Temples, why is it always a temple? Humans are so weird. At least it’s modest.

Sariah pulled harder on the bond walking closer to the lone statue standing as the center piece of the temple. All around her were glyphs written on walls with seemingly crude instruments and…. dulled metal orbs? Hmm, I wonder if the orbs are for aesthetics or do they serve a purpose? Stepping back to take a better look, Sariah noticed that there was a pattern to the metal orbs. They formed a square with sides that seemed to curve in a little bit towards the statue. No power radiated from the orb so Sariah decided to slowly approach the line and test for barriers or the taste of magic.

Sariah would have to uncover her hands to test for magic. A long purple padded glove flowed up to her elbow, tight and smooth around the shape of her arm. She managed to steal this beauty from a Watcher in her prison before exiting and redirecting The Way she escaped from. These gloves served to not only protect her arms from physical harm, but to dampen the effects of magical rebound that was often felt when fighting with a magical weapon. Not that any of the Watchers could bring magic around her, but they very well may have handled magical weapons on the other side.

She slid the gloves off her hands, exposing smooth light blue skin. Not skin of some noble, but skin held taut by solid, defined muscle. Thousands of years of battle have given her scars of course, but Sariah protected the hands and arms that wielded her weapons fiercely.

I suppose I’d rather take some force from a barrier than to walk into a trap and be stuck.

Sariah extended her hands with the palms facing directly forward and felt only the absolute smallest amount of magic…or magical pull?

Well, that’s different. It feels like something is trying to syphon magic out of whatever is in the square. Odd. I bet that the mages who set this up are trying to confuse would-be thieves with such an odd fixture. The real danger must be set into the center of the contraption. I better see what I can do about these metal spheres and try to dismantle them so that I can get a better feel for what’s going on here.

Pushing just a bit further, Sariah was determined to get a better taste for the spell work before her. She could feel nothing except for the tiniest tug towards the barrier no matter how much she pushed inside, but she wasn’t stupid.

“Hey boss lady. I’m full.” Srit lazily strolled in and sat next to Sariah.

“How many did you eat? Please leave the rest where they are by the way, I’d like to see what kind of shit I can stir up amongst their heroes.”

Srit just stared at her with a blank expression, a look of embarrassment to his face.

“You ate them all?! How the hell did you even fit all of that into your tiny belly?” chuckling at the look on Srit’s face as he somehow managed to look more embarrassed.

Defensively, Srit stood and spoke, “I…well…shut up! I didn’t’ eat ALL of them, just the best parts! I may look tiny, but I haven’t eaten Human in a long time. You don’t get to judge me, you’re just going to waste the flesh. It’s not my fault that you don’t need physical foods to survive! What are you doing in here anyway? It all looks very boring.”

“I’ve picked up a magic taste so tiny that it’s barely there. It seems to be pulling magic from anything inside of it towards those iron orbs for some reason. I’m trying to figure out how to disarm the orbs. I can see the piece of my armor I’m looking for, it’s right there” Sariah said, pointing to the statue in front of her.

Squinting his eyes towards where she pointed, he asked, “You mean to tell me that you were looking for a piece of your armor this whole time? You could’ve just told me that! I thought that we were looking for some grand magical thingy that would completely restore us to our former powers or something. What’s special about your armor? Can’t you just make some more? I don’t see anything there except for stone anyway. Wouldn’t your armor be dust by now? It was leather, wasn’t it?”

Sariah sounded sad when she replied, lost almost. “No, it’s not that simple Srit. It was never just armor. My armor was like skin to me. When I was…crafted? Created? Born? I woke with that armor on the first day of my sentience. Every piece of it connects to me deeper than a physical bond. My armor reacted to me, to my intent, my emotion and to things deep down that I didn’t know I desired. It adapted and slowed the transition from bloodlust to serenity. I’m not sure how many pieces they cut it into, but it would have had to have been contained. Each separate piece had a bit of consciousness to it with completely different motivations and abilities. This piece feels like a portion of the armor that covered my ribs. It was a single piece that wrapped around my back, slightly lower than my breasts in the front and sealed by two vertical lines at the spine and below the sternum. This piece feels…wrong, incomplete and…angry?”

“Wow, and you’ve been without it for 1500 of your years? I guess they really did mean to torture you. Maybe the orbs are there to prevent you from feeling the armor and finding it?” suggested Srit.

Sariah had to admit it was a good idea. “Maybe, this magic feels almost dead. Your Demon Gods may have been right about magic in this land. If it isn’t dead, it feels like it will be very soon. I still need to take time to make sure this is not a trap.”

“So, let me get on the same page. The magic is super weak?"

“Yes”

“You know your armor is right there?”

“Yes”

“As far as you can tell, it’s not a trap?”

“Yes”

“Is your armor vulnerable to fire?”

Laughing, Saraih replied, “How many times have you thrown fire at me for random reasons? Obviously, it’s not vulnerable to fire.”

Srit cracked his neck, pushed his hands out, putting his right hand behind the left and locking his thumbs behind the opposite hand. Before Sariah could protest, Srit braced his right foot behind him and shot an intense beam of fire into the statue, melting all the stone to slag…except for a semi translucent spherical piece of, whatever it was.

“I said the ARMOR was not vulnerable you jack ass! I am not WEARING the armor! You nearly lit me on fire!” screamed a now naked Sariah, standing behind a pillar.

“Oh shit, my bad. I got your armor out though! And nothing blew up in my face! Looks like you were right.” Srit said as he tossed the small piece of armor to Sariah.

Sariah stood nearly in tears at the sight of her armor. It was a small translucent square, pulsing with a faint energy. She placed the armor over her right rib and willed it to take shape and reconnect the bond that had been there since her…birth?

Slowly, very slowly, the armor formed, perfectly adhering to the right side of her rib cage, half way across her back to the spine and halfway across her front, directly below the sternum. It appeared that a gel made of blues, purples and light pinks were attempting to consume her flesh as it molded. Shortly after the lines were all formed, the armor took on a crystalline effect and appeared to harden. It felt like she had just regained a portion of her sanity.

“Thank you Srit. That was stupid and dangerous, but, thank you” She said with a genuine smile on her face. “Now, let’s go find more of these so that I can kill these damn humans and that jerk that locked me up.”

“Sounds good boss! By the way…” Srit said innocently while packing the orbs into his bag.

“Yeah?”

*Sizzle* “OWWWWWW” Sariah screamed as a miniature fireball hit her directly on the ass cheek.

“So glad you told me that you can burn” Srit said while dancing gleefully past her, middle finger pointed at her face and a huge smile on his.