Post by Amur on Jul 22, 2013 16:43:40 GMT -5
Solomon woke with a start drenched in cold sweat. Over the course of the past two years his nightmares had become much more frequent and great deal more vivid, and now they had even started becoming more diverse, no more were his nightmares simply him reliving the fight for his life against that damned Wyvern, no, now even they had started making appearances, and for the life of him, Solomon couldn't figure out why. Leaning forward on the branch he was sat on, Solomon placed his head in his hands, covering his face. Now the amount of time he could spend sleeping whenever he found himself in the usual situation of having to sleep had decreased, now Solomon was barely able to sleep for more than several hours at any one time. And that was starting to affect him.
Drawing in a deep breath The Hunter looked up and leaned back against the trunk of the three he had chosen to sleep in for the night. It was still dark out, and although it was generally difficult to tell, Solomon knew that he hadn't slept for very long. Maybe two hours if he was lucky, but in all brutal honesty, that was just a pure guess on his part, his sense of time had become so twisted and distorted ever since The Elf and his Wyvern-kin had managed to gain the upper-hand that it had become next to impossible for him to be able to tell.
As his thoughts turned to them they inevitably also turned to that little feathered traitor, as well. All of the pain and humiliation that Solomon had suffered at their hands could all unquestionably be traced back to Aimé. The signs had just been far too perfect to ignore, especially when The Elf and Wyvern-kin had started tracking him to his hidden-base camps with perfect accuracy. Solomon snarled silently to himself, his fists clenching in anger as he thought of that little feathered traitor, and what he was going to do to Aimé if he ever managed to get his hands on him. Whatever The Elf had made him endure, Solomon would make seem like a pleasant experience by comparison, he would make Aimé suffer.
Of course, Solomon hadn't been careless with his trust of Aimé, he had fully prepared several other hidden base-camps around the land just in case the feathered coward did get captured. However, he didn't care travel to them while recovering from the injuries that The Elf and Wyvern-kind had inflicted upon him, they knew what they were doing enough to leave him just injured enough to significantly slow his travelling speed in order to make him easier to track, and every time he neared a point where he could make himself disappear they struck again. It had become almost painfully obvious to him over time that they were playing with him, and that idea both humiliated him further and infuriated him beyond belief. Although, he had noticed that every time that he had woken up -with a little "gift" left for him from them- it had always been in one of his known hidden base-camps. He had come to the conclusion that they had been trying to keep their continuing feud with him out-of-sight, and while he had tried his best to hid in a populated area, they seemed to have likewise cottoned on to the fact that he had realised what they were doing and made it impossible for him to get within several miles of any populated areas.
He drew in a deep breath, he wasn't going to help himself by getting angry when it would avail him nothing. For the time being it would be better for him to try and get some more sleep, no matter how unlikely it was to happen. He needed to at least try and keep his strength up, and keep his wits about him, he needed to at least make sure that he could function well enough to continue moving, for whatever reason The Elf and Wyvern-kin hadn't come looking for him in quite some time. And Solomon was well on his way to recovery, if he could just keep his strength up then he would soon be able to make himself vanish. Slowly, he closed his eyes again, attempting to drift back off to sleep. Drawing in a deep breath as he allowed his mind to drift, the thought of being able to go into hiding doing its part to keep him relaxed enough to drift off to sleep again.
His resolution had made sleeping through the rest of the night somewhat easier, the nightmares had become more subdued, and he ended up waking up only once more throughout the night. And thanks to that, Solomon currently felt better than he had done in quite some time, and despite a still lingering sense of unease he was able to walk with something close to a spring in his step. Things were beginning to look up, at least for the time being anyway. Then again, Solomon usually felt this way after a good night's sleep, such things were so rare for him that he always woke up in a good mood.
In spite of the risk involved, Solomon walked at a brisk pace towards one of his hidden camps -he still hadn't recovered enough to be able to use the trees just yet, but he was getting close.- he needed to get some supplies. At the top of his list would of course be several vials of explosive compound, they may not have shown themselves in a while, but this time Solomon was taking no chances, if they came for him again, he would make ever y effort to put them down using the vials of explosive compound that he had at his disposal. In his mind's-eye, they had already taken so much from him that the only way to get even now was to kill them.
He found his fists clenching again, When he had left Empire Nirvana he had originally thought that it would be impossible for him to come to hate anyone more than he hated Mentor Aeon, however, with the way things were going so far The Elf and Wyvern-kin were coming very close. The only difference between them and Mentor Aeon, however, was the fact that he didn't respect them, and he wouldn't hesitate to kill them if he ever got the chance. He drew in another deep breath, no, he had to remind himself yet again, that getting angry was the very reason he had managed to beat The Elf and Wyvern-kin in the first place, if he let his emotions get the better of him then he had already lost. He wasn't going to let them get to him any further, they weren't going to win anything, Solomon was determined to make sure of that. So far they had idiotically allowed him to live, as far as he was concerned that was going to be the mistake that cost them, just as it had been the mistake that had cost him. He was already well on his way to making a full recovery, the next time they came across him, Solomon would be ready. And he would not allow their knowledge of that vile name to rile him up, not until they were both lying defeated and broken at his feet, only then would he allow himself to snap.
He pushed his thoughts of revenge to the back of his mind as he continued to walk, allowing himself to focus on other things in order to calm himself down. Of course, no matter what happened, Solomon would need to find his source of death-on-his-terms, and get his precious Wyvern-Slayer back, but he needed to take things one step at a time. He would allow his frustration, and his humiliation to remain bottled up until he could release them at the source of his ire. And when that happened, nothing would be able to save them from him. It would be a glorious day, Solomon had already proven beyond any doubt what humans were capable of and he would do it again, it was just a matter of patience.
Slowly, but surely, Solomon's good mood prevailed over his rage and he was soon moving with that similar near-spring in his step. He allowed his thoughts to travel to the matter he had been debating with himself for several days now, and that was which of his hidden camps -the ones that Aimé did not know of- he would go to in order to make himself vanish. He had already admitted to himself that he had grown to like that mountainous region to the south-east of the land, which had been part of the reason behind setting up a hidden camp there, but, then again, there was also that little isle off the coast. The options where there, it was just a matter of deciding which one he would travel to.
He was jolted from his internal debate, however, at the sudden sound of laboured, heavy breathing and grunts of what sounded like something stuck between pain and exertion. Solomon's reaction to the sound was immediate, crouching slightly, he drew his bow from its holster and opened it while drawing and fitting an arrow to it all in one swift, and graceful movement. He waited several long moments, sweeping his gaze and his readied bow in broad arcs around the vicinity, whoever was making those sounds was close, that much was obvious.
When he was confident that there was no incoming attack, he slowed down, but kept his bow at the ready. He spent several long moments simply listening to the noise and pinpointing its location before he turned in its direction and slowly advanced in its direction.
It didn't take Solomon long to locate the source of the noises as a very clearly wounded man, leaning against a tree with something clutched tightly to his chest with one hand while he used the other to keep himself stood steady. He took a moment to take-in the sight, this man was clearly a warrior of some kind, dark-metal chainmail was worn beneath a black-with-red-trim surcoat, with dark-metal gauntlets covering both arms, and similar dark-metal greaves covering his legs. He was hunched over the dark object he held to his chest, which, judging by the arrows protruding from his back, he had used his body as a shield for. The man suddenly looked up at Solomon, an expression of tired defiance shining through the glazed-over look in his eyes. Solomon blinked, he couldn't tell how long the man had been like this for. But what he could tell, was that this man was on his feet through nothing more than sheer force-of-will. He had been there himself.
"Gehen Sie voran! Ich werde nicht viel länger leben irgendwie!"
