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OUR TRAVELS
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                                                                  Sonitus; a glorious beckon of light, filled with the promise of fame and fortune like none other before it. Magic had transformed this Kingdom into an industrious vessel for those who were born into poverty to start anew. There were opportunities here-- jobs and professions in every corner. And yet, some still chose to go about the route of prosperity the deceitful way.

                                                                  His name was Alexander, and he traveled in a ban of three; they were to be considered armed and dangerous. These men did not discriminate against race, creed, or color. Nor did they care if you were a man, woman, or child. It was about the thrill of the chase on the way to the top. And they were on that way, with treasure stored up from every region of the planet.

                                                                  Yet, it was never enough. He always wanted to more. Alexander wanted to sit on a throne covered in glinting jewels, where there was a trail of the blood of his enemies than ran for miles. He was a wanted man, and his likeness was one known throughout the land.

                                                                  Honestly, the man had grown bored of this life. He wanted to slaughter every person who knew his face, and start a new. But he had already chosen a path. And it wasn't as if he could turn back the hands of time and chose another.

                                                                  Alexander was this man; a feared rival of every Kingdom where he set foot. He was skilled in sword fighting, hand to hand combat, and yes, the satisfaction of any woman-- married or single. He had forgotten his inhibitions many years ago. Manners were lost on him, as were kind gestures, and forgiveness.

                                                                  The three arrived late in the afternoon and found themselves in the Market Square of the illuminated city. And not too soon afterward, drinking outside of the tavern, their gaze cast upon the castle in the distance. The structure seemed to loom over the entire quarter and Alexander couldn't help but be reminded that he still wasn't a King. He still didn't have everything he wanted, and his enemies were growing by the second. If the tales were right, the ruler of this land possessed a great magic, one that he could use to make his wishes come to fruition.

                                                                  Silas and Phineus were both tired of running and wanted to spend the night in a fancy Inn, surrounded by a myriad of scantily clad women who had no respect for themselves. Alexander was not one to spoil the fun, so he agreed to their terms so long as they got started on a plan to rob the castle by sunrise tomorrow.

                                                                  Inside, the establishment was dimly lit with floating emerald colored lanterns. People were chatting around brilliantly hand crafted, stone chairs and tables, talking about all life had to offer. And he, quiet frankly, was sick of it. "What brings you here, stranger?" The female bartender asked as she approached him at the counter.

                                                                  Alexander wasn't sitting, but rather standing-- stuck somewhere between leaving and staying. He felt like at any moment the King's guard was going to come bursting in to arrest him.

                                                                  "I'm not interested..." The man replied, his bisque colored eyes on the archway that lead into the Square.

                                                                  "Are you waiting for someone? A wife, or a girlfriend?" There was a pout to her voice, one that made his discussion to leave much easier.

                                                                  "I'd rather slit my own throat." He rebutted at the mention of him possibly having a romance.

                                                                  It was then that a shadow darkened the doorway. He thought perhaps it was Silas or Phineus, come to warn him of impending doom. But what his eyes found was a short, bald man with who wobbled in with a canister of parchment in one hand. He looked like a herald of some sort, dressed in bright shades of green and tan.

                                                                  "You're not from around here, are you?"

                                                                  Oh for the love of the gods...

                                                                  "Listen, I'm not interested in your blather, if you would like to take off your top and show me your breast whilst you speak, then perhaps I'd be more inclined to listen. If not, shut up, and let me concentrate." He still hadn't looked at the woman, but he was quite sure he heard her mouth fall open. There was no sound which indicated that the b***h had removed her clothing and so he left the bar and moved toward the wall, where he found a wanted poster. Upon it, was his likeness. And he quickly torn it down with a frustrated hand.

                                                                  He exited the tavern soon after, stepping into the pleasant afternoon air, as it combed through strands of crimson colored hair. His eyes darted about, in search of the small man but he was no where to be found.

                                                                  "Um, excuse me sir." Came a small voice down by his ankles. The hem of his jacket was being tugged on vigorously.

                                                                  Alexander glanced down and saw a small boy with a ruby pouch in his hand. "No."

                                                                  The boy frowned. "I didn't even ask you yet."

                                                                  "The answer would still be no."

                                                                  "But--" Alexander reached down and took the pouch from him, seeing his frown turn to a smile with anticipation of receiving more coin to fill his pockets. "Thank you so much sir, we--" In that moment, the boy realized that this man was dumping all his coin onto the ground. "Hey! What are you doing!"

                                                                  Alexander blew his nose in the empty pouch, dropped it into the dirt, and stepped on it, before pushing the child out the way and proceeding with his wanting poster toward the closet ally. If Silas and Phineus didn't want to work tonight, that didn't mean he had to sit around waiting for them to be ready. He would rob the castle himself, and they simply would not be allowed to share in his spoils.

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                                                                          T
                                                                          he metallic clatter of several bowls echoed throughout the palace halls as the golden pieces were launched out of the throne room with great force after a male servant who was quite desperately fleeing in hopes of escaping the wrath of the man within. A deep infuriated voice assaulted the walls of the space as king Daemos gripped the ends of his seat. His brow furrowed with disgust as each syllable parted. ”I don’t give a damn what you do, get rid of him! If I so much as smell the sweat of his brow upon walking out onto my balcony I will behead him personally. And I can assure you, you’ll be quick to follow!” Moments passed and as it neared an hour anew, Daemos thrust himself off his throne and walked towards the ceiling high wall of glass that served as a window backdrop behind him and looked out over his glorious kingdom, Sonitus. But it was not the glimmering lights nor the magnificent structures that drew his attention but rather the single man that stood outside of the castle entrance shouting profanities and cursing his name. A poor man who hadn’t a penny to which he could call his own and a family that was suffering and in dire need. Still, the lack of sanity on behalf of the man and his persistence in publicly denouncing the ‘selfish’ and 'merciless' king had been enough to provoke Daemos’ wrath and he watched eagerly as a small group of knights encircled the lost soul and took hold of him. His screams were short lived and the king did not flinch as he was publicly, as well as abruptly, executed without warning. ”With every kingdom, there are those who choose to falter.”

                                                                          ”And there are those who choose to forgive….Daemos….”

