The runes that encircled them had grown dim as minutes dragged on, the power imbued within them being used up as they continued to pull heat into the lava, dropping the temperature further. The lightning had stopped and so too would the rain only to be replaced by ice and snow.

Despite having a few layers of clothing, despite the circle acting as a buffer for the two, Tristan could feel the chill of the air; could feel the temperature dropping. The Wizard's Lava spread out in about a hundred yards around the two, and any warmth in the air within the radius would be poured into the lava, which had cooled on top now-- dark red rivers ran beneath, the heat breaking the cooling top layer, seeped from these cracks only to be cooled in turn.

At the mans warning, the Wizard noting the changes to his companion absently, he bent to place a hand on the sand beneath them. Using his Additive magic, trickling traces of Subtractive magic within, he bonded the sand together; as he did this, the other hand began to draw in the loose, top layer of sand: another circle of power that glimmered lightly with blue magic. The hardened sand that the two men now occupied began to shift, rumbling as it shook free from the earth to rise into the sky, the temperature much colder as they rose about twenty feet in the air. The hardened platform of sand moved towards the south, carrying them away from the squid and outside the Wizard's Lava, which had started to progress forward. Where the hardened sand had been, lava soon filled.

'We will still have to run as I cannot carry us much further.'

As it was, they were already starting to drift closer to the ground, and soon, they would be grounded once more. When the platform drifted about five feet, Tristan jumped off of it; once the hardened sand hit the ground, it would break apart, returning to its original loose form. He frowned at the man, looking back behind Sol at the tentacles that were still so gigantic. The raptor-like gaze caught the man's own again, the blue eyes glacial and cold; the anger had already started melting, the easy grin already starting to spread across his face.

'So there is more to this journey, then, for why else would you put yourself through such peril? Especially knowing that your own blood curses you here as it does?', the War Wizard wanted to offer to fix that, to eliminate that part of Sol, but held his tongue lest he insult the man. 'Have no fear, however, young Sol. We will get through this.'

Tristan looked back at the tentacles, at the snow storm raging within; the ice and snow melting on the lava, further cooling it; eventually, should the storm rage for so long, when the lava didn't evaporate the water, small rivers of water would flow into the desert here until the sand soaked it up, quenching its eternal thirst.

The wizard summoned his magic, black lightning crackling around the fingers of both hands to twist up his arms; the electricity connected with the sand a few times before the magic vanished.

He tsked at the man, 'What's the point of hiring help when you have to do the work yourself?'

The black lightning came again, this time from beneath the robe that cloaked him against the sun; the garment melted away as the lightning came to life against the simple clothes that were previously hidden. His feet planted themselves as well as they could against the sand, the Additive side of his powers gathered at the soles of his feet, sending out pulses of magic that would bounce back to him when they would hit solid surfaces. The thin surface of power beneath his feet allowed him to almost glide across the sand as he started to dance a tattoo upon the ground in a circle around the young man. Where his feet touched, the sand solidified until individual runes and sigils could be seen.

As the circle of power completed itself, a ring of runes which glowered lightly with power entrapped the two men.

The sand around the runes started to blacken, some even crystalizing to form glass that would crack, shatter. Soon, smoke began to rise from the runes, and thus the sand; it came from beneath the shattered glass, and even a few small pieces began to float before breaking into dust to become nothing. The light that started to emanate from the runes started to crackle with dark power; the same lightning from before, a representation of his Subtractive magic, began their dance across the circle of power to be joined with the smoke, as well as small sparks of fire.

Soon, as if from the bowels of the earth, lava would pour forth from the runes, pouring out onto the sand, away from the men. A form of Wizard's Fire, though Wizard's Magma, or Lava, would probably best suit this spell. As the lava spread out, became more, the air in the desert around them began to freeze as the heat was sucked from the air to fuel the spell. His Additive magic multiplied the heat, pulling from the heat already in the air, or in this case, from below. The drastic temperature change from the lava and the resulting cold in the air produced steam, which he gathered to create a thin barrier of it between them and the outside.

The access of the steam would rise to the sky, enough so that it would begin to darken; as the lava grew more intense, lightning started to pierce the sky and thunder boomed its voice.

