Tales of the Betrothed (closed)

[SheIsCursedTea]

Elya || Meister
|| Royal Guard to the Princes of Dradecυѕ ||

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Reriic had said nothing, so Elya tilted her head up to look at him, and flinched. He was mad, and though possibly not completely with her, it was there. A great deal of thoughts drifted through her head. ”If I hadn‘t have gone towards the house, presuming Cin would be safe, I would have been closer to him, and hence able to stop the guy before they vanished … but if I hadn‘t ran to the house who would have helped Sonya and the baby out? Reriic? Then he might have been injured …” She was so wrapped in her thoughts that she almost missed Reriic speak. ”Don‘t get lost.” Her head shot up to stare at Reriic‘s retreating back for a moment, before following quickly without giving anyone else a second glance.

---

She followed him in silence, vowing to make it up to both Cin and Reriic in anyway she could, and to train harder in her free time and work harder to be a better guard for them. It was the least she could do. She had been given this honour by the King. She would not waste it. At Reriic's cursing she looked up and her stomach sank a little. Before them lay the maze they had entered through to enter Laelie in the first place. With it‘s thick fog and the ability to get lost so easily by just straying a little too far away from one another. Elya stuck close to Reriic as he dragged Cin‘s sword through the ground to leave a trail back to the exit, but hung back, beside the sword, as Reriic shouted to the faeries. This was evidently the right thing to do, as when the faeries appeared, they surrounded Reriic, completely missing her out. Then, she only had to watch as Reriic reeked havoc on the poor faeries.

At his command, she stepped forwards, glancing to the smallest of the faeries, her eyes sweeping the other two on the floor as she did. Her expression looked like none that she had given on that trip thus far. It was completely blank of all emotions. In that look, she clearly stated that she did not care for these faeries, would not care if they died, would not care if she killed them. They had stolen one of the Prince‘s of her homeland. They would be made to pay the price. She walked over to the smallest guy. He looked up to her, but seemed incapable of moving himself, still reeling from the pain inflicted upon him by Reriic. She crouched down to look at him better. ”Here that? Reriic wants you alive. Aren‘t you fortunate?!” She grinned coldly at him. Shin spat at her in response. Elya‘s grin fell and she straightened up. ”How rude.”

Elya placed her foot against Shin‘s side, then glanced up at Cin's sword, then back at Shin again. Pulling her foot back, she kicked him hard, sending him flying towards Cin‘s sword. He landed just short of it in a heap, and Elya walked over towards him. ”There … not so much in the way now, are we?” Once again, Shin merely spat at her in response. Elya grabbed his lips, holding them closed tightly. ”You really don‘t have very good manners do you? Didn‘t you mother ever teach you to be nice to women? No? Well, seeing as she‘s not around, I‘ll just have to teach it to you myself.” In a swift motion, Shin was face down on the ground again. He tried to push himself up on shaky arms, but a step on his behind pinned him to the ground. Elya examined his wings. ”These look awful delicate.” She ran a hand softly over one of the wings and Shin began to squirm underneath her foot. ”My brother used to enjoy pulling wings off of bugs when we were kids. He was always the cruellest of us all. Let‘s see how easily I pull yours off shall we?”

Shin‘s wriggling only got faster as Elya grabbed onto a wing and began to pull. He cried out in pain and she released it. His expression looked relieved, but only for a moment. Then, she spoke and he began squirming harder than ever. ”It appears a little more effort than my brother put in is required. That‘s not a problem though. I‘m much stronger than any of my brothers.” Her grip tightened around the wing, her body tensed, and she pulled hard. The more she pulled, the louder he screamed, and during it all, Elya‘s expression remained neutral. She pressed harder into his behind, her arms tensing more and more with no give from the wings.

Then little by little the wing pulled back towards her. By this point Shin was a muttering, screaming, crying mess, begging her to stop. His words fell on deaf ears though, as Elya focused only on the task at hand, and eventually her hard work paid off. She tumbled backwards, wing in hand. Shin released a final, loud cry, before falling silent, into a semi-conscious state his body twitching in pain occasionally. Elya righted herself, and walked over to him, glancing at the other wing on his back, and deciding that if she tried to pull that out he may just completely pass out, or he‘d lose too much blood and die, and he'd be no use to them if either occurred.

She threw the wing in her hand to one side, and turned, once more, to Shin on the floor. ”Should probably put some pressure on that wound, or he could just die of blood loss as it is …” she muttered to herself. She tore fabric off Shin‘s clothing to form a makeshift bandage and tied it over the wound, tightly, before propping him up against Cin‘s sword in the ground. ”I hope that taught you a lesson. Be nice to women, especially ones that are super pissed off with you.” Elya patted him on the head lightly, before turning around to see how Reriic was faring.

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[Sierra The Captor]

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take a ℓeap of fαith. I ĸnow wє'ℓℓ makє it.

“Y-your highness, wha-” was much of what Annabel was able to say. The winds that the princess had conjured had overwhelmed her ability to grab hold and prevent the princess from uncontrollable rage. And now bees had appeared out of nowhere, seemingly back in their frenzied states and destroying the resident houses within their clearing.

Unbeknown to Annabel, the same state was happening to her, and most probably to Princess Sylphira as well. Her grip on her princess loosened as her knees fell to the mushroom top that was about to collapse, but she could not feel the collapse beneath her. She was in a delusional state, feeling that same prickling pain she had felt just moments ago slowly creeping back to her skin. The sounds of the baby’s wail agitated her even more, gnawing at whatever animalistic being that had awoken from the other faeries.

She saw him. His filthy hands grabbing hold of the princess, clasping his hand over her mouth and disappeared. Annabel let out an inhumane groan that did not belong to her, but more of the devil that is slowly taking over.

Stop…stop…STOP!

And it did, but it was not because of Anna. If Anna did not feel so light-headed, she would’ve thanked whoever had shut the damn baby. She let out a tired moan, her hand on her head to ease her excruciating headache. From the looks of it, she was in a kneeling position, her other hand on the ground supporting her weight. Lifting her head slightly, her eyes wandered around like a drunken fool. She remained as such due to her weariness, until she was able to regain her eyesight, now properly surveying her surroundings as she stood up, limping as she does so, and then realizing that she had wings, subconsciously floated a few inches off the air.

Now that the frightening coerce to turn into a raging insect had subsided, at least for the time being, Anna became more confused than ever. She was in the residential area, but it was of ruins. Around her, the bees were twitching on the ground, alive, but barely so. Anna felt an inexplicable pain jabbed at her chest at the sight of this. Lips and hands quivering, in fear, in utter despair. Her people, her city, the once peaceful forest was dissolving right before her. What made this pain all the more throbbing was that she did not do a damn thing to save it.