The man snarled at Solomon. Now everything suddenly began to add-up, the familiarity of the colour scheme on the surcoat, the dark-metal armour. This man was a Nirvanian. Slowly, Solomon lowered his bow and returned his arrow to its quiver. He didn't think much of this man, but the situation he was in was something that Solomon could at least sympathise with.
"Was geschah Ihnen? Wie erhielten Sie hier?"
Solomon asked as he collapsed his bow and returned it to the holster on his lower back. The man's expression gave way to shock, which was rapidly replaced with relief as he fell into a sitting position, breathing heavily. He let out a heavy sigh of relief, managing to mutter the word "Nirvanian" as the breath left his body. Solomon blinked, clearly this man now thought he was able to give-up now that Solomon was here.
"Wir versuchten, dort waren… zu viele. Ich blieb hinten… erlaube meinen Kameraden zu entgehen. Aber es gab eine… Komplikation, und ich musste dieses schützen."
He said slowly as Solomon approached and knelt down in front of him. He took note of the rest of the surcoat's design, drawing in a rapid breath he sharply -and subtly- averted his gaze from the unmistakeable image of a Wyvern's eye that was stitched into the chest area of the surcoat. That meant that this man was one of Nemesis Morona's men, there was no way he could be anyone else, but what was he doing out here? what interest did Nemesis Morona have in the strange object that the man had been protecting? And how had he even managed to get away from his pursuers? Whatever the story, Solomon didn't try to make sense of it.
"Bitte müssen Sie dieses an Nemesis Morona liefern, damit es zu seinem rechtmäßigen Platz zurückgebracht werden kann. Ich bin verloren… Aber, wenn dieses geliefert werden kann, bin ich nicht ausgefallen. Bitte schulde ich Nemesis Morona, der viel."
The man pleaded, holding out what looked like a relatively large, polished black rock of some kind toward Solomon. Solomon blinked. He thought nothing of this man, but, he did owe Nemesis Morona a lot. If this was a favour to Nemesis Morona, then Solomon couldn't just ignore it. Not after he had written history the way Solomon had asked him to before he had left to deal with the abomination behind The Incident. He nodded gently to the man, taking the odd object from his grasp with both hands. It was lighter than it had looked, but Solomon paid that no mind, the unexpectedly light weight would simply mean that this object would not slow Solomon down while on his way to Nemesis Morona's village. He had a rough idea of where it was, all he had to do was avoid The Elf and The Wyvern-kin if they were to come looking for him. Especially if this was something that the people of this land would consider to be unsavoury.
"Sehr gut liefere ich dieses an Nemesis Morona. Wurde Sie mögen mich Ihr Leiden beenden?"
He replied. Asking a question to a Commoner that he wouldn't normally ask. However, The Commoner simply shook his head.
"Nein, dort ist keine Zeit. Sie müssen das an Nemesis Morona liefern sich bewegen bitte schnell Master Hunter Solomon Wyvern-Slayer Latro."
He replied. Solomon's breath caught briefly, this man knew who he was and had still entrusted this task to him? What had Nemesis Morona done to make a Commoner trust a Hunter? The man smiled briefly before the light left his eyes and he fell silent. Solomon remained rooted to the spot in stunned silence for several long moments. Had it been the fact that the man had been dying? Or had he genuinely trusted Solomon with delivering this object to Nemesis Morona? An odd sensation took root in Solomon's chest at the idea of a Commoner trusting him, a Hunter. Whatever Nemesis Morona had done with his leadership, he had to see this. If he somehow had Commoners trusting Hunters then maybe Solomon had his destination set in-mind after all. He stayed here he was a moment longer, and then did something unheard of, he bowed his head and then touched his insignia with the tips of his fingers, muttering the words.
"Rest im Frieden."
Before altering his position and proceeding in the opposite direction to the one he had initially been walking in. His focus now on reaching Nemesis Morona was swiftly as he could. If the commoners there were not only trusting of Hunters but actually accepting of them, he had to see it. He had to see if Nemesis Morona had managed to end generations of distrust and hatred, he had to see it, for it could have very well been the dawn of a new era.
Apparently, a good mood was an intoxicating feeling. Since stumbling across that man affiliated with Nemesis Morona, things had started looking-up for Solomon. He had, had a complete night of sleep uninterrupted by his usual nightmares, and to top that off, he had made a complete recovery from the wounds he had sustained during his last encounter with The Elf and Wyvern-Kin. Of course, he didn't allow himself to become too intoxicated by his good mood, he had kept himself away from any populated areas in order to minimise the risk of being recognised by someone. He didn't know if the bounty was still on his head, and at this point he didn't care, all he was focused on was getting this object to Nemesis Morona.
In fact, since acquiring it, Solomon hadn't given the object much thought. Of course, he had spent some time looking at it, trying to figure out what it was. And had only managed to come to the conclusion that, whatever it was, it was not a rock, or other similar object, based on the weight to the object's size there was no way it could have been a rock of any kind. After that, he had simply cursed himself for being an idiot for even thinking that it was a rock and had then promptly given up trying figure out what it was and resolved to ask Nemesis Morona when he delivered the... whatever-it-was to him.
And almost surprisingly, even to Solomon. He had actually kept a very close watch on the mysterious object that he had been given. He held it carefully, and always kept it close to his person throughout the duration of his travel. In fact, he had even kept hold of it when he had managed to get that full-night's sleep. Although there were a huge number of reasons right now that he could use to explain that, he decided against going into too much detail with his analysis and simply put it down to his good mood. Whatever the real reason was, it was irrelevant to Solomon, he was in a good mood and that was all that mattered, in fact, there was even a day that held a special place of hatred in Solomon's heart that was rapidly approaching that, due to his good mood, he was able to completely ignore... his birthday.
Although he hadn't slept over the previous two days, Solomon had never felt better. Today was even that cursed day. And for the first time in a long time, Solomon simply didn't care. No taunting messages from Mentor Aeon, no "visits" from The Elf and Wyvern-kin. And to top all of that off, Solomon had finally reached an area in which he could fully celebrate his recovery, and had spent several hours simply leaping among the tree-tops, laughing in the usual elation such a task brought. He had even managed it with only a single hand as he still kept hold of the object that he had been entrusted with.
All good things had to come to an end, however, and now here he was, simply washing himself in the lake that flanked the small forested area a short distance from the desert. It was a risky move on his part, he could admit that. However, his detour had left him undersupplied so he had, had to stop off at one of his hidden camps sooner-or-later in order to resupply himself. Even now, partially submerged in the lake, and naked in the water, Solomon kept the object within arm's reach -along with the rest of his gear- just to be sure that he could grab it at a moment's notice. Until he had safely delivered the thing to Nemesis Morona, it was under his protection, and if necessary he would defend it with his life.
Even when he completely submersed himself in the water, he only did so in short bursts in order to clean his hair. He didn't stay beneath the surface for any more than several seconds at any one time. Even when he knew that there was no-one around, he wasn't taking any chances. Perhaps it was the sense of purpose that this delivery gave him, or the chance that Morona's people accepted Hunters as their own, either way, it strengthened his resolve and made him more determined.
Although still curious as to what Nemesis Morona had managed to accomplish during his time here, Solomon had actually slowed down since washing himself in the lake, and now he simply lie on the back of his Wyvern-skin coat, allowing himself to dry off slowly, with his arms resting behind his head, and one leg crossed over the other, Solomon simply lie staring up at the sky for no particular reason. He was in no real rush right now, and there were no present threats, heck, even if there were Solomon knew that he could deal with them, regardless of whether or not he was naked and unarmed.
He drew in a deep breath, closing his eyes gently as he enjoyed the feeling of the warm sun on his skin. Letting the breath loose in a heavy sigh, Solomon continued to stare up into the sky. The last few days had put him in such good spirits that he actually felt that it would be impossible to ruin his good mood right now. In fact, there were only two things that could possibly come close to bringing his spirits crashing down, and while there may not have been any Wyverns here, the second item of the two was still a possibility, even if he hadn't seen them is quite some time.