                                                                          The king’s expression changed to one of surprise as the soft tone mingled with his harsh one. ”Belva… My dear to what do I owe the pleasure? I did not hear you enter.” He turned, his cape sliding across the marble floor as he faced his queen who now stood mere feet away from him, and closing in. ”Is a wife not meant to see where it is her husband spends his hours during the day alone? I was worried…. And then there was…. The man outside.” Daemos frowned with disapproval. He had not intended for his men’s actions to catch the eye of Belva and realized explaining as much wouldn’t be nearly as easy as he would have liked. ”He was a nuisance. A danger to the rest of us and nothing more. I’ll have his family notified and I can assure you the aftermath of his execution will be nonexistent by the time you next find yourself wandering out. Until then I’d prefer it if you stayed close by.” He neared her and placed a gentle hand on her cheek, kissing her forehead and glancing at the doorway behind her. ”It’s not the sight of death that frightens me. But the reason behind it. Daemos I wouldn’t dare question your actions. I think of you too highly to think any ill intent towards your name nor your title as king… as my husband. Forgive me however if I sound worried. This is not the first time this week that your temper has gotten the better of you and over such trivial matters… What is it that plagues your mind? Tell me so that I might help you.” She pleaded but her words fell on deaf ears. Daemos’ jaw tightened and the king ripped away from her before returning to his place by the window, now admiring Sonitus in all its beauty.

                                                                          ”You say as much and yet you directly contradict yourself with these matters in which you give reason to worry. I am a king, Belva. And as such I have every right to do as I wish with my subjects whether it be in their best interest….” He glanced back at her with a stern look. ”Or not. But that is for me to decide. Not you. I don’t expect you to understand as much as we both know you were not raised with the intention of taking full control over an entire kingdom alone. You are not plagued with the decisions I must face. You do not face an entire nation and are demanded to explain every action you take. And you do not hold the responsibility I must carry until my dying days. Be thankful. Belva’s brow, too, furrowed at this point and she took a step forward with a disposition that spoke of how offended she’d been towards the accusation that she could not comprehend what it was he had to go through nor the choices he had to make. ”And the death of innocents can be reasoned? Pointless assassinations. Fury driven executions…. You killed the duke of a neighboring kingdom not three days ago, Daemos there is no reasoning behind that! You’re short tempered, you’re quick to lash out, and there are times when even I fear what might happen should I upset you! Please, whatever this is, this senseless behavior that has encased you, tell me what I must do to rid of it! You’re frightening your people and you’re frightening me!”

                                                                          ”Then perhaps you should second guess your words of choice, my love, if I frighten you so! Do not tempt me! He hissed back and almost immediately regretted doing so as they both expressed a look of utter shock in reaction to what he’d said. ”Forgive me….. I am not myself. Do not take my words to heart Belva, you know I would never do you harm.” He quickly went to her side and tilted her head up towards his with his knuckle and ran a thumb across her jaw before gently pulling her into an embrace in which she did the same and wrapped her arms around the king. And although the action spoke of trust and affection, her expression did not cease to look fearful and somewhat worried for what her husband had become. Indeed, he was not himself. Not at all. And she could not help but allow her gaze to wander towards a door that remained locked on the left of the room with an accusatory glance. "No. No, forgive me. I did not intend to upset you."

                                                                          When Belva parted ways with Daemos she too found herself consumed by thoughts she thought best not to share with her spouse. She loved him dearly. But he had changed over the course of the two years they'd been married. She'd known that there would be things that she'd come to learn about him. But this.... This was not normal. She was aware that there were things he'd kept from her, more specifically the book he kept under lock and key in the room hidden within the throne room. And she was aware that it had properties that Daemos often spent hours during the day toying with. The strange and foreign language she heard coming from the other side of the door when he locked himself in that room was unknown to her the increase in his power..... He was becoming more violent. Irrational even. And she feared what the keepers book would do to her husband should he continue down the course that he was headed. He was not at all himself..... Not in the least. And unbeknownst to her king, she'd begun to plot a way to put an end to his tyrannical behavior. She'd heard whispers in the night amongst the servants and in the absence of Daemos during the hours in which he should have been asleep she knew he was in the company of that book yet again. He had intentions..... Plans for the future. And she would be damned if he threw all he'd worked for away and gave in to the darkness that was possessing him. It needed to come to an end before it was too late.



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                                                                  As Alexander stalked off, away from the Market Square; his long dark leather jacket waving in the wind behind him, as he continued to fume at his own likeness upon the parchment in his hand. Was there no place he could go and be free? No Kingdom that hadn't heard of his banditry?

                                                                  Perhaps, he had done too well. But it was too late to take it back now; to be more discrete in his acts of treachery. He was an outlaw, a wanted man. And the only way to fix that was magic. Sontius had plenty of it. The rumor that the King possessed Godlike power came on swift wings.

                                                                  King Daemos was the one man left standing after the war. The Book he keep in his castle was Alexander's ticket to freedom. The man needed a fresh start. A new beginning. And he could already taste it. If only he wasn't being kept from his destiny by the hands of the fools he continued to do business with, splitting his rewards with men who wasted their time bedding whore, drinking, and gambling in the quarter of any Kingdom that didn't attempt to arrest them upon their arrival.

                                                                  It was a surprise that the guards hadn't recognized them at the gate. Albeit, Alexander's hair had grown out of control over the past year. He hadn't time for grooming, or anything else that didn't propel him closer to the stars. There was a world that he wished to someday hold in the palm of his hand. And that couldn't be done if he was combing his hair, or wearing a shirt for that matter.

                                                                  It was strange, but the man often didn't bother with one. He simply wore his jacket, which had many silver buttons and tassels, brown trousers, and black boots. The necklace he wore was cause for curiosity by many; people wondered where he had received it. But he never told. He had his secrets.

                                                                  "Zander! Where are you off to now? One night! We asked for a one night! And you're off on a mission to storm the castle on your own?"

                                                                  Alexander knew the voice too well, even the footsteps were enough to make the man's skin crawl. "Silas, 'ave you not noticed that I'm not getting any younger? You may enjoy boobs and booze, but I am a man who wants more." He whirled around upon the dirt path and help up the poster to his comrade. "Who is this?" He pointed to his likeness on the page. "Tell me, brother. Who is this?"

                                                                  Silas swallowed hard, his eyes averting toward the empty wall of the tavern beside him in the ally they occupied. He did not respond. His companion's question was obviously rhetorical.

                                                                  "It's not you, it's not Phineus. It's me. My days are numbered...so excuse me if I want to 'asten process."

                                                                  "I know." He nodded. "You're afraid but,"

                                                                  "Afraid? I fear nothing." He hissed. "I want, I desire, like any other man. Now go back to your whores. I have ******** work to do." With that, Zander dropped the parchment into the sand, turned and started toward the trees. The caste wasn't far, perhaps a few hours walk with the city. And he needed that time to recompose himself.

