A Life Unknown... [IC]

"Good morrow Sir Roark and squire" said Avark, tugging on his beard and nodded his head in greeting to each in turn, "And to thee Lady de Volkan and Sir Arlight."

Not saying much more, the knight pulled the stall door open and grabbed the reins of the leviathan sized horse, leading the stallion out from his confinement. The horse snorted and stamped heavy, iron shod hooves on the floor, as he glared down the other human's standing around. That aptitude was the product of over selective breeding the aggressiveness needed for a warhorse, until the resulting colts were willing to attack anyone or anything. The beast had even tried to take a chunk out of his master's shoulder once but a few powerful slaps had convinced him that biting that human was not a good idea.

"Well Sir Arlight" chuckled Avark, "I'd let ye ride double with me but Blakkr here..."

The stallion reared up on his back hooves, the massive head of the animal nearly brushing against the ceiling and screamed a challenge. A flash of light bounced off the head of the great bearded axe, neatly tucking into the saddle straps. The knight had wisely let the reins slack and then guide his hand up into the air. Just a few seconds before the horse would have come down on his own, the muscles in the Northman's arm bulged and he pulled the beast down. Those hooves smashed into the floor with a sound like thunder booming right about the stable.

"Not so found of people" the laughing knight concluded, his face split into an award winning smile.

Nodding in thaughtfulness, Arlight respectfuly declined the offer of Avark, "I would rather like my flesh to stay on me, and I doubt this beast would permit it". Backing carfully away from the monster of Avark, "I would rather ride something less likely to eat me while I sleep". "Dont take it roughly, Sir Avark".

Ilena

The King looked over at Advark, taking the envelope and nodding. "I'm sure I can sort out this last request you have. After all, I will owe all of you if my daughter is found." He stated. "I will read it when I arrive back in my quarters."

He looked up as the Squire and Sir Roark entered and nodded to them and shortly after Lady de Volkan entered the stables to sort out her mare. Lastly, Arlight entered the stables and requested a horse. It surprised the King, that Arlight didn't have his own mount, but then he remembered what had been said about Arlight. Normally, the King wouldn't have let such a person go on this mission but Arlight had good use of illusion. They'd most likely need that to bring his daughter home.

The King nodded quickly, leading Arlight over to a brown stallion. It was young, but trained and the main thing was, that he was calm and well behaved with any person. Of course, this was true to most horses if they were looked after correctly. "Look after him. He is called Yarin. He is a good natured and well behaved stallion, but only if cared for, like any horse." He told Arlight. "But he won't eat you in your sleep."

The King watched as everyone got their mounts ready - well the stable boy got Arlight's mount ready for him but they were soon ready. "One more thing before you leave. Whatever happens, I want her brought home if found. Even if it's by force. She belongs in Ilena and if she's in Ayia then she's definitely better off here, in her true home." The King stated. "Have a safe journey and I look forward to seeing you all soon."

The King moved out of the stables and stood not far from the entrance, ready to watch them all leave, praying to whatever God watched them, that they would find something, and bring back good news.

"We should be enroute to Ayian lands, immediately", Arlight said mounting Yarin in an almost unnecessary Illusionary blur, if he hadn't fallen off of course, having not riden thrice since his knighting. "Horses", he muttered helplessly, while moving the mount to leave, hopeing that the blur would hold his honor.

Miles excused himself with a nod, and came back seconds later with a black stallion in tow. The beast stepped proudly without Miles needing to lead him. Though the others couldn't see it, the Death Faced was grinning impishly behind his scarf.

Years ago, Roark and his mount had reached a polite agreement concerning their working relationship. The horse was of noble stock, and didn't like to be coddled or fussed. This worked out perfectly as Roark would sooner take up tap dance than be seen cooing over anything with four legs--or two, for that matter. In return for this restraint, the horse was swift footed and made a point to never shy or buck. Roark didn't charge him rent for the cost of feed and stable space, so their partnership was a sound one.