Anna held back the emotions that were slowly escaping from her watery eyes. She clasped her hands against her forehead, smacking it slightly from the top of her head to the tears that were about to fall upon her cheeks. She was trying to stay strong. If anything, this was certainly not the moment to break down.

She needed to find the princess and secure information and revenge upon the people that caused all of this destruction. Her eyebrows creased in confusion, trying to make out where the man could possibly take the princess to.

The only logical place was the palace.

Clearing her throat, her silver wings animated from behind, soaring higher than a few inches until she found herself overlooking the residential areas. Her hands gripped tightly into balls of fist, a look of determination etched across her face as she ascended towards the palace.

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ℓocation |- towards the palace -| 00C |- derp post is derp after a long time. Making another post after this. -_- -|

[Ariiadne]

▐░ℬasℎiraℎ░▌
『 ℘rincess oƒ GRADIUS 』

Bashirah stared down the thick fog as if it had a face. She didn’t find it too pleasant navigating it the first time, so going back into a place where outsiders – and she imagined Gradians in particular – were not welcome did not exactly tickle her fancy. She internally cursed herself for not going back into the mushroom house to retrieve her supplies; with as much oil and flint as she had recovered, she could have dispelled the fog with ease. So now what was she to do? How in the world was she supposed to find the others, find Cin?

After pacing back and forth for a few moments, Bashirah found her answer as her eyes drilled thoughtfully into the ground. Engraved in the soil was a line. It was unnatural. Upon closer inspection, she noticed the stabbing plunge at its source, as if a blade had been thrust into the earth and dragged. She concluded that it was exactly that. Reriic and Elya must have left a trail. Without delay, the princess darted into the mist, always making sure that the pads of her feet remained directly atop the carved line.

It certainly was shocking how well the fog gobbled up light and sound alike. Running full speed, Bashirah was caught off-guard at how quickly she found herself in the middle of the battle. Shadows appeared first, and by the time the sounds reached her ears, she was close enough to start making out features. At first, she had thought that the mist had been distorting the figures of the assailants. But they were really that large.

Bashirah’s sharp eyes assessed the situation at an amazing pace. Reriic on the ground. Probably recovering from a blow. This idea was reinforced by a slick shimmer on his dark clothes. Blood. The bulky faerie looming over him gripped his forearm in agony, his flesh rotting away near the wrist. And there was her window.

Bringing her shovel back, Bashirah built up potential energy as she charged silently but powerfully. The Gradian princess emerged from the fog like a specter, swinging her makeshift weapon with enough force to not only knock one of the axes from the faerie’s hands, but to also fracture the exposed bones of his decomposing appendage. Unfortunately for her, the hulking berserker seemed to begin to feel the affects of adrenaline from his previous wound and bounced back quickly. In response to her attack, the faerie swung his uninjured arm and his axe at her throat. She expected this much at least, though. She ducked. He kicked a bit clumsily. Bashirah barely lifted her shovel up fast enough to absorb most of the blow, sending her onto her back.

For such large men, they were surprisingly agile. Another appeared from beyond the veil of fog, wielding dual bludgeons. He brought them both down towards her, and she rolled away. However, the impact of his weapons into the ground was so strong that a plate of stone cracked and lifted, catapulting Bashirah a few feet into the air like a seesaw.

With astonishing grace, the Gradian didn’t let this disrupt her flow. Stabbing her shovel into the dirt, she halted her movement through the air and spun along its handle – in a dancer-esque manner – so that her feet were again planted firmly down. Sauntering in front of the shovel, Bashirah donned a confident smirk, pausing for just a second before dislodging the tool and twirling it once in her grasp.

The newly-appeared faerie snorted in displeasure. “A Gradian,” he grumbled.

“Quite the observant thing, aren’t you?” Bashirah quipped.

[XSenkoX]

For a long, terrible moment it seemed like the axe-wielding faerie was going to succeed in killing Reriic. Jidang loomed overhead, his sweat-slicked face grinning maliciously down at the elfin prince scrambling to remember what combination of muscles would force his legs to stop being the consistency of rubber though his swirling vision. Just as Reriic had managed to get enough footing to maybe roll out of the way of the axe when it came crashing down, a figure darted into the clearing and assaulted the massive faerie with... a shovel. If he hadn't witnessed the act himself, there was no way that the elf would have believed that it really happened. Hells, if it hadn't been for the skittering away of the second axe and Jidang suddenly changing his attack trajectory, Reriic still might have dismissed it as a hallucination. But he had been given a moment to get out of the way and the elf wasn't about to waste it, grabbing handfuls of soil until his limbs reacted properly and propelled him clear of the faerie's remaining weapon.

Back on is feet, Reriic found his balance quickly enough but couldn't hide the pallor of blood loss creeping beneath his ashen skin. To top it all off, he felt something warm dripping down the side of his head and brought his hand cautiously to the ear that had been struck, discovering a surprising amount of blood on his fingers when he pulled it away. He didn't bother checking the gash down his chest, knowing full-well from the extra weight of his wrap that it was deep and bleeding heavily.

Turning from self-assessment to seeking out whomever had saved his a**, the elf was quite shocked to see Bashirah as the one that had come to he and his brother's rescue. Alone, no less. Was Kunal hiding in the fog somewhere, waiting for another moment of surprise to leap in? The twin's location stopped being important when Bashirah was thrown into the air by the third faerie's bludgeons freeing a massive chunk of the ground from itself. She flipped neatly over the shaft of the shovel and looked confident in her ability to not get trashed like Reriic had, but there were two of those giant brutes and only one of her.

"Hey, bug!" Reriic shouted at Jidang, "I bet without that other arm, you're pretty useless. Even like this, I could tear your pretty wings off."

Jidang took the bait with an incoherent bellow, adrenaline pumping through his body and turning his pain and anger into raw power. The berserker swung wildly, pushing Reriic into evasive manoeuvres that were barely able to keep him a step ahead of the axe as it screamed through the air.

[Rada Han]

ImPeRfEcTiOn is в є α υ т у,
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxⓂⒶⒹⓃⒺⓈⓈ is gєníus,
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxand it is better to be absolutely ɾïḋïсυløυṡ than absolutely ๒◊ЯⅰиG.
.........



When Jean finally caught up to Kora, they’d already made it close to their destination. He could see the large flowers of the birthing grounds from where they stood, but there were also the sounds of monarchs nearby. “Stop, Kora!” He whispered sharply and was able to catch hold of the Shasta’s arm. She’d run so far without stopping that Jean-Baptiste was out of breath. His face was still flushed and bloody, but the cool air flowing through the leaves was enough to cool him down.

“You don’t know what you’re getting into. We should plan this out first.” When they stopped, it was enough time for the others to catch up. Eston had followed them, as well as Catalina and Kiya. They were now a moderately sized group of people with little combat ability, but it would have to do. Jean would’ve gone after Zaara if it were only him and Kora, anyway. They needed to be smart about this, if the monarchs were as dangerous as they appeared to be. “Let’s at least see what we’re up against.”

