Ian slowly woke up, bundled in his dark cloak and crimson scarf. Awake from his nap, he observed his surroundings, forgetting where he fell asleep. He barely make out a sign above, as he was still dazed from his nap, which said "Al-Filisteeni Book Store". Not knowing what he would do today, he decided he may as well get a quick drink from a nearby tavern, then search for anymore sort of information on magic from the bookstore.

As Ian made his way towards the tavern, he noticed the aftermath of a small commotion. Rather than heading straight into any trouble, as he much rather avoid it, Ian decided to just head straight back towards the book store.

Tyr pulled Sera along until they arrived at the bookstore mentioned by the cloaked man. In an attempt to lean against a wall to catch her breath, Sera did not notice that the front window was ajar and fell through, crashing to the wooden floor below.
The din caught Tyr's attention, and he instinctively kicked open to front door and took cover inside, realizing that there was no actual commotion when he saw Sera on the ground. Pulling her up, he turned to view of shop itself, noticing an elderly man, but what caught his eye was the man's irises.
"I assume this would be the place the cloaked individual resides," he spoke up. "He here now?"

Sera spun around the room, fascinated. This was similar to the library of Urbel, albeit smaller. Immediately she walked towards a wall of books and pulled one from its spot. Examining it, she noticed that the few differences between Urbel tomes and surface books were the content. This specific title was named "Anatomy of the Living Being," and featured many finely detailed images of skeletal structures and organs, something she had never seen in Urbel, due to the outlying factor that those of Urbel never came down with an illness or died, so there was no need to study the body. However, she wondered if her body was similar to that of the surface dwellers.

OOC: short, I know, but everything should converge soon, once Ichigo enters the city and Kiki reaches the set destination, then it will be longer.

Mahmoud could feel the entrance of a few rowdy individuals but their presence felt similar to that of his son and himself.

"I assume this would be the place the cloaked individual resides," the gruff male spoke. "He here now?"

Mahmoud only turned to towards the interior of the shop from which Qalim emerged. His outfit was white save for the coat that was worn over the top of it. The hood was lowered so they could see his near shaven head and his glass eyeball. This was unusual but so were his guests. He was still armed just in case but there was no need to make it apparent.

"Here is the book for that woman father," he said putting down a tome on the counter before turning to his guests, "I assume you have come here to talk about the remnant clans, have you not brother?"

He offered them some his father's morning brew, a strong drink that kept you awake, and invited them inside.

"I am Qalim ibn Mahmoud al-Sahrani and the 108th Keeper of Lore. Ask me anything."

The carriage ride was relatively uneventful, it seemed that she had gained some-what of a reputation, which probably contributed to the peaceful ride. When leaning her arm on the side of the carriage wall she could make out the voices of mothers telling their children to behave or the woman inside would make you disappear. Aranida almost laughed to herself, while it wasn't exactly false information the way they described it made her seem as if she were some sort of sorceress. She scoffed at magic, and those who still searched for it, it had never done anything for her except take away the people she loved. So unlike most of the city and perhaps the entire kingdom she never depended on it, nor wished for it to return.

She stopped at a medium sized two-story house, the red brickwork and smoke coming from the chimney seemed inviting. However the forbidding wall with various spikes along the top surrounding the wall said otherwise. She stepped out of the carriage, both of her pistols c*** in her pockets which she kept her hands in. The gate closed behind her and she c*** the pistols and placed them on a silver tray that one of her servants held out waiting for her. Two other servants walked out through the double doors, one of them an elderly woman, wiping her hands on her apron the other a younger man, who looked older than he actually was due to his tendency to over stress himself. Even now he wrung his hands fretfully waiting for her at the top of the stairs that led to the doors of the home.

"What is Meldo" asked Aranida impatiently while entering the home followed by her two servants.

"Lady Aranida, the guards were unsuccessful in completing the task you had assigned them" stated the man nervously.

Aranida stopped and sighed, combing her fingers through her hair. "And what excuse do they have for taking care of such a minor task?"

"They say that they all dispersed quickly after you left Miss Aranida."

Aranida sighed once again "Useless, the whole lot of them. Tell them I expect one hundred laps and five hours of shooting practice. They best not expect me to supply the ammunition."

"Yes, Lady Aranida, the dragon guard runs so smoothly because of your wisdom" he said while bowing and exiting the home quickly.

"Come come Rani" stated the elderly servant with the apron in a motherly fashion. "You look famished come eat"

"Yes, Greya, that is an excellent idea. Could you please have the servants bring me the map of the city as well as the various sheets of information collected from intelligence this past week"

"As you wish, dear" she said while pouring a hearty bowl of soup for the young woman.

