ETTING 
OME 
O 
LFANDRA
Shyriath's Little Trip part 2
ETTING OME O LFANDRA
*The moon hangs just above the horizon, reflecting brightly off the water. The sea continues to lap gently against the shore, wearing away the sand in its age-old manner.*
*Shyriath's almost totally inert form is still lying on the beach in the same spot. Although he stopped weeping a while ago, he still cannot bring himself to stand up. Having been displaced in time by almost five thousand years in the past is not a nice experience, especially when there is no way to return. At least, none that he can think of... and he has been thinking for quite some time.*
*How will he get back? CAN he get back? Will he have to live and die here, never to see his wonderful daughters again? He'd even be happy to see ZILLIX wandering down the beach, that old bug.*
*It is at this point that he realizes something is approaching him. Considering the heavy thudding of its footsteps on the sand, a BIG something.*
*He turns over... and finds himself staring into a pair of cold, emotionless eyes.*
*The thing is huge. It resembles a machine, although Shyriath's practiced eye and mindsense can see that it is a living thing. It looks somewhat like a tiger or other great cat in general form, although it is nearly thirty feet long. Also, instead of fur or skin, it is instead covered by massive plates of some kind of natural armor. Sharp, wicked-looking spines extend from various points of the armor, adding to the already fearsome claws and teeth it possesses. The tip of its tail is barbed. From holes in the face-armor, the glowing red eyes stare back at the petrified little dragon.*
*Shyriath remembers a story about one of these things that his mother had told him. It is a Night Guardian, a living creature altered to guard the Sa'arunai'itai from attack by invaders, for their power had been greatly coveted by neighboring races. They are suspicious of the unfamiliar, skilled at hunting, bloodthirst, and, above all, VERY intelligent and crafty.*
*Shyriath wants to back away, to run, but he knows such a thing would be suicidal; the Guardian would chase him down within moments. Instead, he extends his mind-sense outward, quietly reaching into the Guardian's mind, subtlely leaving suggestions in its mind...* ~You cannot see it. The thing before you is not there.*
*The Guardian's eyes glaze over for a moment, then look with confusion at the spot where Shyriath had been. It whirls around, searching for him, trying to figure out how he'd disappeared...*
*Shyriath is walking away as fast as he can, while trying to be as quiet as he can. The Guardian's own mind is preventing it from seeing him, but the suggestion won't last forever. He needs to get as far away as-*
*SLASH*
*Shyriath is suddenly knocked down, and falls to the sand. He feels wetness pouring down his side, an accompanying pain... he feels his suggestion's power on the Guardian's mind slipping away.*
*Looking up, he can see the Guardian standing over him, grinning with delight. It opens and closes its nostrils, visibly demonstrating the action to its prey. Shyriath suddenly realizes his mistake... he had not commanded it not to notice him, but had only told it not to SEE him. Yet it still had a perfectly good sense of smell, and must've figured out roughly where he was from that...*
*Using the only weapon that springs to his thoughts, he roughly batters at the Guardian with his mind. Telekinetic blows rain down on its armor, pushing it back, but doing no real damage. Shyriath tries to scramble to his feet, to get himself into a more defensible position...*
*The Guardian suddenly leaps at Shyriath, managing to kock aside his attack with its own primitive mental shielding. It hurtles through the air, right at Shyriath, its leap taking it only a few feet off the ground, but far in distance. Shyriath raises his arms to protect himself...*
*The Guardian suddenly pushes its leg and foot downward. Its claws dig into the sand, brakings its movement with incredible speed. Before Shyriath even has a chance to react, it has ceased flying through the air, and has lowered itself to the ground. It immediately lanches itself at Shyriath's legs.*
*There is a sound of flesh being slashed, a cry of pain, and a THUMP as Shyriath falls to the ground, his good leg cut open to the bone, his bad leg little better than useless. Almost casually, the felinoid creature stomps its forepaws down on Shyriath's good arm, smashing it, and then sharpening its claws on his wings.*
*Shyriath is now unable to move, and is bleeding badly... the fact that his wounds have sand in them doesn't help in the least. He knows now what will happen; the creature will sit and watch him until dawn, enjoying the sight of its next meal before its natural feeding time. And once it sights the sun, and suddenly becomes hungry...*
*Shyriath doesn't want to die here. He CAN'T die here. His children need him. But he knows that there is no one in this time that can help him... in desperation, he takes what little energy he has left, and sends forth a powerful telepathic signal. His mind-powers are not as bounded by time or space as he, and he can only hope that the signal will be picked up. If he's lucky, a fellow Alfandran will happen to be traveling through other dimensions when the signal reaches them, for it will be easier to distinguish there than in physical space... if not, then perhaps someone there will have the instruments to pick it up.*
*Having done all he can, he lies in the sand again, hoping that the sun decides not to come up in the morning...*