Carefully, the prince snuck closer to the garden and crouched near its carved wooden fence, which so beautifully housed the giant flowers of the garden. The scents were lovely, almost intoxicating due to the sheer volume of the flowers. From where he was kneeling, he could see through some of them, to the path downward, where Zaara was being kept. “I see her,” He whispered, and motioned for the others to come and share the view. “She’s right there. They’re keeping her in a cage, like some kind of—some kind of animal.” He was correct; Zaara was inside of a wooden cage with steel bars. Standing in front of her cage was the faerie who took her. They appeared to be talking.

“Look there,” He pointed out. “To the left, there’s one. Another one, closest to us, right in front… And there’s another one on the right, near the gate. Looks like they're all carrying bows.” The blonde tugged at his hair anxiously as he stared down at the scene. He knew that they needed to work quickly, but he’d never had to stage a battle before. He hoped the others had better ideas. “Maybe if we can lure the leader away from the cage and distract them, you guys can go get that cage open.”





xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx《The Trickster Prince》
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[Ariiadne]

▐░ℬasℎiraℎ░▌
『 ℘rincess oƒ GRADIUS 』

While the younger prince of Dradecus did his best to keep the one-armed faerie occupied, Bashirah braced herself for her own battle. Her body tingled with anticipation, hairs standing on end. This is what she had missed fighting the sand beast. Teeth gritted, eyes wide open, Bashirah had to fight back a grin. The princess knew she could not fall into Reriic’s situation; if she let this man start swinging, he probably wouldn’t stop. So, instead of waiting for her opponent to charge, she did.

With a fox-like agility, Bashirah ran full speed at the faerie. She avoided the two inevitable swings, sliding underneath his parted legs. Holding her shovel horizontally, she used it to sweep the man off his feet, effectively sending him crashing to the earth. Scurrying to her feet once more, Bashirah did her best to get to him as fast as possible, readying her shovel so that its tip might sever his spinal cord. However, the berserker’s wings folded and he rolled forward, narrowly avoiding her blow, leaving her shovel entrenched in the dirt.

Scowling, the Gradian again charged, determined to remain on the offensive against this faerie. She knew it would be unlikely that he’d tire out; so waiting for an opening was an inefficient plan. Bashirah had to make one.

“You’ve got balls for a woman,” the warrior faerie commented calmly as he dodged Bashirah’s swings consecutively, swings that would have surely cut him deeply, not because the shovel was sharp, but because of the sheer velocity with which she was winging that thing. Though she didn’t nearly have as much training in combat as Kunal, Bashirah still maintained a most impressive technique. A range of weapons fit comfortably in her hand. “But you are small. I’ll wait.”

“Good to know you’re patient,” she spat, not once relenting. “You don’t know much about Gradians, do you?”

In reality, Bashirah and Kunal alike had endured countless hours of nonstop conditioning. Endurance was beaten into them. The princess had once danced for over 24 hours. They were taught to ignore the burning in their muscles. They welcomed it. They welcomed the burn, the pain. Make more pain, they were told. If it hurts, you’re doing it right.

The berserker didn’t answer. Instead, he caught Bashirah’s shovel mid-thrust. In the blink of an eye, he’d ripped it from her hands. The Gradian princess didn’t let her face display her frustration and dismay. Being disarmed was seen as unforgivable in Gradian society, but looking up at the hulk of faerie before her, Bashirah felt less shame than she did anxiety. Out of reflex, Bashirah unsheathed the dagger she had hanging at her side.

“I do know that Gradians should never set foot in this place and live.”

Suddenly, the faerie shot into the air. Bashirah had almost forgotten he had wings, and felt utterly helpless when he disappeared into the cloudy air. After a moment, she heard a somewhat distant clanking: he’d dropped her shovel somewhere. She heard which direction it’d landed, but was wary of wandering too far from Reriic, whom she then checked on. He was still dodging the one-armed one, but she could tell his wounds were taking a toll on him. Her head jerked upward again, wondering where he had gone, growing ever more concerned.

THUNK!

Not even a foot from her, one of the faerie’s bludgeons landed, creating a small crater in the ground.

THUNK!

The second one landed the same distance away, just on the opposite side of her. Putting her dagger back, she began to run as fast as she could towards Reriic. Behind her, the berserker landed with incredible force, making his own dent in the earth, before picking up his bludgeons and shooting back up into the sky.

“Reriic!” she shouted, desperately glancing up and around, hoping to predict where he was or where the next one would fall. “Try to make a spark!”

THUNK!

A bludgeon landed right in front of her, sending her back. She landed and stumbled, but although she retained her balance, the heels of her shoes snapped. Frantically, she ripped them off. She threw one at Reriic, not intending to hit him necessarily, but to get his attention. “SPARK!” she screamed before her voice was cut short by another nearby THUNK! Now barefooted, Bashirah didn’t want to bring her fight to the wounded elven prince, but without even some sort of weapon, she stood no chance against the faerie. Her shovel was too far away. The dagger hanging from her belt required that her opponent actually be close enough for her to stab, not flying unseen in the air. Her only other option, then, was fire.

[Overlord Gizmo]

x x x x x x x x x ✗ K o r a x Z h a d d a g h

Kora had not been thinking straight as she charged blindly after the trail left by the bastards that had taken her sister. She did not even know who or if anyone was following after her until Jean-Baptiste finally caught up with her, catching hold of her arm. The Shastan princess whirled back on him violently, grinding her teeth in frustration and anger. Silence enveloped her for a moment, before she calmed slightly, although her heart was still pounding in her chest. Her face fell slightly before she looked away from him. “You’re right...” she whispered slowly. “I just... I couldn’t...” she paused, taking a deep breath to try and clear her head. It didn’t work. She had been so distraught over Zaara being taken, that she hadn’t been able to think straight. Her distress had gone straight to her head. Even now, it was still clouding her judgement. Leaping in without a plan or even any cover would not do anything to save her sister. She mentally chastised herself for being so stupid, even though every instinct in her body was telling her to run. To attack. Fast... She looked away from him for a moment, her small hands balling into tight fists, shaking at her sides.

After a few moments, the others who had followed along behind them caught up to the prince and princess. The man with the dog, as well as Catalina and Kiya... Kora was honestly surprised to see them, but welcomed their help. She had expected to be all alone in this. Right now... Zaara was the one that was all alone.... Kora wouldn’t let her down. Her movements much more restrained than they had been before, she snuck closer to the garden with the others. She crouched not far from the others, but had no way of looking to see what was on the other side. When Jean motioned for them to look through his viewpoint, she knelt down to see for herself. The garden was beautiful. Just as beautiful as the resting place had been... although that was not what drew her attention. Even as Jean spoke, she could see Zaara in the cage. The sight made her face grow hot with anger. Her crimson eyes locked on it as her jaw tensed. “How dare they...” she seethed, although the statement was barely audible, even to her own ears.