As they had been walking, Tristan had taken it upon himself to pull a notebook from a pouch at his waist, opening it as he looked around; a pencil moved from his pocket to float just above the paper. As he surveyed the area his pen jotted down a few notes, sketched quick drawings of the flora, though little in the way of fauna had shown themselves.

It had been disappointing, to say the least, that he did not get to see the sand squid, though he felt such things would be much deeper in the earth than what he had delved his own magicks into; not that he couldn't explore beneath the sand under their feet, Tristan preferred to leave the leviathans alone lest he stir a nest. While the child, or man as the case may have been, talked a big game, the younger Rahl did not want to leave things to chance.

However, Sol had demonstrated some control over the magicks within his body, though the changes were odd. Tristan had set aside a section in his notebook for his companion, noting changes in appearance as well as within the magic that swirled out of Sol's body, beating the heat off of them with the bubble of air. Tristan wasn't expecting the kid to just cut away the mountain of sand, which he'd have just plowed through given the strength of their 'shield'. Tristan would have just gone around, but he wasn't the guide here.

As they laid down for the night, Tristan pulled off his travel pack, setting in front of his lap as he pulled a few things from it; a blanket, a small pillow, as well as some dried meats and hard biscuit; the foodstuffs had been wrapped in a white cloth, a single glyph upon the folded cloth: a rune of preserving. 'Have no fear, as I am prepared.'

With that being said, Tristan indulged himself in the rations, washing down the food with a few drinks from the waterskin.

Tristan had forgotten how good it felt to be out in the world instead of secluded away in the D'Haran Palace; but that had been a privilege recently earned within the last decade. He was pushing towards his mid-thirties now.

His eyes became unfocused as he remembered the Deserts of Tshyml, a place far worse than the one he currently stood, and the company was better. However, the War Wizard allowed genuine shock take him out of his revelry.

'S-sand squid? The ones in the oceans are bad enough, and you are telling me there are ones in the sands?" The Rahl sighed in resignation, his head hanging low as he shook his head. 'Nothing for it, though. I am glad I have such a capable companion with me.'

The last words were said as the kid began to job towards their destination; noting the changes upon Sol, Tristan thought to comment on them, but let the moment pass. Tristan wasn't ready to answer the same questions should Sol attempt to turn them against Tristan in return. Still, they had a week to travel together. Plenty of time to get to know each other soon enough. He noted how Sol seemed more confident in himself, the energy around him not so quiet. Warmer, yes, but a warmth that could turn hot.

Besides, it gave the Rahl a chance to study a new magic.

Tristan had spent a lifetime studying his own, performing dangerous spells and rituals; pushing the limits of his imagination, of his own Gift. Being a Rahl made him a powerful wizard, but he was more than just that. His ability to wield both sides of the Gift, Additive and Subtractive magic, made him a War Wizard. His ability to use both sides of the Gift, as well as the many forms in which to use them, put him in a class different from his peers. He used his powers to serve his own ends, to satisfy his hobby of traveling.

He hated being in any one place overly long, given his life before.

So much running, he chuckled to himself, one would think one would grow tired of it.

The kids voice brought him out of his head once more, the change in his tone making his eyes narrow in distrust before he relaxed, remembering who Sol was. 'Soft sand, eh? It all seems pretty soft to me.'

Still, Tristan stepped more carefully.

'My magic is nothing compared to yours, I assure you. Just enough to look impressive.' An eyebrow rose at the emergence of water, as it started to grow into a rather nice pool; Tristan allowed his surprise to show. Tristan smiled softly, almost nervously, as if such a power intimidated him, but inclined his head to the younger mans question, 'As I stated, I merely got separated from my caravan. My father is a rather rich merchant from D'Hara, a distant cousin of the ruling family, Rahl; you may call me Tristan.'

The young War Wizard could feel his boots becoming soaked, his usual weather enchantments eroded from the long journey through the desert; nothing about the annoyance crept into his face, nor his voice, though he did remove himself from the water, wary of the young boy. Tristan's eyes were sharp, a dog sizing up a potential threat.

He spoke calmly, softening his gaze as he cleared the water, 'As I have suggested, perhaps we may travel together; more for my safety than yours, obviously. If money is not your goal, I may be able to help you find your families armory in return for your escorting me. I have wagons that you may use, have even.'