If the horse had a name, he hadn't mentioned it. Thinking it rude to ask, Roark chose not to press the issue. The Death Faced also decided that simply reassigning the creature an identity was out of the question. As a result, the horse remained nameless. Both beast and rider were rather quiet. They made a compelling duo. One didn't talk much, the other didn't talk ever.

The stallion chewed on his bit, ready to be off. Recalling this secret history, Roark was still making a jagged smirk.

In Miles' other hand were the reigns to a calm dappled mare. This wasn't the same horse Loot had ridden out to the castle. The boy took in the new creature with wide eyes as she settled in next to him quite easily.

"This horse knows mountains," Roark grunted as the mare observed the others with soft brown liquid eyes, "The other wouldn't know a foothill from a stile."

Roark had brought precious few supplies. Sunlight was shafting through the doorway. Day was already getting underway. They should be getting off soon.

With a start Demetrius’s eyes snapped open, his body remaining perfectly still, ears straining to hear any disturbance, anything other than the slow breathing of his brothers in arms, any reason for his awakening. Then it slowly dawned on him. He was underground, beneath the Jolly Roger, and it was morning. The people in the bar above were stirring, that was all, no threat, no assassin in the night. Silently dropping from his bunk Demetrius quickly redressed. It had been years since he’d first taken up residence in this place, and he still wasn’t used to it, to waking up with no light, no birds chirping, no rustling trees, and no warm sun to welcome him into the new day.

As his worn but sturdy outfit fell into place the aging warrior’s hands fell upon the hilt of his blades. He wished he could bring them, to feel their familiar weight at his side, to feel them in his hands, like an extension of his form, but he could not. No one was supposed to be carrying blades besides the king’s men, and even with his loose clothing there was still the chance they’d be seen. If he got into any trouble he always carried some knives with him, so it wasn’t like he’d be walking around defenseless. With a sigh Demetrius rose to his feet and left had soon left the raggedy, inconspicuous bar in his wake, replacing the silence and darkness of the underground for the relative bustling of the streets above.

The streets of Ayia during the day were different than those of Illena. The people still walked the streets in mass. The merchants still displayed their wares. The steady clacking of horseshoes could still be heard as they struck the pavement. But the horses were thin, their ribs displaying the state they and their masters were in. The merchants watched passerbyers with suspicion and fear, suspicious of a pickpocket or thief, afraid of a knight or one who would confiscate their already meager wares. And the people….the people were something else. Some were peasants, beaten, afraid, and accepting of their fate. A few were the king’s men, sent out to keep a watchful eye on the happenings of his “people”. Many were thieves, pickpockets, and muggers, looking out for themselves, pushed to the extreme by the brutality and unforgiving harshness of Ayia. And some, some of the people were something more. Beaten, abused, and forgotten they had taken all the pain, all the fear, all the hatred, and made themselves something more. Those were the ones he sought day by day as the months passed. That had become his personal mission; find those that would stand apart from the rest, those that would fight for what they believed in. For now he did what he could to help those that would be helped, but in the future? They could be the ones to bring about chance…..the change this land was in so desperate need of.

Finally spotting what he’d been looking for, a small set of old wood chimes, Demetrius lightly brushed past the throngs of people bustling through the streets to come before a small gypsy stand. Outside the once colorful curtains a weathered, worn out man sat like just another beggar. Acknowledging the disguised sentry with a subtle tilt of his head Demetrius headed into the small enclosure. No perfumes, fancy globes or mysterious paintings confronted him as he entered the dwelling of the soothsayer, as would have in any such place in Illena. Weathered and sun bleached curtains were all that shone in this meager abode. Yet just the same he did not come seeking the words of some false seer, nor did the women herself seek any more attention than necessary. Her name was Madame Esther, and she was the one you talked to if you wanted something. Anything contraband, illegal, or just generally hard to find was her specialty, and for a small fee she could get it. Over the years her business had reached the point where she could pick up what little belongings she had and make her way out of Ayia, to live out her days in peace and comfort in Illena, yet that was not her way. She, like Samuel, loathed the tyrant king, and would stay for as long as she could aid those that fought him.

