Calm Amidst The Chaos[Completed]

[Anonymous]

A pale human hand held onto the stem of a flower. Ardghal’s fingers cradled it and his eyes followed the sick black colour forcing itself into the petals of the rose, curling them back; withering it until what laid in his palm was a shadow of its former self. Twisted beyond recognition.

   He almost had it that time.

   In his mind, the dryad could picture it so vividly. The red of the rose standing out from the dark background of his forest and thriving, not turning into an ugly thing in which no gaze, woman or man, cared to fall on. Ardghal sighed and the plants around seemed to shudder with him. Nevertheless, he could not waste a life. With his free hand he parted the grass - what only he would call grass, to others it may look like thousands of thin dark tendrils reaching up searching in vain of bare skin to latch onto. They did not dare to harm Ardghal. He was their god - the flower eagerly awaited to be set into the soil, its roots soaking up all the vile of the wastelands. With a simple touch he made it bloom wildly and grow in stature. What stood looming instead was a mass of  thorns melded into the shape of a common bird. Ardghal stood back, pleased.  

   There was a brutality to his creativity - everything in that damnable place had it. His own body bore the mutations. He had been twisted from a handsome looking man to….A thing that held the markings of both plant and beast.  No longer could he speak; his throat wrapped in dark coloured roots, and his jaw too awkward now to hold the motor skills needed. He could still smile, however it was one most did not care to see.  But his hands were still human. The disease had not spread to them yet. It irritated him nearly to the point of madness that, still, whatever he created became monstrous despite have a touch of humanity.

   He supposed that might be ironic.

   Humanity…Just the thought of them riled Ardghal. He roughly ran a hand through what hair he still had. The dryad did not need that anger, or hatred. It was what truly turned monsters into monsters. For now, he must focus on what was important. He would take back everything Aedolis had stolen from the earth. His earth. Ardghal could not change the past; he cannot change what he has already become. However, utilising it was a different matter. Oh yes. The grand roots of the tree his spirit was bonded to will grow and stretch to encompass the land. And the forest will go with it. He would follow as a pioneer - aiding. He would undue everything… He would destroy all those tainted creatures that roamed outside the edge of his forest. He would never allow them entrance into his ‘Eden’ . They were things! Mindless salivating things! He both pitied and envied them. Pitied because they had no mind, and envied because they had no mind.

   His fingers brushed up against the trunk of his bonded tree. Ardghal felt everything it felt. Ever since it was a small sapling and him only a child, all it could feel was the earth withering away from under it. Becoming sick. Dying. Even if it took him hundreds, thousands of years…He would not stop. Not even if dragons should find him.

No failure will impede me old friend… He said, his telepathic voice was one of the few last remnants of his original self; a contrast to his appearance. However, only silence was returned.

[Anonymous]

On rare occasions, Alaric didn't hate being around Kezef. Generally, he loathed the dragon and being around him was miserable. But flying...Alaric liked flying. And the dragon tended to keep quite while they flew, so Alaric got to just enjoy it. He and Kazef were patrolling the Wastelands, looking for an suspicious activity.

And Temple. Though that was just a feeble hope in Alaric's mind, not an official mission goal. His eyes scanned the ground rushing by them, though he was using his telepathy more then his vision. Even at the reduced speed Kazef was flying, it was hard to see much detail.

Hey. Kazef...what's with that weird clump of plants? Despite knowing the dragon couldn't see him, Alaric still pointed. There was a thick cluster of plants a head, with a strange sort of purpose to them. It almost looked like someone's garden, though twisted and overgrown.

I don't know. I sense something strange there.

Me too. Let's go look. There was something living there, though Alaric couldn't tell what it was. Shifting course, Kazef made his way to the grove, landing in a flurry of wind and flapping wings. Sliding off his back, Alaric's hand went to his gun, eyes scanning around him. There was no way whatever he had felt had missed that entrance.

I can't really enter those trees. Kazef shifted, moving away from the trees. He could crush the plants, but it would slow him down and he would be rather vulnerable. Alaric just nodded, moving toward the plants. It might not be dangerous, but in the wastes, that was unlikely.

[Anonymous]

There was a presence bearing down into his psychic range. For a moment, all he could feel was the crushing sensation against his mind as something much larger and much more powerful than himself drew nearer. Compared, his form would seem diminutive. It was coming.
   