He was interrupted from his thoughts by the sound of an unfamiliar noise. He blinked, trying to place it, it was far too close to be an approaching threat, and the fact that he hadn't been attacked yet meant that it was not a present threat. He looked to his side and felt his eyes widen involuntarily as he caught sight of the black object. Whatever it was, it had started rocking on the spot. Solomon blinked again... inanimate objects didn't usually do that.
Solomon remained where he lie, unmoving even as the object stopped rocking. There was a short silence, allowing Solomon to briefly start wondering what he had before once again, the object started rocking. This time more violently than the last. Still unable to identify the object Solomon simply remained motionless, staring at it. Just what in the ever-loving Hell had he been given to courier to Nemesis Morona? Was this thing cursed, or under some kind of enchantment? Had that been why Nemesis Morona had wanted it in the first place? In fact, as he thought back to the man he had encountered, he hadn't even told Solomon that Nemesis Morona had wanted it, just that it needed to be delivered to him.
Solomon silently cursed the fact that he had not been more inquisitive as once again the object stopped rocking. Now he was conflicted, since this was in some way a favour to the man whom had graciously helped him fake his death roughly seven years ago, Solomon felt compelled to see this task through to the very end. But now, looking at this object, he began to wonder exactly what he had just gotten himself involved in. He already had The Elf and Wyvern-kin out for his blood, he didn't need anyone else swearing a vendetta against him. Nevertheless, Solomon remained where he was, unmoving, simply watching the object to see if it would start making those odd movements again.
As it turned out, he didn't have to wait very long for the object's apparent struggle to renew. Only this time, it began to rock with more force. In fact, this time around it seemed to be struggling with so much force that it even span on the spot several times before rolling, and then falling still only to start violently rocking again. Finding himself oddly entranced by this confusing turn-of-events, Solomon was unable to tear his eyes from the scene before him. His confusion was now matched by an odd sense of curiosity, just what was this object, and what was it doing? Watching the object as it tried to accomplish... whatever it wanted to accomplish right now was almost fascinating, whatever it was trying to do, Solomon had been able to figure out that it was clearly struggling to get it done.
The object fell still again, and Solomon simply continued staring at it. He waited for the movements to begin again, at this point he actually wanted the thing to succeed in its struggles just so that he could try to figure out what it was. The object began trembling gently on the spot, as if angry that its efforts so far had been in vain. It trembled in silence for several long moments, as if trying to find a weakness with itself, and then-
The object seemed to emit an odd, high-pitched squeak-like sound. Solomon found himself blinking, that was new... in fact, at this point Solomon was about to say that whatever this thing was, it was clearly not simply an object of any kind. The presence of sound had to indicate life of some kind, especially when he now knew that it was capable of making sound by itself. The thing continued to tremble, and then it fell still again. There was another one of those odd, high-pitched squeaking sounds and the thing rocked once, only this time a crack split the surface.
Solomon's eyes widened and his breath caught for several seconds as he came to a realisation, what he had originally passed off as some kind of simple object, and had made no further effort to figure out had in fact been some kind of egg. That was the only conclusion that made sense at this point. And even now, Solomon found himself unable to tear his eyes away from the thing, eggs didn't usually appear the way the one he had been carrying did. He still found himself oddly curious as to what the creature inside could possibly be. Silence had fallen since the first crack had split the surface of the egg, and still Solomon waited. The creature still trying to escape the confines of the egg emitted its apparently usual high-pitched squeaking sound again, and once again the egg rocked violently and another crack split the surface as the creature inside another effort at earning its freedom.
Silence fell yet again, and then with another squeak the egg rocked violently, and yet another crack split the surface. This continued for several moments in an almost rhythmic sequence, the cracks that now split the surface of the egg gradually grew bigger and eventually grew into each other. With the integrity of the egg now thoroughly weakened, it didn't take much for the rest of the structure to give way. And the second that Solomon saw the creature freed from its egg he was immediately gripped by a strong sense of revulsion. Sat on the ground, a short distance away from the egg that had once contained it, was a small black dragon. Currently, its eyes were closed as it seemed to instinctively lick off the fluids from inside the egg that still coated its body. Solomon's eyes narrowed as his predatory drive took hold, with the vile little lizard distracted with itself Solomon blindly groped along the edges of his wyvern-skin coat for one of his knives. Briefly forgetting the reason he had taken this task in the first place.
His eyes were locked firmly on his prey, he knew better than to take his eyes off of this creature, no matter how small it was. He took note of the way its white claws and fangs stood out in stark contrast to the rest of its black body. His lips pulled back slightly into a small snarl, he could already see the characteristic "evil grin" playing across its mouth. He watched its ever movement, his unblinking gaze watching as it failed to notice him after cleaning itself off and as it immediately turned its back to him in order to look around. He watched the vile little creature as it stretched its wings with one of those high-pitched squeaks he had heard it emit from within its egg. Almost as if it was now announcing its new found freedom to the world around it. He even watched as it seemed to lose interest in its surroundings, and as it turned to face him-
Almost immediately, all of the hatred drained from Solomon and he suddenly sat bolt upright and inhaled sharply, his wyvern-skin coat briefly sticking to his back as he moved. Those eyes... that seamless blend of almost yellowish-gold, they even had the luminescence. At once, Solomon's eyes closed tightly and his hand moved up and was soon tenderly placed over his scars.
He could see its glowing eyes.
Lowering his hand, Solomon drew in a long, deep breath and then opened his eyes. He avoided looking at the little-lizard's eyes by looking at it out of the corner of his own eyes, it stood with its head titled slightly, and with its eyes wide as it looked at him. Almost as if it was confused by his reaction to it. Solomon snorted, Nemesis Morona be damned, Solomon could still very easily go into hiding and make it impossible for others to find him. There was quite simply no way he would ferry that vile little lizard any further. He was about to take one of his knives and lunge for the little lizard when it took an almost curious step in his direction.
Solomon's reaction was immediate, he dropped the idea of reaching for any of his knives and almost instinctively shuffled away from it without so much as standing up. The little lizard stopped in its tracks and tilted its head again, apparently once more looking confused by Solomon's action. However, its confusion this time was short-lived as it rapidly took another curious step in his direction. Solomon snarled at it and shuffled away from it again. However, it simply took another step in his direction, and then another. It was moving towards him faster than he could shuffle away from it. Solomon growled his frustration, and as soon as it was within arm's reach to him, Solomon's left arm shot out in an attempt to grab it.
The second his hand made contact with the little lizard, a blast of painfully cold energy shot its way through Solomon's left arm and throughout his body, the pain that suddenly wracked his body more than easily matched the pain he felt when he had sustained that blow to the head from the Wyvern. From there, multiple things occurred in rapid succession, Solomon somehow managed to emit a sound that was caught somewhere between a feral growl and a scream of pain, he heard several sounds that he was sure were a construct of the shock of the pain still coursing throughout his body and he fell backwards, hitting the ground hard despite the fact he was already sat down. After which, he lie on the ground twitching gently and unable to move any further as the pain of... whatever-the-hell-just-happened continued to persist.
He drew in slow, deep breaths as he remained immobile, unable to push himself into another position even through sheer force-of-will. He despised the idea of being left this vulnerable for any length of time, but since his body seemed to be little more than a lead weight right now, there was little else he could do but endure. Time crawled by at an agonisingly slow pace, but eventually the feeling gradually began to return to Solomon's body with an equally agonising slowness. Drawing in a deep breath as though he had just stopped holding his breath, Solomon sat bolt-upright clutching his left hand to his chest. Multiple unpleasant sensations coursed through the aforementioned hand, causing Solomon to hunch over himself just to see if such an action would alleviate the sensations. Of course, he knew better than to think it would, and much to his expectations the sensations persisted.