Smiling Demetrius quickly exchanged a small purse of coins with her, hastily tucking the objects she gave in return beneath his loose garment. That was it, no small talk, no friendly gestures, just business, that’s all either of them had time for anymore. Slipping out another entrance Demetrius was quickly absorbed by the bustling crowd. Normally his life was filled to the brim with reconnaissance, secret meetings, or other treasonous activities, but with the knights coming he would be leaving soon, possibly by early this evening, and he figured he’d earned a bit of his own time. Leaving the city limits in his wake Demetrius soon found himself amongst the wood, woods that felt…..felt like home. These woods were little different than those of Illena. The wildlife was less prone to coming near, the birds fell silent at your approach, but….it was the closest he could get, the closest he’d been to home in a long time.

As the trees grew thicker and the distant sounds of the city slowly shriveled to nothingness another sound soon took form; the sound of a stream. The sound it made was music to his ears. The stream was a creature beyond the laws, the oppression, the sadness of Ayia, it was a being all its own. Its path, its freedom would not follow the ways of man; it took its own path, sloshing around joyously at its simple, carefree way of life. Dropping low like a frog the lone figure, out of place with his drab, lifeless garb sat and watched the currents pass him by, fish swimming along, immune to the downtrodden ways of the city so near.

Digging into his loose clothing Demetrius retrieved one of the fist sized orbs he’d retrieved from Esther. Lowering it to the slow running stream he rubbed off what dirt and grime it had received in its short stay in his pocket, before bringing it up to eye level. Peering at it almost inquisitively he brought it to his waiting mouth, taking a hefty bite out in one smooth motion. Chewing thoughtfully Demetrius savored the tart taste of the apple, his eyes peering out across the stream before him. Fruit was hard to come by in Ayia, and Esther was one of the few that could keep a reliable supply. Breaking into a smile as the sweet, almost sugary juices trickled down into his beard Demetrius wondered at how his time at Ayia had changed him. He’d learned to truly appreciate the little things. Having a safe, warm place to sleep, being able to keep enough food on the table, being able to trust that a random person walking in the street meant you no harm. Ayia had changed him…..and hopefully….hopefully he’d be able to help change it before everything was over with.

The massive horse behind Avark snorted and stamped his big hooves, as his ears shot straight up and swiveled forwards. True the big fella had been smelling the other horse (mare and stallion alike) all night but now he could seem them. The scent of mares made the big beast frisky, causing him to prance almost in place and slowly start to push his master forwards with his broad chest firmly on the man's shoulder. The arrival of two stallions into his range of view however, set the brute into an automatic attack mode, with more two screams and several snaps towards them.

"Blakkr" growled the big knight, "Cut that out."

The horse paid no attention to the human.

"Blakkr" growled the knight, "Leave them alone"

No change in equine behavior.

"Blakkr" growled Avark, turning slightly to stare at his mount and grab one of the ears of the beast, who promptly tried to bite his master. The knight gave the ear on his hand a vicious twist, causing the big horse to squeal in pain and stamp his left forehoof on the floor three times, in rapid secession.

"I'm glad we have an understanding" said the bearded knight, releasing ear, "Now leave them alone or next time I take the ear off."

The big stallion glared at everyone and everything, as he was lead out of the stable and stood like a ridged statue as his master swung himself up into the plain saddle. A series of antsy prances was cut short by a light touch on his sore ear, in a wordless warning that anymore trouble was not acceptable.

"By your leave my king" said Avark, bowing to his overlord from his saddle.

The dappled mare had blinked twice at these new developments. Roark still had that jagged little grin on his face as he swung up into the saddle of his own beast and motioned for Loot to do the same.

"We should reach Cains by nightfall." Roark grunted shortly, and looked to his fellow knights for some assent.

The stallion eyed Avark's steed with what was unmistakably a haughty eye, and seemed to practically be laughing when the Laughing Knight took firm hold of the poor brute's ear. Roark's mount was so amused, in fact, that he tossed his head and whinnied rather scathingly.

