Finding Balance in Chaos pt. 1

Zaro steeled himself against the magic of the caves, the fur upon his back standing on end as the spines along his body seemed to quiver in response each time he passed a crystal cluster protruding from the caverns. Magic did not touch The Devil's Python, but it soaked the atmosphere beneath Vitalus and even here Zaro could taste it on the back of his tongue like a rot. This region did not suit him, and under normal circumstances, the Puller would never have ventured beyond Thedale's borders like this, but he'd been called. Called by something beyond a mere missive, something he felt pulling at his gut in a way he rarely did - the call of chaos in the web of the world like a spider might to her trapped prey. He'd come here in search of creatures long thought lost, forgotten to the sands of time, and he'd found far more than he'd expected.

Ashazara had bared him hence, carried him upon the beast's wings to the floating isles and magical lands of Vitalus so that he could descend beneath its crusts in search of his quarry. It followed him now, long feathers trailing the stone floors, talons clicking against like a broken timepiece as the duo traversed these unfamiliar lands.

The situation was rather easy to discern upon arrival, all things considered. Zaro was not one for idle chatter and 'making nice', but he'd learned quickly that the creatures - the Haedians - had a world all their own down here. Forgotten, lost, but not without its value. He'd encountered the Lost Ones first, who rebelled against their lot in life and cursed the names of those who cast them out. They sought retribution, or simply the means to survive, and Zaro was nothing if not pragmatic. This, he could do.

"Troall, the large one," His companion spoke for the first time in an hour, its raspy voice grating in his mind like unpolished stones, "What do you make of her?"

"Hm," Zaro considered this question as he padded towards the location some of the others had given him, where he might find supplies he could...procure for them, "She wears her leadership like a cloak to hide her thin frame. The Haedians that rely on her are as much her foundation as she is theirs."

Ashazara scoffed, its birdlike beak chittering in what Zaro had come to assume was some kind of laughter, though he'd never cared enough to confirm. They approached a stash of goods, and Zaro looked them over with a critical eye. They bore a mark of another clan, one he did not know, but that meant these were the ones he was meant to steal and that was what mattered now.

"You always speak in such riddles Zaro," His companion spoke again, stepping forth to loom over the crates in a way Zaro did not, "I simply wished to know if you...liked her." There was a peculiar way in which his companion spoke, and that made Zaro look up from his task, eyes narrowed.

"I do not like nor dislike any creature," A practiced answer born of a long history of keeping balance amidst the chaos of the untamed world, "You know this."

Zaro hefted some of the crates onto his companion's back, forcing it down closer to the ground to ease the movement. Ashazara grumbled a bit, but would never protest Zaro's instructions. It simply was not done.

"Of course," Was its reply, shouldering the burden of the stolen goods with no complaint as Zaro continued loading. They were silent then, both of them, not willing to draw attention to their criminal acts in a world they did not belong. Though in service of a clan, it was a clan of outcasts, and Zaro was more than familiar with how little they could do to protect them should it come to it.

They could not take much, nor would Zaro. Maintaining balance meant balance between all things, even fighting clans. He would steal these supplies and bring them back to the Forgotten ones, but he would not take more than he thought necessary to earn their favor and trust. The cache was suspiciously unguarded, though, in the darkness of the caves where the sound was unreliable, Zaro suspected they were being watched.

"We return, now," Zaro spoke at last, the deep rumble of his voice permeating the air like the magic in these caves itself, "Take care not to drop anything."

His companion nodded, shifting its weight so that their gait was more balanced and even, the goods Zaro had strapped among the powerful muscles of its shoulders clinking together softly in the silence. The journey back would not be long, and Zaro would not forget his way, but his keen eyes watched for danger all the same. His horned head held aloft even in the darkness, just in case they did indeed have observers of their theft.