The Deep

[Wadeywade]

(this will also be found in the Stories section of the board.)

The Deep
(this story takes place over the next five days, his description has been changed accordingly.)

Wade had withdrawn to the Island of Il Mutah Har, the cataclysm that had struck the Ilifrian Empire had wrought a great deal of loss upon his life. Not as much as it could have, but enough to cause him to come here. The Lady ruled here, so Wade knew for now, at least, it was safe. It was also quiet, a moderate portion of its' wildlife was killed as well, but the buildings were sheltered by the decaying cone. Wade hefts a bag to the cliffs' edge and then upends it, launching his arnor into the sea.

It never touched anything but water, landing in the deep water inside the cone; Wade tosses the bag over his shoulder as he makes his way away from the cliff to the small temple built there. Going inside the building Wade knelt before the Ladys' statue, sure he had done the right thing. he would message Lay and give her the option to join him or carry on the business, to which he'd hand her the whole thing; he had done it before. Wade wanted his last to be in contemplation of pulling another to a place where they'd die and although it was a "peace time" death, his friend still died.

Wade rose, and headed to the small living quarters there, moving inside he made himself a meal, but once it was ready he sent his message to Lay: he was in the Ladys' Sanctuary on Il Mutah Har. If she wanted to join him, that whole message. Wade ate, cleaned up and then spent a few hours pouring over his holy texts he'd had copied by Kree; then just after sundown, he turned in.

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Wade stood in a field. It was a pretty broad space that was completely flat with knee-high grass. Wade strode forward slowly in his dream-state unaware he was dreaming and then, arrows. Millions of them it seemed streamed from the blue sky, blotting it out before a thousand painful piercing blows struck him. Wade fell instantly, unable to brace himself against the onslaught. Looking up at the once-again blue sky he coughed, bloody foam staining his lips and then, She appeared: Trieste, The Lady and his goddess. Smiling sadly, she reaches down and words bang upon his mind even though her lips dont move: "Your grief is great, But I need you to Get up." when he reached for her and their hands almost met, Wade woke up with a start.
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Drawing a shuddering breath, he wondered even as the images began to fade, what it meant. getting up Wade strode to the door and opened it, only to be greeted by no sun, or moons.. or stars. Sighing Wade stode up to the mini-temple, and spent a few hours praying before setting about cleaning the effects of the disaster from the island. although Brian Perano had been given official ownership, it was Wades' initial efforts that built the place so he felt a sense of stewardship. Wade also felt he COULD do something here, something to make right what had happened.

The task would be momumental and cover days, so he paced himself. after cleaning rotting carcasses for three or four hours he hit the bath facilities on the island, and then would retire back to the temple, where he would just sit for awhile, sitting crosslegged at the statues' feet reading, comtemplating; after awhile of this, he would retire to have dinner. Then after a bit more reading and praying, he would sleep.

or so he thought.

The same dream returned, and somehow the same result happened, even though his mind was vaguely aware thos had happened in his mind before. Waking the same way, Wade sat up and rubbed his face. This time he remembered it better, though not completely. he had no idea -what- The Lady was trying to say.. Clambering out of bed Wade went about his working day pretty much the same; the clean-up, the bath then an afternoon of study and prayer. This cycle carries on for another day before Wade discovers: it may not be a dream, but a message..

On the fourth night Wade first, realized he was dreaming and cast Fur Armor in the dream but, it doesnt change the outcome at all. The second thing that occured that was different was what the Lady says and does: This time, she would frown down and says, " I thought you were quicker than this, in more ways than one. your loss is great, but only partial. Don't let me down.. I won't be so nice next time."

And with that, Wade pancaked on the floor because somehow he got wound up in blankets and sheets around the thighs and knees and when he tried to rise, he fell instead. Although not badly hurt Wade had to extricate himself before he could rise, his four tails "Umm, what.??" Wade says flatly to the narrator turning around and realizing indeed, he was down a tail. "Well, Fuck." he says, "Didn't see that coming." Rubbing his forehead he tries to think: What did he need? Starting at the beginning Wade began to tear apart the dream:

"First, there is the open field. theres no cover, no trees and blue skies. huh. " He contemplates, talking to himself (or the narrator, its hard to tell at this point) as he works through it. "Its' vulnerable, unprotected. a reflection of my inner state. I mean, loss does that to a guy. and I've lost alot but; not like this.. not so dear. and yet not all was lost. that is why the grass was so," Wade gestures subconsciously to his knee level, "Enough to protect me but only once I'd fallen. then come the arrows.. "

Wade strolls around the island randomly at this point, going about the task of finishing the clean-up, but as he does he reasons and argues with himself; attempting to, at some level, try to find what he missed. "Even fur armor fails.." And then Wade came the realization that, had he been wearing -his- armor, then maybe he could have withstood the barrage as he had in the Goblin Wars. Wade gives an a heavy sigh of resignation because he realizes what comes next: Wade has to go swimming! Making his way to the black sand beach, Wade strips down, making his way into the cold, cold water. Swimming out. Wade positions himself a few meters from shore where the cliff hung above, and dives.. Kicking his way down he looks around, before finally nabbing the Faux plate. Carrying it to the surface Wade gasps for air, it was pretty deep, ten meters to be sure, so Wade paddles to shore taking his time.

This means eight separate dives; it took several hours and Wade even had to use a Light spell to see his targets after awhile. Once he got it all to shore Wade inspected it and cast Mend on the cloth bits, but the metal.. the Mithril was fine, the Faux plate was pitted and scarred now, even after a limited time in the water.
Wade carries it all up to where he had set up a makeshift forge, and began cleaning it. once he had taken care of the main body of the armor, Wade took the Faux plate apart and then began to reforge it; Wade reshapes the plates giving them a curved, fendered feel; while they were still hot, he inscribed Mephos-sized and shaped scales into the plates.

Then came the repainting: Wade painted his whole armor a charcoal, matte black that seemed to soak in light or that the wearer was made of walking shadow, the only accent was two stripes of silver on each shoulder, shaped like bolts of lightning. "Mark two." Wade says softly.
The final touch was blacking out the helmet, Wade then puts the armor on the rack, tiredly he would retire without prayers and just a small meal. The dream would return but, as he had imagined, Wade had his armor and it does protect him; the black armor isn't even scratched by the dream-arrows. This time, they pass right through him as if he had cast Intangibility but, he had fully retained his physical form, not become the misty cloud he was now.

Wade woke this time but he was actually wearing the armor, even though he had hung it up the night before: His fifth tail had returned too, but it was the color that stuck him not of one tail, but all of them and his fur, as well: it was black as his armor.

Wade had changed color.

Snapping up his black cloak Wade slung it on, stepping out into the darkness he took to the air, flying west.
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End
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