He stood before me, and it was like looking through a frosted window, my brother on the far side. All the color had been leeched from him, his golden skin and hair, and his eyes which were once just a shade darker blue than my own. All of him held a silvery-white glow.

It was easier than I expected. I didn't have to go into the Undercity or see any of the horrors that guard the corridors and entrances to that place. The Orb was placed outside, in the Courtyard. I simply walked up to it and triggered it.

(( New to being posted, older chronologically ))

Leiral asked me to sleep with her. She was having nightmares too, after our trip. Thoughts of her brother, as I am having. Unlike me, she does not know if her brother is alive or dead. Her fear speaks through her dreams.

(( New to being posted, chronologically older. ))

The hand falls on my shoulder. It is very cool. The grip is very firm. There is an unpleasantly wet sound as the figure behind me shifts. The back of my neck prickles.

Ever since we went to that haunted castle in Silverpine... I can't sleep.

I didn't want to bring him with me.

I was watching the first light of dawn begin its dance on the waters of the lake when I knew he was there.

The slight shifting of the log under his weight.

The faint shadow stretching out across the water behind and beside me.

The smell of his skin.

The poor sleep and all the exertion of the day before caught up with me. I slept far past the sunrise. My left leg was numb from the knee down, because there was an enormous worg with his head on my knee.

I didn't sleep well last night. It was so hard to let myself drop off. The bed was empty... so empty. I didn't realize how used to having him there I'd become. My back was cold, no matter how I wrapped myself in the blankets.

It wasn't that he didn't love me. I'm almost positive...

They’d retired him from battle, no longer able to carry the weight of an orc in full wargear. He has a bad paw. But his coat and eyes still shine, he’s still bright in my eyes. After months working in this stable, I finally have him.

My life for yours.

To say I love youis a phrase long past its prime,

When geese leave the north.disdaining cold waters for

Covering oneself withleaves and twigs, branches and bark,

The clay may beturned, glazed, painted and fired

Apples blossoms willflower, wither, and become

Shouting from the heightsechoes shout back their reply,

When the nightengaletwists her throat to sing the songs

Under night's velvetthe shadow's sly glide will not

If snow falls uponthe black fabric of my sleeve,

Though it carries leavesdownstream from their tree of birthwater cannot flow backwards and return itselfto its place of origin.

(( A note of explaination: I had to post this, even though I am not caught up to this point in the story just yet... what happens when a Non-RPer encounters two RPers who continue to play along long past the point of reason? Read and see! All of the text from "Sephrroth" is rendered exactly as he typed it, with nothing removed or corrected. The only thing that we changed was to refuse to allow him to godmode us into being bitten, having our blood sucked, or being "punchis" the face, but instead redirected everything he did to the stairs. Enjoy! We certainly did! ))

Leiral and I were just shopping, really. We'd had a... well, a rather shocking, unpleasant experience earlier. Not so much as experience as... the thing we witnessed. We were browsing in a lighting goods shop when we heard this strangly thick voice behind us. It was as if someone were talking through a mouthful of phlegm, or maybe marbles.

"its the popo" it said.

The little pond was one of my favorite things about Sun Rock. From the first moment we had flown in and I’d seen the light dancing across it, and every morning when I awoke and made my way across the little bridge. It puzzled me, sometimes, that there was both a stepping-path and a bridge across it. Mostly, I ignored the stepping-path, turning my back to them to lean against the railing of the bridge and feel the morning around me.

The feel of a woman’s hand descending on my shoulder was a complete shock. I turned to see Braelyn – the woman Uzil had always described to me as the “insane elf bitch” – looking down at me down her patrician nose, lip slightly curled in distaste. There was something... dark about her. I couldn't put my finger on it. She made me uncomfortable, as though a shadow clung to her somehow.

I made my way slowly to the pond at the center of the village, my feet disappearing in the early morning groundmist until I stepped up onto the bridge. It was quiet, most of the merchants and other inhabitants didn't seem to be awake yet. I listened to the birds singing, and the insistent banging of a woodpecker. The sky was a study in peach and gold, what of it I could see above the rocks. I would have to see if I could find a perch to watch the sunrise from. The lilies bobbed gently, as a frog, startled by my shadow, hopped off of the bank.

I seated myself on the edge of the overlook and dangled my legs over it. I was looking over the little village as twilight painted it in shades of purple and orange, watching the light sparkle on the little pond, peering upwards as the stars began to dimly peek out.

I am building. Not just building this house, with Uzil, that is just the outward sign, a framework, for the entire life that I'm making now, from foundations to finish. I know I won't finish the work on the inner effort as easily and quickly as we'll be finishing the outer, but all the same, the metaphor pleases me. It's good to know that I can do something like this. It's good to have faith again.