Sight Beyond Sight

A cold wind blew through the air. The last remaining leaves left on the trees scattered, as flecks of ice hit the Elven womans face. Young by all measures, with long orange hair and dark skin, and with a face that hid the vast wisdom she held, those around her underestimated her, a mistake many had made before. Wiping the frost from her nose, Liliana Hargrave drew a deep breath. She turned over her hand of cards, dropping it onto the wooden table with a calm demeanor, though she had to fight to hold back the encroaching grin. The others at the table looked down in awe. Five Kings.

"Son of a whore! Again?!" shouted a man, not so dark as Liliana, and hair pulled back into a dreadlocked ponytail. He slammed his fist on the table as he spoke, with enough force to nearly break it in two.

Liliana let out a yawn. "Calm down, Cyric, it's just a game."

"One which you always seem to win, Mistress Liliana," said another young woman, the ever polite Silona. "And one which you always insist on playing."

Liliana shrugged, the smile finally escaping, clear for all to see. The sound of metallic fingers clicking together echoed across the rooftop where the strange menagerie of people played. The black-clad Deimos remained perfectly still as he spoke.

"The odds of such a hand... Incredibly low. And you, mortal. Cyric, is it? You say this... Woman, she has done this before, yes?"

Cyric of Retherdale leaned forward, sighing. "That's right, metal man. Did you see it? Did you figure out how she does it?"

Eyeing the hopeful expression on his face, the Formis shook his head slowly. "No. I did not. She did not do anything at all, of that I am certain. Now that you also know for certain, I warn you that if you... *Distract me* from my duties again, you may be found at the bottom of a shallow ditch. Good day."

As Deimos stood, and quickly paced away from the table, the remaining players stared at him, then each other, with confused looks.

"Fucking hell... Think he meant it?" Liliana wondered, perhaps not intentionally out loud.

Cyric shrugged. "I don't think so. He was probably just tired of me asking him to watch, I still think you're cheating."

The Elven woman rolled her eyes. "I was talking about the death threat, not his critiquing of my gaming skills, but alright."

Nodding as if he knew so all along, the man stood, stretching out his arms. Soon enough, Silona joined him, and the group bid their farewells to each other. The only person remaining at the table, Liliana chuckled slightly, putting all of the cards back into their box. Pulling her dusty white cloak over herself, she wondered why the others insisted on playing on the roof, even despite the ever growing cold. Stepping down a ladder, back into the keep that had been her home for some time now, she could not help but smile. Times had been hard, here. And she wished she never had to come here at all. But even so, she had made friends here, and lots of them. Even if the circumstances that brought them together were dark, she was still happy each and every time she saw one of them, even when they were upset with her obvious cheating at cards.

The sun would soon set. Nearly a full-blooded Elf, she saw little point in sleep. Especially not lately. Not when her dreams could be... Interrupted. The night was young, as was she. Surely she would be able to find a way to occupy her time. Waving at some passing soldiers, she walked across the bridge in the center of town, stepping into the liveliest building at this hour: The Silver Rose Inn. The owner had already gone to bed, though Liliana couldnt imagine how he could sleep with all the racket inside. Merriment of all kinds, from townsfolk enjoying their evenings, to soldiers on leave drinking their fill, to the plucking of an instrument on the stage in the back. It had been a while since she had listened to a tune. Pulling up a stool, she looked up at the woman on the stage. Pale and slender, with hair the color of snow, and clothes as dark as pitch, with an expression to match, the now golden metal hand Claudia sported seemed to affect her playing of her instrument very little. Some of the other customers clapped along to the beat, having heard the song many a time since the war began, and the woman began playing in the inn.

She joined in the applause that filled the room as the other woman finished playing. Her face in a blank stare, she gave a small bow, and hopped off the stage, taking a seat next to Liliana. Resting her metal jaw on her matching palm, she stopped a moment to simply stare at the woman next to her. Liliana could not help but marvel at the orange color of her eyes. The two began to speak, talking of music, the inn, the war, their friends, and more. They did not speak often to one another, but when they did, it always went on for hours. And talk for hours they did, and all the while Liliana stared into those strange, baleful orange eyes.

Liliana blinked, and when she did, all she could see was one of those eyes, solid orange save for the pupil, staring down at her from above. That eye blinked, and opened up into a face, orange in color and featureless, like a metal sheet, clad in green armor, traced in gold. The green armor, too, was surrounded by orange, which stretched out onto the horizon like a burning sunset, The marching of countless metal warriors filled her ears, as the orange sunset was soon treaded upon by those same warriors, the beat of their footsteps emerging out unto a great plain of gold, with mighty spears that struck into the sky. Across that sky, a great serpent, shining like silver, but even brighter, arced across the open air, dodging the point of each spear with great deftness. It reached up above, grabbing hold of the orange eye that was the sun, and swallowed it whole.

When Liliana awoke, she was no longer in the Silver Rose. Instead she was in her bed, lying down next to the man that would one day be her husband. Sweating, she quickly looked around, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. Another one of her dreams. But how much had been real? What did it mean? Did it mean anything at all? And more importantly... Why would Cyric invite Deimos to their card game?