Time continue to slip by at a slower-than-usual pace for Solomon even as his breathing slowed. He gradually began to notice another series of sensations as the full-range of control over his body returned to him. The first thing he noticed was that he had become unusually tired, the second thing he had noticed was that he was now also cold, and the third thing he noticed was that there was an almost feeble mind brushing against his own. Immediately, Solomon withdrew from the contact, however, he was unable to muster the coherent thought-processes he needed in order to raise his mental barriers.
In fact, Solomon's thoughts were oddly disjointed right now. He shot the little-lizard a death-glare, to which it simply looked back at him with wide-eyes and cocked its head to the side slightly. Once again, Solomon felt the other mind brush against his, only this time it was stronger, and more persistent. Solomon once again tried to withdraw from the contact, but his disjointed mind made a usually simple task difficult. The mind ultimately made contact with his, and from it Solomon felt the sensation of an almost overpowering hunger. Solomon paused, and then the realisation hit him, that feeling was coming from the little-lizard!
He felt an almost warm recognition from the little-lizard at that realisation. Solomon's eyes widened and his breath caught. And without a second thought, he sprang to his feet. However, his sudden surge of fatigue only caused his feet to slip from beneath him, making him fall to the floor with all the grace of a cow-on-ice. Solomon, grunted with the pain that brought, however, he didn't stop to acknowledge the pain, he immediately returned to a sitting position and started grabbing his clothes. The little-lizard took a step towards him, however, Solomon stopped, and then both glared and growled at it.
"Nein! Keep your distance!"
He grunted to it, before returning to his task of clothing himself. However, his response seemed to have no affect on the little-lizard as it simply flared its wings as if in celebration as it let out one of its odd little squeaking sounds and then bounded in his direction. The feeling of overwhelming hunger was suddenly matched by an odd kind of joy as the little lizard drew closer to him. Solomon, however, had already managed fully clothe his lower-half and ad just finished refastening his greaves to his boots, he wanted nothing to do with this lizard. Grabbing his wyvern-skin chest-plate, his wyvern-skin coat and the rest of his gear, Solomon once again went to stand up, but once more his fatigued body betrayed him and he ended up simply falling back to the ground. Arrows fell from their quiver and scattered on the ground before him, that was fine. He had plenty of arrows elsewhere, he was more concerned about his bow. This time, he felt what he could only describe as concern from the little-lizard, which only caused Solomon to feel rage as he cast a glance back at the thing.
"Stay away from me."
He snarled at it, slowly pushing himself to his feet, this time. His head swam, and his legs trembled as his fatigued body attempted to protest his action. However, through force-of-will Solomon remained on his feet and took a sluggish step forwards, towards the forested area nearby. Of course, once again, the little-lizard followed him, looking at him with wide-eyes, Solomon once more snarled at it, but this time he said nothing more and simply took another sluggish step in the direction of the forested area.
Much like everything else that had taken place since discovering what the object he was ferrying to Nemesis Morona was, even the short walk to the forested area passed at an agonisingly slow rate. Which of course, was made all the worse by the little-lizard's constant mental distractions, by the time he had reached the first tree of the small forested area, Solomon's fatigued state coupled with that irritating little-lizard had enraged him... so much for being in a good mood.
The past three days had passed at a pace that had only served to further aggravate and enrage Solomon, despite his fatigued state, Solomon had been unable to get very much, if any sleep. In fact, the only two good things that Solomon could draw from his current situation right now was that, the burning itch that had been searing his left hand three days ago had stopped irritating him, and that the little-lizard had proven itself to at least be capable of hunting small creatures for itself -which had been equally shocking, especially since it managed to catch something for itself on the same day it had hatched- however, everything else had still been more than enough to put Solomon in something that likely would have been a murderous rage if he hadn't been so fatigued right now.
The little lizard for the most part had continued to play the role it seemed to be proud of, and that was irritating Solomon as much as it possibly could. it never strayed too far from him for any reason, and whenever the night did end up falling, it usually positioned itself as close as it possibly could to Solomon in order to sleep.
In fact, the first night it had done that, Solomon had been half-asleep himself and had woken up with a start and fallen utterly still and rigid upon discovering the little-lizard so close to him. After that sleep had just ended up becoming that much more difficult for Solomon to achieve. Although, now, his mind and his thoughts were so disjointed that he was beginning to consider continuing his trip to Nemesis Morona, perhaps if he could deliver the little-lizard to Nemesis Morona then he could be rid of the thing and attempt to collect himself that way.
In fact, it was that thought which strengthened his resolve enough to keep himself moving and not just collapse. By now he was so fatigued that he was having to use the trees to support himself just so that he could stand up, and because of that his progress was slower now than it had been three days ago. He had to stop between each tree in order to regain his strength enough to start moving again, a slow process that the little-lizard was currently making even slower as it seemed to want to weave in between his legs as he walked, already it had nearly made him trip several times, and each and every time its joy apparently only increased. He shook his head sharply, trying to rid himself of its presence, whatever it had done to him, surely it would fade once he got rid of it. He shook his head again as he felt the little-lizard express some kind of feeling that he currently could not place. Damned fatigue, if it wasn't for that Solomon wouldn't be having this trouble right now.
Walk, stop, rest, walk, stop, rest. It was a dull cycle and one that Solomon forced himself to repeat ad nauseam. The longer he walked, the less time he had to spend trying to rid himself of that very irritating mind that was now constantly within his own mind. Solomon bared his teeth in a feral snarl as once more he nearly tripped over the damned little-lizard. However, this time he had been close enough to a tree and was able to use it to stop his fall before it started. Leaning against the tree, Solomon remained still. His entire body was trembling now, soon enough he wouldn't even be able to force himself to stay standing. He felt concern from the other mind, and shook his head sharply again, growling.
Whatever it wanted, Solomon wasn't paying it any attention. If he collapsed, then good. Maybe it would free him from this irritating contact with the little-lizard. He began moving again, pushing himself off of the tree he had been resting against and moving forwards at the snails-pace that he had been moving at for a while now. He could just about see tree-line now, and the ground outside the forested area, that was enough to embolden his resolve. He stopped to rest for half the time he had spent resting against the other trees and then moved forward at the kind of pace he would usually walk in. His fatigued body immediately protested and at once Solomon began stumbling as he walked, however, he kept himself moving through sheer force-of-will. Briefly placing his hands against the trees he did end up walking past if only to keep himself walking steady.
He broke through the border of the forested area, and once again found himself facing the lake that the little-lizard had hatched at. Her could still see his arrows scattered across the ground in the distance, along with the remaining fragments that had been the little-lizard's egg. But he paid those no mind, his sights were ultimately set on a single tree a short distance away from the border of the forested area he had just emerged from. If he could just reach that tree, then he would be able to take another rest before continuing in the direction of Nemesis Morona's village.
He steeled himself and walked forward, his legs threatening to give way at any second. Yet Solomon continued to ignore the protests of his fatigued body, he was going to make it as far as that individual tree. As far as he was concerned, that much was non-negotiable. As if to argue against him, however, Solomon's legs gave way from beneath him, and he staggered forward by several, large steps. With a snarl, Solomon forced one foot to remain in place when it hit the floor in his enforced stagger forward. He bowed forward dangerously as his momentum was suddenly halted, but he did not fall to the floor. Solomon found himself bark in humourless laughter at his completely meaningless victory, only to once again feel concern from that other damned mind.
Solomon shook his head sharply again, trying to yet again rid himself of the intrusive mind and then continued to move forward, only this time, he moved at a pace that wouldn't push his fatigued body too far. He eventually reached his target with no further stumbling and half-collapsed into the tree as he leaned against it, breathing heavily. He had made it this far, now he just needed to wait for his body to recover enough in order to start moving again. He looked back down at the little-lizard, which was once again stood close-by staring at him with wide-eyes, Solomon grunted and avoided eye-contact, looking away from it as he slouched just that little bit more into the tree.