   Massive wings.

   That single phrase echoed through his mind. The plants around him were primitive in their ways to communicate, it was only through his concentrated effort that Ardghal could pry such things from them. He had learned to tune out the sounds of the earth, for if he didn’t they would surely drown out his own thoughts and drive him mad. But for now, he beckoned them.

   Flying…Flying…Closer…Closer.

   Threat.[/b]

   The black and twisted forest, from the gnarled trees to the most poisonous of brush life all seemed to shrink back; attempting to draw away from the creature, from what Ardghal could tell, now residing on the very edges of his territory.

   ”Stop!” He said, his lips pulling back revealing rows of tiny sharp teeth. He would not allow  submission! The forest stilled at his command. Ardghal’s hand remained on the trunk of his bonded tree, his fingers feeling the icy touch of that bark, but the rest devoured every little detail the massive plant could pick up from the intruders. It could see over the entire forest and the expanse around.

   Two of them. Psychic.

   And one of them was a dragon.

   That would explain how they ignored the suggestions to turn around and forget about the forest, which worked so well on the beasts that normally roamed just outside. Those vile things…This however, was just as vile if not more so. Ardghal was not stupid. He would not tell his forest to descend on them with poisonous pollen, nor wrap them in uncountable vines of thorns. It would be a bad move and simply give the impression that he, himself, should be destroyed.

   “Enemy or friend?” He reached out to them with his mind. More than likely enemy. More than likely it was a Pilot. He had seen them before…A long time ago. It only meant one thing. Aedolis. Anger started to bubble over and spill onto his psychic range. He could not help that. And it was pointless to attempt to hide. He would be found. They could sense him just as much as he could sense them. “I shall not strike thee, if you do not strike us.”

[Anonymous]

There was something so strange about this place, it made Alaric's hair stand on end, his tail lashing. Though, everything out here was twisted in some way. Then he felt the voice in his head and the Pilot's eyes went wide. A psychic!? Out here?

He shook his head, taking a cautious step forward, "I wont hurt you. I'm a friend." Mostly that was true. Alaric didn't want to hurt him, though he would have to bring the creature in. Not something he looked forward too.

"Careful my little pet. He doesn't seem to like you much. Which....hardly surprised. Few people do.." Alaric shot the dragon a dark look. He could feel the....things anger. It made it easy to locate him as he moved into the forest. He holstered his gun as a sign of good faith. And really, Alaric was lethal enough without it that he wasn't too worried, "What is your name?"

[Anonymous]

It took everything for him not to lash out. To not tear them limb from limb if he could - if he could not he certainly wanted to try. Or damn them to an eternal hell; a hell he felt each passing moment. They deserved that. No, they deserved more than that! Yet the dryad stilled himself, stilled the forest, and attempted to calm down his thoughts that would only continue to resonate the pure hatred he felt. At some level he was disgusted with himself for allowing such kindness.

   A voice echoed back to him. Was it the voice of the dragon, or that of the Pilot? Ardghal was in utter disbelief. He did not expect “friend” to be a part of its vocabulary. However, from what he could sense the motivation of harm was not high on the surface. Despite that, he would keep his guard. He would always keep his guard. Aedolis was the last thing he would ever trust. And those were words the dryad did not throw around haphazardly. He meant them.

   ”Mine name?” He scoffed. “I shall ignore the impoliteness in which you ask it. Asking for a name when you do not give your own, it’s akin to asking for a hand when one does not intend to shake.” Ardghal paused as if to shrug mentally, “I cannot say I expected more.”

   With slight arrogance, the dryad opened up a pathway through the forest; one leading directly to him; the center of the forest. An easy walk for the Pilot. At least he could be polite. He even moved the poisonous shrubs.

   “My name is Ardghal. Feel privileged, few walk this earth long enough to know of it.” It was no lie. His forest held many cryptic secrets and a morbidity to its growth. “May I know of yours, Aedolian?” He spoke the last word with hatred on his tongue.

[Anonymous]

Alaric felt uneasy, the hairs along the back of his neck standing up. The very air felt hostile and it made Alaric nervous. He was hoping he wasn't going to have to get into a fight. He was curious to what was living here, what had survived out here. Though he was doubting he was going to be able to bring him in peacefully.

