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Chapter 1: The Journey before the Journey

Sarren waved a hand as the last of his supplies magically marched into his bag of holding. Ready for the long journey into nations he had been officially exiled from.
“Are you sure”
For the umpteenth time Sarren's personal assistant repeated. Quickly running out of patience he glared at the portly fellow and nodded, annoyed. He scanned the room, Agitated, rushed and confused. making sure he hadn't forgotten anything.
“B-but master, sir, Your plan is dangerous, E especially just for rumors' he..he.. right?”
Sarren didn't even both looking at him this time. but he had officially lost his patience. with a flick of his writs a magical force forced his assistant out the door which then slammed in his face. a cry of pain made its way muffled back into the room. A silent sigh escaped Sarren as he straitens himself and tidies his hair.

Sarren stares at the letter. details of a creature matching Blinding Spear's colors seen walking towards the borderlands. Northern Covania. He had confirmed it was Zyllis with some divination and Scrying magic. What happened?! how did he become such a creature? The thoughts had been plaguing Sarren's mind for a week, since he received the letter. His sources say the creatures march is slow and its final destination is not known. He wished to leave sooner but to rush blindly after his former commander would be rash indeed. But finally he was ready.

His Journey into Reton went off without much hassle. it had been a number of years since the events of the rebellion. things had calmed down, at least on the ground level. Keeping well covered to avoid his face being recognized. The powerful mage made it to the closest Teleport circle in Reton and used it on his own power to get to Covania in a flash. Like a man on a mission he didn't stop he marched right on.
What would he even do when he reached Zyllis? he couldn't bring him back. talk to him? could he even speak in this form? he shook the questions from his mind and pressed on.
Then he stopped.
A new thought popped into his head. His other comrades. the ones laid to rest at Lily Vale Cemetery. He hadn't seen them since the exile. The moment of hesitation was quickly quashed as he turned around and headed towards his comrades.

The Elderly Grave keeper was busy tending to the gardens when the tall cloaked figure approached. Robert knew strait away this wasn't a normal visitor, he had seen and heard enough in his years to know the difference between the mundane and extraordinary. He stood up giving a big strech, though well over 80 years old he seemed rather in shape, but his eyes, tired and worn out, however determined as if a breath of new life had entered his soul recently. Robert instinctively checked to see if his hand axe was ready, tapping the ivory hilt on his belt.

The wind had picked up, the two stood their for a moment in silence. Robert broke the ice greeting Sarren who returned with a silent hand greeting.
Sarren peered over the graves and saw a familiar sight. The Blinding Spear Sarren rushed over in panick. How was it here? this weapon was always supposed to be by Zyllis's side. It had been hear a while it seems, Plant growth had attempted to claim it but the blade remains as sharp and gleaming as the day it was forged by the giants of Nabilhime.

Robert left Sarren alone, packing up for the day. “Now where is that blasted daughter of mine?! its nearly sundown”

Sarren fell to his knees at the graves, Suddenly he felt the situation was far more dire than originally thought. He looked over the grave stones, Kivlar, Rozie, Bryn, Grit and of course Seril The names echoed in his mind as if they were happy to be remembered. Time seemed to slow down as his mind fell into deep thought. Sitting for a moment to rack his mind for information. pulling out his journeal and going back to the early pages. What does it all mean? He thought.
He gets to when Zyllis told him of Exilis, the events that transpired, Even further back to the fall of Nabilhime and Zyllis's origins. The ruins of Nabilhime are in the fiery borderlands. is that where he is going?

Eventually he realized he was burring time. time he didn't have. he got up with a pounce ready to march off but before he did Does Sarren take the blinding spear with him or not

Chapter 2: The Friend before the Storm

Night was breaching the sky as Sarren reached the norther gate. Traveling at night was not ideal but he was in a race agaisnt time. he was refreshed and an elf sleep wasn't the problem it was whatever was waiting for him. he felt he was strong enough for any bandit or desert beast but it would be time spent dealing with foes, if he had a band then the fighting would be quicker. ah but how to find such a group at this time of night on such short notice.
Then suddenly.
As if a yellow angel had herd his mind's plea. A very tall and curvatons blue and yellow Aarackocra literally came singing into view.
Oh Oghma, That is one large bird.
A bit stunned at the sight as she skipped towards the gate, supplies in hand looking like she was also ready for a long journey. Sarren pulled himself together and waved her down.

She paused mid skip and looked at him puzzled. “uhhhh?' she watched him confused. “Yeeaas?”
Sarren quickly pulled out his pen and began writing words in the air .
Hello Madam, sorry to disturb you this fine evening but i have a very forward and brash request. i am heading north the the fiery borderlands and was wondering if you were heading the same way, could we accompany each other in an effort to lessen the threat of the road?
There was a long pause. This will never work He thought to himself, The pause got longer as the Aaracokra just stared, blinking occasionally. it was getting awkward and Sarren was very close to waving to make sure she was paying attention. then she replied.
“Yeah! okay! sounds fun. I do enjoy Company”

The two set off after a brief introduction. “Sarren? The high elf, Sounds very official, you are dressed quite fancy too. and your a mute? loose your tounge? cursed? cursed…ah i see.” She coughed a little then began the try and mimic a high strung politician. “I am Ozrelia, Hierophant, Aarakocra, great singer am hopefully soon a well known name in these lands. I came here from Griaca just (TIME TO FIT TIME LINE) and have plans to get to Oxtrad.”

Ozrelia talked a lot, like a lot. Sarren seemed happy to just listen. her upbeat chatter was drowning out the negative thoughts and her perky bubbly attitude really brought a bit of sunshine into the past week of gloom.
It seemed Ozrelia also required minimal sleep. Sarren learned just how powerful a Druid she really was. he couldn't believe that this spirited young bird lady was such a powerhouse of a mage. He made notes in his journal about how she channels her magic. Drudic was not unknown to Sarren but he had never met a druid with such in-depth knowledge on their craft.

They stopped for a meal where Ozrelia made Sarren some mushroom stew. it was delicious ad hearty. he felt like he could run all day on just the bowl. when he asked for the recipe she declined “Its a secret dummy”
They took a short rest before continuing on thier march.

Ozrelia asked Sarren a question. “SO what's got you out here, marching through the night in the desert, asking strangers for protection. it seems like your in a hurry.” Sarren thought to himself for a moment, starting to write down a response but was interrupted.
“your gold or your life!” a group of bandits strutted out from behind a rock blocking their path.

Chapter 3: Words not Spoken