Her steeled gaze went from one archer to the next as Jean pointed them out. “Four of them including the leader...” she noted. One of her hands had gone to grip the wood siding of the fence. Her knuckles had gone white from holding on so tightly, but she had yet to notice. She nodded as Jean spoke, her gaze never once leaving the garden. As they were in a giant tree, there was hardly any actual earth for her to control. Her eyes scanned the ground until they caught a boulder hidden amongst the grass on the other side of the birthing ground, about twenty yards away from their current location. With a careful flick of the wrist, the boulder rolled until it struck the stalk of giant flower, causing the entire thing to shake and creak.


OOC: Meh.... posting what I've got. It'll give the others a chance to post. ^^

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[K33LA]

Part One

Kunal did not turn to face Sonya as she berated him. His restored vision - functional but somewhat unfocused at times - remained locked in the direction of Bashirah's exit. Though he did not appear to be listening to the bitter monologue delivered by Sonya, Kunal absorbed every word that fell from her lips. Bashirah's facial expression burned in his mind. The subtlety of shock, her mouth parting in surprise. He blind-sided her in his attempt to get a reaction from her. Kunal had expected to experience some form of satisfaction, a hint of victory or even relief. But no such feeling came. Bashirah had barely reacted. Her fleeting expression soon melted into Gradian neutrality. Stone faced, she had fled the ruins of the once-standing mushroom cottage. Were they already so disconnected that Kunal could not even provoke anger from her? The whole exchange only served to unsettle Kunal, to knot his stomach with denied guilt. Sonya's choice words resonated with that inner turmoil.

"Destruction is all we Gradians are good for," Kunal commented softly. Finally he turned to face Sonya. A twisted sense of tranquility descended upon Kunal, similar to his experience in Dradecus with Sylphira. Emotional shock produced numbness, or so it seemed. His eyes scanned the Dradecan woman's form, truly looking at her for the first time. "It's all I'm good for, at least." Equally soft, but more internal. Brain catching up to his mouth, Kunal flared to life for a passing second. "Who do you think you're talking to, you disease-infected whelp? Haseena be damned, I cannot stand you foreigners. Always chiming in with your dribble or gallivanting around to mate in dark corners. All of you disgust me."

"Disgust you?" Sonya cooed, and with her words she smiled like the devil. "Surely I can't repulse you so much. I could show you a good time in one of those dark corners, maybe then you'd lighten up. But no, Gradians are as dull in bed as they are in conversation unless you make them angry.... Ah, I bet you've got a lot of anger, don't you sweetheart?"

Kunal tensed considerably at the shift in their topic. He growled to himself as Sonya droned on.

"Must you make yourself more unappealing than you already are? I assure you, I am not interested in taking my 'anger' out on you. That little Prince of yours seems plenty 'angry' for the both of us anyway," Kunal spat back, folding his arms. His expression altered to one that suggested he smelled something foul. "How does one get started as a whore? Or perhaps it's just a racial trait?"

"Don't sound too jealous, love," Sonya began, but her expression grew nearly as sour as Kunal's at his question. Her eyebrows pulled together as her teeth clenched down. "We can't all be born supreme, you know. Fat and royal and coddled just wasn't in my cards, it seems. Some of us do what we must to survive. A whore is far more useful in the real world than an ill-tempered prince."

Sonya would say nothing else on the matter, her jaw tight and nostrils flaring. She was as quick-witted as any street elf and able to take harsh words with a stark laugh, but Kunal was strangely adept at saying just the right thing to grind her gears painfully. Face red with her own little temper, Sonya finally remember the baby in her arms as it started to squirm again, likely brought out of her peaceful slumber by all the bickering. The whore's blank eyes gazed sightlessly down at it with a newfound disgust and impatience.

"I'm certainly too disease-infected to be holding such a delicate thing," she hissed, and with that she thrust the child into Kunal's chest. "Here."

Holding the baby in hand, one might have thought the small bundle was made of feces based on the Gradian's reaction... It certainly smelled so. Kunal did not know how to hold children. Large hands under the thing's armpits, he raised her to eye-level and stared her down with an unrelenting gaze.

"Filthy thing," Kunal whispered, his lip curling. The baby made some strange noise and blinked. It reached out and touched the tip of his nose with tiny hands. "She smells like rotting meat. I'm not holding her."

Directly following, Kunal forced the fairy child back into Sonya's embrace, but the blind woman wasn't ready for the gesture. She felt the bundle press into her chest, where it started to fall before Sonya scooped it up awkwardly, jostling the poor thing and seizing it by the legs for a second. It was a miracle the child didn't have any lasting brain damage from the whole experience. Grimacing and turning her head away, the elf took a violent step forward, closing the distance between herself and the prince. Throwing the nastiest expression in Kunal's direction as she possibly could, she gave the baby a final shove into his arms and started walking past him. The child responded with a giggle.

"I'm leaving that damned thing on the ground for the insects to eat if you don't-" Sonya began, but the demon shifted in her with such brutal force that she choked on her words and stumbled to a halt. Not a second later, the sound of fluttering wings and feet touching the ground met her ears, making her shiver with dread. Do something, Sonya thought, but she was met with silence. Both demon and instinct left her alone, and she found herself standing dumbly between prince and attackers, a weak meat shield with no ability to defend herself.

See how weak you are, the creature finally laughed, a faint echo in her mind to tell her how alone she was, even now. See how frail. You will listen next time. You will obey, not instruct.

As Kyo and Nianzu descended upon them, Kunal's body stiffened in their presence, automatically going on the defensive; he cradled the infant protectively in his arms. The newcomers began a slow advance forward as Nianzu finished speaking. They were strangely casual, given the situation. At the word 'sacrifice,' the Gradian Prince's torso turned away, shielding the small bundle against his chest. Why he cared enough to do that was beyond him, and in truth he didn't even register his actions. Perhaps even Gradians could not escape the instinct to protect the young.

"Sacrifice?" repeated Kunal. His eyes stole a swift glance at the rosy-faced baby. "What are you talking about?" Kyo merely gave an irking chuckle in response. "You damn, insufferable faeries!"

"I would advise you to not speak of my people in such a manner, Gradian. Do not make me revoke my previous offer to spare you," replied Nianzu matter-of-factly.

"Spare me?" the Prince mimicked. "Who the hell are you people?"

Despite Kunal's classic disinterest in other people, it was a genuine question. He did not appreciate threats from strange foreigners, especially ones who came out of nowhere.