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                                                                          I
                                                                          t may have seemed abrupt, foolish even, to leave the safety of her castle to do what was believed to be impossible. Many spoke in whispers when it came to tales of the keeper but it was those whispers she felt she must follow if she were to save her husband from what the book was turning him into. A tyrannous ruler with little regard to the lives of others. He hadn't always been this way. He'd been a king worth respecting, an honorable lord that served his people well. But the more time he spent in possession of the book he held so dear the more he proved that he was becoming the very thing that Sonitus did not need. She'd uncovered treacherous thoughts on his behalf. There within the room she'd been told never to enter were written depictions of plans to overtake the kingdom of the North. A peaceful nation that hadn't a quarrel with Sonitus for decades. Not far off from the details of how their army was to invade during the night did she discover several other illustrations describing the same fate for the kingdoms south of Sonitus, east, and west. An overall extermination of those of lesser defenses. It was clear that Daemos had truly crossed the line she'd feared he wouldn't. He was no longer the man she'd married. And because of the choices he'd made she found no other solution than to rid him of the one thing that enabled him to do as he wished without the consequences that should have accompanied them. She would not allow him to trample others and to reign over all purely out of power hungry lust to obtain that which was not his to claim. And so she'd done that which was thought to be taboo, if not a risk to her own life.

                                                                          Belva had been so bold as to steal away the book of the keeper that Daemos had so possessively locked away and replace it with that of an ordinary book spellbound to appear as if it were the book of howls. Her plan had been scheduled to take place not for several days time.... But upon witnessing that days execution she felt as if now was as good a time as any. After they had gone their separate ways, Belva had immediately gone to her room and commanded her servants to prepare her cloak, some coin for her journey, and a pouch for the book of howls. As soon as the tasks were complete she left the room with her replica and sought out the locked room. Daemos had left the throne room, as he often did, to oversee Sonitus from the tower above and no doubt continue with his deviations. In his absence she made haste in picking the lock, failing on numerous occasions before managing to break through and step inside, leaving the familiarity of the throne room and its light to be consumed by darkness. The room was illuminated by a hellish purple hue and ungodly sounds crept from a large black leather bound manuscript. The book of howls. Whispers and groans crept from the pages and the closer she got the louder they grew. Belva couldn't decide whether to pity them or look away in disgust. Surely, these were the souls of the damned. The lighting pulsed and it was revealed that the source was none other than a symbol that was etched on the books cover. Hesitantly Belva reached out to touch it but upon doing so a loud thunk was heard on the other side of the door and she realized that it was none other than the sound of Daemos approaching. With but mere seconds to spare she snatched the original and replaced it with her spell cast version and hid behind a large pillar just as he entered. Her husbands cold gaze shot around the room suspiciously, no doubt noticing the door had been unlocked, and thumbed through her replica slowly. This was the moment of truth. If he came to discover that the real book was stolen, she knew it would be the end of her if not worse.

                                                                          It felt as if hours had passed as he stood there peering down at the pedestal with the spine opened wide, exposing the pages contents. It was only when the sound of a servant calling for her king echoed through the throne room and consequently into this room as well that he bothered to look up with a grunt and leave the room. Seconds passed..... minutes.... another hour before she was able to pry herself away from the pillar with enough reassurance that he was gone to come out and return to her room. She wasted no time second guessing herself as she shoved the item of importance into her satchel and grabbed hold of the pouch of coins before then pulling the cloaks hood over her head. Belva did not bother with shoes, as she felt they were a trivial piece of clothing to spend time on and as much was thought about other clothing as it was known that the she as well as women from her kingdom did not shy away from revealing clothing as it was part of their culture. Something that even Daemos had no dispute. She could hear the sounds of the king as he went about scolding yet another one of his men for reasons lost to her as she descended the stairway. There was no easy way of escaping the castle walls unnoticed unless one knew which route to take. And Belva's route of choice was through the servant quarters. She was not stopped by the women as they scurried about but they were not oblivious to her presence. It had been well spoken of amongst them that such a time would come when she would be using their passage out of the castle and she'd given strict instruction to avoid prolonging her leave. She was then escorted by two men to the gate that surrounded her precious estate and with as much courage as she could muster, she departed.

                                                                          The streets were packed...... and it had been well over a months time since she'd bothered to wander the streets if at all. Belva was not so foolish as to draw attention to herself and kept her head low, her bag beneath her cloak, and her posture slouched so as to give the impression that she was none other than an older, humble figure seeking refuge in the alleyways. Once out of sight and well beyond earshot of those patrolling the castle grounds, she pressed her back to the stone alley wall and gave herself a moments breath whilst pulling her hood back just enough to expose her face and nothing more. She hadn't realized until now just how difficult it had been to steady her air intake when slipping out without notice. Her journey had begun. It was now that her bravery and endurance would be put to the test and only time would tell if her attempts were for not.

                                                                          Just as she was growing comfortable with her surroundings the sound of laughter and shouting could be heard just around the corner. A group of four children no taller than the average child of ten years came dashing past her followed by a man of wealth who cursed whilst shoving his way past her. The action alone was enough to cause her bag to fall to the grown, spewing its contents across the cobblestone beneath her feet. But the man did not stop. Belva hissed with annoyance and quickly got to her knees to collect her coins before swiftly scooping the book up and shuffling beneath her cloak to hide from prying eyes, if not to stifle the agonized sounds that called out from the pages within.



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                                                                  His legs were begging him for to rest. Yet he persisted, up the cobblestone path toward the castle, which glistened now in the moonlight so beautifully that he was having a difficult time keeping his eye on what was directly ahead of him. He could only imagine what wonders such a place held. And the magic that kept this city afloat seemed to seep from every corner.

                                                                  Alexander could feel it; being half elf, he was sensitive to such things. He could use potions and charms, but had never had the patience to truly start to practice the art of sorcery. It was dangerous, and could have lasting physical effects on the body. He had never met witch, wizard, or warlock whose true appearance wasn't hideous. Although he didn't care much for grooming, he did need a woman every once and a while for his bed to help him relieve stress. And the man was far too greedy to pay for one. Nor did he like to mingle. It was easier to allow his outward adorning do the talking for him. Had he been an ugly brute like Phineus, trying to find someone to lay with would have been much more time consuming.

                                                                  Alexander wasn't vein, but he wasn't foolish. Death was formidable foe, and he feared aging prematurely. Time was the only thing standing in his way, that and his reputation. It was easier to attack when the enemy didn't believe they had an adversary. The element of surprise was lost, when one's likeness was posted on every flat surface in the Kingdom. And his companions were running around the quarter as if they were free men. All the gold in the world couldn't fix this. He was wealthy, and successful; strong and powerful-- with nothing to show for it. Until today. Today was the start of something wonderful.