Tyr and Sera followed Qalim inside the room. Immediately Tyr began to explain the situation.
"Qalim, I originally wanted to ask about the remnant clans, but a more important issue has risen. The appearance of many yellow eyes is frightening me. Legend has it that many yellow eyes outside of the respective clan is an omen. The dispersing is not an age related issue, but is somehow habitual, as if yellow eyes recognize some sort of ending day. If that was not an omen enough, this woman possesses the eyes, yet she recognizes no clan formations at all. If she is yellow eyes, but does not belong to a clan, then there is only one other recourse."

Sera was beginning to fear that they somehow knew her mission, and in a panicked state, she interjected.
"O-of course I know of these clans!" she started, stuttering as she was trying to conveniently wrap up the issue. "I'm...I'm from the...northern most one!"

Tyr raised an eyebrow at her, suspicious, yet did not reply, leaving Qalim to soak in what information he provided.
_________
"Mistress, you have returned."
An elderly man entered the room, balanced on a cane. Prodding the path before him, he came to rest at the table. His hair was completely grayed out, most of it already fallen out in clumps. He sported an unkempt beard similar to that of a hermit. Not only was he blind, but his spine was crooked beyond belief, and his famine stricken body was as bare and thin as ever. He was a walking corpse, still alive for unknown reasons, but that did not trump the fact that he was important to the legions. As a figurehead, he represented ambition, kept alive by his inhuman drive to stay mobile. There are myths spoken about him being experimented on back in the heyday of the magical sciences, but they prove little concerning his long life.

He freed a wry grin from his rigid face.
"It is I, Djehuti. How many I serve you today?"

The man and the woman spoke words and Qalim soaked them in, reaching in to his memory for any relevant connections they could possibly have. He took a sip of the brew, black and bitter yet hot as it was consumed. The woman claimed to be from a northern clan but the man thought otherwise.

"Of course it was always best to introduce yourself no?" Qalim asked, slightly annoyed but continued anyways, "As far northern clans go, I have heard very little in regards to their existence and even if one were a remnant, I would suspect a more dilapidated look. You don't seem so and your plentiful ignorance of the city streets does not suggest you are nobility who has lost their way."

Qalim sipped his mug again and continued.

"Which brings you to me regarding the issue of this omen you seem so intent on bringing to head. My clan has kept records since we were cast out of the garden of our faraway father for whatever hubris we caused and I suspect we are being made to suffer in penance by living in these times. There have been theories as to the future appearance of a messenger and what it would mean but the most popular always suggested the beginning of the end. Supposing that this woman is a messenger from our faraway father, I do not think she is here for our salvation. Descendants of a remnant or not, people always love a good scare, anything to get other to stand in line."

He stopped for a moment before drawing from his mug. He turned to the woman, staring at her intently, searching for the matches in his memory from the details that she had about her.

"So, who are you?" he asked idly, waiting for their replies.

Aranida took a sip of the soup that Greya placed before her and moved the rest of the bowl to the side. It wasn't that it tasted bad, in fact it was probably one of the best soups she had tasted, as was to be expected of Greya , it was just that she had so much to do. She had things to plan, the tasks of eating would have to take a backseat while she led her dragons. A servant walked over to her side and handed over a series of papers with maps of the different problem areas in the city, she was further provided with pages of intelligence collected by her spies.

She took another sip while reading over one of the intelligence pages when one of her oldest and trusted servants presented himself. There were a few in the world she had left to trust. Djehuti, Greya and Salass were her most loved of her servants, and she didn't care if all the other servants knew that, those three had the most seniority and they practically raised her themselves after her parents disappeared along with magic.

"Djehuti" she said pleased while sipping another spoonful of soup after the watchful glare of Greya mentally prompting her to eat more. "How goes word around the city, anything of note that could help me more than all these papers?" she indicated to the pile of intelligence information collected by her spies.

A lone man entered the room. Rushing through the doors limped over to Aranida. He was hurt, a trail of blood was left behind him, dripping off his wounds. His leather armor was nearly in ruins, the upper left portion torn away entirely. Wounds and blood covering most of what was exposed. His short brown hair a mess, his skin covered in dirt. The man who simply was known as Hans reached through a pouch and removed the contents of them.

"Mi...milady!" He announced. "I....I have an urgent report." He was one of her spies, though he claimed to be better than most. He breathed heavily and presented a stack of papers. He knew under no circumstances was he suppose to meet with her. Even the slightest chance of being traced back could easily ruin many things, but the severity of his wounds made him question how much longer he could perform his duty for as did the nature of this report.

“It….it….it is imperative you read this report…” He remained professional, standing, obviously holding back whatever pain he had been feeling. “The……the news……I know not….no time to review it. I think….I think it is grave” His tone was not of distress, more of urgency, though growing weaker.