"Nianzu, let's just kill them and get this over with," whined Kyo as he scratched his crotch. "We found the baby, who cares what happens to them? Besides, he's rude." Kyo pointed to Kunal, who grimaced in reply.

"If they do not wish to fight, we must at least give them the option. Miyu is a wise woman; you would do well to heed her teachings, Kyo."

"Aww, c'mon, man. Don't be such a kill-joy. That butch b***h isn't around to judge you right now."

This comment did not go over well with Nianzu, who swiftly placed his young companion in a painful looking body lock. His words seethed with disdain.

"Never speak of Lady Miyu in such a manner while I am present. One more word and you will join these two, should they refuse our request."

"Certainly you wouldn't harm an innocent, defenseless woman, would you?" Sonya chimed in, looking just as innocent as she claimed to be, her eyes wide with fear and lips parted for a frightened breath to escape her lungs erratically. She wrung her hands and nervously grabbed at her blouse, all the while very aware of the dagger at her side. "I have nothing to do with these people."

"Oh, well that's a load of horse s**t if I've ever heard one," Kunal interjected. His gaze flickered back toward the faeries. "I'm not giving you imbeciles this baby until you give me some answers. What the hell is happening in Laelie, and where did you take the others?"

"We're not telling you s**t," Kyo replied, finally freed from Nianzu's vice-grip. "Hand over that baby or you'll regret it."

"No," Kunal said resolutely. He did not like others taking from him, whether or not he wanted the item in question. And if handing the child over meant it's life would be used to fuel some twisted ritual, Kunal would have none of it. In the back of his mind, he saw Gradian infants being cast into the lava pits, abandoned and unwanted, their tiny lungs doomed to suffocate beneath the molten rock because they could not burn. He always wondered how much of it they felt. He wondered how much this child would feel, what they would do to her if left to their own devices. No, something deep within Kunal commanded him to protect the baby girl, to save her from what none had bothered to save him from years ago.

"No?" Nianzu asked gruffly. The old faerie crouched down in an offensive posture.

"No," the Prince said again. He quickly realized there were dire consequences to defying this pair.

кυиαℓ, ѕσиуα, αи∂ вαвуxxxxx

--> one big happy familyxxxxxxxx

[K33LA]

Part Two

In the blink of an eye, both Kyo and Nianzu shot forward with alarming speed. Kunal's brain jarred momentarily, remembering Sonya was not a fighter and he still had the baby in hand. There was no way they were going to last long.

[********] Kunal swore. He bolted to cut them off, arriving in time to kick the Dradecan woman's legs from beneath her. As she slammed to the ground, Kyo's large, chipped blade sliced the air where her throat had been a moment ago. "God damnit, are you blind, woman?!"

Sonya couldn't manage so much as a smartass comment as she hit the ground, pitching forward with a dull ache behind her knees. Grass met her palms as she slammed down hard, the whistle of sliced air singing above her head. The elf immediately realized what was going on, that all hell had broken loose with little warning, but even that knowledge wasn't enough to save her. There were two attackers, same as them, but the fight was far from even. They'd be hacked to pieces for certain, easy prey like newborn deer in winter. All around her were sounds, horrible sounds, things she didn’t understand. The rustle of clothing, the swing of a blade, a grunt from Kunal, boots churning up the dirt beneath their march. Too much. It was too much. Sonya scrambled to her feet and made to run, desperation fueling her movements.

Where the blade came from, she didn't know, but through the chaos it struck her, and with it came a searing pain that lit up her milky gaze with bursts of colored light. Sonya screamed as her flesh gave way at her side and she grabbed at the sword in her body as if she could simply lift it away. The man trying to kill her was panting hard; she could feel his breath, hear it like a deafening roar in her ears. She could smell the sweat on his skin, even now. She smelled the dirt on his clothes, carried here from some other land. She was aware of so much in a moment, time rattling to a painful stop. The elf gave out a pitiful gasp and the blade was wrenched away of its own will, leaving her alone to defend its wielder against a real threat. Time lurched to life again as she fell back to her knees, only finding the knife at her belt when it was too late to use.

Only a minute into the fight and they were already struggling to stay alive. Kyo had slipped passed Kunal. He was occupied trying not to have every bone broken in his body by Nianzu while juggling a screaming, terrified infant. In the distance the clicking and crying of insects could be heard, singing their ominous song as they surged toward them. They would not have long before they arrived. But there was no time to stress over such matters, as there were two very real and present dangers currently attacking Sonya and Kunal. The two men danced in an unarmed flurry of fists and feet, yet Nianzu had the upper hand in skill. The faerie monk seized Kunal by the shoulders and slammed their heads together, causing Kunal to stumble backward. The Gradian Prince's vision danced with grainy whiteness, and before long he could feel a powerful fist lodged in his gut. Kunal gasped for air, yet the blow had effectively knocked the wind out of him. Breathless and wheezing, a large knee slammed into his chest, a pair of hands removing the baby simultaneously.

Flying, sailing, and sprawling through the air, Kunal was stopped by something solid, though exactly what he did not have time to discover. His sight refocused precisely for him to find Kyo's crazed face hovering over him, wicked blade poised to strike him through the heart. A surprised cry rose in the Gradian's throat as he twisted away from death. The sword sank into the soft earth far too close to where its target had previously been. Using the momentum of his body, Kunal swung his legs round and swept Kyo from his rooted stance. Their positions trading, Kunal rose to his feet once more, a stream of crimson trickling down his nose from the wound which split his forehead in two. Kyo caught himself on the hilt of his sword, trying to stop himself from falling entirely, yet Kunal had enough foresight to quickly slam the knight’s skull into the base of a tree with his heel. In one fluid motion the Prince turned to see Sonya bleeding a few feet away on the ground. Just beyond her was Nianzu lifting off into the air, the screaming child in his clutches. The mere sight enraged Kunal, angered by his own weakness and whatever paternal instincts were driving him now. He released a stanching battle cry and shot forward like an arrow, adrenaline masking the pain of a badly sprained ankle. Leaping up, he tackled the old Laelian to the ground. Together they rolled in a tangled heap.

By some stroke of luck, Kunal ended up on top at the end of their painful journey across the forest floor. He wrenched the girl from the disoriented Nianzu's hands, delivering two swift punches to the head before curling into a ball - the child at the center - and rolling away. She screamed relentlessly in his ear.

"WILL YOU SHUT UP!" he screamed as he scrambled upright. Naturally, she responded by wailing louder. Kunal took a swift account of the battlefield: Kyo had begun recover among the roots of the tree, and Nianzu was still trying to gain his bearings from the assault Kunal just delivered. Without looking, Kunal knew his body had been decimated by the monk, and if the blood spilling down his face was any indication, he didn't want to see what the rest of him looked like. His eyes urgently found Sonya once more. In his desperation the Prince had entered an unusual state, one dwelling in the most primitive recesses of his mind, and in this mode he felt an uncharacteristic need to defend both Sonya and the child. Defend the women and children. Such a primal desire, dating back before humanity had the capacity to reason. There was no time to approve or deny this change within him. There was only survival; the survival of man, woman, and child.