Loot, on the other hand, hadn't seen anything less funny in his life. First of all, the horse was mean spirited, yes? Secondly, he'd had his own ears twisted a good number of times and it hurt! The youth winced in sympathy with the chided beast, and looked around at the others assembled.

Ilena

The King nodded, looking to see if all the Knights were ready, and they were. With a second nod, he allowed them to leave and confirmed it with his voice. "Leave, and have a safe journey ahead of you." He told them.

After watching them all depart, he stood there for a long moment, then once he could see them no more, the King turned around and headed to his quarters. A long wait ahead of him was left. The King knew that it would be a while before he got any news, but he hoped that this year would be the year that he received news. Anything to end the pain of not knowing what happened.

Ayia

It wasn't long before Jazz had finished tacking her horse up and had led him out of the stables. Midnight was magnificent. Around 16 hands and pitch black in colour, he was definitely fit for a princess and his coat gave him his name. Jazz was proud of him.

She easily got herself onto the the stallion before kicking him into a gallop. Jazz was glad that she'd dressed in her riding gear now, instead of one of the big dresses. It was harder to ride in a dress. This is what Jazz loved to do best and right now, she wasn't with anyone. It was perfect. For a good thirty minutes Jazz had Midnight gallop around the courtyard before deciding that she wanted more. While she was alone she wanted to go further.

It was easy for Jazz to leave the grounds. Without knowing how much fear her father put into people, she idly threatened telling her father when she got to the guards at the gates. It was that simple. The guards didn't ask any questions though, despite normally having her own guards with her, she was allowed through with no questions asked, especially when she stated that her father had said so. With how the King ran things here, it was better not to question things, if they did and the King became angry, they knew that that could equal death and they didn't want to go there. Little did they know that the Princess was just giving idle threats and if the Prince or King found out, death would be closer than they thought.

Honestly, Jazz hadn't thought it would be that easy to get out of the castle, but it was. Even out of the castle gates the place was still like the inside, well cared for and green. It was when you got to the stream and the woods that this seemed to stop. Not having been out of the Palace grounds, Jazz smiled at the fact that she was now. Slowing Midnight down to a walk, she took time to take it all in, taking in every little detail around her.

It wasn't long before Jazz entered the woods and came to a small stream. Getting off of Midnight she led him over allowing him to have a long drink from the cold water. Something she was sure that he found refreshing. At least she wouldn't be ruining an expensive dress, she thought.

"That nice Midnight?" Jazz asked him, smiling as he snorted to her. "Yes, I bet it is." She had no idea if he understood what she'd said or not, or if the reply was in agreement. She pretended to though. "I bet it's nice for you as much as it is for me to finally get out from the grounds. We mustn't go telling father though, or Shane. It's a secret between me, you and the guards at the gate." She laughed, walking around and exploring a little.

It didn’t appear Marissa wished to leave the water anytime soon. While Lisa set to work scrubbing their clothes clean on the side of the bank, she also kept a watch over her out of the corner of her eye. While the clean water was only about two or so feet deep, and seriously doubted Marissa was going to drown herself, one never knew what could happen when they weren’t watching. She was happy to see Marissa happily slashing in the water though, as it was the most energy she’d seen in the child for a long while. Perhaps it was due to their surprisingly hearty meal last night. It was a good sign.

“Wow, wow there, none of that! I’m in dry clothes here.” Lisa said half laughing, as Marissa crept closer in the water and started splashing to get her wet. Lisa’s reaction only served to entertain Marissa, who broke out into a fit of giggles. That melodic sound was cut off however by the more common sound of her sickly coughs.

“Ok, I think it’s time you come out of there and get dry. You heard the doctor, you’re suppose to be staying out of the chill.” Lisa said grabbing the other drying cloth and holding it up for her. Marissa however only pouted at the news and submerged herself slightly.