"D-don't you ever shut up?"
He mumbled as he shook his head sharply again... yes, so much for his good mood.
Drawing in a deep breath The Hunter looked up and leaned back against the trunk of the three he had chosen to sleep in for the night. It was still dark out, and although it was generally difficult to tell, Solomon knew that he hadn't slept for very long. Maybe two hours if he was lucky, but in all brutal honesty, that was just a pure guess on his part, his sense of time had become so twisted and distorted ever since The Elf and his Wyvern-kin had managed to gain the upper-hand that it had become next to impossible for him to be able to tell.
As his thoughts turned to them they inevitably also turned to that little feathered traitor, as well. All of the pain and humiliation that Solomon had suffered at their hands could all unquestionably be traced back to Aimé. The signs had just been far too perfect to ignore, especially when The Elf and Wyvern-kin had started tracking him to his hidden-base camps with perfect accuracy. Solomon snarled silently to himself, his fists clenching in anger as he thought of that little feathered traitor, and what he was going to do to Aimé if he ever managed to get his hands on him. Whatever The Elf had made him endure, Solomon would make seem like a pleasant experience by comparison, he would make Aimé suffer.
Of course, Solomon hadn't been careless with his trust of Aimé, he had fully prepared several other hidden base-camps around the land just in case the feathered coward did get captured. However, he didn't care travel to them while recovering from the injuries that The Elf and Wyvern-kind had inflicted upon him, they knew what they were doing enough to leave him just injured enough to significantly slow his travelling speed in order to make him easier to track, and every time he neared a point where he could make himself disappear they struck again. It had become almost painfully obvious to him over time that they were playing with him, and that idea both humiliated him further and infuriated him beyond belief. Although, he had noticed that every time that he had woken up -with a little "gift" left for him from them- it had always been in one of his known hidden base-camps. He had come to the conclusion that they had been trying to keep their continuing feud with him out-of-sight, and while he had tried his best to hid in a populated area, they seemed to have likewise cottoned on to the fact that he had realised what they were doing and made it impossible for him to get within several miles of any populated areas.
He drew in a deep breath, he wasn't going to help himself by getting angry when it would avail him nothing. For the time being it would be better for him to try and get some more sleep, no matter how unlikely it was to happen. He needed to at least try and keep his strength up, and keep his wits about him, he needed to at least make sure that he could function well enough to continue moving, for whatever reason The Elf and Wyvern-kin hadn't come looking for him in quite some time. And Solomon was well on his way to recovery, if he could just keep his strength up then he would soon be able to make himself vanish. Slowly, he closed his eyes again, attempting to drift back off to sleep. Drawing in a deep breath as he allowed his mind to drift, the thought of being able to go into hiding doing its part to keep him relaxed enough to drift off to sleep again.
---
His resolution had made sleeping through the rest of the night somewhat easier, the nightmares had become more subdued, and he ended up waking up only once more throughout the night. And thanks to that, Solomon currently felt better than he had done in quite some time, and despite a still lingering sense of unease he was able to walk with something close to a spring in his step. Things were beginning to look up, at least for the time being anyway. Then again, Solomon usually felt this way after a good night's sleep, such things were so rare for him that he always woke up in a good mood.
In spite of the risk involved, Solomon walked at a brisk pace towards one of his hidden camps -he still hadn't recovered enough to be able to use the trees just yet, but he was getting close.- he needed to get some supplies. At the top of his list would of course be several vials of explosive compound, they may not have shown themselves in a while, but this time Solomon was taking no chances, if they came for him again, he would make ever y effort to put them down using the vials of explosive compound that he had at his disposal. In his mind's-eye, they had already taken so much from him that the only way to get even now was to kill them.
He found his fists clenching again, When he had left Empire Nirvana he had originally thought that it would be impossible for him to come to hate anyone more than he hated Mentor Aeon, however, with the way things were going so far The Elf and Wyvern-kin were coming very close. The only difference between them and Mentor Aeon, however, was the fact that he didn't respect them, and he wouldn't hesitate to kill them if he ever got the chance. He drew in another deep breath, no, he had to remind himself yet again, that getting angry was the very reason he had managed to beat The Elf and Wyvern-kin in the first place, if he let his emotions get the better of him then he had already lost. He wasn't going to let them get to him any further, they weren't going to win anything, Solomon was determined to make sure of that. So far they had idiotically allowed him to live, as far as he was concerned that was going to be the mistake that cost them, just as it had been the mistake that had cost him. He was already well on his way to making a full recovery, the next time they came across him, Solomon would be ready. And he would not allow their knowledge of that vile name to rile him up, not until they were both lying defeated and broken at his feet, only then would he allow himself to snap.
He pushed his thoughts of revenge to the back of his mind as he continued to walk, allowing himself to focus on other things in order to calm himself down. Of course, no matter what happened, Solomon would need to find his source of death-on-his-terms, and get his precious Wyvern-Slayer back, but he needed to take things one step at a time. He would allow his frustration, and his humiliation to remain bottled up until he could release them at the source of his ire. And when that happened, nothing would be able to save them from him. It would be a glorious day, Solomon had already proven beyond any doubt what humans were capable of and he would do it again, it was just a matter of patience.
Slowly, but surely, Solomon's good mood prevailed over his rage and he was soon moving with that similar near-spring in his step. He allowed his thoughts to travel to the matter he had been debating with himself for several days now, and that was which of his hidden camps -the ones that Aimé did not know of- he would go to in order to make himself vanish. He had already admitted to himself that he had grown to like that mountainous region to the south-east of the land, which had been part of the reason behind setting up a hidden camp there, but, then again, there was also that little isle off the coast. The options where there, it was just a matter of deciding which one he would travel to.
He was jolted from his internal debate, however, at the sudden sound of laboured, heavy breathing and grunts of what sounded like something stuck between pain and exertion. Solomon's reaction to the sound was immediate, crouching slightly, he drew his bow from its holster and opened it while drawing and fitting an arrow to it all in one swift, and graceful movement. He waited several long moments, sweeping his gaze and his readied bow in broad arcs around the vicinity, whoever was making those sounds was close, that much was obvious.
When he was confident that there was no incoming attack, he slowed down, but kept his bow at the ready. He spent several long moments simply listening to the noise and pinpointing its location before he turned in its direction and slowly advanced in its direction.
It didn't take Solomon long to locate the source of the noises as a very clearly wounded man, leaning against a tree with something clutched tightly to his chest with one hand while he used the other to keep himself stood steady. He took a moment to take-in the sight, this man was clearly a warrior of some kind, dark-metal chainmail was worn beneath a black-with-red-trim surcoat, with dark-metal gauntlets covering both arms, and similar dark-metal greaves covering his legs. He was hunched over the dark object he held to his chest, which, judging by the arrows protruding from his back, he had used his body as a shield for. The man suddenly looked up at Solomon, an expression of tired defiance shining through the glazed-over look in his eyes. Solomon blinked, he couldn't tell how long the man had been like this for. But what he could tell, was that this man was on his feet through nothing more than sheer force-of-will. He had been there himself.
"Gehen Sie voran! Ich werde nicht viel länger leben irgendwie!"
The man snarled at Solomon. Now everything suddenly began to add-up, the familiarity of the colour scheme on the surcoat, the dark-metal armour. This man was a Nirvanian. Slowly, Solomon lowered his bow and returned his arrow to its quiver. He didn't think much of this man, but the situation he was in was something that Solomon could at least sympathise with.
"Was geschah Ihnen? Wie erhielten Sie hier?"
