Dressed To Die (parts 1-3, the condensed version)

He stretched, yawned, and craned his neck about; searching through the early morning fog for the silent figure that had last been perched upon the giant granite boulder by the steam that trickled merrily in tune to the local birds' morning prayers. Sighing as it became apparent that the stranger was gone, he rose and began to gather the remainder of his equipment, mourning the loss of what had been ruined in the previous night's tussle. He really wanted to know who his saviour was... or at least to see his face.

Collecting some of the somewhat soggy remains of his notebooks from the rocks, and finding a broken pencil stub, he began to sketch what he could remember of the hooded fighter... the dark cloak of an indistinguishable colour, glimmering in the darkness, rendering the wearer completely invisible in his surroundings; the tall, slender body structure, so quick and silent, yet a surer and stronger fighter one would be hard pressed to find. And... the talisman. A silver bangle, on a simple leather thong, drawn from within the cloak and thoughtfully examined while the stranger sat perched in the moonlight on the large rock dominating the clearing.

Engrossed in his sketches, Reion didn't notice the silent figure currently residing on the rock, peering over his shoulder at the shadowy figure emerging on the paper, and he started in fear when a soft rustle announced its presence. Whirling about and ready to run, Reion's eyes locked onto those of his observer, and found a pair of familiar eyes silently gazing back at him.

Blinking, heart still pounding, Reion silently grasped at the papers as they lazily floated about the clearing, eyeing his old friend, searching for time's unavoidable affects. The same deep, thoughtful blue eyes still glimmered from underneath the familiar shoulder length tangle of red-brown hair, with the chilling solitary natural white highlight framing the pale freckled slender face.

"You're... you're alive."

The disbelieving words hushed the clearing as tears of joy and pain welled in his eyes. Reaching hesitantly then pulling back as if afraid this were a dream, Reion closed his eyes, bit his lip, then opened them suddenly as a hurt look of pure loathing came across his face.

"You were alive... all these years? Everyone thought you were dead. For years they looked for you, for years everyone was living on false hope, hoping that one day, that... that one day they'd wake up and find it was all a dream! One by one, they all gave up... DAMNIT, Why did you ev--"

He stopped short as friend suddenly motioned him silent, alertly scanning the forest. "Aen? What... what is it?"

Cutting a slightly concerned and spooked looking Reion off again with a silent but stern motion, Aen sprang from the rock and swung effortlessly into the oak tree that was shadowing the clearing at the sun fought its way through the morning fog to take its rightful throne in the sky.

Rein watched as silently and skillfully his friend disappeared from view, leaving him alone in the clearing. The pressing silence revealed no dangers, but the sudden appearance, and equally as sudden disappearance of his old friend led Reion's thoughts to perplexing questions. Why had Aen suddenly showed up, and... had he really been there, or had his over-active imagination been playing tricks? If Aen had really been there... then so must whatever danger his old friend had gone off for.

Suddenly over aware of every small motion and sound, Reion listened for what had disturbed Aen. The sound of a twig snapping resonated through the clearing, and before the suspenseful silence fought its way back into dominance, the peaceful setting broke into chaos fit for a nightmare. The clearing became a cage as several tall, ghostly figures seemingly materialized along the tree line. Reion froze, his back to the oak tree. They had returned, the monsters of the previous night, and it didn't seem as if any mysterious cloaked warrior could miraculously come to his rescue this time. Glancing wildly about for someway of escape or protect himself, Reion felt a wave of hopelessness engulf him. These beasts were skilled fighters; last night he had barely been able to hold off the one of them that hadn't been occupied by the tall fighter, and there were quite a few more present currently.

The ring began to close in, somewhat hesitantly at first, as if they were expecting the great warrior to return, then more and more boldly as it became apparent that he wouldn't. Frozen in fear, Reion was broken from his trance as an acorn bounced quite forcefully off Reion's head, alerting him to the presence of something above. Hoping against hope, he glanced up and saw exactly what he hoped he wouldn't: Aen. He didn't want them both getting killed, and remembering Aen as not being the most athletic or coordinated, and knowing that he didn't have much of a chance of holding the monsters off long enough, it didn't seem as if either of them had much hope of escape.

Glaring upward again, willing Aen to be long gone and quickly assessing all possible outcomes of the now desperate situation, Reion was surprised when Aen suddenly dropped from the branches, and landed nimbly on the giant rock. Effortlessly drawing a giant hardwood bow, Reion watched in horror as his childhood ally notched an arrow and aimed it straight at him.

Looking coyly at what appeared to be the leader of the group, Aen smirked and unleashed the taught bowline, smiling smugly as the arrow sliced through the air. Neatly slicing the side of Reion's neck, the arrow collided solidly with the oak tree he had backed up against.

Gasping in pain and falling to his knees, Reion looked up fearfully in shock to see another arrow pointed in his direction. With the same smug look, Aen pointedly adjusted to Reion's new position. A questioning look to the monsters and a motion to release the arrow, the arrow was kept drawn at the lack of response from the attackers.

Yais. That's what the few surviving traders called them. Recollections of the endless overheard conversations flitted through Reion's mind, stories of travelers attacked in the middle of the night, whole settlements that had disappeared without a trace, and many other tales of the horrors that roamed the wastelands that isolated the few remaining barricades. They were one of the many reasons no one strayed from their village. You were lucky if you made it to a village, Reion realized, thinking back to how life had been, and of the millions who hadn't been as lucky as he. How lucky he and the hundreds of others were that Aen had been there...

Hazily looking about, Reion saw the leader of the horrid creatures -of the Yais, he corrected himself- slowly move to the center of the clearing, standing between Aen's taught bow and his crumpled form. The creature began speaking in a harsh, guttural language, seemingly trying to placate Aen, and as Aen smiled that crazy malicious smile he remembered so well, Reion slipped from consciousness, his last thought being that for such big, awkward creatures, those Yais sure were rather graceful...