Severed from the Source

[Asherah]

Dathomir - Aurilia

Betrayal. The air reeked of it. Sisters of her clan had fallen prey to one another on account of the mutiny that Asherah supposed had been building ever since Matier's health had lapsed. Blood drenched the ground at her booted feet; it stained the homes they had built together and pooled at the altars where they worshipped deities with one another. A heretic dwelled among them, poisoning the minds of the youth in the tribe and turning them against the Matron. Her mother.

Rather than going for the whip attached to the belt at her hip, Asherah took up a serrated blade from the crimson etched weapon rack to her right. Her eyes drank in the corpses of her closest friends, her allies, those who stayed true to the beliefs scribed across time for those dwelling within the mists. Not one swift death had befallen them, each suffered greatly at the hands of their own clanswomen.

An anguished snarl escaped the normally composed warrior of Aurilia, echoing throughout the seemingly abandoned encampment. Her eyes blazed with an onslaught of malevolent notions. It smothered the fear, clouded the reason that usually guided her counterattack. But this, this was beyond anything.

"You cowardly traitors! Come forward and receive judgment..." Asherah rasped in a most uncontrolled tone, her body shaking but her grip on the weapon she'd selected remained solid, complete. They attacked in a swarm to bring down one remaining member, their fear evident in their hesitation as the blade swirled effortlessly in her hand. There were too many, she knew this. Her focus began to dwindle, but not until she saw a fair share of limbs fly from their origins.

They brought her down with a stunning blow to the head. Her knees cracked against the rough stone of the misty hillside. Night prevailed, she could smell the smoke from the extinguished fires, could feel its thickness groping at her limbs. It disgusted her. All of this disgusted her.

"Cowards. Traitors. But now we hold all the cards to your carefully crafted kingdom, Asherah. Matier has returned to the mists from whence she came."

Those damning words. They were the last thing she remembered. Until...

_________

She was quite certain the treacherous scum had decided to burn her alive. But then she recalled that the fires had been extinguished and there had been the light fall of rain against her flesh. It was as if the heavens had been weeping for the noble hearts lost. But there was no rain now. Only burning, beige sand that invaded her nose each time she attempted to breathe. No crystalline, chime droplets to usher her into heaven. Only the scorching flames at her back and the blinding light biting into her silver eyes.

A soft, choked growl escaped her lips and she futilely attempted to push herself up with her palms. As if to mock her effort, a pitying degree of shade swooped over her upper back and head. She turned one eye up to it, but found that she was staring only at a blob of shadow.

"Who... Where... " She wheezed. "So.. hot.."

[Sevrin Ter`dok]

Scorching. Without a doubt this was the only word that could describe the most inhospitable climate. Of this, Sevrin was absolutely positive. The clmiate was absolutely wretched, as if the molten tongue of a phoenix was lapping playfully at him for enjoyment. He stood now, nearly at the crest a particularly harrowing hill in a pose that even on it's best day simply couldn't be called statuesque. Exhaustion was permeating his very being as the sweat was already heavily beaded above his eyes.

The battle-hardened warrior quickly wiped his face with the back of his gloved hand as he let out a deep sigh. The heat was nearly at his apex and he was running low on provisions. After a quick internalization, he came to the most unwelcome conclusion that very soon he would have to find some sort of respite from the elements and wait until nightfall for more favorable surroundings.

He continued trudging on until he reached the crest of the hill as it was most imperative that he get an accurate assessment of his surroundings. These lands were foreign to him, and he had been forcibly taught years ago by his brother Calian that knowledge of one's surroundings was almost as key to survival as knowledge of one's enemies.

His eyes narrowed slightly as they affixed on a shape off in the distance. There was no doubt in his mind that it was a humanoid of some kind, but its identity - and more importantly its status as friend or foe - were quite unknown to him.

The warrior reached behind his back to withdraw a large, jaded pike as he increased his pace to close the distance as quickly as possible. He stood above the figure casting a long shadow over her torso just as she moved ever so slightly. He snarled above her as he plunged the pike at a most lethal angle toward her head, stopping merely inches from destroying her. As the pike's movement was halted, he let out precious few carefully chosen words as was his custom.

"Cast light on the shadow of your identity."

[Asherah]

She cast something of a glare up at the shadowed figure that was haloed like a bellowing, wrathful angel. She couldn't really complain about the shade he offered with his hulking frame though. But then, she came to notice the pike that was leering dangerously close to her throat. She discerned his words too, one at a time so she didn't misunderstand him. And stars, she wish she had. Her temper was so easily provoked ever since - ... ever since...