Kunal crouched down and frantically removed his sturdy Dradecan shirt. Though it was damaged from the fight, it was still strong enough to hold up the fairy girl. He fashioned a make-shift sling and strapped the baby to his chest, looping one sleeve over his right shoulder and the other around the left side of his torso; he tied them together tightly on his back. Kyo and Nianzu were fully on their feet now, and their murderous gazes were focused securely on Kunal. He would have to take them both on, but hopefully he would stand a better chance now that both arms were free to battle. A heated silence followed as all three men readied their minds for the next phase of their fight, the chattering of the insects growing louder with each passing second. A soft moan escaped Sonya's lips.

As if that had been their signal, the lethal pair leapt back into the fray, gunning toward the Dradecan; Kunal met their pace with a vengeance. They met in the middle over the wounded elf. Kunal managed to dodge a blow aimed at his head from Nianzu, but was caught painfully on the left shoulder by Kyo's sword. The chipped blade dug into his flesh and tore away. Kunal choked on a scream. Fresh blood running down his chest and back, the Prince dropped into the splits rather ungracefully to avoid another attack; the rush of air just above his head told him it had been a wise move. Legs spread in a perfect line in front and behind him, Kunal fell on his side, landing next to Sonya. Strategically placed, Kunal kicked his feet mightily upward into the groins of both men. They responded to the blow as Kunal intended, gasping and doubling over on their sides; the bloodied Prince enjoyed the sight from dizzied eyes. He made it to his feet, swaying dangerously from blood loss. He scooped Sonya from the dirt and grass and tried his best to prop her up with haste. Nianzu and Kyo remained on the earthen floor of the forest.

"Sonya, can you move on your own?" Kunal asked desperately, gaze still trained on the writhing faeries.

"Kunal," Sonya rasped, her pale hand weakly over the gaping wound at her side. For a painful, wasted second she could say no more, though a shuddering rasp crawled from her lips like a dying flower from the first frost. Her fingers spread across the blood on her blouse, doing little to stop its flow. Her milky eyes shot back and forth wildly as if she'd forgotten their uselessness, her instinct telling her to search for the attackers, to run or die. Her other hand grasped at the prince like an anchor that rooted her to life. How had it come to this? How had it come to her life in his hands? She was sure to die here in this wretched place.

You will never cross me again, the creature whispered to her with finality, and Sonya nodded to it desperately, expecting help that never came. It would wait. Until the last second, it would let her suffer as a lesson, as a game, for no reason at all if it wanted.

"Kunal, I'm blind," she finally spoke, sensing the urgency of the situation. Lies were beyond her when death and hope both stared her in the face. Kunal laughed quietly in the face of her confession, the sound tinged subtly with hysteria.

"Of course you are," Kunal replied disbelievingly. And now so much about Sonya made sense: the odd way in which she carried herself, her absolute refusal to focus on one spot for very long, and her reluctance to speak with anyone. She was no longer a mere whore - too bitter and scathing for her own good - but she was also a blind one. In an ironic twist, Kunal felt a sudden bond form between them, a sense of understanding and camaraderie; his day of blindness - what it had done to mutate his typical hatred for life - could not compare to the constant and impenetrable darkness Sonya experienced. As the monk and the knight lifted upward, wings fluttering angrily, Kunal whispered into her ear. "We're going to live through this, you stupid piece of street trash. And when we do, I am going to stomp these bastards' skulls into the ground for every day you have lived in blindness."

кυиαℓ, ѕσиуα, αи∂ вαвуxxxxx

--> one big happy familyxxxxxxxx

[Shuttershy]

❀ ѕуℓρнιяα тuulí chrístαllє

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx---- »» princess of lαєlíє

xx❃❂❁✾❃❂❁✾❃❂❁✾❃❂❁✾❃❂❁✾❃❂❁

Hanzo was growing increasingly agitated. He was impatient in his nature and Sylphira’s inability to cooperate was angering him. He took his spear and jammed it through the cage’s bars more than once, and kicked at the thing in his frustration once he discovered that by no means, would she answer any of his questions. For her part, Sylphira hardly moved, and instead stared him down with an indignant glare. In truth, she was close to terrified, but she could not let that show, not now.

“You’re fine with your mother being a tyrant? She exiled us without warning and left us and our children to die. You seem to care about your lands. Why is it that you won’t help us find her? Justice must be served!” This provoked no response.

The knight seemed to have a perpetual twitch at the corner of his mouth no matter what anybody said to him and his voice was always firm. Outside of this mission, it wasn’t any different. Hanzo was known as the aggressive leader who didn’t understand fun or humor, who was only interested in his mission and nothing else.

“Did you find it yet?!” He barked at the other men who’d torn the throne room to shreds in their frantic search.

“No, we can’t find it anywhere. Are you sure it is here?”

“It’s here. Keep looking.”

“B-but we’ve searched everywhere!”

Already agitated, the soldier who spoke back at him was soon impaled by the spear Hanzo threw with a roar. It pinned the monarch to the wall through the stomach. The others soon took to flipping everything over again in search for some mysterious object.

Sylphira's dark eyes watched the confrontation and closed tightly as the soldier was cut down. Was this the first time that blood had been spilled here, in the palace? Had the circumstances been less dire, she might have considered it seriously, but her mind quickly changed gears. Hanzo had become a monster. It seemed that her betrothed were destined to be so.

"You have devolved, Hanzo," the princess spoke softly now, with less open anger. Her tone was more sorrowful, as though she pitied him. "I cannot recognize you anymore." Sylphira's grip on the prison loosened.

"Perhaps my mother is at fault. What, then, have the rest of our people done to deserve the fate you decided for them? Were they given any warning? Is it truly any different than how you were treated? Can you say you are not as cruel or unjust?" Desperation grew in her voice. "And for what?..."

"For Izar," He replied, darkly. "And a new Yardis."

Delicate hands released the bars of the cage and fell. Sylphira felt sick, her vision blurred. Izar... Somehow, she could feel the monarch infant in distress, frightened and wailing. With much of her previous anger having disipated and left her weary, the princess simply felt numb and ill. The familiar skin-crawling returned, and her wings hung low, heavy. Glossy, dark eyes followed the Monarch soldiers as they tore the palace apart for a second time, searching for something that was likely not there, while she wracked her dizzy brain in a desperate attempt to recall from where she had heard that name.

.
..
...


Location | Geongbokgung, The Shining Palace | .
Company | Hanzo, Monarch Minions | .
OOC | Annaaaaa x( | .

