Through twilight moments, the cart moved, passing the glinting plains of the Nasfa, where the distant ancestors once fought and died to bridge the clans. Bringing with it, much life fluid spilled in these sacred lands, yet providing stability to the Eron, Xiantu, and Reyopa. Devastating many while increasing the resources of each of the Ak-Wo, connected forever through sacrifice, united through peace and understanding.

There in the plains, much of the essence of each Ak-Wo melded with the thriving life of the plain. With it, hybrid creatures formed, of terra, yet nearly sentient. Flickering with their own bio-light, they communicated this way, blinking, pulsing, radiating their light source through the darkness, absorbing crimson from the heavens and thriving further. Becoming a sacred place for countless generations, the Ak-Wo avoided walking through these lands.

Forbidden to hunt here, each clan established their own treaty on the outskirts of this plain. Maintaining specific areas to traverse, the plains grew unmolested. Great brown, thorns erupted, over time, through the hard bedrock. A sea of jagged foliage threatening all who dare tread in their lands.

Through Pligal's death state, Dorn watched vigilantly. As the lights above flickered so the ones below embedded on terra reverberated. As the immense orbs, visible only as the terra god slumbered, moving in their heavenly domain, Dorn contemplated his path.

"How did I get here?" He thought as his orbs passed over each individual deep in their own death states. Focusing upon Pligal, Dorn surveyed the eron. "Such strength under his scales."

Pulsing light erupted within the plains of Nasfa. Deep burgundy, teal, and slivers of green radiated from them. Turning his orbs from Pligal to the plains, Dorn saw as a pattern emerged. Patches of light pulsed from one location before jumping to another, blinking rapidly, measured.

Squinting his orbs, Dorn studied them with fascination. Within a small area, near the size of the training yard, the plains moved and erupted with their dance of light. Swaying with the night breeze, many different patches of light seemed to move within their own circle of influence.

"Mesmerizing lights. It seems they are communicating with one another. Marvelous. To see such a thing, my blessings increase." Dorn thought to himself. Moaning audibly, the light sources stopped abruptly afterward.

Leaning towards them, Dorn widened his orbs trying to take in any lingering light sources before a wall shook him. Blinding light flowed from the boundary of the plains. Close to the cart, yet nearly two training yards away, it filled the darkness with their luminescence. Intense amber, fiery crimson, the thorns shook with them as they seemed to stretch out their limbs, closer, they appeared to come, reaching further, nearer, towards him.

Dorn froze as the light continued to radiate threatening his ability to breathe as his chest seized. Biting into his lip, Dorn caused his mind to return to him from the abyss of terror, from the land of dread as curiosity replaced the sensations.

Still, the tulac trudged through the path, ignoring the lights, maintaining its course. Atop its head, a small bead of azure flew and arced downward towards the rim of the plains, a single bead of plasma, from the talons of the driver. Turning towards the driver, Dorn's orbs strained as the light from the plain exposed him making a gesture for Dorn to remain quiet.

As the plasma landed, it took in some of the remnants of thorns lingering on the boundary. Setting them ablaze, it pulsed higher with more vigor, with more intent. Remaining far away from the plains, it burned the remnants of the debris as the lights in the field slowly died downward. Returning to their pulsing, they remained dim as the plasma blaze faded to the merest flicker.

Thinking to himself, Dorn studied their responses more intently, "Incredible, they seemed to respond to the threat of their existence while still communicating." Thinking about their actions, Dorn thought once more, "I don't feel they were harmful to us. They seemed more, like me. Safe, curious."

Stopping himself from making a quizzical thought aloud, remembering the driver's admonition, Making a respectful gesture, Dorn stood as the craft rocked back and forth. Gently, it rocked as the others slumbered in their death states, unaware of the marvel before them, the radiance of nature, the sublime wonder of the Ak-Wo's past.

As he stood, Dorn's vision blurred as his body quivered slightly. His death state, unable to be held off any longer, threatened to overtake him. Washing over him, enveloping him as waves of the acrid sea, dissolving every essence of his being. Quickly meeting its summons, Dorn swiftly knelt lest he falls off the cart taking them to Reyopa, the bastion of their people, the light within the Ak-Wo.

Darkness overtook Dorn as his orbs flashed to something emitted within the thorns of the plains of Nasfa. A glowing body radiated from the center of the thorns. Enveloped by brambles, it wafted as mere smoke. With deep dark orbs, it beckoned, its body constructed of light, shadows lining the apparent scales. Holding Dorn's gaze, it moved toward him as the last vestiges of energy drifted from him. Unable to remain conscious any longer, Dorn slipped into slumber, as the terra god would soon crest the horizon.