“Oh, are we a water nymph today? If you don’t be careful one just might spirit you off one of these days.” Lisa said, appealing to the girl’s love of stories, and wiggling her eyebrows a bit to add effect.

“Anywhere but here.” Marissa replied with a look in her eyes that no child as young as Marissa should have there. It was the same look that had once lived in her own eyes, and sometimes even now did.

“Or perhaps I just won’t tell the story of the missing Princess tonight.” Lisa jabbed as casually as if she’d just commented about the weather, not even bothering to look Marissa’s way as she spoke. It was a threat that held a lot more weight. Almost immediately, she heard splashing as Marissa rushed out of the water onto the bank to begin drying off and dressing. Lisa couldn’t help smiling lightly. Over the years she’d collected quite a few stories from passing, and it never ceased to amaze her how much the group loved them. It was perhaps the only pleasure the king could not take away from them. The tale of the missing princess was also Marissa’s unquestionable favorite.

“Lisa…can you tell the story now?” Marissa asked, turning her big brown eyes on Lisa.

“You’re going to hear it tonight, why now?” Lisa asked, ringing out her now somewhat clean shirt and laying it out to dry while starting on her pants.

“But Branson always interrupts the story, I like it better when you’re just telling me stories.” Marissa pleaded. Lisa sighed in defeat playing it up for dramatic effect.

“Oh alright alright, but you’ve got to promise to get better and do as the doctor says. Deal?” Lisa said pinning the child with a no nonsense look. Marissa shook her head eagerly in acceptance of Lisa’s terms, before laying back against the ground. The sun had come out a bit and shown down on her face and illuminating her damp curls.

“Not so long ago, in a land not so far away, there was a Kingdom named Ilena. This Kingdom was much different than our own, the King was kind and shared his wealth with the people, the land was lush and green, and there was always food for people to eat. The King was happily married to and equally happy Queen, and everyone in the land was happy. Soon the Queen became with child, and the happy kingdom was blessed with a beautiful princess. It seemed the happiness of the kingdom would last forever, but alas tragedy struck. The Queen, so beloved by her people, was murdered, and the beautiful infant princess had been kidnapped.” Lisa started, and as always Marissa gave a little gasp at that part.

“No one knows who killed the Queen and stole away the princess, but the kindly King has never stopped looking, hoping to find his daughter, and has searched for nineteen long years. Some even say that out mysterious princess, is really the daughter of the kindly King and murdered Queen because our own queen’s death doesn’t match with the Princesses birth date, but there is really no way to tell. Perhaps one day the mystery will be revealed.” Lisa finished for now. Some times she left the story be for the legend it was, and other times she even concocted an ending for the tale; some happy some not. She could tell by the look on Marissa’s face she’d wanted an ending.

“But if the princess really is the Kindly king’s daughter, why doesn’t she run away to find him? Doesn’t she want to been with him? Why would she want to live here?” Marissa asked confused.

“For starters, even if the rumor is true, who says she knows anything about it?” Lisa said turning the question back at her. “Also keep in mind the princess lives in the palace, likely wears lots of very nice clothes, and eat fine food three times a day everyday.” Lisa reminded her.

“Everyday?! Even meat and bread?!” Marissa asked astonished at the idea. After living off one meal a day of grain slop and potatoes if they were lucky her whole life, it was hard to imagine.

“Don’t get too jealous though. Keep in mind who she has to live with.” Lisa said smiling at the unspoken dig in at the tyrant king and prince, and the face Marissa made.

So, that was it then. Roark made to spur the sides of his horse, but the creature had already been listening and was off like a shot. Loot was a bit slower on the uptake, but the mare was full of good sense and trotted out right smartly behind the larger stallion.

It took about fifteen minutes to wind through the King's stables and then back out through the Royal City. The people yearned to meet them, but wisely pressed to the side of the streets to better make way. Cheers went up for the noble knights, hearty yells and shouts of well-wishing and prayer. Sir Miles Elrik Roark knew these cries were tinged with an undertone of uncertainty. None of the Knights who were sent out on this particular mission came back successful.