The young Rahl could feel his hands trembling with barely concealed excitement. The whole reason for his expedition out here was in search of some artifact to bring back to the Palace of the People. How fortunate to run into such a capable young man, despite how odd the boy seemed. Tristan drained his waterskin that he held.

He pulled back his cloak to pull the other two waterskins, which were also empty, and started to refill them from the lake that had been produced.

His ears picked up the faint yelling of his destination and let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding.

Tristan picked the words out eventually, though he noticed the young man was armed; the change in the wind was noted, black lightning arcing between the fingers of his right hand, but it was briefly as he noticed the man, no, the boy look down. The Wizard allowed himself a smile.

Using his Additive Magic, Tristan used small razor winds to shave his face smooth.

A bandit? He chuckled wryly, shaking his head, and closed the distance so that they would not have to yell at each other, especially in such a desolate environment; Tristan pulled a waterskin out and offered it was an olive branch to the younger man. 'Were I bandit, would I be unarmed? Let alone hail you in such a manner? As a token of newfound trust in strangers, please allow me to quench your thirst.'

Tristan took a sip from the offered waterskin to show that nothing was wrong with it and offered it again.

His own paranoia was infecting his thoughts and it was hard to keep the smile fixed on his face; though his eyes were hard as they gazed at the man before their owner, the young Rahl. He didn't allow the thoughts to affect his demeanor as he stood there.

Tristan's quest had taken him to strange lands, times when he had been alone for months and times he had company for just a few days, and figured it would be no different than now. But he had his horse, which he needed to get back. He hoped that the troupe would allow him to have his horse and his things back, but he knew it was unlikely. Tristan's horse would defend itself somewhat, but at the end of the day, it still was a creature, no matter what kind of intelligence it had been gifted with.

The horse was replaceable but some of his possessions were not.

His teeth ground against each other at the thought, his pupils narrowing. 'I have been separated from my caravan. I have been wandering this region for days now and, if it were not for my fathers overly cautious nature, I would have been dead the day I was separated. I have been lucky enough to avoid the wild animals of this region, but that luck is coming to an end as I can feel their eyes hunting me at night. This is, as well, my last waterskin.

'You are the first person I have seen and, from the distance and it seemed I was right, you looked capable as well as armed. I fear I would not make it without some help.'

Mostly false truths, but Tristan knew that he would hardly come across as helpless. A decently well-off merchant's son with a knack for expeditions, to further his fathers goals in trading all over the world. A decent enough story, Tristan figured, but would allow the boy to make his own assessments.

It had been many days since Tristan had been separated from the caravan.

He sighed, peering up at the sky to locate the sun. He murmured softly to himself as he stretched out his arm and held his hand against the sun, judging the time; just an hour or two after noon; the sun just past its zenith.

The young Rahl had been traveling many weeks, the last few had been with the aforementioned caravan; his training at the D'Hara Palace had aided him in assimilating with the traveling troupe. They had even offered him a place amongst their ranks, which touched him in a way he hadn't felt in a long while. It had been a wonderful time, drinking and laughter was always welcome to him.

The Wizard's hood slid down and obscured his vision. A hand pulled it off of his head, freeing his eyes from its obstruction. The wind was harsh against his face, sand getting tangled in the brown hair that had grown past his ears during his travels. Tristan kept his face shaven, though for his purposes at
present he allowed his beard to grow; his dark blue eyes scanned the area, locating landmarks and adjusting his position with the sun. The black shroud, which seemed contradictory to the environs he was in, kept him cool-- no perspiration lined his forehead or fell down the back of his neck. Aside from the shroud, Tristan Rahl was adorned in traveling gear of decent quality.

The man was unarmed, his horse back with the caravan that Tristan had gotten separated from, which was just his luck. He knew he was on the right track though and thus, was not in too much of a hurry. He was a Wizard.

There was a strange cloud in the sky, which off quite a distance. That was his horse; Tristan's horse had a tracking spell for just these reasons, as the Rahl would oft stray days away from his horse. It was a spell that activated after a certain distance had been met, which was also convenient. It was still odd, being able to use his magic so freely; to embrace his lineage finally after so many years of being hunted. While it had been years since his Uncle had been slain and all bastard Rahl children were allowed back into their homeland and offered sanctuary, a lifetime of running and hiding were hard to give up.

His blue eyes scanned the horizon and saw a figure off a ways.