                                                                  Alexander stood just outside the gate of the castle, across the cobblestone road, just as the moon was reaching a helpful position in the sky. It was several hours from midnight yet, and he would need to wait until mostly everyone in the castle was asleep. In the pocket of his jacket, he carried many small viles of potions he spent time making before they entered Sontius. Most were sleeping potions; a special formula and signature of his kind. Elves were not a popular species anymore. Not after the word was spread of the way the King misused his power. Alexander could still smell the fire; he was still choking on the smoke. The death of this b*****d would be a gift to his people. And they wouldn't missed his Book. It would be in good hands. Luckily, Alexander's hair hid his imperfect ears. To most, he seemed normal.

                                                                  He hid himself behind a tree making note of the two guards that stood outside the door, and prepared to make his approach. Many moments passed-- lost opportunities-- when something peculiar caught his eye. Someone was moving on the left side of the gate, a cloaked figure, perhaps a messenger of some kind? He didn't want to lose focus. He hadn't walked all this way to be sidetracked by someone in an over-sized cloak. And yet, he couldn't take his eyes off the figure as it scurried down the hill and the city's ally.

                                                                  Alexander practically kicked himself, still fighting with his childlike curiosity. But instinct told him that he should have a look. It hopefully wouldn't foil his plans, and possibly could be of some help. Especially if the person could get him more easily inside the castle.

                                                                  So Alexander quickly abandoned his post and moved down the street into the city-- toward the ally. There were crowds of people on the path, and he didn't want to draw too much attention. It was obvious that he was an outsider.

                                                                  He spotted the navy cloak again and reached up to hood himself as they walked by. Someone moved on the opposite of the figure and bumped them. The contents of what they were carrying fell to the ground and immediately his lips turned to a wicked smile. They were carrying a book of some kind, and coin, many coins-- coins that belonged only to wealthiest in Sonitus. Perhaps it wasn't what he was looking for entirely, but he was still a thief. And he couldn't help what he liked.

                                                                  For now, the ally was quiet and he rushed forward smacking right into the cloaked man and shoved him backward, pinning him between his body and the wall. "Do not speak." Alexander warned as he reaching into his pocket and removed a glinting silver blade. He pulled back slightly and reached up cutting the string that tied the cloak.

                                                                  All of sudden he was dumbfound. "Breast?" Alexander frowned, noting the beautifully designed brassiere, and pale plump skin beneath it. She was practically naked. A prostitute perhaps for the King, who had done will to rob him most likely. "A whore of the King's no doubt." He seethed, reaching up and removing her hood. For a moment, as he looked upon her face, he felt something-- a twinge. "You 'ave just come from the castle and I wish to find myself in the presence of the King. You will take me there. Or I'll slit your throat, and let the sewer rats 'ave at this sinful body of yours."

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                                                                          T
                                                                          he sudden confrontation by this.... stranger... hadn't been expected. Not this early. Not when she'd just managed to leave the castle walls. Had she thought it were dangerous to merely step ten yards away from the comfort and luxury of her home she might have very well been more skeptical. But there was not much that could be done now. She choked back a cry as she was shoved up against the wall, finding the man's closeness of body revolting if not alarming. She abode by his demand that she would not speak but upon retrieving his knife and cutting the ties of her cloak she found this increasingly difficult. The way his eyes scanned her earned him a scowl and upon hearing the word whore she grew increasingly agitated. The knife pointed her way did little to persuade her as he announced his second request to which she'd felt she'd had enough by then. A sarcastic grin slid across her lips and she looked at him with a mockingly sweet expression before opening her mouth to speak. "Why.... my dear." She chimed before abruptly spitting in his face. Her pleasant expression gone, she glared at him with a hiss in her tone.

                                                                          "Go to hell. If it's the king's presence you want, it's the queen's that will have to suffice. Or as you so delicately put it, the king's whore." As mad as it might have seemed to confess that she was that of royalty, she knew all to well that in some cases it would be the very thing that could keep you alive. This man was a thug as far as she was concerned. And nothing more. Returning to the palace was without a doubt no longer an option as it was only a matter of time before her husband discovered that his book was a fraud and the the real Book of Howls had been stolen as well as the fact that his wife was absent. If she were to be caught with it, she'd face his wrath. However....... If this man were to so foolishly have her lead him inside she could claim that she hostage. And if he took her for ransom? She'd tell Daemos it was this man that stole the book, not her. She would be returned to the safety of the castle and after receiving payment the man would be captured and undoubtedly executed for his crimes. Daemos had killed for much less. This was without question something he'd use to add to the body count.

                                                                          "You're a fool if you think tricking your way into the castle will get you anywhere. And with Daemos current state of mind you'd be half mad to expect you'd get out alive. Let alone that I would for helping you to do so to begin with. So tell me, since you are apparently a master of the bargain, what makes you think that I would trade one form of death for another? Who the hell do you think you are that you are so important that you might earn an audience with the king in such a fashion?" Her words were stern and harsh and though her hands shook whilst clutching the book, she did all she could to maintain her brave disposition. She would not give way to this man's demands. "Now leave me be. Take my coin if it pleases you so but otherwise go on your way so that I may do as much less you not have an ounce of sense." She was walking on thin ice, threatening a man with a knife but she felt she had nothing to lose. If worse came to worse, she would die and the book would be lost to this man and more likely than not some street merchant who thought it to be a rare collectible. Sonitus would be lost but her husbands plans would be well delayed until he could recover his trinket and the souls within.



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                                                                  Oh for the love of God, when would she stop talking. This was not the behavior he expected, but it was indeed the kind he received. It wasn't the first time someone had spit in his face, but she was a woman! Certainly, she knew better than to tempt the hand of a man. And yet, she was and continued, and never stopped.

                                                                  He was tired of this. The man was losing his edge, making alliances with men like Silas and Phineus. In addition, her comment about being the Queen phased him not. Mostly because he didn't believe her. A whore would say anything to get out a situation such as this one.

                                                                  Unfortunately, her blind bravery didn't spark anything within him, other than pure and utter disgust. He wanted to rip this woman limb from limb and drag her body in pieces to the forest where he would watch the coyotes feast upon her flesh. However, that would take time he did not have. So a slow and painful death was surely out of the question.

                                                                  He reached up and wiped her spit from his chin, rolling his cobalt colored eyes with obvious disinterest in her threats. "I'll tell you this," Alexander whispered, gazing down at her menacingly. "You will pay for your blatant disrespect. You are no Queen. If you think I'm dumb enough to fall for that, you're mistaken."