Solomon asked as he collapsed his bow and returned it to the holster on his lower back. The man's expression gave way to shock, which was rapidly replaced with relief as he fell into a sitting position, breathing heavily. He let out a heavy sigh of relief, managing to mutter the word "Nirvanian" as the breath left his body. Solomon blinked, clearly this man now thought he was able to give-up now that Solomon was here.
"Wir versuchten, dort waren… zu viele. Ich blieb hinten… erlaube meinen Kameraden zu entgehen. Aber es gab eine… Komplikation, und ich musste dieses schützen."
He said slowly as Solomon approached and knelt down in front of him. He took note of the rest of the surcoat's design, drawing in a rapid breath he sharply -and subtly- averted his gaze from the unmistakeable image of a Wyvern's eye that was stitched into the chest area of the surcoat. That meant that this man was one of Nemesis Morona's men, there was no way he could be anyone else, but what was he doing out here? what interest did Nemesis Morona have in the strange object that the man had been protecting? And how had he even managed to get away from his pursuers? Whatever the story, Solomon didn't try to make sense of it.
"Bitte müssen Sie dieses an Nemesis Morona liefern, damit es zu seinem rechtmäßigen Platz zurückgebracht werden kann. Ich bin verloren… Aber, wenn dieses geliefert werden kann, bin ich nicht ausgefallen. Bitte schulde ich Nemesis Morona, der viel."
The man pleaded, holding out what looked like a relatively large, polished black rock of some kind toward Solomon. Solomon blinked. He thought nothing of this man, but, he did owe Nemesis Morona a lot. If this was a favour to Nemesis Morona, then Solomon couldn't just ignore it. Not after he had written history the way Solomon had asked him to before he had left to deal with the abomination behind The Incident. He nodded gently to the man, taking the odd object from his grasp with both hands. It was lighter than it had looked, but Solomon paid that no mind, the unexpectedly light weight would simply mean that this object would not slow Solomon down while on his way to Nemesis Morona's village. He had a rough idea of where it was, all he had to do was avoid The Elf and The Wyvern-kin if they were to come looking for him. Especially if this was something that the people of this land would consider to be unsavoury.
"Sehr gut liefere ich dieses an Nemesis Morona. Wurde Sie mögen mich Ihr Leiden beenden?"
He replied. Asking a question to a Commoner that he wouldn't normally ask. However, The Commoner simply shook his head.
"Nein, dort ist keine Zeit. Sie müssen das an Nemesis Morona liefern sich bewegen bitte schnell Master Hunter Solomon Wyvern-Slayer Latro."
He replied. Solomon's breath caught briefly, this man knew who he was and had still entrusted this task to him? What had Nemesis Morona done to make a Commoner trust a Hunter? The man smiled briefly before the light left his eyes and he fell silent. Solomon remained rooted to the spot in stunned silence for several long moments. Had it been the fact that the man had been dying? Or had he genuinely trusted Solomon with delivering this object to Nemesis Morona? An odd sensation took root in Solomon's chest at the idea of a Commoner trusting him, a Hunter. Whatever Nemesis Morona had done with his leadership, he had to see this. If he somehow had Commoners trusting Hunters then maybe Solomon had his destination set in-mind after all. He stayed here he was a moment longer, and then did something unheard of, he bowed his head and then touched his insignia with the tips of his fingers, muttering the words.
"Rest im Frieden."
Before altering his position and proceeding in the opposite direction to the one he had initially been walking in. His focus now on reaching Nemesis Morona was swiftly as he could. If the commoners there were not only trusting of Hunters but actually accepting of them, he had to see it. He had to see if Nemesis Morona had managed to end generations of distrust and hatred, he had to see it, for it could have very well been the dawn of a new era.
---
Apparently, a good mood was an intoxicating feeling. Since stumbling across that man affiliated with Nemesis Morona, things had started looking-up for Solomon. He had, had a complete night of sleep uninterrupted by his usual nightmares, and to top that off, he had made a complete recovery from the wounds he had sustained during his last encounter with The Elf and Wyvern-Kin. Of course, he didn't allow himself to become too intoxicated by his good mood, he had kept himself away from any populated areas in order to minimise the risk of being recognised by someone. He didn't know if the bounty was still on his head, and at this point he didn't care, all he was focused on was getting this object to Nemesis Morona.
In fact, since acquiring it, Solomon hadn't given the object much thought. Of course, he had spent some time looking at it, trying to figure out what it was. And had only managed to come to the conclusion that, whatever it was, it was not a rock, or other similar object, based on the weight to the object's size there was no way it could have been a rock of any kind. After that, he had simply cursed himself for being an idiot for even thinking that it was a rock and had then promptly given up trying figure out what it was and resolved to ask Nemesis Morona when he delivered the... whatever-it-was to him.
And almost surprisingly, even to Solomon. He had actually kept a very close watch on the mysterious object that he had been given. He held it carefully, and always kept it close to his person throughout the duration of his travel. In fact, he had even kept hold of it when he had managed to get that full-night's sleep. Although there were a huge number of reasons right now that he could use to explain that, he decided against going into too much detail with his analysis and simply put it down to his good mood. Whatever the real reason was, it was irrelevant to Solomon, he was in a good mood and that was all that mattered, in fact, there was even a day that held a special place of hatred in Solomon's heart that was rapidly approaching that, due to his good mood, he was able to completely ignore... his birthday.
---
Although he hadn't slept over the previous two days, Solomon had never felt better. Today was even that cursed day. And for the first time in a long time, Solomon simply didn't care. No taunting messages from Mentor Aeon, no "visits" from The Elf and Wyvern-kin. And to top all of that off, Solomon had finally reached an area in which he could fully celebrate his recovery, and had spent several hours simply leaping among the tree-tops, laughing in the usual elation such a task brought. He had even managed it with only a single hand as he still kept hold of the object that he had been entrusted with.
All good things had to come to an end, however, and now here he was, simply washing himself in the lake that flanked the small forested area a short distance from the desert. It was a risky move on his part, he could admit that. However, his detour had left him undersupplied so he had, had to stop off at one of his hidden camps sooner-or-later in order to resupply himself. Even now, partially submerged in the lake, and naked in the water, Solomon kept the object within arm's reach -along with the rest of his gear- just to be sure that he could grab it at a moment's notice. Until he had safely delivered the thing to Nemesis Morona, it was under his protection, and if necessary he would defend it with his life.
Even when he completely submersed himself in the water, he only did so in short bursts in order to clean his hair. He didn't stay beneath the surface for any more than several seconds at any one time. Even when he knew that there was no-one around, he wasn't taking any chances. Perhaps it was the sense of purpose that this delivery gave him, or the chance that Morona's people accepted Hunters as their own, either way, it strengthened his resolve and made him more determined.
Although still curious as to what Nemesis Morona had managed to accomplish during his time here, Solomon had actually slowed down since washing himself in the lake, and now he simply lie on the back of his Wyvern-skin coat, allowing himself to dry off slowly, with his arms resting behind his head, and one leg crossed over the other, Solomon simply lie staring up at the sky for no particular reason. He was in no real rush right now, and there were no present threats, heck, even if there were Solomon knew that he could deal with them, regardless of whether or not he was naked and unarmed.
He drew in a deep breath, closing his eyes gently as he enjoyed the feeling of the warm sun on his skin. Letting the breath loose in a heavy sigh, Solomon continued to stare up into the sky. The last few days had put him in such good spirits that he actually felt that it would be impossible to ruin his good mood right now. In fact, there were only two things that could possibly come close to bringing his spirits crashing down, and while there may not have been any Wyverns here, the second item of the two was still a possibility, even if he hadn't seen them is quite some time.
He was interrupted from his thoughts by the sound of an unfamiliar noise. He blinked, trying to place it, it was far too close to be an approaching threat, and the fact that he hadn't been attacked yet meant that it was not a present threat. He looked to his side and felt his eyes widen involuntarily as he caught sight of the black object. Whatever it was, it had started rocking on the spot. Solomon blinked again... inanimate objects didn't usually do that.
