as if she was trying desperately not to lash out with their razor-sharp edges. She cocked an eyebrow once more, and showing her fangs, "I'm not a patient person, Ballad." The message was clear. Tell.Me. NOW.

[Corporal Light]

Ballad swore he was going to blow off the head of the next female cave-dweller the moment he would see one.

He had been laying back against the back wall of the cave next to the fire and to the left of the resting human. He had sprinkled more of the flammable wick into the campfire to keep it comfortably warm once the heat started to wane, him closing his eyes soon afterwards to try to get some sleep. Considering he had had to deal with bandits, two interruptions of his sleep beforehand, and other sleep deprivations unrelated to the above two, he thought he deserved, at least, one good nights rest. The weather apparently agreed with him, the winds less intense and more bearable than they were when he had first entered the verse. The only sources of sound, for a while, at least, was the crackling of the fire and the occasional low whistle of the wind blowing through the hills of the Fields.

These harmonious sounds that had allowed the gunsmith many a good sleep back home now only made it more difficult. His head pounded thinking about it, and it only got worse each time he tried to divert his thoughts to something unrelated to home. The only thing stopping him from straight up begging SPB to start rambling about useless information was the sound of a boot smashing into the ancient stone floor.

If it hadn't had been for his more finely tuned senses, he would've probably mistaken the woman for Koal. She had on a leather jacket that was very similar to Lynch's and her black hair was short and seemed almost tomboyish. The most visually striking aspect of her, however, were her large, ebony feathered wings. They were tucked down towards the ground in a non-threatening manner though this did little to ease the gunsmith. If anything, such an interruption so soon after his shouting match with his acquaintance wasn't something he was in the mood for.

He swiftly pulled out his revolver, aiming it at her head. He was going to ask her somewhat politely to leave them alone when she held up her hand, not wanting a fight. He kept his mouth shut as she walked forward and introduced herself. It was the last part of her sentence, however, that caused him to begin to speak up.

He wanted to say it was "none of her damn business." Unfortunately, the winged, angel-like lady quickly interjected with another raise of her slender hand. He noticed as she spoke that her eyes were a golden color, and she was glaring at him as if to drive him into the ground. They kept their staring contest going for a while, the woman raising her wings into the air in anticipation.

Meanwhile, the gunner was trying to comprehend what exactly she had said. He hadn't met anyone resembling her at any point, yet she knew his name, knew he had been dodging his companion's questions, and possibly what he was sending the kid out to do. With only a name to go on, he was reliving memories he did not want to experience a second time.

It was the wings, on the other hand, that sparked a response from his other half. His eyes turned yellow, a polite smile forming behind his scarf.

"Do you not recognize the ebony limbs made of the plume, virescent one?" He said, his gun still pointed at the winged intruder.

"Yeah, they're wings. Why?" he replied, his eyes going from yellow to white before reverting back to yellow.

"She appears to be a divine being of an omnipotent God."

"Diving.... being..." He said, his tone going quiet as his eyes switched to white.

"I could be incorrect! Do not presume my knowledge is omniscient; it is merely vast. Despite that, however, there is evidence that implicates her as an angel. Most angels are guardian spirits assigned to a particular individual, and most are depicted typically as winged humanoids." He replied, smoke starting to appear from his hands. A look of concern flashed onto his face for a second before his eyes switched to a yellow color. He pulled back his revolver, pointing it at the ceiling in a non-threatening manner. He tried to remain as courteous and gentlemanly as possible as his eye color constantly reverted between yellow and white, with his voice going from a polite and well-mannered to a low, menacing growl.

"Forgive me, o (worthless piece of-) divine guardian of the heavens. If we had known you carried religious significance, we would have (defiled you and your church-) answered your questions in kind. Despite your protective nature, however, I must say, you (are nothing but a puppe-) incorrectly assume my intentions for mister Lynch. I'm merely sending him on a quest to a library to obtain records of the other verses for studying. It is as dangerous as (burn in hell, you warmongering-) taking a leisurely walk through Minas Tirith. I promise you, it is not a hazardous journey (unless he fucks up picking up books, which means you're an awful-)"

A quick smack to the left side of his temple by his free hand quickly shut up the prejudiced man within, but by then the damage had most likely already been done. Ballad could only hope against hope that his message had gotten across. If it didn't, he hoped she would take it as a misunderstanding.

He did NOT want to see how well they did in a fight.

[Gwendolyn]

Leah's left eyelid twitched as the damned fool rambled on and on. She respected part of him, and the other...lets just say that she would bat an eye if he was ruthlessly ripped apart in the most unmerciful way possible. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she tried to stay calm, she really did. Counted to ten and everything... Nope. Still pissed. Summoning her knife, she was suddenly at his throat, the blade lightly touching the skin on his neck.

"You listen here, Ballad, and listen well. You would be dead where you stand if Koal wasn't so damned attached to you. I can't do that to him. Not yet. He's fragile enough already as it is." Her eyes softened and her voice dropped down to a whisper as she spoke of her young companion, before hardening into daggers when she looked back at the divided gunslinger. His face was going through a myriad of changes, from pissed off all the way to fearful respect.

She bared her fangs at him, letting out a hiss between her teeth. "You warned Koal before, so now I am going to warn you. If anything happens to Koal, you'll have a rat's smile carved into your throat before you know it." The Angel left the threat hanging in the air, the tension in the room rising as they glared at each other. Leah turned away, sheathing the knife on her upper thigh as she stalked across the small cavern. She wanted out of this place. She kneeled down by her ward, inspecting his face for signs of unease, checking his breathing to discern whether or not he was in a deep sleep. As a matter of fact, he seemed to be waking up.

She shook his shoulder gently, speaking softly, "Koal, get up. We have work to do. Places to go, shit to retrieve for your slave-master friend. Fun stuff." She shot a look at Ballad with malice in her eyes. Koal got up from the floor, stretching his limbs and looking at Leah with a confused expression. She read the question in his eyes and quickly shot out a response, I wanted some fresh air and a word with your...friend." She handed Koal his pack and gave him a gentle nudge towards the door, following behind him.

"I'll be back soon, Commander. Don't wait up for me!" The sarcastic young man could help the smart ass comments, but they were funny as hell. He walked out of the cave, the blizzard they had struggled through earlier now a moderate snowfall. Time to get moving. He looked at Leah, and she looked at him. They shared a nod and took of at a sprint.