((Hope you don't mind, feel free to do whatever. : p))

Aranida looked the man over once with an emotionless glance in his direction. She took another spoonful of soup before sighing and leaning back in her chair. She truly hoped he hadn't blown the cover of something direly important to her and her superiors. The man continued to bleed all over her pristine tiled floors and she made a mental note to make sure the guards never let such an incident happen again.

"Djehuti" she finally spoke, "Please read to me what this man has discovered. Perhaps you will find some similarities between his report and your own?" She waved over one of the maids who lined the wall patiently awaiting her orders "Anna, take this man to the infirmary, and have him cleaned up," She watched as he continued to bleed on her floor."Please make sure that he doesn't touch anything...or smudge anything more than he already has."

The maid, Anna nodded and walked over to the man's side and helped him up, Aranida snapped her fingers and two other servants helped Anna lift the man up. "You" she said to the man "Have served me, the Dragons, and the city valiantly. I do hope that your efforts weren't in vain and that you recover to see the fruits of your labour."

"I too, mi'lady." He replied weakly with a smile. "Make sure you.....take action before it's too late. Please." He fell in their grasp, at their mercy letting himself become limp.

"Forgive the mess."

He relaxed as they began to take him away. Wounded, he was unsure if he would make it a moment longer. His breathing slowed, and his conciousness fading, he cursed his body, a fragile thing so easily broken. As he drifted away his body went limp in their hands. At this point, his fate was left in the hands of the medical staff.

((I'll leave what happens to him to you : p))

Sera began stuttering with her words again, but Tyr cut her off before she could do so any further. She decided kept her mouth shut, as her terrible fibs only ruined the conversation at hand.

"That's Sera, from what she told me. I have no clue where she is from, but yellow eyes are enough to believe anything. As for me, I'm Tyr, of the remnants near the Asadic Coast."
He decided that it was not an issue to continue. He could trust a fellow remnant.

"It's around 50 miles to the west, and I frequent the roads along the nearby cities. The odd thing is, I'm surprised I didn't know you existed, Qalim. Most remnants this close to my clan are from there, and I don't recognize you at all. If what you know about the remnants is true, then where is your original place of conception located?"
________
Djehuti followed her mistress' command, slowly reaching for the documents and lifting them to eye level.

"Mistress, it is relevant to what I had come to report," he explained his a jarring rasp. "The immigration reports have arrived from the capital. There has been a large influx of illegal refugees from the ongoing civil war in Jenogh. What is more, this document affirms my beliefs about the true nature of that war."

He wet his lips as he began, "The cause being a new, rampant genocide. According the these reports, several hundred of so called 'yellow eyes,' as they are termed, have been slaughtered in the most unsavory methods. Burnt in the Wickerman, decapitated, and so forth. If mistress does not recall, they went through a similar phase with the 'amazons.' Furthermore, the governor wishes for all platoons to be sent towards the capital."

The man finally introduced himself as Tyr, the woman was Sera and by the looks of it, she wasn't very convincing. Tyr was from the Asadic Coast, which was relatively close to the city. Qalim was surprised when Tyr asked him for his own origin. It wasn't that obvious that the very book store bore the name of his origin.

"I don't have as much a clan as I do a lineage," Qalim answered, "The location which we found ourselves in when we were cast out from the heavens is what was to be called the Filistine Desert far to the east of Jenogh. Hence the name of this book store, which translates in to 'the one from Filistine'. I must admit that I have only achieved the title of Keeper of Lore recently so I may not be as knowledgeable as my elder brothers of the same lineage. My father tends to this book store here and he is blind, like those who seemed to be deemed unworthy, and thus him and I have been mostly preoccupied with keeping to ourselves. But since there seem to be more remnant than recorded, perhaps I should look further in to this matter with my own eyes. Perhaps I may even rediscover old lines that have long been recorded as having ended."

This was what got Qalim giddy with excitement, as much as he tried to hide it. The anticipation of a discovery and the documentation of it all was almost too much to suppress. He didn't say it but his line were almost obsessed with wanting to be there themselves at the end of time and boast that they had seen it all, leaving no regrets. However, they were immortal no longer and so began the tradition of establishing Keepers of Lore, a title that one achieved through archiving the history of the lineage as well as remnant clans in their head. The only other greater title would be that of an Immortal Historian, a Keeper who had documented several world changing events and was able to pass it on to the rest so that their knowledge did not die out or become outdated.

His excitement was dulled by the arrival of Bahaa through the front door. He was bruised and beaten, cheeks wet and dirtied as if from a fight. Youth, thought Qalim, probably another squabble that he would not need to deal with. Bahaa may share a house with a hired blade but Qalim was not a petty killer.