Solomon remained where he lie, unmoving even as the object stopped rocking. There was a short silence, allowing Solomon to briefly start wondering what he had before once again, the object started rocking. This time more violently than the last. Still unable to identify the object Solomon simply remained motionless, staring at it. Just what in the ever-loving Hell had he been given to courier to Nemesis Morona? Was this thing cursed, or under some kind of enchantment? Had that been why Nemesis Morona had wanted it in the first place? In fact, as he thought back to the man he had encountered, he hadn't even told Solomon that Nemesis Morona had wanted it, just that it needed to be delivered to him.
Solomon silently cursed the fact that he had not been more inquisitive as once again the object stopped rocking. Now he was conflicted, since this was in some way a favour to the man whom had graciously helped him fake his death roughly seven years ago, Solomon felt compelled to see this task through to the very end. But now, looking at this object, he began to wonder exactly what he had just gotten himself involved in. He already had The Elf and Wyvern-kin out for his blood, he didn't need anyone else swearing a vendetta against him. Nevertheless, Solomon remained where he was, unmoving, simply watching the object to see if it would start making those odd movements again.
As it turned out, he didn't have to wait very long for the object's apparent struggle to renew. Only this time, it began to rock with more force. In fact, this time around it seemed to be struggling with so much force that it even span on the spot several times before rolling, and then falling still only to start violently rocking again. Finding himself oddly entranced by this confusing turn-of-events, Solomon was unable to tear his eyes from the scene before him. His confusion was now matched by an odd sense of curiosity, just what was this object, and what was it doing? Watching the object as it tried to accomplish... whatever it wanted to accomplish right now was almost fascinating, whatever it was trying to do, Solomon had been able to figure out that it was clearly struggling to get it done.
The object fell still again, and Solomon simply continued staring at it. He waited for the movements to begin again, at this point he actually wanted the thing to succeed in its struggles just so that he could try to figure out what it was. The object began trembling gently on the spot, as if angry that its efforts so far had been in vain. It trembled in silence for several long moments, as if trying to find a weakness with itself, and then-
The object seemed to emit an odd, high-pitched squeak-like sound. Solomon found himself blinking, that was new... in fact, at this point Solomon was about to say that whatever this thing was, it was clearly not simply an object of any kind. The presence of sound had to indicate life of some kind, especially when he now knew that it was capable of making sound by itself. The thing continued to tremble, and then it fell still again. There was another one of those odd, high-pitched squeaking sounds and the thing rocked once, only this time a crack split the surface.
Solomon's eyes widened and his breath caught for several seconds as he came to a realisation, what he had originally passed off as some kind of simple object, and had made no further effort to figure out had in fact been some kind of egg. That was the only conclusion that made sense at this point. And even now, Solomon found himself unable to tear his eyes away from the thing, eggs didn't usually appear the way the one he had been carrying did. He still found himself oddly curious as to what the creature inside could possibly be. Silence had fallen since the first crack had split the surface of the egg, and still Solomon waited. The creature still trying to escape the confines of the egg emitted its apparently usual high-pitched squeaking sound again, and once again the egg rocked violently and another crack split the surface as the creature inside another effort at earning its freedom.
Silence fell yet again, and then with another squeak the egg rocked violently, and yet another crack split the surface. This continued for several moments in an almost rhythmic sequence, the cracks that now split the surface of the egg gradually grew bigger and eventually grew into each other. With the integrity of the egg now thoroughly weakened, it didn't take much for the rest of the structure to give way. And the second that Solomon saw the creature freed from its egg he was immediately gripped by a strong sense of revulsion. Sat on the ground, a short distance away from the egg that had once contained it, was a small black dragon. Currently, its eyes were closed as it seemed to instinctively lick off the fluids from inside the egg that still coated its body. Solomon's eyes narrowed as his predatory drive took hold, with the vile little lizard distracted with itself Solomon blindly groped along the edges of his wyvern-skin coat for one of his knives. Briefly forgetting the reason he had taken this task in the first place.
His eyes were locked firmly on his prey, he knew better than to take his eyes off of this creature, no matter how small it was. He took note of the way its white claws and fangs stood out in stark contrast to the rest of its black body. His lips pulled back slightly into a small snarl, he could already see the characteristic "evil grin" playing across its mouth. He watched its ever movement, his unblinking gaze watching as it failed to notice him after cleaning itself off and as it immediately turned its back to him in order to look around. He watched the vile little creature as it stretched its wings with one of those high-pitched squeaks he had heard it emit from within its egg. Almost as if it was now announcing its new found freedom to the world around it. He even watched as it seemed to lose interest in its surroundings, and as it turned to face him-
Almost immediately, all of the hatred drained from Solomon and he suddenly sat bolt upright and inhaled sharply, his wyvern-skin coat briefly sticking to his back as he moved. Those eyes... that seamless blend of almost yellowish-gold, they even had the luminescence. At once, Solomon's eyes closed tightly and his hand moved up and was soon tenderly placed over his scars.
He could see its glowing eyes.
Lowering his hand, Solomon drew in a long, deep breath and then opened his eyes. He avoided looking at the little-lizard's eyes by looking at it out of the corner of his own eyes, it stood with its head titled slightly, and with its eyes wide as it looked at him. Almost as if it was confused by his reaction to it. Solomon snorted, Nemesis Morona be damned, Solomon could still very easily go into hiding and make it impossible for others to find him. There was quite simply no way he would ferry that vile little lizard any further. He was about to take one of his knives and lunge for the little lizard when it took an almost curious step in his direction.
Solomon's reaction was immediate, he dropped the idea of reaching for any of his knives and almost instinctively shuffled away from it without so much as standing up. The little lizard stopped in its tracks and tilted its head again, apparently once more looking confused by Solomon's action. However, its confusion this time was short-lived as it rapidly took another curious step in his direction. Solomon snarled at it and shuffled away from it again. However, it simply took another step in his direction, and then another. It was moving towards him faster than he could shuffle away from it. Solomon growled his frustration, and as soon as it was within arm's reach to him, Solomon's left arm shot out in an attempt to grab it.
The second his hand made contact with the little lizard, a blast of painfully cold energy shot its way through Solomon's left arm and throughout his body, the pain that suddenly wracked his body more than easily matched the pain he felt when he had sustained that blow to the head from the Wyvern. From there, multiple things occurred in rapid succession, Solomon somehow managed to emit a sound that was caught somewhere between a feral growl and a scream of pain, he heard several sounds that he was sure were a construct of the shock of the pain still coursing throughout his body and he fell backwards, hitting the ground hard despite the fact he was already sat down. After which, he lie on the ground twitching gently and unable to move any further as the pain of... whatever-the-hell-just-happened continued to persist.
He drew in slow, deep breaths as he remained immobile, unable to push himself into another position even through sheer force-of-will. He despised the idea of being left this vulnerable for any length of time, but since his body seemed to be little more than a lead weight right now, there was little else he could do but endure. Time crawled by at an agonisingly slow pace, but eventually the feeling gradually began to return to Solomon's body with an equally agonising slowness. Drawing in a deep breath as though he had just stopped holding his breath, Solomon sat bolt-upright clutching his left hand to his chest. Multiple unpleasant sensations coursed through the aforementioned hand, causing Solomon to hunch over himself just to see if such an action would alleviate the sensations. Of course, he knew better than to think it would, and much to his expectations the sensations persisted.
Time continue to slip by at a slower-than-usual pace for Solomon even as his breathing slowed. He gradually began to notice another series of sensations as the full-range of control over his body returned to him. The first thing he noticed was that he had become unusually tired, the second thing he had noticed was that he was now also cold, and the third thing he noticed was that there was an almost feeble mind brushing against his own. Immediately, Solomon withdrew from the contact, however, he was unable to muster the coherent thought-processes he needed in order to raise his mental barriers.