That didn't daunt the Death Faced. He tightened his grip on the black horse's reigns. The beast seemed to be drinking in the attention more than it's stoic rider. Again, the commonfolk were rooting for the Laughing, for the Lady de Volkan, but not for him. Behind the scarf his mangled jaw tightened painfully.

The five horses made quite a clamor with their iron hooves on the city cobblestone. It echoed and bounced off the narrow--yet widening--streets. Ahead, Loot saw the drawbridge being lowered, and knew that this was it.

With the Death Faced and Loot bringing up the rear, the Knights left the Royal City and made a thunderous left--on to the winding and dangerous path towards the troubled country of Ayia.

Sitting silently Demetrius was absorbed in the peace and tranquility of nature and the stream before him. His mind no longer drifted to the trails yet to come, or the difficulties now left in the past, he was calm, unworried, and thanks to Esther’s fruit, quite content. Yet like everything else it could not last forever. Like a great knife cleaving into his mind the silence and tranquility of his little world was split apart, shattered before a sound originating upstream. Taken completely off guard his mind immediately snapped into action. When his conscious mind finally caught up with years of paranoia and deeply rooted reflexes Demetrius found himself standing back to a tree, a knife in each hand. His heart beating a mile a minute he slowly calmed himself as his mind registered the noise.

It was laughter. High pitched, rapid, delighted laughter. While rather rare in Ayia it was far from something to be feared. Breathing a sigh of relief and breaking it to silent laughter at his own jumpiness Demetrius slipped the knives back into their conveniently placed holders at stepped away from the large tree. It was strange to hear laughter in these parts. Considered dangerous due to its proximity to the palace few ventured out here, and those that often did were not the sort to be laughing in such a way, as pleasant as such a thing may be. If it was someone from the palace they would likely be surrounded by bodyguards, but just the same Demetrius couldn’t help but investigate. He was curious, and besides, it was his day off.

Taking out another chunk of the already mangled apple he headed upriver, towards where he’d heard the sound. As he got closer, he heard voices, and then, quietly, he slipped past the last few trees and finally came in sight of the disturbance, if it could be called that. Before him sat two girls, one, very young, likely the source of the elated laughter, laying on the ground, listening, while the other, sat to her side, telling a story of some sort. She looked familiar, but right now he just couldn’t quite place her, his mind was still in a jumble since he’d nearly jumped out of his skin moments ago. Off to their side, still relatively hidden in the thickness of the forest he slowly stepped forward, less and less trying to conceal his approach, and more and more trying to not interrupt the story, as it slowly unfolded before him.

“Soon the Queen became with child, and the happy kingdom was blessed with a beautiful princess. It seemed the happiness of the kingdom would last forever, but alas tragedy struck. The Queen, so beloved by her people, was murdered, and the beautiful infant princess had been kidnapped. No one knows who killed the Queen and stole away the princess, but the kindly King has never stopped looking, hoping to find his daughter, and has searched for nineteen long years.”

As the story continued Demetrius silently sat upon an old rock, brushed smooth by the ages. He knew this story, had watched it unfold before his very eyes. He couldn’t have been much older than the eldest of the girls when it had all first happened. The time….the time had been hard on the people of Illena, going from joyous celebration and incredible good will to a time deep in fear and suspicion, after all, if the king’s wife and daughter were not safe, whose were? Those had been hard times…..he’d joined the guard not long after, and then left for his present post three years later…..those had been troubled times….

As the story finished Demetrius just sat there, his mind fouled, stuck in days gone by. Across his face the shining smile and former bliss were now gone. After all these years he’d….not forgotten….just…not thought of it. The reasons he’d joined. Not just to help people here and there, but to really make a difference, to really do something. The remnants of his apple, along with his present position, now forgotten the lone figure sat, silently, pondering the years now lost. His eyes downtrodden, cast upon the forest floor, his face sunk into one of brooding and discomfort, pondering his life, and all that could….should have been. He’d spent these last few years just going along, doing what he needed to, maybe even going out of his way a bit, but he’d lost the spark, lost the real urge to change things. Funny what Ayia could do to a man with enough time…..