[XSenkoX]

Bashirah's shoe whizzed by, just barely making it through the gap between elf and faerie. The berserker was too far gone to be phased by it, but Reriic's attention was, indeed, drawn to her frantic cries. He scurried away from another swipe of the murderous axe and cursed, "Does it look like I have some flint on me?!"

Risking a glance in the Gradian's direction, he hissed when it became obvious that she had been disarmed and her weapon was who knows where. That explained the need for fire, but how was he supposed to make a spark? Reriic had never carried a weapon, since he was either out of the fights or able to do his magic from the back lines. And none of his magic was capable of creating a spark, either. What did Bashirah want him to do? There was Cin's sword, but if he moved that, then the trio wouldn't have a centre to try and keep the fight around, not to mention Elya and the little faerie were over there. His eyes flew desperately around the foggy arena, looking for anything that could possibly be used to make a spark. The axe. Reriic's gaze fell upon the abandoned weapon by chance, and of course it was located a good distance behind the giant faerie. It figured. He might be able to run the faerie back around to it, but it looked unlikely that Bashirah would be able to hold her ground while he did that. So, somehow, the elf had to get behind the giant.

The flurry of thoughts had drawn his attention away from the fight for only a moment, but it was long enough for his footwork to get sloppy and allow Jidang to close the cushion of space that the elf had been trying so hard to maintain. Reriic snapped back to his fight just in time to watch the berserker raise his arm for another slash with the axe that was almost certain not to miss or be anything less than fatal.

"Time to die, momma's boy!" Jidang grinned wildly as the axe began its descent.

Time seemed to slow down as the bloodied weapon arced through the air and Reriic rushed toward the berserker rather than away. His movements seemed to take Jidang by surprise, because the faerie didn't attempt to adjust his swing. It turned out to be the best choice, too, because rather than the whole axe splitting his skull, all Reriic had to deal with was the back edge of it running a dangerous line down his spine. The elf felt his flesh split and cried out again, but he didn't stop moving forward. His bloodied hand shot out and Jidang was pushed off-balance by a gravity flux, taking to his knee quite suddenly. Reriic jumped onto the faerie's step-like limb and slammed his hand into the monarch's face. There was a pause of only two seconds before the faerie began screaming and the elf, in a motion not nearly as graceful as Bashirah's manoeuvres with the shovel, vaulted over his shoulders and rushed for the abandoned axe.

A thick, viscous fluid dripped from the elf's hand, but it wasn't immediately identifiable until Jidang rose to his feet and revealed that Reriic had not only rotted away a good amount of the flesh on his face with that last attack, but had also gotten one of his eyes. The milky, jelly-like fluid leaked from the ruined orb and dripped down the faerie's face, mixing with the blood and melted flesh to form a sickening ooze.

Having collected the axe, Reriic turned back to Jidang and cursed. He had been hoping to get both eyes, but one would have to do; especially since there was no possible way he could rally the strength to use more magic without the fear of it backfiring. The monarch rallied himself quickly despite having lost an eye and charged the elf again, but Reriic, rather than waiting, began his own charge.

They met in the middle and the faerie's weapon clashed with its twin violently. Reriic held his ground for the first blow, but Jidang's superior strength and prowess soon had the elf doing nothing but blocking by throwing his own axe up at angles that caused the other weapon to glance away and backing up. The exchange went on for a while before the axes struck at the right angle to spark and the elf nearly missed it in his fatigue.

"BASHIRAH!" Jidang's axe came down again, "NOW!"

[Ariiadne]

▐░ℬasℎiraℎ░▌
『 ℘rincess oƒ GRADIUS 』

Still running manically to and fro, avoiding the pummeling bludgeons as well as their wielder, Bashirah skirted dangerously close to Reriic and his faerie, watching, hoping, waiting for that spark to be made. One tiny little spark was all she needed. Of course, a full-fledged flame would be a better start, but they were at a disadvantage. The younger prince of Dradecus was already wounded, and without her shovel, Bashirah was nothing more than a useless distraction against these masses of muscle. And Bashirah hated being useless.

Finally, Reriic called out to her. Skirting along the ground as she rapidly changed direction, Bashirah’s legs kicked into full throttle. Her brow furrowed in determination as she watched one axe come down upon another. She approached from behind the large faerie, who, at this point, wasn’t doing very well. Besides his arm, parts of his face and head were rotting away from Reriic’s touch. Unsheathing her dagger once more, the princess of Gradius at long last found a use for it. Scaling the decomposing faerie’s back as it leaned into his swing.

Her feet found themselves snug on his shoulders, in the crook against his neck, and while gripping his hair to keep herself steady, her free hand was held out as three bluish-white sparks leapt into the air.

Jidang roared and thrashed, unhappy with Bashirah perched atop him. Her outstretched hand now clamped shut, she gazed down at Jidang’s face (or what was left of it) with a strange, scolding look, unaffected by his rage.

“Oh, shut up.” And with that, Bashirah raised her hand gripping his hair, which also held the dagger, and stabbed him directly through the top his skull.

His roar gradually went from that to a garbled set of sounds, his body crumbling downward gradually. Blood squirted from his wound from time to time, Bashirah tilting back to avoid the streams, brow lifted in surprise at their range, but with no other emotion to be found. This sort of brutality did nothing to her. She was absolutely numb to it.

When Jidang’s corpse had fully sunken down, a twitch here and there remaining in his wings, Bashirah did not dismount his body, instead unbuttoning her jacket. She freed her left arm from the sleeve, but she didn’t remove it entirely. Instead, she dragged the right sleeve down to her right wrist, just before her clenched hand, and wrapped it around tightly.

“Keep your guard up,” Bashirah instructed to Reriic, who didn’t look well whatsoever. She stepped down from Jidang’s back towards him. “Once I am finished with this other insect, I can—”

Her sentence was cut short by the all too familiar CRASH of Hanba landing behind her. He’d already gathered his two bludgeons, and he stared at his comrade’s dead body. It was clear by the renewed fury in his eyes that he hadn’t delivered his full power yet.

“You will pay for this,” he hissed, the veins beneath his muscles becoming more apparent as they pulsed with blood and anger.

It was at this time that the bundle wrapped around Bashirah’s fist began to smoke. The flames that began to lap at her jacket, her offering, its meal, cast a menacing light upon her face, which was warped with a sick excitement. Hanba grew even more offended by this sight. This was the insult of all insults to him. Grabbing a “piece” of the flame with her free hand, Bashirah juggled it between her fingers for a moment, savoring the heat and the power, before she brought it towards her face, parted her lips, and carried it into her mouth with her tongue. Her eyes fluttered as they rolled to the back of her head, a short moan of pleasure following. Two strong streams of smoke funneled out of her nostrils, truly dragonesque.