I'm sorry. You're right, that was rude. My name is Alaric. Pilot Echo Alaric Eftwyrd. It's uhh....nice to meet you. He wasn't really sure what to say. The creature obviously hated him, but he had a job to do and he was curious.

Though the telepathy made Alaric tighten up his shields. He didn't need his thoughts being read. The forest suddenly moving startled Alaric, though it wasn't too surprising out in the wastes. Carefully he moved forward, finally catching sight of the creature.

And stared. He couldn't help it. But Ardghal looked like something out of a nightmare, twisted and wrong.

[Anonymous]

So it was the voice of the Pilot that he heard. He was not entirely surprised. Ardghal had envisioned a dragon’s voice to be far more forceful, draconic even; a decadent hellish rumble. Much like what most would imagine would come from he, himself. Alaric Eftwyrd… The dryad would remember that name for a very long time; as soon as it was said he had been given a singular entity in which to lay his blame upon - whether they were innocent or not. It was all a matter of the viewpoint.

   “The pleasure is all mine.” His telepathic voice stilled into an empty monotone. Forced, rather. There were many times in where his bestial nature was difficult to control, however he did not need that anger. Now if the Pilot were to attack him… Ardghal played with the many scenarios that ran through his head, he was not concerned if this Alaric were to dig into his mind. He would simply see beforehand how unfortunate the situation would be if he were to draw his gun against him. Dragon or not.

   The Pilot was indeed taking his time though. The dryad began to grow impatient. He did not like to wait. Especially for one who did not deserve the patience he was giving them. The vegetation around him had grown quiet - Cowards, as they were. Ardghal was working on breeding that out of them. Yet in the wastes things tended to evolve into whatever they wanted. Or whatever the forever sickening place wanted them to become. There was a  sentience to it that-

   - Finally.

   It was rare that he allowed such entrance into his Eden. For a moment, Ardghal succumbed to a pang of shame. All he could offer was a diseased world. Soon, however he would be able to create a new one that far surpassed anything. Soon. The feeling dissipated when the dryad reminded himself that before him stood now the catalyst that brought upon all this. The Aedolian.

   He was expecting something a bit more than what his eyes fell upon. And the image in his mind that the Pilot was human shattered in that instant. He noticed the stare from the creature, the Pilot,  that was expected. He did not know what he looked like to a mirror, the dryad saw only what he could of his twisted body. His visitor was seeing him in his entirety. Ardghal felt uneasy with the attention. He was a monster.

   “Are we what you imagined, Pilot?” He said, using the odd plural to refer to himself and his bonded tree - essentially they were one in the same. “Or does your imagination stop at what you are told to think and believe, Alaric Eftwryd?”

   The path in which the Pilot came from closed over in such a fashion that without prior knowledge no one would believe that it had even moved to form an entrance. Ardghal’s long tail shifted, moving into place like a snake around the area;  inclosing Alaric further. The dryad’s hand remained gently touching the tree, keeping aware of the dragon lest he forget.

[Anonymous]

Alaric knew he shouldn't judge on appearances. It was so hypocritical of him, to be disgusted by what the creature, he stopped and corrected himself, but what Ardghal looked like. But he was. He looked like a thing of a forests nightmare. Broken and twisted, like the land around him. What…was it even?

“We? Is there someone else?” Now that he was close, Alaric switched to his regular speech. He had never been very good at his psyonics, all power, no control, “You are nothing like what I expected. I’m sorry for staring.” He bowed his head slightly, guilt eating at his belly.

He knew what it was like to be stared at like that. Like a freak or a monster, “I’ve just never seen anything like you before. What are you, if I can ask?”

”We?” He echoed. Ardghal did not consider what the usage of that word would do to confuse Alaric. It was simple to him. And it had been long, so very long, that he had to explain - to converse with an intelligent being that did not resort to grunts and growls for communication. He had forgotten how for the most part.  “Ah. No, there is only I who speaks to you, Pilot.”
Outside of telepathy his visitor’s voice sounded alien. Ardghal was not prepared for that difference, the hollow sound disappearing and life springing into its place. It was unnerving. He was speaking to something that had a personality; feelings and desires of their own. Alaric had bowed his head, and the dryad squinted at him, his two contrasting eyes watching that movement.
He knew courtesy and the stinging pang of regret. But how would an Aedolian know that? It brought Ardghal more on edge, more untrusting. He was uncertain of what to think.