Avark wore no spurs and only gently touched the heels of his well made boots to the flanks of Blakkr to get the spirited stallion to moving. It was part of their understanding, no spurs on the heel of the knight and the vicious horse would stop from trying stamping on the man's feet, each time he detacked the beast. It made the best of the situation between those powerful personalities, whom would forever duel, even after they both passed on to the halls of the dead.

As they rode through the city (at the head of the little procession, as the stallion was not able to settle for second best), the big knight pulled the axe from his saddle and held the great weapon over his head, shaking it with vigor. His signature booming laugh echoed off buildings and the very cobblestones, as the commons cheer for them. It was a grand send off and one he would very much like to duplicate upon their return, with the missing princess in tow.

After the knights and lone squire had traveled far enough that the city had dwindled into the size of a child's toy, the big man and horse had fallen back into the group from their point at the head and took to being besides the only lady among them (and her mare, which Blakkr was happy enough for). For several long moments, the man studied Lady de Volkan.

"My lady" said Avark, at last, "Pray tell, are you going to insist on claiming that knitting needle on your hip is a weapon? I know several corpses that got buried from running their mouths around me and then showing up to the duel with a rapier. I must say, a good arming sword or better yet a handaxe would have been a better choice in armament, even if it was a lighter training weapon made ready for battle."

Alexander winced as the front door creaked audibly as though in protest. He was up far earlier than usual, in fact, his mother and siblings would have been very surprised to find his bed empty of the body they so often had to drag across the floor every morning. Contrary to popular belief, he too could feel enough anxiety to have a restless night. It didn’t happen very often, since he always thought that worrying did nothing but add to the problem, but just the thought of his father finding out about his loss was…

With an involuntary shudder, he quietly exited the house. He walked several steps away before sighing and returning to close the door. Yet another loud creak was heard, as expected. Unfortunately, for him, the possibility of a stranger simply walking into their home before everyone else awoke was giving him far more discomfort than being caught sneaking out.

Rubbing his tired eyes which had even darker bags than usual, he silently cursed, ’That stupid brat, I hope she suffers double of what I probably will. Though it’s not likely, not after taking all of my money like that.’ He wondered just how long he could continue to dodge his family about this. Probably not too long. The king didn't pay them much, and the 'pay' mostly consisted of food or, on rare occasions, some sort of tool they could use or sell. After losing so much at once, he was sure he wouldn't retain much of his normal skin color once his father found out.

Walking a little faster than usual, Alexander considered his options. It was far too early to meet the knight training him and practicing by himself was something he almost never did, much to the discontent of his teacher. Wandering around aimlessly was also out of the question in case he ran into more dangerous thugs (who would probably never believe him if he told them he was broke) or even one of his family members. As he continued along the street, a small growl broke his small train of thought. "Right…" He mumbled aloud, "I’d skipped dinner last night too."

He decided to head over to the palace. He was quite sure that Jazz would be able, and more willing than anyone else, to help him get a small snack at the very least. Alexander definitely tried to avoid asking any sort of favors from the royal siblings, Shane especially, but surely just once or twice every few years would be alright?

Leaving Ilena in the distance made the Ayian born knight quite cold, hearing the joyful cheers as they paraded by, seeing the happy people, the hopefulness, made Sir Arlight nearly sick. Having left the noise returned a great deal of ease to his mind, and would have remained if two of his "companions" didn't deside to judge the weight of their swords, "By the gods, what makes now a good time to fight", He said to himself, pulling a dagger from his belt of five, opposite from his own rapier, "Why must I travel with them, father" he said to it, having not replied, he continued to hold it up by its grip, now watching the other knights bicker.