---

Naturally awaking from his death state, Pligal observed his surroundings with astonishment. His orbs remained wide as they passed over new terrain, different Ak-Wo, and the scent of something most vile. Realizing the cart remained in place, Pligal lifted himself slightly to see those traveling with him.

Still, within their death states, some moving slightly, the patchers, along with Sri bundled together. Dorn, with his massive frame sprawled out with the remaining room of the cart, his thorax deeply expanding as he slumbered.

Returning his attention, he glimpsed, once more, the grandeur of the land before him. Unlike the land of Duidon, Pligal's homeland, this place resonated with power and wonder. Large, smoothed silver obelisks speckled the lands. Reflecting the light of the terra god upon the land, glinted with golden flowing veins. Fashioned from stones, they remained in place as a testament of the power of the people of Reyopa while the city appeared to sit within the valley of great mountains surrounding it.

Spread into the distance, the city seemed to stretch deep within the mountains and up to the peaks. Silver obelisks glinted everywhere. Pligal marveled at the beauty of the land, how the terra god seemed to show favor over them, how the construction of such hovels exemplified the power and cunning of the Reyopans.

Although tribes such as the Erons as well as Xiantu maintained the old ways, those in Reyopa forged new pathways. Away from the piety of the Erons and far from the humble superstition of the Xiantu. The gem of the Ak-Wo, their technology remained far advanced from the others. Willing to share, yet rebuffed by their respective elders, the Reyopa maintained full control over their newer ways, while easily enacting military and technological dominance.

Becoming a beacon to the other clans, Reyopa swelled in size after the battles of long past and emerged as a reminder of the joint power the Ak-Wo could develop. Pooling resources here, the harvests of the Erons and the resources of the Xiantu, Reyopa welcomed all who walked towards its borders, embracing them with knowledge never before beheld, sights that their orbs never saw, and tastes their tongues and stomachs swooned over.

The culture of Reyopa, a myth to some, while exuding godhood to others continued to set them apart from other clans and lands. Here, they swelled in wealth and privilege, while the other clans remained in their state of development. Forgoing the new technologies of the Reyopans, forbidding the knowledge gleaned from this pristine city.

A shadow fell over Pligal as his orbs continued to absorb all of the areas. Now, his vision focused upon the garbs of these Reyopans. Unlike those told to Erons from oral traditions of the Xiantu, nearly garbless, only painting their scales, these Reyopans wrapped their scales to nearly cover all of their bodies. Only their heads remaining exposed, zes and seywaw, alike maintained this fashion. Within their garbs, brilliant colors radiated from the skins covering them.

Squinting hard, Pligal thought, "No. Not skins. This is something else."

Glancing at the sea of people passing by their cart, now detached from their Tulac and their driver, sitting free in a long line of carts varying in size, some covered, others clad in different designs and decorations, appearing regal in their formality, Pligal and his comrades sat exposed, naked. Within the wrappings, Pligal could see threaded material throughout the whole of their wrappings. Unlike the usual, single hide, material Pligal grew accustomed to, this binding seemed different from the hide. Pligal ruminated about this for many moments as the shadow lingered over him, a Reyopan stating something unfamiliar to him as he remained detached.

A light tapping upon the cart woke Pligal from his revelry, slight adjustments from the others in the cart caused the cart to teeter. Moans of those awoken earlier than anticipated erupted from Pligal's crew. Glancing at them before meeting the orbs of the one who rapt upon the cart, Pligal noticed, very closely, the image of a short, squat Ak-Wo.

Their scales remained impassive as they studied the lot. Wrapped in turquoise fabrics, emblazoned upon the right side of their face, a skull of their kind enveloped by the life entity Fulla, sat etched upon their face. Pligal understood their intent. Here, sat the emissary of Dorn. One called to guide him to the path of the Vior, the brilliant minds of the Legions, those touted to maintain knowledge of the gods, the brilliance of the most high, and cognitive prowess rivaling the Imperial Legate, herself. Pligal made to lift himself before the short one shuffled over to the massive Dorn.

Ignoring Pligal, they reached out towards Dorn's feet. Poking the pads slightly, Dorn adjusted before settling, once more. Squinting, the Reyopan reached inside their turquoise wrappings, they retrieved a thin, long, silver object before sliding it inside the pad of Dorn's foot.

A loud wail resounded from Dorn as onlookers stopped to witness the commotion. Moving quickly for his size, Dorn lifted his leg before shifting to is back in a defensive posture. The Reyopan watched carefully as he moved, waking the others with his wail and shifting of the cart, they ignored the others, their vision locked upon Dorn. After many moments, they shifted their face to expose their marking of the Vior as Dorn grasped what transpired. Motioning to him to follow, Pligal watched as the small one moved slowly, deliberately for him to catch up. Dorn met the eyes of Pligal before each other gave a knowing nod. Now in foreign lands, the two needed each other more than before.