In fact, Solomon's thoughts were oddly disjointed right now. He shot the little-lizard a death-glare, to which it simply looked back at him with wide-eyes and cocked its head to the side slightly. Once again, Solomon felt the other mind brush against his, only this time it was stronger, and more persistent. Solomon once again tried to withdraw from the contact, but his disjointed mind made a usually simple task difficult. The mind ultimately made contact with his, and from it Solomon felt the sensation of an almost overpowering hunger. Solomon paused, and then the realisation hit him, that feeling was coming from the little-lizard!
He felt an almost warm recognition from the little-lizard at that realisation. Solomon's eyes widened and his breath caught. And without a second thought, he sprang to his feet. However, his sudden surge of fatigue only caused his feet to slip from beneath him, making him fall to the floor with all the grace of a cow-on-ice. Solomon, grunted with the pain that brought, however, he didn't stop to acknowledge the pain, he immediately returned to a sitting position and started grabbing his clothes. The little-lizard took a step towards him, however, Solomon stopped, and then both glared and growled at it.
"Nein! Keep your distance!"
He grunted to it, before returning to his task of clothing himself. However, his response seemed to have no affect on the little-lizard as it simply flared its wings as if in celebration as it let out one of its odd little squeaking sounds and then bounded in his direction. The feeling of overwhelming hunger was suddenly matched by an odd kind of joy as the little lizard drew closer to him. Solomon, however, had already managed fully clothe his lower-half and ad just finished refastening his greaves to his boots, he wanted nothing to do with this lizard. Grabbing his wyvern-skin chest-plate, his wyvern-skin coat and the rest of his gear, Solomon once again went to stand up, but once more his fatigued body betrayed him and he ended up simply falling back to the ground. Arrows fell from their quiver and scattered on the ground before him, that was fine. He had plenty of arrows elsewhere, he was more concerned about his bow. This time, he felt what he could only describe as concern from the little-lizard, which only caused Solomon to feel rage as he cast a glance back at the thing.
"Stay away from me."
He snarled at it, slowly pushing himself to his feet, this time. His head swam, and his legs trembled as his fatigued body attempted to protest his action. However, through force-of-will Solomon remained on his feet and took a sluggish step forwards, towards the forested area nearby. Of course, once again, the little-lizard followed him, looking at him with wide-eyes, Solomon once more snarled at it, but this time he said nothing more and simply took another sluggish step in the direction of the forested area.
Much like everything else that had taken place since discovering what the object he was ferrying to Nemesis Morona was, even the short walk to the forested area passed at an agonisingly slow rate. Which of course, was made all the worse by the little-lizard's constant mental distractions, by the time he had reached the first tree of the small forested area, Solomon's fatigued state coupled with that irritating little-lizard had enraged him... so much for being in a good mood.
---
The past three days had passed at a pace that had only served to further aggravate and enrage Solomon, despite his fatigued state, Solomon had been unable to get very much, if any sleep. In fact, the only two good things that Solomon could draw from his current situation right now was that, the burning itch that had been searing his left hand three days ago had stopped irritating him, and that the little-lizard had proven itself to at least be capable of hunting small creatures for itself -which had been equally shocking, especially since it managed to catch something for itself on the same day it had hatched- however, everything else had still been more than enough to put Solomon in something that likely would have been a murderous rage if he hadn't been so fatigued right now.
The little lizard for the most part had continued to play the role it seemed to be proud of, and that was irritating Solomon as much as it possibly could. it never strayed too far from him for any reason, and whenever the night did end up falling, it usually positioned itself as close as it possibly could to Solomon in order to sleep.
In fact, the first night it had done that, Solomon had been half-asleep himself and had woken up with a start and fallen utterly still and rigid upon discovering the little-lizard so close to him. After that sleep had just ended up becoming that much more difficult for Solomon to achieve. Although, now, his mind and his thoughts were so disjointed that he was beginning to consider continuing his trip to Nemesis Morona, perhaps if he could deliver the little-lizard to Nemesis Morona then he could be rid of the thing and attempt to collect himself that way.
In fact, it was that thought which strengthened his resolve enough to keep himself moving and not just collapse. By now he was so fatigued that he was having to use the trees to support himself just so that he could stand up, and because of that his progress was slower now than it had been three days ago. He had to stop between each tree in order to regain his strength enough to start moving again, a slow process that the little-lizard was currently making even slower as it seemed to want to weave in between his legs as he walked, already it had nearly made him trip several times, and each and every time its joy apparently only increased. He shook his head sharply, trying to rid himself of its presence, whatever it had done to him, surely it would fade once he got rid of it. He shook his head again as he felt the little-lizard express some kind of feeling that he currently could not place. Damned fatigue, if it wasn't for that Solomon wouldn't be having this trouble right now.
Walk, stop, rest, walk, stop, rest. It was a dull cycle and one that Solomon forced himself to repeat ad nauseam. The longer he walked, the less time he had to spend trying to rid himself of that very irritating mind that was now constantly within his own mind. Solomon bared his teeth in a feral snarl as once more he nearly tripped over the damned little-lizard. However, this time he had been close enough to a tree and was able to use it to stop his fall before it started. Leaning against the tree, Solomon remained still. His entire body was trembling now, soon enough he wouldn't even be able to force himself to stay standing. He felt concern from the other mind, and shook his head sharply again, growling.
Whatever it wanted, Solomon wasn't paying it any attention. If he collapsed, then good. Maybe it would free him from this irritating contact with the little-lizard. He began moving again, pushing himself off of the tree he had been resting against and moving forwards at the snails-pace that he had been moving at for a while now. He could just about see tree-line now, and the ground outside the forested area, that was enough to embolden his resolve. He stopped to rest for half the time he had spent resting against the other trees and then moved forward at the kind of pace he would usually walk in. His fatigued body immediately protested and at once Solomon began stumbling as he walked, however, he kept himself moving through sheer force-of-will. Briefly placing his hands against the trees he did end up walking past if only to keep himself walking steady.
He broke through the border of the forested area, and once again found himself facing the lake that the little-lizard had hatched at. Her could still see his arrows scattered across the ground in the distance, along with the remaining fragments that had been the little-lizard's egg. But he paid those no mind, his sights were ultimately set on a single tree a short distance away from the border of the forested area he had just emerged from. If he could just reach that tree, then he would be able to take another rest before continuing in the direction of Nemesis Morona's village.
He steeled himself and walked forward, his legs threatening to give way at any second. Yet Solomon continued to ignore the protests of his fatigued body, he was going to make it as far as that individual tree. As far as he was concerned, that much was non-negotiable. As if to argue against him, however, Solomon's legs gave way from beneath him, and he staggered forward by several, large steps. With a snarl, Solomon forced one foot to remain in place when it hit the floor in his enforced stagger forward. He bowed forward dangerously as his momentum was suddenly halted, but he did not fall to the floor. Solomon found himself bark in humourless laughter at his completely meaningless victory, only to once again feel concern from that other damned mind.
Solomon shook his head sharply again, trying to yet again rid himself of the intrusive mind and then continued to move forward, only this time, he moved at a pace that wouldn't push his fatigued body too far. He eventually reached his target with no further stumbling and half-collapsed into the tree as he leaned against it, breathing heavily. He had made it this far, now he just needed to wait for his body to recover enough in order to start moving again. He looked back down at the little-lizard, which was once again stood close-by staring at him with wide-eyes, Solomon grunted and avoided eye-contact, looking away from it as he slouched just that little bit more into the tree.
"D-don't you ever shut up?"
He mumbled as he shook his head sharply again... yes, so much for his good mood.