"Qalim! Qalim!" Bahaa bawled, paying no heed to the guests, "Its terrible! My friends said that 'yellow eyes' were the cause of troubles and that I was a slave to a demon! But I know you, you're not like that! They're even saying the ones at Jenogh started the war!"

Qalim took him in his embraced, trying to calm down the child, shielding him with his black robes before raising his head to the woman who had spoken little and most likely, falsehoods. Was this the beginning of the end? He had no proof but decided to test her anyway, to see if he could get the right reaction out of her.

"So what news does father bring us, sister Seras?" he asked, trying to not sound menacing.

An afterthought struck him though, what of his brothers in Jenogh and beyond? Is this but a small preview of the persecution soon to follow?

Sera found herself at an impasse. Staring at her feet, she gathered a deep breath, sighed, and began her explanation.

"When God threw out the instigators, he turned his back on them and their descendants for nearly 4000 years. So long, that he claimed he had forgotten the surface people existed. When he looked down below, he saw the constant violence of the surface people, and said they had not progressed at all since he originally evicted them. He was ready to completely destroy all surface people, but we decided to protect them and prove that they are not all evil and do not all deserve to die. I was sent down to oversee the surface for a brief time, but after hearing of this strife, I am unsure how I can protect the surface."

She looked to Tyr and Qalim, staring into their yellow irises.
"If you really are my brothers, then I can't let him destroy you or any other 'remnants.'"

Tyr soaked it in for a minute.
He shook his head and walked out of the bookstore. It was too strange, too implausible to be real.

It was late day now, the sun was plummeting over the horizon as the vagrant began to part the ocean of city dwellers searching for an Inn. Stumbling street to street he eventually settled on a back road that was almost empty. Reading the signs of the different shops his eyes became lost in the attractions, when suddenly he collided with a figure who seemingly fabricated out of no where.

OOC: Yeah, I ran into your guy Whim, I figured I couldn't wait for the actual time I wanted to come in, so s*** entrance it is.

OOC: Oh what the hell, might as well post....

"Genocide" she echoed. "Exactly what we need" she stated bitterly while taking another sip of her soup. "As if this plight we have at the loss of magic was not enough." She laced her fingers together and rested her head on them with her eyes closed, before sighing and getting up from her seat. The soup bowl empty, aside from a few vegetables that Aranida still childishly refused to eat.

"Thank you for the food Greya" she said warmly while picking up the series of papers and charts off the table, tucking them under her arms. "I would be suffering from malnutrition were it not for your efforts to feed me"

"Your health is my reward Mistress" replied the elderly woman with a smile while wiping her hands on her apron. "Now go, I assume you have serious business to attend to. Do not expend all of her energy Djehuti! She may be a commander, but she is still a young woman." Aranida raised an eyebrow, though laughed and exited the dining room purposefully while expecting that Djehuti was following.

"So tell me, Djehuti, what can you tell me of these yellow eyes? Is there any reason why anyone would wish to harm these people. Surely they can't be a problem if they're not populous enough to even be noticed by someone as myself."

__________________________________________________

The servants placed the battered man on the bed. Anna began to tend to his wounds murmuring a polite sorry, every time she believed she had caused him pain. Eventually a doctor entered the infirmary, it was apparent in their facial features that the doctor and the maid were sisters.

"Sarah!" exclaimed Anna cheerfully, then darkened her expression remembering the condition of the man who lay on the bed. "I am so happy to see you!"

"As am I little sister, but perhaps we could discuss pleasantries after we were sure that the man were not to bleed out the remaining blood in his body onto the bed." The doctor snapped on a pair of gloves and opened a medium sized bag filled with her various tools. She took out some antiseptic and began to apply it to the body and to the man's various wounds, ensuring that they wouldn't get infected. "This is quite unusual for the mistress, she doesn't usually take in regular soldiers." stated Sarah curiously, knowing that her little sister had a story to tell.

"That's because he isn't!" replied Anna "He is a member of the Mistress' intelligence, and apparently he had information that was so important that he was attacked! He interrupted her dinner and messed up the floors and everything! It was very exciting!"

"I see" replied Sarah while beginning to stitch some of the larger wounds together that could not be simply kept closed with gauze as some of the others had been. "I wonder what could have been of such great importance that he would go to the commander directly.

"Me too!" said Anna while clasping her hands to her chest envisioning what she believed to be the epic quest that soldier had to go through.

Sarah chuckled to herself, spying her imaginative sister from the corner from her eyes. "You did a good job of cleaning the wounds, perhaps if you wanted you could become my nurse in the future."

"Oh I don't know I never was suited for book work" replied Anna, blushing while flapping her hands at her sister, she was never good at receiving praise and always tended to humble herself. "I hope he'll be alright" she said changing the subject.

"We shall see, but it looks good."