    “I would be surprised if you had seen something like I. “ He turned his face away. What was he? That was a valid question. At first glance one would not be able to tell, or even at second.
His jaw clenched; the jaw that was sorely mutated, that held black teeth all along it like some bestial offspring. He did not look at the Pilot. He wanted to say many things to him. Curse him. Damn him. Hate him. “I am Ardghal. I am… A remnant of what one long ago would call a dryad.” He could not keep a flicker of pain out from his voice.  “You Aedolians ruined me.”

Alaric didn’t fully get the we thing, but he accepted that there was only Ardghal. He couldn’t sense anyone else anyway.

Forcing himself to keep all three of his eyes on the dryad, Alaric shoved down the horror. It wasn’t his fault he looked like that. And the more Alaric looked, the easier it was. He had seen some awful things in his time and a few mutations weren’t that bad. The worst monsters where the ones that didn’t look like one. So what if he was twisted and darkened? Not a big deal.

…really.

“Dryad?” The word was unfamiliar to Alaric, his tongue tripping over it. This wasn’t his native language and while he spoke it well, he often found words he just didn’t know, “What is that? Wait..what? Ruined you? How?”


“An entity bonded directly to nature. A dryad.  Borne from a tree, one with it and yet…Entirely separate. “ Ardghal moved the hand that was placed on his bonded tree, fondly feeling the texture of its bark. His old friend. “Ruined.”  He repeated again, with far more gravity and cast the Pilot a sharp look.

”How you say?” The dryad stepped inches closer to Alaric, the grass reaching out to cling further onto his feet. His fingertips stayed on the trunk of the tree. Ardghal was an imposing figure, even when he did not wish to be. The Pilot surprisingly was not far under his height like most.
Though he doubted it would ruin the effect. With his free hand, disturbingly human compared to the rest of his body, he gestured to his forest. “This wasteland was of your creation, was it not? Of your civilization, your dragons. I was here far before you ever descended - taking everything that wasn’t yours. I tended this earth, I listened to it. Felt it’s pain when it began to decay…”    
His anger bubbled. It was impossible to stop.  Hundreds of years he had lived with hatred laying inside him.  “And mine own. As the world changed around me, so did I,  Alaric Eftwryd…”

Alaric’s hand raised when Ardghal moved closer, body tense at the possible threat. He kept his eyes on the dryad, ready to dodge away if things turned violent, “This mess isn’t our fault. It was Edanith and others that got greedy and started the war!”

Earth history was not Alaric’s strong subject, but he had an idea of what had happened from his classes. The Aedolian version of it anyway. Alaric looked around him, at the twisted plants, “What happened was terrible. But we’re trying to make it better. Fix things.”

Alaric met Arsghal’s eyes, not flinching from the hate and rage there. He hoped the dryad wouldn’t attack, but he wasn’t going to back down.

[Anonymous]

”I do not care about who started what, nor this thing you call war. It means little here, Pilot.” Ardghal’s lips pulled back in an aggressive stance. He did not believe a word Alaric said. Aedolian lies. And it mattered little. Someone needed to be blamed in his mind. The closest thing was them.

   ”Fix things?” The dryad glowered, his tail moving in agitation, its thorn covered length sliding like a snake through the tendrils of black grass. With one quick strike of it he could down the Pilot. He wouldn’t see it, he wouldn’t be able to react, there would simply be nothing for him except a future of being fuel for his forest. If Ardghal decided if he wanted tainted Aedolian blood flowing through his Eden. No, that would not do. “Pray tell how you would do such things? You’ve had centuries and we have not seen one act of this.”

   Ardghal would not strike, though he wanted to. He kept his word. He had dignity. “Your dragons are no gods.”

[Anonymous]

It wasn't hard to read the creatures thoughts and the second they turned violent, Alaric tensed, his body dropping into a crouch. He didn't want things to turn violent with this thing. He was curious about him, though the raw hatred made Alaric feel guilty.

"This isn't easy. It takes a lot of time and research to fix all this damage. To find out how to clean the air. And no, the dragons aren't gods. Unlike gods, they are trying to help this planet." Alaric kept his eyes on the dryad, still wary, "I am sorry. For what happened to this planet."