Her expression turned grave; her brows knit downward causing fierce frown lines to become apparent, her upper lip drew up into a wordless, feral snarl that stayed lodged in her throat, and her entire body grew rigid as a log. How dare this man threaten her life after all that had happened! Where the hell was she!

Her hand lurched forward, snapping around the end of the pike and locking it in place against the grid of her finger armor. The metal seared, but it was a welcome pain compared to the numbness that spread through her chest. She was surprisingly strong now, anger flaring once more, and she held the pressing weapon at bay.

"Asherah Ziiv'arel of Aurilia." She fairly spat at him, like a snarling lioness. A dehydrated one. She was beginning to wish her chosen color of attire wasn't black.

"And just who dares point this offensive, shoddy excuse of a weapon at me?" She demanded, slowly working the pike back and herself into an upright position.

[Sevrin Ter`dok]

Ignoring the obvious malice in her voice, Sevrin allowed his weapon to be moved and the woman lying on the ground to stand. His eyes softened slightly as he could see that either the elements or some other force unknown to him had obviously taken a toll on her. As she rose to her feet and identified herself, he lowered his weapon but still kept his balanced centered, poised to strike if necessary. He did this not only to assure his own protection, but also as a show of respectful strength toward the being that now stood before him.

The immense warrior's tone also seemed to soften ever so slightly as he acknowledged her and returned the greeting.

"I am Sevrin Ter`dok, warrior of Ter`dok. Are you injured?"

[Asherah]

Once she had climbed to her feet, she swayed in place for several moments. Her amber eyes never once left the position of the pike the man wielded while she stroked away the sand that had gathered within her attire. The offensive grains had filed into her ebony locks and she reached up to rid herself of them, only to find a sticky mass of hair tinged with blood and grime. She winced slightly then turned her suspicious gaze back upon the warrior.

"I am unfamiliar with this region." In truth, she had never ventured outside the mists of Aurilia. She had heard of deserts from the elders of her clan but she had never imagined that they could be so vast. It was as though the entire planet stretched on with dunes.

She shook her head, allowing her gaze to roam up and meet his own.

"It's only a scratch." She informed him, her fingers dropping down from the wound inflicted by her clanswomen. With each word, her mouth grew more dry. She had to get out of this sun.

"Sevrin Ter`dok, it seems I am in desperate need..." She paused, instantly hating how that sounded. "Of shelter and information."

[Sevrin Ter`dok]

Compassion was certainly not something this man was well versed in, yet he could not help but feel a twinge of obligation to help the woman that now stood teetering uneasily before him. The warrior replaced his pike behind him as he brushed his long, flowing locks of dark hair out of his eyes to smile - just for an instant - as he spoke

"I'm not sure of what service I may be, but I will attempt to aid you."

He reached into the folds of the cloak that hung easily off of his shoulders despite the heat. He retrieved an animal skinned jug from within them and handed it to the woman who he could tell was still fairly distrusting.

"Drink this water, it will rekindle some of your strength."

Smiling once more - again for just a brief moment - he continued.

"Can you walk?"

[Asherah]

The expression he displayed startled her somewhat. It was as though she hadn't seen a genuine smile in years, which very well might have been true. She couldn't really recall.

Her hand lifted yet again to inspect the wound at her temple, the sharpened finger armor burning into the flesh. The entire area was numb by now so it didn't bother her as much as it should have.

Eyeing him cautiously, she accepted the jug without giving much thought to the dangers it presented. Poison? Whatever it took to quench the thirst that seemed to make her very innards crack. She chucked the jug back with one hand and drank deeply, taking in as much as her mouth could hold. It slicked the pathways that had gone parched for far too long. A pleasured sigh escaped her lips before she could halt it and then her expression again went passive.

She didn't really know how to act around strangers. She felt foolish.

She swayed forward at his inquiry, her boots struggling to grip the sand below. For a moment, it seemed as if she would barrel right through him, but she caught herself before that happened.

"Yeah..." She stated, throwing back another swig of the water.

[Sevrin Ter`dok]

Ignoring the slight stagger in her stance, the gigantic warrior looked toward the horizon as he spoke forcefully. Compassion was not in his nature and he was particularly unhappy about it rearing its ugly head at this point in time because he really couldn't afford it.

Gesturing toward the spot that he was looking at, he spoke again to the woman.

"I have transportation in that direction but it is a distance. The shelter of the ship should prove to help you regain your strength even more. Shall we go?"

He started off down the hill without even waiting for her response. If she didn't wish his help that was merely one less thing for him to worry about.