                                                                  He was looking into her eyes now, trying to see if he could break her, but doubted that was the case. She had nothing to live for, she was a prostitute after all. Women in such professions had no respect for themselves. And he was likely doing her a favor in granting her a swift death. "And your coin does not please me." Alexander's eyes trailed from her face to her neck, beyond her collarbone and breast until he discovered something. He was suddenly very curious about the book that had fallen when the man bumped into her earlier.

                                                                  "Unless the money you possess can buy me my freedom, then I suggest you 'old your tongue." It was then that his warm hand slipped between her cool body and a leather bound black book. He removed it, still using his other hand to keep her at bay-- the blade still pointed at her throat.

                                                                  Alexander's eyes grew wide as his ears filled with the cries of many innocent souls, they moaned and howled, and he immediately felt over whelmed with a suddenness like he had never felt before. He wished to hold onto it a bit longer, but he simply could not. The screaming was too loud, and the feeling was too strong.

                                                                  Instead, he allowed it to fall into the dirt at their side, as his eyes found hers once again. His gaze was confused, as all the anger had drained from it. For some reason now, he felt more convinced of her tale. "Where are you taking the Book? And this time, avoid spitting in my face, love. I showed restraint once. I will not show it again." This was to be another empty promise, because it was likely one he would break.

                                                                  Suddenly this woman was worth much more to him alive than dead, especially if she had the wherewithal to steal from the King-- or be trusted with his most prized possession.

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                                                                          T
                                                                          he man seemed undeterred by her words, nor did he believe that she was a queen. Belva could only do so much to avoid his gaze as he loomed over her with unforgiving eyes. But if it had been forgiveness she'd wanted, she wouldn't have spoken to him as she had. Still, she would not allow this man to give her cause to falter. She had only just left her home and to be killed so soon without so much as making it halfway through her journey would be considered shameful. And she refused to be made a mockery. She watched with a furrowed brow as the thug rejected her coin and a sense of confusion befell her. If he did not want her money..... And she'd refused to take him inside of the castle..... Then what did he want? She returned to glaring at the man as he went on to suggest that she spare him any further spoken word and watched him carefully. Freedom? So he was a wanted man. That came of no surprise to her, however she did not recognize his features. Then again she wasn't the sort to bother with outlaws nor with her kingdom's guard patrol, the ones responsible for setting up rewards for those who broke the law in Sonitus. Just then the man reached out towards her and she grew furious with the thought that he would have the audacity to lay a hand on her but was put off even more so as she was soon to discover it was not her his interest was in, but rather the book. A shocked and wide eyed expression took hold and she leaned forward in hopes of snatching the book and returning it into her possession but it was for not as she felt the tip of his cool, silver blade p***k at her throat. She shook her head slowly, preparing to plead that he do the object no harm but it seemed as if the spirits trapped within the delicately bound pages had their own way of doing things. She could sense their tone quickening and an eagerness about them sent a chill up her spine.

                                                                          "Please...... Don't....." She was able to croak as the cries grew louder. It was enough to cause the man to drop the book and she gasped as it hit the ground, desperately pining for it so that it would not be damaged. "Have you no sense! That book is well aged. It would be best not to carelessly toss it about." She hissed. But he paid no mind to her offended remarks, but instead inquired with an interest anew. Her anger evaporated and once again she found herself grappling for some form of an excuse. ".....I....." He'd know if she lied. She'd never been well off in the art of deception and it did not help that her look of panic only served to expose her intentions even more so. She deeply regretted not bringing a blade of her own. Had she been accustomed to doing so she might have been able to slip it twixt the space occupying either side of his shoulders and directly into his cold, calloused heart. "It's none of your concern where I'm taking it nor with what I wish to do with it. That knowledge is mine and mine alone." She scowled but her attention was soon dragged elsewhere. The familiar clank of metal grinding together rang out as two heavily armed guards began marching down the street at one end of the alley. As soon as she was able to make out the Sonitus seal adorning the sides of their helmets she dropped all attempts to act brave. Her absence must have been noted after all..... "I wish to take the book back to which it came. To rid of it for good. Now if you have any understanding or thought at all, pray you let me leave!" She swatted his hand bearing the knife aggressively, grazing her neck with its tip and dipped down to grab the book of howls.

                                                                          Belva hadn't time to waste. Without even as much as the cover of her cloak to hide her from view she was very well susceptible to being recognized and dragged back into Daemos company. Had he not discovered her treason, he would when she was brought to him with the book in hand. Belva scurried down the other end of the alley without so much as considering the possibility that the thief would follow. If he was wanted as he implied there was no doubt in her mind that he would flee as well if he wished to keep his, with as little as it was, freedom. Upon dispersing out the other end she bumped into several men and women to which she was regarded with a mixture of looks varying from disgust, offense, or even curiosity. She needed to leave. She needed to part ways from Sonitus if she was to have the slightest chance in succeeding. Just then she turned to be faced with one of Daemos' most trusted men and a man she'd grown to call a friend. "Belva????" He stammered as he was clearly shocked to see her. But not nearly as shocked as he was once her fist came slamming into the side of his temple, knocking him out cold. Belva whined and rubbed her knuckles gingerly, kissing them as if to ease the pain before frantically looking up at the fearful gaze of the men and women around her as they avoided getting to close and swarmed away from the area and up the road, leaving her to recollect herself before attempting to flee the scene.



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                                                                  Stupid b***h! He mocked her unknowingly, as she smacked his armed hand out of the way, by spitting on the ground where she once stood. She was obviously aware of the dishonesty in his treats to kill her. But he could get what he wanted without slitting her pretty little throat. He merely needed to be more aggressive. It was vital for him to assert himself, by showing the 'so called Queen' that he meant business. And if such signified chasing her through the entire quarter, then so be it.

                                                                  Still, he would have given his life's savings for a thinner crowd. For as soon as he turned to peruse her, she was already bobbing and weaving through hordes of people. Her need to preserve her life was pushing his need to restrain himself. And he merely wanted to kill her and find a way to carry the Book himself.

                                                                  There was no mistaking that power. Certainly she was be slain by worse and have it fall into the hands of someone undeserving. It was better off with him. So what if he wasn't the most upstanding citizen? This woman was foolishly leaving way for such magic to fall into the hands of evil. Why she wanted to return it, was beyond him-- or whom she would return it to, but rumor of the King's temper and cruel ways had traveled. Some so terrible, that mercenaries, bandits, and thieves had been hired by other Kingdoms in an attempt to assassinate the man, however none were ever successful.

                                                                  Perhaps she was the Queen. It was far-fetched, and likely hard to prove, but the Book was there. Wasn't that proof enough? She had done all the work for him. He had no need to go stomping into the castle now. And as he walked menacingly after her, Alexander couldn't help the crooked smile that appeared upon his shadowed face-- still wearing the hood of his jacket, as he moved through the streets.