“Lisa…do you think they’ll even find the missing princess?” Marissa asked, sitting up. Marissa rarely spoke this often, but whenever stories were concerned, she became a chatter box filled with questions regrettably, Lisa couldn’t always answer. It was also no secret among their group that Marissa was a compulsive daydreamer, whether to escape the pain of her still unclear past, or simply to ignore the bleak reality of the poverty surrounding them she didn’t know. It was never something she’d done in excess, having kept her mind busy on the present. How to survive now and go about doing it, had been what she’d lived by, but she supposed everyone had a different way of coping.

“I don’t know.” Lisa stated honestly. “I was only a baby myself when all that happened. Mostly, they’re just stories I’ve heard from people on the border towns.” Lisa continued on. Marissa appeared mildly disappointed with her response, but not downtrodden.

“My mommy told me that story too, so it’s gotta be true. Did your mommy tell you stories Lisa?” Marissa asked. Well that certainly explained why she was so fond of the missing princess story. Her question however, was a bit of a sore spot for Lisa. In all honesty she had very little memory of either of her parents, though close to nothing when it concerned her mother, and she wasn’t the only one. No one in their area had any recollection of her mother, or even a possible identity. At least they’d been able to remember her father the blacksmith. The closest thing to a memory she had (and she didn’t even know if that could be counted as a memory) was a gentle feminine voice and a wisp of blond hair. It was hardly enough to tell her anything about her mother.

“I never knew my mother…but hey, she had to be a really beauty to get a catch like my dad.” Lisa finished with a forced smile. Perhaps that was even true. She’d heard endlessly from the old wash women how handsome and kind her father had been, though it seemed the only real detail they could supply. In truth, it was mildly disgusting to hear old crones rave on about her father (who determined with simple math work was much younger than these women) like he had been the town’s personal eye candy.

Marissa also seemed unsatisfied with that response, but said no more on the matter. Instead, her eyes roomed over to the steam and simply watched for a moment with a slightly dreamy look. “One day…I’m going to runaway and live in Ilena where everything is pretty and happy. I’ll marry a good knight and we’ll have a house with plenty of food and kids and we’ll never have to worry about Ayia again.” Marissa said with determination shining in her eyes.

“I’m glad you’ve got it all planned out.” Lisa said quietly, not wanting to discourage the girl. I just wish I did too, she thought to herself. Ilena did sound wonderful in comparison to Ayia(well anywhere did for that matter), but getting there was by no means easy, and even f you did manage to get there, it was no secret that the Ilenan people thought them all filthy and inferior. Even if one was funded enough to get to Ilena what then? A life condemned to being a second class citizen, or blend in and hiding your heritage? It was not something that appealed to her.


Lisa’s attention was drawn elsewhere however, as a flicker of movement caught her eye in the foliage off to their side. In one quick clean motion, Lisa drew the blade from her belt holster defensively, and protectively positioned herself in front of Marissa.

“I know you’re there, so you might as well come out!” Lisa called after giving Marissa a look that told her to run without her if it turned out to be someone threatening.

“One day…I’m going to runaway and live in Ilena where everything is pretty and happy. I’ll marry a good knight and we’ll have a house with plenty of food and kids and we’ll never have to worry about Ayia again.”

“I know you’re there, so you might as well come out!”

Breaking from his silently revere the now seemingly aged figure rose slowly. Stepping forward Demetrius lightly brushed away the foliage before him, stepping into the light of the high sun. His eyes brushing over the drawn dagger wearily Demetrius looked to the smaller of the two girls, her words ringing in his head.

“Ilena….is a wonderful place….but there is nothing there, that you should not have here….do not forget your own land so quickly….”

His eyes downcast for a moment, seemingly deep in thought Demetrius’s eyes snapped back up, eying the guarded girl before him.

“You…I remember you….”

A thin smile creeping across his weathered features Demetrius gave her another looking over, perhaps she was more than a simple pick-pocket.

“Lisa she said….I remember you from the other day, helping the king’s man with his little burden.”

Chuckling lightly he thought back to the other day. He’d almost stepped in, but she’d managed to handle herself pretty well.

“It’s nice to see that there’s more to you than meets the eye.”