Tristan sighed and yelled after the figure, hoping for a friendly face.

Sol had begun training under the mountains with Kiomishi to master his sword arts. Studying the laws of bushido as well as an ancient ever changing art known as natures flow. Natures flow is a technique giving the user many unique abilities while battling. Sol had to train under his homeland because of it's chaotic weather changes since their home was on top of a void to the elemental chaosrealm. While training for weeks became months and years, Sol only saw one other human being causing him to lose his joyful nature, but rather humble natured man. Sol had learned how to cause major wounds to his enemy without causing even the slightest pain or physical damage. This is done with the power of air magic being fused with the green flame of healing. Sol's training has made him a master healer of the highest degree, as well as the first person to achieve such a technique.

Sol was a man of 18, ready to journey this world and reap his rewards. His first quest was to the Gaean Great sea of sand. Sol would be taken off on his adventure today after he visits his home where Kiomishi has left him a special gift. As Sol entered his home, he immediately noticed a sage colored orb on his kitchen table. Upon further inspection he knew this was a jade dragon's egg, but there havent been any jade dragons for thousands of years. With many questions left on his mind, Sol would back the egg safely into a sling covered in the green flames. Sol would grip Aisling heavily letting out a great sigh. He did not want to leave yet, but he knew he must become stronger to over come his fears. The young man knew he had to find some way to regain his family's honor and slay the demon that killed them.

The now Ronin Sol had left out of the village for a couple of days now. He notices a very small tree with a carving etched deeply into it that read. "Creatures Welcome" With a raised brow he would enter a massive plains covered in a thin mist, hearing  whispers and echos of many "people". Sol knew of these plains, but couldnt recall the name of them. Sol begun seeing wraiths, or ghosts even of creatures of old, forgotten times. All leaving a simple yet kind message, " dont touch the **** tree, you may pick a rock." Sol laughed a bit and after opening his eyes noticed he was no longer in the plains anymore, but at the start of the sea of sands. He looked back to see if the plains were behind him, but his gaze was only met with a thick forest in which he had no memory of. As he gazed back over the desert, Sol knew it was time to cross a harsh world that he had never known.

A soft whisper, though closer to a tear drifted along the gentle air; caressing the trees and their arms as well the outstretched fingers that absorbed the sunlight. The grass reacted in gentle laughter as the whisper tickled the cells within.

But the gentle whisper was but a portent of who, or what, was to come.

Reality twisted slightly; a small warping of the fabrics that held this domain together. There was a sudden chill, a sharp bite, to the air; a crispness that threatened to burn the lungs from how deep this chill went. A coldness that seeped into the bones and refused to let go.

Demonreach had long since grown into a further sense of maturity. He had a few friends he would like to thank for that, and didn't want to credit himself too much lest they grow cross with him. Oh, sure, he was still the same in appearance; a giant of a creature with lean, taut muscles and silver-ebony hair that tickled the middle of his back. The same eyes of sapphire-azure still held that childish glee to them; the red, Celtic tattoo of never-ending knots decorated his body.

However, there was sense of timelessness to him; something that just seemed different. Even he could feel that growth in his bones, but it was something he was wary to describe or give name to. Frost glittered across his naked chest; a thin sheet cloaking the colorless pants that made nary a sound as he strode through this new domain; a catlike grin giving way upon his lips. If gods were personified, truly, Demonreach represented them in their beatific glory.

A dark mist gathered at his bare feet, dispersing with each step he took.

He let out a thunderous laugh, "I am here, friends.'

On the ghost ship Gravetooth, Captain Liligeer soared with his wraith band of pirates a crossed the limitless sea of Gaea Prime. He had been known in all of the world for his wit and strength.  Liligeer was once known to even have fought demigods to death with his barehands. He had been feared by enemies and loved by all his crew. He was an Apex predator and a noble man who would never yielded.

The massive creature was well over 800lbs and stood 9' tall. His mouth and teeth was covered with crystalline dust at all times and his breath smelled of rum and bedrock. His eyes were sharp and filled with cunning investigation.  He hated liers more than his enemies and all who met him knew to be ever truthful.

"What a boring day at sea, Let's find a port nearby and grab some.....precious gems." The wraith ship begun sailing north as the captain put a diamond into his mouth.