                                                                  The man could see the sea of townspeople parting as she scurried along. Yet, he kept his distance, and followed silently. If someone stopped and asked if she was in danger, he didn't want to be too close by.

                                                                  It was then, that one of the King's Guard seemed to notice her. Alexander's smug expression faded, as fear crept into his mind. If she was returned to the castle with the Book in hand, it would likely mean that the King would strengthen his security ten fold. He could not let that happened; pushing forward he moved to preserve his freedom, when he saw the woman's fist reached up and strike the man down.

                                                                  "That's going to leave a bruise." Alexander mused softly, slightly entertained by this woman's fight. It was always nice to break a person who would normally refused to give up. He could smell a victory, as she had just laid waste to the last thing that would keep him from taking her for his own, and everything she possessed.

                                                                  She had yet to meet his comrades, they would be quite fond of her, he was sure of it. And speak of the devil, there they were. Both men not nearly as merry as he would have expected. They had likely left their booze and women to make sure he hadn't gone on a suicide mission.

                                                                  Upon lifting their eyes, as they came down the road, they saw him and he pointed toward the shop where the Princess was resting. No doubt trying to catch her breath and regroup. Silas and Phinues spotted the woman, her pale skin glowing eerily beneath the moonlight. In that instant they exchanged glances and crossed the street moving in time with one another as they came down upon her, giving Alexander a change to break into a run and catch up.

                                                                  He approached with hellish eyes, ones that held demons and darkness that this innocent woman couldn't begin to comprehend. Silas was already moving forward his hand reaching for the material that ran from the center of her brasserie. His eyes were lustful, and it was obvious that he cared not about his companions intent for the woman. He had his own intentions, so to speak.

                                                                  "Enough!" Alexander growled, ripping the man's hand away from the woman. Her purity, was important. It was the reason why she could handle the Book; it was the only one he could think of, at least. Until proven other wise, he didn't need Silas putting his mitts all over her.

                                                                  However, he needed this woman to be afraid. And he could always count on Phineus to be the voice of reason. Alexander's knife was still in his hand and he raised it to plunge into her abdomen when the gentle giant spoke. "Why are we killing this stranger?"

                                                                  He paused his hand only a hair from her bare stomach, and growled. "She spit in my face."

                                                                  Phineus eyed the woman sadly, as Alexander straightened himself up and put his knife back into pocket. "Nevertheless, she could be of use to us."

                                                                  Silas was still eyeing the woman curiously. "Rumors of this beauty have traveled. This woman is the Queen, Belva. Why is she outside the castle?" He asked, although his gaze found all but her face.

                                                                  "She is in possession of the very Book we set out to steal." Alexander responded matter of factually. He reached down and snatched the bag from her almost violently, tossing it to the ground, upon the dirt. "Pick it up Phineus." The man growled.

                                                                  Alexander then lifted his two firm, strong hands and grabbed the Queen by the waist. With one smooth toss, she was up over his body; the weight of her torso upon the crease between his neck and shoulder. "Let's go." Alexander groaned moving into the dark of the ally toward the woods. "Your 'ighness, you should cut down on the pastries. You aren't exactly light as feather." His men chuckled.

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                                                                          T
                                                                          his was getting out of hand. She should have been well on her way by now and yet she'd already run into several delays. Her breathe came out haggard and for a moment she felt as if the adrenaline might cause her to wilt. However she was able to keep it together. Subconsciously, the queen reached down and patted the fur satchel that caressed the book within. As she was about to reach down and retrieve it she heard the low pattern of footsteps approaching and her body went stiff as something lightly brushed the fabric that ran down her back. Whipping around she found herself faced with the man from before and two brutes, one of which had his hand outstretched towards her before it was pulled away by the red haired one and a sting of fear shot through her as she came to realize how close they had gotten without her knowledge up until the last moment. Belva stumbled back and clutched her bag to her chest. As the men closed in she inhaled sharply, her back now against the side of a building as the first man raised his blade and began to bring it down towards her in a swift motion. Belva flinched but just as she had been expecting the man to put an end to her, the large of the three spoke up. She stared down, her body trembling as Alexander answered and she turned to the one who'd saved her if for a moment. His eyes were filled with sympathy but she had little doubt that it would be enough to convince the other from carrying out his intentions at a later time. He'd made it clear he wasn't about to simply let her walk away.

                                                                          When the blond intervened and confirmed that she was the queen, she was able to steady herself somewhat, despite his intrusive gaze to which she clutched the bag against her more firmly if not to merely shield herself from his prying eyes. Yes, she was a queen. And as such she would not give in to these men so easily. "I've offered you everything of worth, and yet here you are. What, pray tell, do you want?" Her words came out in a stammer and her tone was strong..... but frightened nonetheless. These were no simple thieves. Had they been after her gold he would have taken it when it'd been offered. And while the blond seemed to have his own desires it apparently did not correspond with their leaders wishes. Instead he'd asked about- "The book?" Alexander ripped the bag out of her hands causing her to jump out for it only to back away as she had no intention of getting any closer to these men. Phineus, the large man, was ordered to pick up the bag. "That's what you're after? The book? But why? You have no use for it, what makes you think- But she was cut short as the red haired man closed in on her. She pressed herself against the wall yet again, praying that by some miracle that she might be able to phase right through it and avoid whatever it was he had in store. Sadly, it was for not and she shrieked as he grabbed her by the waist and flung her over his shoulder. She thrashed wildly as she beat away at his back, clawing at his neck and kicking as best she could so that she might free herself. At the mention of her weight however her eyes lit with fire and she grabbed a handful of his hair and yanked it back. "And you, a trim! The whores in the streets envy your mane as well as your womanly figure!" She spat when something of peculiarity caught her eye. "And elf?" She said allowed in disbelief and reluctantly let go of his hair.

                                                                          She hadn't seen an elf for as long as she could remember. The last time one had happened into Sonitus it had ended in a swift execution by Daemos hand as it was in most cases when something displeased him. She'd never fully understood why he'd held such a strong anger against the race but she knew it must have been something he took personally. It was only a matter of irony that she fall into the hands of one now. "Not much of a good representation of your kind, are you?" She hissed and continued her relentless thrashing. She placed her hands on either side of the shoulder she was supported on and pushed against it in an attempt to break free of his grip but to no avail. "Where are you taking me?!?!?!? GIVE ME THE DAMNED BOOK!" She was furious but it was all the better to get her mind working. An idea came to mind. It was built in haste, but it was her only chance. Belva abruptly stopped shouting and stilled all motion before throwing her weight forward just enough that she might bend of the back of him and she tried to quickly, yet carefully, balance herself with one hand while shoving the other into the pocket with the knife. Once she felt the cool metal in her grip she yanked it out and brought her fist up over her head before swinging it down as she'd seen him do, aiming for the area on his side where his ribs were.