“YOUR VERY EXISTENCE IS A PLAGUE TO THIS WORLD, GRADIAN!” Hanba bellowed. “YOU SOIL THE EARTH AND LAELIE WITH YOUR PRESENCE!”

Bashirah let out a few cocky, yet sultry, chuckles. “Ooh,” she exhaled, “I don’t think I’m Laelie’s biggest problem at the moment.”

“Yardis – our new Yardis – will be that much more supreme when you and the rest of your people have been smothered like every other unruly flame,” Hanba fumed. “I am pleased you will be the first casualty… or… are you?”

At this, Bashirah’s expression immediately fell from her face. Her eyes drilled into him more intensely than they had before, danger swirling in her widening pupils. What did he mean exactly?

“You think Dradecus and Laelie are the only ones that have changed?” Hanba continued, uncharacteristically. “From what I’ve heard, you may very well be one of the last.”

Bashirah’s mouth carved her cheeks with an astonishing grin despite Hanba’s unsettling words. “Allow me to demonstrate why that idea is positively laughable.”

The small torch she’d created suddenly reared into a mini inferno, spreading to her other arm. Without another word, Bashirah darted for Hanba with renewed incentive. The muscular faerie shook his head and chortled, merely buckling his knees and rocketing into the fog once more.

“Oh no you don’t!”

Fire exploded beneath Bashirah’s bare feet, jettisoning her into the mist as well. Blindsighted, Hanba did not expect the various fireballs thrown his way as the princess sailed through the air. He dodged one, two, and three, but the fourth – Bashirah herself – struck him from behind. Faerie wings were surprisingly flammable. Bashirah’s whole body combusted for a short moment as she dug her nails into his monarch wings, just for good measure, before she launched again from his body as it writhed and struggled to stay afloat.

Hanba eventually crashed to the earth, roars of agony shaking the atmosphere. Just as he lifted his face from the cradle of his hands, the flat side of a shovel smacked him with extraordinary force. Vision blurred, the fire on his back extinguished by his fall, Hanba watched Bashirah’s silhouette lift the shovel above his throat. Unrelenting, she brought it down, successfully decapitating the faerie… at least partially.

“From Gradius, with love,” the princess announced nonchalantly as she dislodged her shovel from his mangled neck. Her right arm was still aflame, and the wooden shaft of the shovel had caught. Bashirah snuffed it with a quick movement, grabbing it with her left hand and carrying it away as its tip still dripped.

“I hope you’re still alive over there,” she called out to Reriic as she casually made her way back to him. Dropping the shovel at Jidang’s side, Bashirah recovered her dagger, wiped the blood on her charred skirt, and immediately plunged the blade into her flame. Panting lightly, Bashirah’s body was coated in sweat. Making a significant flame from a spark certainly took a great deal of energy, but adrenaline was still coursing through her veins. When the blade began to glow orange, she knelt beside Reriic. “Brace yourself.”

[Lord_Lazlow]

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx---- »» prince of dradecusтнє ℓα∂ιєѕ

☽xxx ❶ xxx❷xxx ❸xxx ❹xxx ❺xxx ❻ xxx❼xxx ❽xxx ❾xxx ❿xxx ☾

The monarch's final words before staying silent in the fog rang through Cin's mind. "When he comes for you, we'll kill you both. We'll use you as sacrifices to Izar, and the Kingdoms who want yours driven to the ground will revere us. Look at what has happened to Laelie, with such a small, useless sacrifice, and realize what power you and your brother will give us."

Who is Izar, what are these faeries doing, who was sacrificed, what other Kingdoms wanted their kingdoms destroyed, if the sand beast wasn't theirs then who sent it? All these questions were going over and over in his mind as he stood in silence. He wasn't exactly trying to figure out the answers to these questions, no there were others far better qualified for that than the drunken oaf of princes, but he figured this was the best way to remember the question to repeat to those individuals.

Suddenly, he heard his brother's voice carry through the fog and his captor sent guards to deal with him. Cin paced back and forth for several moments, his hands in his pockets, before finally speaking.

"What exactly do you hope to accomplish by keeping me trapped right here?" Cin asked to his captor who was still shrouded in the thick fog. "Why don't you show yourself and face me like the man you claim to be?!" Cin's voice had risen to a bit of a yell at this point. He was being toyed with and played for a fool while his brother and presumably Elya were off fighting to get to him.

Suddenly that wasn't his only concern. Through the ground Cin began to feel vibrations. Two small ones at first and then a much larger one. A few moments later he felt them again and again. Whatever they had gotten themselves into, Cin was hoping for the best for his brother and guard.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

[Jinxie_Unlucky]

~*Kiya Vaati*~

Kiya hadn't really felt the gash that bee had left in her arm until now. It wasn't even that deep, wasn't dripping blood, but the venom that coated the bee's stinger was starting to take effect. The dancer winced as she turned her arm to get a better look at it. The sleeve of her tunic was torn up worse than her arm was, but the wound felt much more painful than it looked. She tried her best to ignore it. She'd danced with a sprained wrist before; she could get through this.

As they came to the garden, Kiya looked with the others at what they were up against. They had numbers on their side, at least, but they'd still need a plan if they were going to make this work. Jean's idea of distracting the leader was certainly a start. "The leader is going to be the least likely to leave his spot, though," Kiya told the group quietly. She pointed out the guard near the entrance to the garden. "See how he pokes his head out every so often? If we can lure him out of the garden and into the forest, we'll have cover and we can get closer to him and take him out. When he doesn't come back, the leader's likely to send another guard to find out what's wrong, then another. Once he's alone, we can either go in and overwhelm him, or if he's stupid enough to leave the garden, someone can go get Princess Zaara out of there while the rest of us keep him busy out here." While none of their group may have been trained killers, she didn't doubt that they'd be able to effectively take out one monarch at a time. The element of surprise would be a great help, too.

Kiya watched as Kora sent the boulder flying at the flower, causing it to shake. This would certainly put the monarchs on edge, and make them more likely to come out and investigate should more suspicious things happen.

[Rada Han]

Kyung

Listening to his brothers screaming in pain was not something that served Kyung well mentally. Everything could be heard clearly through the fog. He was still sure, after the screams stopped, that they wouldn't find them. The only difference was that the faerie wasn't willing to face them all at once anymore. His new mission was to cripple the elf and get out of there. Although he was nervous, Kyung barely showed it, but one could tell because he'd grown quieter.

He stepped forth from the fog, showing his face to the Dradecan prince. From the fog also came three more of him, identical in appearance, indistinguishable from one another. Only one of them was the real one, but their weapons would hurt just as badly. Kill one, and they'd dissipate into smoke never to be seen again. Only the real Kyung bled.

They attacked. Kyung was large and slow. Cin, who did not have a weapon, would need to quickly find one, or use his Dradecan cleverness to outsmart the berserker, who was more brawn than brains, until his brother found him.