And he was. He wished he had been able to see it when it wasn't this tainted wasteland. Hunt in it's forests, walk around with out a air filter on.

[Anonymous]

He watched Alaric keenly as he dropped down into that crouch. Clever Pilot, keeping a finger in his mind enough for it to tell what he was thinking on the surface. Clever. Ardghal was hardly amused. He sneered, that expression wholly mortifying on his face with his blackened sharp teeth. The dryad did not care for having his thoughts pried in, whether he be an open book or not.

   “If I was planning to attack you, Pilot, I would have done so long ago and we would not be having the delightful conversation we are now engaged in. I keep my word.” He said, emphasising his last words.

    “I am quite aware it takes a lot of time and research to fix all the damage.” He echoed the pilots words, but perhaps in a more hostile manner, taking the comment to a more personal level. It was not only Aedolis working towards that goal. But unlike them, he had resigned that it would never be the same as it was before, and what was now hideous could become beautiful in return. He had to believe it. Ardghal gestured to the forest around him.

    “Look more carefully. Do you think this grew by itself? Do you think the wastes would allow such a thing? You have seen the outside, haven’t you?” He said the questions all to quickly, not thinking if Alaric could even catch what he said. “For hundreds of years, I have been working. And I have not seen anything by the likes of you Aedolians. It is obvious. You are the first Pilot to find me, Alaric Eftwryd, Now I think if you were really, honestly honestly trying, you would have found me long ago. I cannot hide from everything.”

   Ardghal stopped and simply stared at Alaric.

   Sorry?

    “You are…You are sorry?” He was faltering. Why was he faltering? They were just words! Aedolian words! They’d say anything! And yet…

[Anonymous]

Alaric didn't budge at the dryad's threats. He wasn't going to respond and try and size dicks with him. It wouldn't serve any purpose and he would rather not have to fight Ardghal. He pitied the dryad and he couldn't hide from the guilt that tugged at him. It was a price they paid to keep the citizens safe, and really, it was mostly the damn Edani's fault. And those Serenians. But there seemed little point in arguing that point with Ardghal.

"You created all this?" Alaric looked around, impressed at what he saw. He had seen life in the wasteland, but nothing like this. There was a strange, odd beauty and structure to his place, "You must be proud. To create such a place."

He blinked, surprised by how startled the other man was, "Yes, of course I am sorry. This should never have happened. It is a tragedy how badly the Earth was scared. I heard it used to be truly beautiful, before all the wars happened. I wish I could do more, to help it."

[Anonymous]

"Indeed...It used to be beautiful." Ardghal found himself saying, without the vehemence that so surely laced his words only moments before. Beautiful was an understatement. He remembered everything from the time before the wars - when his mind and body was not contorted in pain. And everything afterwards. There were times where it would be easier to forget the past. Instead what remained where the constant reminders of what could never be again.

 The apology from Alaric rang in his thoughts, over and over. And dug deep into a part of himself that he once thought was entirely destroyed by the hatred he coddled for centuries. But there it was. The logical and practical side of him told him to disregard it. It was all lies. The dryad wanted to believe that what he heard was false. Pilots could not be genuine. Their honesty was as black and rotten as the ground beneath his feet. Though as much as he tried to fight it back, Ardghal let himself succumb to those words; words he had been waiting for eternity to hear: I'm sorry.

The forest shifted around him, and with it the dryad himself eased away from his previous aggressiveness. "Forgive me, Pilot." He said, "I have been...Undignified."

[Anonymous]

Alaric wasn't really sure what he was supposed to say now. He did feel sorry, sorry that this had happened to the earth and sorry the dryad had suffered. So Alaric just shifted his weight, shaking his head and giving what he hoped was a friendly smile, "It's really okay. Your reaction is to be expected. Let's um, let's just start over."

Alaric held his hand out, "Hello. I'm Alaric."

[Anonymous]

This was odd. While Ardghal wasn't allowing his guard to be completely brought down by those words that tangled themselves inside the dryad, like a hapless feline being stroked behind the ears and yet here he was asking for forgiveness. Asking an Aedolian Pilot whom had a dragon stationed not far from the parameter of his forest. He felt it's psychic range still barring down on his own. Which is why hesitation laced his actions now as Alaric stretched out his hand. Ardghal eyed it before his gaze fell on the Pilot's face and his expression. His tail twitched.