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                                                                  This woman had fire in her, and the fight of a champion. Unfortunately, she would not be victorious. Alexander had spent his entire life looking for something as powerful as the magic the King of Sonitus possessed. Word of his strength was still spoken about with boisterous noise, several year after he had won and taken the throne.

                                                                  The King before him, had no sons, and consider Daemos to be the closest thing to a child as he could ever have. Only six month after the war, the man found himself on his death bed and passed the torch to the young warrior; the only man on either side of the battlefield left standing. He knew what it was like to strike fear into the hearts of his enemies with his mere presence, and Alexander wanted such glory for himself.

                                                                  Certainly, if he was the most powerful man the world had ever seen he shouldn't have taken a wife. He could have had any woman on the planet. Daemos could have had it all. But instead he chose this heavy, loud, half-dressed whore to be his bride. Preposterous! He was becoming weak as the years passed. Women were only good for one thing. And it wasn't marriage.

                                                                  Alexander couldn't help but groan out loud as Belva grabbed a handful of his hair. The tugging didn't hurt, but it was annoying and her constant blathering and flailing about was making him want to plunge a knife into his own abdomen. He had no patience. Years of killing, and stealing, and claiming whatever he wanted had wore him thin. Alexander also wouldn't waste his time asking her to be quiet either. As he was sure that would do no good.

                                                                  Despite the moon high in the sky, the trees above created a canopy that block out much of the moonlight. And both Silas and Phineus moved ahead to find a path; it was important they left the city as quickly as possible. And their horses were just outside the wall that surrounded the Kingdom. Still, Alexander did not fret. He had two of the most important things in the world to Daemos, he wouldn't make a hasty move unless he was absolutely sure it was worth it. He could only hope the man wouldn't notice his wife was gone until the sun rose the next morning. That would give him a good enough head start.

                                                                  He cringed when she spoke of his toned, fit, perfect body with such disrespect-- and addressed 'his kind' as if she knew anything about being different. Her husband had been in alliance with the one's that almost caused the extinction of the elves. He spread his hate like a disease. But Alexander didn't want to let his anger get the best of him. "So you envy me then? Because I just plucked you from the street. You were probably looking for a man on the corner who would actually want you in their bed. Surely, the King has concubines with 'ealthier figures then yours, and rejects your company 'abitually. And you know what they say, if it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck..." His tone was gravel, as he tried to keep himself from break her in half and ruining his life long mission.

                                                                  "It is no matter where we are taking you. At least you're alive." Suddenly he felt something. His right pocket was much lighter now. The knife! He growled loudly, as the cool blade pierced the leather of his jacket and ran deep into his skin. She had stabbed him? Alexander lifted the b***h and threw her to ground, descending upon her like flies.

                                                                  He ripped the blade from her hand as his men double-back and ran for them to keep their companion from doing something he would regret. Alexander was wreathing in pain, he could feel the blood oozing from his wound, tickling toward the rim of his trousers. Silas pulled him back and Phineus moved for the Queen.

                                                                  "What happened? Are you alright?"

                                                                  Alexander practically tore his jacket from his flesh and turned to let the man see. Silas' eyes grew wide, then he sighed. "You need a doctor."

                                                                  "No! We continue with the plan. We get to the 'orses."

                                                                  "That will get infected and you'll die."

                                                                  Alexander was beside himself.

                                                                  "There is a lower region in Sonitus, a place of poverty. They are no friends of the King. We can get you the attention you need."

                                                                  He reached down and stanched up his jacket with a scream. "I'LL GRIND HER BONES TO MAKE MY BREAD IF YOU TWO DON'T KEEP THAT DEMON THE HELL AWAY FROM ME!" He couldn't even look at her. Instead, he lead the way, limping slightly from the pain.

                                                                  Phineus looked on, before slyly handing the Queen back her bag when she was ready. "Come..." He urged her.

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                                                                          B
                                                                          elva paid little mind to the man’s remarks. As far as she was concerned he could say what he liked about her marriage and Daemos in general. He did not know her, nor did he have any idea what their relationship was like. She loved him, and he her. But despite this there was a sensation that was aching up the back of her neck and creeping into her thoughts. She loved him….. And yet she feared that upon discovering that she had stolen the book, he may consider ending her life. He’d changed so much….. But he’d been adamant in making sure that she knew he would never do her harm. But such words…. They always came after a dispute over his actions which more often than not were accompanied by mild threats sent her way. He’d never acted out on them before. But now after she’d done this, could she honestly say it would not try his patience as well as his love for her? It was frustrating to think about. And the only comfort she found was in using Alexander as an outlet. She twisted the knife as she began to pull it out and looked down at it clutched in her fist, pleased with the blood that was slipping down her fingertips and across her wrist. His snarl of pain echoed across the way and she smiled in triumph as she felt that this had been a small victory on her part. But the man was a beast all on his own and her celebration was short lived.

                                                                          Belva gasped as she was thrown off of the man causing the back of her head to hit the path with a sickening crack. She clutched the sides of her face to steady her blurred vision and was able to concentrate it in time to see the red haired elf flying towards her like a bat out of hell. She held the knife in front of her in hopes of providing some sort of protection and defend herself against the crazed man’s wrath but it was for not. Without so much as an ounce of effort he ripped the blade from her hand and she watched as he hovered over her, dangerously close. She crossed her arms in front of her so that they might take the majority of whatever it was he planned to do to her and let out a cry as she anticipated the pain to come. It was then that his two men came to their aid and she watched as the blond tore the red haired man away and pulled him back at a safe distance, all the while she felt the gentle grip of Phineus as he too came to see that nothing broke out between them and pulled her out of Alexander’s reach. Upon inquiring of him as to what had happened, the man turned, removing his jacket aggressively and exposing the wound. By the look and sound of it, it would appear as if she’d done a decent amount of damage and this was only verified as the blond stated that he would need a doctor. The stubborn man rejected the suggestion but the blond spoke again and clarified that without medical assistance, he would die. Belva wouldn’t deny that this option sounded rather appealing as she wanted nothing more than to leave the men behind and go on her way… alone.

