+The Tale of Shirix+

----------------------Enter Irish---------------------

The voices fell from the celebration as the white-haired witch with the black draconian headdress laughed loudly. It was by far the best day that the could have in their town, October 31st. The fog was gorgeous, the night sky seemed to dance in the lingering melody erupting from the group of werewolves singing.

Halloween Town was alive with the festivities, and Irish was just as excited. She was sitting at the fountain in the town square giving rune readings to the folk, at the moment talking intensely to a zombie.

She felt deeply inside the striped bag of stones for one that felt just right as the undead woman spoke to her. "I want to know the upcoming year will be a good one." Shirix replied sweetly, "My dear, it's always good luck to have your fortune read on the  new year!" She drew out a stone and smiled assuringly. The symbol looked rather like a pointy 'B'. Holding it between two fingers, she turned it to the undead woman. "Growth."

"Oh, thank the devil!", she cried. "A fortuitous reading!" Irish's sharp canines glinted as she laughed with her. "Indeed, it shall be a good one for you.", she replied. The cold, white eyes of the ghoul looked into hers questioningly after the laughter softened.

"Have ye done a reading for yourself yet, Miss Irish?", she asked. Irish looked off to the side as a skeletal dog pranced over to her. "I haven't.", she replied, as the zombie casually pulled off a small piece of her own flesh to feed the dog. "Ye really should... after all, it is as you said.... a blessing to have your reading done on the new year." Irish smiled softly. "I suppose you're right."

She closed her eyes and tossed back her hair, the long black ribbons that had previously fell over her front and hidden her striped corset and dress flew behind her and trailed into the fountain, flowing along with it. Her gentle hand once again delved into the bag. It seemed as though the stone placed itself between her fingers: she drew it out and examined the sparkling black stone. To the untrained eye, it simply had a 'R' carved in it. "Journey."

The decrepit woman's lack of skin in her face never allowed her to hide her teeth, making it almost difficult to tell when she smiled, yet it was obvious that she had some joy in her. "Aye, that can't be a bad one, can it, miss?" The livelier of the two gave an expression that seemed to agree. "I do suppose you could be right... however it has another meaning that I would be more concerned of.... but my dear, I'm sure no harm can come of me, after all, if I live half as long as you I'll live to be what, 20?" Bones audibly creaked as the ghoul laughed in return. "Irish, I'm over 800 and you know it! You'd only have two more years left on you if 20 was your day!"

Irish patted her on the shoulder and stood. "If you'll excuse me, I do have to be on my way.", she commented sweetly. The somnambulist nodded and set off, now content. Irish turned away, looking at the ground. The bricks were ancient, a small bug crawling out from one crack and into another. "Submission?" she whispered from blackened lips, gripping the bag of stones tightly.

Her heels clicked against the cobblestones as she took off running into the woods, where she felt she had the best communication. Nearly hitting a large man with an axe stuck in his head, she dashed aside and called out an "Excuse me!" behind her, then continuing.

Exiting the town through the black, twisted wrought-iron gate and icy air flushing her cheeks and filling her lungs, Irish felt the scenery occuring around her as its curls and twists seemed to reach for her. Her festive wear didn't allow well for the speed she went, although it did indeed make her all the more beautiful. Her frame tiny from the corset,  a fairy-esque black skirt erupting from it over her black and white tights. She was adorned with various charms and pieces to mark her of her craft that clinked and jingled with each step.

The clearing wasn't far. The calls of wolves in the distance sang out to her, Irish following without fear. The dark earth beneath her opened suddenly as she looked up to see trees erupted in a circle all around her. Mistified, she realized this was a place she had never seen before. Her magicked eyes were huge with excitement. She stepped slowly, appearing like a phantom as she took everything in. There were doors in the trees: different shapes, colors, and sizes. She saw one with a decorated evergreen, one with a pink egg... and one that caught her eye in particular.

There was a shamrock on a tree dead ahead from her. She felt a wave of curiosity wash over her unlike she had ever felt before. She wanted to remind herself that she had recieved an omen earlier of a submission, and it would not... be wise....

And yet, her light hand with the black nails rested on it's polished knob none the less. Shirix seemed to feel as though she was out of her own body, watching herself in the clearing: the moons light falling upon her figure, the sound of the trees, and the door opening...

"Looks like someone's luck has run out."

Everything was black.

----------------------Enter Shirix---------------------

Eyes opening faintly, she realized this was not where she was before. There was a single light falling on her from a window... and clearly through it was the moon. The angle of the light told her that she must have been very elevated...

Standing, she took in the surroundings once again of a new place- shadowed, it still unveiled some of it's contents. The furniture was much fancier than that of what she had at her simple home; a grandeur striped bed,  next to it a vanity with a massive mirror guarding an army of vials and potions.  A table marked with the symbols of her craft had a spread of runs lying across it in perfect formation. It was like a dream...

Her still tall heels on the ebony floor had a sweet click with her steps as she advanced to the window, where she found on the ledge what appeared to be a wand. She stepped into the light, much brighter than she imagined, and realized she was cloaked in black. Slightly unnerved that someone may have touched her whilst her memory failed to redress her, she grimaced. All still, she reached for the wand. It was a beautiful black wood, it's handle emblazoned with white circlets. Lifting it in the air, it seemed to come to life as she realized that a part of herself felt... dead.

With no time to ponder her situation, in the air before her appeared a script she recognized as her own- it read in white smoke:

"SHIRIX"

Air filled her lungs with the realization that it was her own name. Shirix: That's who she had always been, right? Of course it was.... She rolled the wand between her fingers to feel the grain and gave it another wave, as candles about in the room were awoken and a figure appeared from the new light. He was sitting on the bed where Shirix had just glanced moments ago. The hair atop his head turned from a cool blue slowly to a light red, his eyes still cold.

"Who are you?", she asked softly. He was quiet for a moment as he, just as she had done, paused to look around.

He smiled assuredly as a "Xelcan." came from his lips, not tripping on the metal ring that pierced them. He rose to his full height as he left the bed, a good bit taller than Shirix.  He had a confidence radiating from him, and yet still appeared friendly, despite his dark attire. Shirix noted him approaching and quickly said, "How did I get here?"

His steps sounded much warmer and softer as he stepped toward her and the window that she was at. He turned and looked into her eyes, and winked. Shirix's lips parted just enough for a small uttered sound of confusion to escape, as her eyes searched his for an answer.

"Welcome to the Organization."

Together at the same time, they looked out the window to see that they were in the top of a castle-- the highest tower of it. The land surrounding it was wove around, in and out to no where in particular until it seemed to just disappear.

It was a place unlike anything they had ever seen, because it was nothing they had ever seen. It was full of emptiness, just like themselves.