Was the Pilot saying "Trust me"? He could recall some gestures that embedded themselves into the culture of humanoids that populated the land before the wastes and the mutants. He remembered this. He trusted those who choose to leave Earth or bury themselves and the promises that they would come back for him. He stared at his own hands for longer than he intended. They were not the healthy colour they used to be. He balled his fists.

"You are asking us to trust you, Pilot." He began to say, without looking at Alaric. "We cannot. Not now, in the very least. You must understand this. We do not know of your true intentions or whether your dragon is listening in. And now our future has been compromised simply from this encounter." He paused, "ah perhaps, we may trust you in time. As a person. Though never what you stand for. For that...I am sorry."

[Anonymous]

Alaric lowered his hand, nodding slightly. He was sad that his gesture had been rejected, but he did understand. He was well aware of trust issues and how hard it was to overcome them. He smiled, "That's okay. We just met and it's hard to trust someone right away."

He glanced around at the plants around them, "Don't worry about your future. I wont tell and Kezef doesn't care." He smiled, "He doesn't care about anything. And...I understand." He did. He knew better than most how far Aedolis would go. But he also knew it was because they had too. It wasn't a choice, people depended on them to protect them and sometimes that meant doing some very bad things.

[Anonymous]

The dryad would have never imagined before this that he would be exchanging pleasantries with an Aedolian Pilot. Yet here he was. Not all of them would be like this, he knew. He knew very well. This Alaric seemed to be an exception. Perhaps. Ardghal would see in time whether he kept his word or not. He had neither the psychic ability or the will to burrow deep into the mind and to the darkest spots in their hearts. The forest was enough to tell. The world around him told him it was no longer threatened by the person that stood before them. The dragon however...

"Hm. Kazef is its name." He said, more to himself than to anyone else. Ardghal had not realised the dragons took names for themselves. Nor that they may have personalities. His own ignorance hit him hard. It was valuable information, no matter how small. "We must admit however...That we know very little on how your society stands, as it is. Not many venture so far to find us, let alone speak in a manner that is civilized towards us." He gestured to himself, to bring attention the state of his body. "And not many care to."

[Anonymous]

"Uh, yeah. He's kind of an ass to be honest." Alaric gave a small smile, "Don't tell anyone I said that." Honestly, he hated the dragon. He had it better than some, much worse than others when it came to dragons. He envied the Pilots that had such good relationships with their dragons.

"Oh, well, I guess few people really want to come out here. It's not really easy to be in the wastes." Alaric gestured his own face, mostly covered by the mask that filtered the air. He felt he should make some comment about the dryads appearance, but everything in his head sounded wrong.

So he settled on something else, "I hope...I hope you wont hold my being a Pilot against me. I would like to be able to come back here. If I can." He was lonely enough that even chatting with an angry wasteland mutant wasn't that bad. And they were moving away from the accusations.

[Anonymous]

Ardghal set his gaze to the mask the Pilot was wearing. He could see nothing behind the visor; the protective gear to fend off the toxicity of the waste lands around them. But by the gesture, just as he previously gestured to his own body, had begun to stir more questions in his mind. The dryad did not know the face behind the equipment and with his uneasiness quavered. He was vulnerable in a way that the Aedolian was not. A face could say many things a voice would not dare.

“You do not believe that our inability to trust is not holding your station against you, Pilot?” The dryad sounded nearly genuine in the inquiry. Almost. There was a snaking snarl at the end with the word pilot. While the majority of his temper had settled, it was always near the surface to spill over once more. He began speaking again without allowing Alaric to answer to question - if it was even a question at all. “We give our permission to visit again. This has…Not been entirely displeasing. Do not bring more than you are now, however. It is only an invitation to you, Alaric Eftwryd.” He said. “We cannot assure that your…Comrades…Are shown with the same mercy.” He used the term ‘mercy’ loosely.

[Anonymous]

"Well, no. I mean, I have to earn your trust, right? We hardly know each other. But I hope that you wont let the fact that I am what I am make it imposable for you to trust me." The dryad was fascinating really, and Alaric wanted to get to know more about him. Know more about this place.

He smiled, though it was hard to see behind the mask, "Thank you. I'm not sure when I can make it back, but it shouldn't be to long. And promise, I wont bring anyone else." He held his hand out again, "It was a pleasure to meet you Ardghal."