                                                                          She did not know these men and the only one she’d managed to feel somewhat safe around, if that was at all possible, was Phineus. He was gentle when handling her and showed sympathy even though it no doubt would do him no good with his companions whose names she still had yet to learn. Looking up at the man now, she shook violently with a horrified expression, clearly still shocked by Alexander’s attack. "Thank you." She muttered with a shuttered breath to which he gave a quick nod. The two of them however were drawn back to the other men as they began to discuss the possibility of journeying to a less fortunate side of Sonitus. A place that, if it could be called even that much, sounded suspicious. Seedy even. But whatever the atmosphere it would appear as if there was a silent agreement amongst them that this was where they would head towards. Shortly after Alexander regarded the lot with a raised tone and demanded that she be kept away from him from now on. However she would not be frightened any further by this man and held her ground.... until he began to pass by in an attempt to lead the way. Belva slunk back behind Phineus so as to avoid getting to close to the infuriated figure, not wanting to try his patience any further. She was well aware she was standing on dangerous grounds with the man. Just then, a light nudge alerted her to the fact that Phineus was attempting to hand her something. Looking down she came face to face with the fur satchel that held the Book of Howls, Phineus cautiously offering it to her. She gently received it and held it close before looking up at the man in time to hear him urge her onward and with a nod, she did as she was told. She did not want to draw attention to them should his decision to give the book to her cause ill harm to be sent his way. He'd managed to treat her kindly. This was the least she could do in return.

                                                                          The blond hadn't lied when he spoke of the lower region of Sonitus and that much was apparent as they approached the outskirts of the area. They received numerous looks either wishing them ill harm, desiring for their belongings, or looking towards them with lustful glances. Shady figures were strewn about and Belva found herself closing the space between her and the three men and for what seemed like the first time since they'd met, remaining silent. The poor in this area had made it clear in the atmosphere as well as their attire that they would do anything and everything to make a simple coin as was proven when an older male figure slunk up beside Silas and attempted to reach into his pocket only to be fended off by Phineus as the man unsheathed a blade. Whatever magic and good fortune Sonitus held, it had neglected to reach this far..... "Where are we?" She whispered almost unintelligibly and looked around with wide eyes filled with fear. She was appalled. She was queen.... How could she have allowed even this much of Sonitus to be plagued with crime and poverty as this place was now..... And in her paranoia of losing what possessions she had with her, she tightened her arms around the bag, her gaze darting around frantically as some skittered dangerously close to them.



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                                                                  Silas was foolish to think these people had the heart to help anyone; they were so broken and weary, they likely wanted nothing more than to exact their troubled thoughts upon trespassers. Yes, Sonitus was a place of wealth and prosperity, but they were not unlike other Kingdoms. For some to be rich, others had to be poor.

                                                                  These people were some of the hardest working in the land-- many farmers who received pennies for crops they spent all year harvesting. The reason the King had anything to eat was because of the work these peasants did so diligently, and yet he was not moved to reward them. It was no surprise, and unfortunate, but Alexander had more important things to worry about, such as the wound in his back.

                                                                  He was angry with himself for allowing the witch to get the best of him. Perhaps he had been too bold in thinking so poorly of her. Maybe this woman was more clever than he was lead to believe. Was that not clear? She had the book after all, and had managed to steal it from her husband. But that seemed like stupidity on his part, not hers, for trusting anyone enough to marry.

                                                                  Alexander hissed like a snake at his own thoughts and put his jacket back on to cover his shame. It was sickening that he had almost died at the hands of a woman. "We shouldn't 'ave come 'ere." He growled softly at Silas, who rolled his eyes and moved forward into the dirt streets. There was no cobblestone here, or pavement. What ran through the cottages and farmland was merely sand, straw, and ash. It was a dejected scene. People were outside in the streets with tin cans and buckets asking for money as they passed by.

                                                                  Alexander could see many of the men, and some of the merchants who came to sell down here, eyeing Belva, as she wasn't exactly dressed decently. He continued on ahead, until a man stopped him. He reached out and grabbed his hand. Alexander was forced to stop, wincing in pain as the elderly man attached to his arm looked at him with hallow eyes. His gray hair was long and greasy, his clothing was tattered and his teeth rotting. But for some reason, the elf could not look away.

                                                                  "Sir please, let him go. Is there a Doctor in these parts?" Silas moaned reaching out to push the elderly man from Alexander, but he reached out swiftly and pushed the blond away.

                                                                  "I see..." He whispered softly. "A dark past..."

                                                                  Alexander averted his gaze and cleared his throat. "Listen old man," He started, trying to remain tough, despite his injury.

                                                                  "But...there are many paths to the future..." The man continued. "There can be light at the end of your tunnel. I am sure of it. Free them, and save us." Suddenly he released Alexander and the look of emptiness in his eyes fled him. He looked confused for a moment, before he apologized, "I'm sorry."

                                                                  Alexander swallowed, realizing a lump had grown in his throat. Both he and the elder looked at one another until Silas clapped a hand on his shoulder and pushed him along. "You don't have time to converse with your long lost cousin, Zander. You're bleeding to death."

                                                                  The man rolled his eyes, snapping out of his stupor and pushed his companion out of the way. "Don't [******** touch me."

                                                                  "Yes, mom." Silas replied moving ahead. He found a woman by a stone well, which lay in the center of the circular Square they had entered, where many people were pulling horses to and fro. "We are looking for a doctor."

                                                                  She was beneath a burlap hood, and lifted her eyes to look at the man. And immediately Alexander groaned. He knew that look. The woman was smitten. Her face was covered in soot, but Silas likely wouldn't care. "I can help. Is someone wounded?"

                                                                  He nodded. "Yes, my brother."

                                                                  "This way." She waved them on, taking up the bucket of water she had and lead them toward an ally. It was dark and not lit like the streets. There seemed to be smaller homes back here, not constructed of stone but hay and straw.

                                                                  "She brought us back 'ere to kill us and eat us." Alexander muttered.

                                                                  "Could you find it in that empty chest of yours to be a bit more conscious of the stupid s**t that comes out of your mouth!"

                                                                  "If I live, I'm going to kill you. And 'er," He glanced back at Phineus and Belva. It seemed he had returned her bag. The voices must have been too much for him.

                                                                  The woman pushed open a door and they were blinded by bright light at first. The group entered what seemed to be an infirmary. People were bleeding, sick-- skin and bones. Alexander tried not to look on in sadness, but the human side of him took over for a moment. Blankets and straw were scattered throughout the hut and women were moving about, delivering water and medicine to those in need. "Take him to the back." She said removing her hood-- revealing jet black hair and sparkling emerald eyes. Silas looked her over briefly and nodded.

                                                                  "She's a whore." Alexander warned his partner.

                                                                  "You're a whore. Now come and sit down." Silas coaxed him to the back, where he removed his jacket and awaited medical attention-- resting against the cottage walls for support.

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