Soul Alight

[Mari]

Closed to Shinsou - All bunnying approved
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Stein clinked against stein in celebration. The quaint wooden mess hall sprightly with rowdy cheers, jeers, and leers. A hearth roared with a large fire in the back of the room basking it in a merry warmth that rivalled the sheer cold of the outside in its extremity. Bountiful plates of food sat upon the large, centre table; headless cooked meats, piles of freshly made bread, pies, soups, and produce. 10 bandits in total were joining in the jovial festivities. Two more seemed reluctant and kept to themselves on an empty table. A modest amount of food and drink before them, they were engaged in their own, quiet conversation. Away from the rest of the gang.

By the fire sat a large, uncut boulder attached to a thick, metal chain. The chain was long enough to reach any side of the food hall. Extending into the kitchen, toward the back room. The other end of the chain was attached to Amari’s waist, wrapping around her hips and crossing over and between her breasts. A large silver padlock sat in the middle of the cross. Snapping it all tightly together. A precaution that was set in place after Fenn's escape.

The group of bandits were getting well beyond the limits of drunk. The cause for their celebration? Four new girls. Ones they would sell to slavers, or brothels. One was a virgin, and was due to head toward the Church of Etheral Sway. The others, well - the bandits were sure to have their fun with them. Two of the bandits broke free of the group, promising to bring their acquisitions to 'join' the festivities.


“C’mon pet, pour us another!”

Amari approached the bandit, and frowned. “The hell? It’s half full. Fuck off.” She turned to walk away but was grabbed roughly by the arm and pulled back till she landed on the table, belly up. The action made the crowd cheer, and the bandit poured the rest of his drink over Amari’s white blouse, grinning as it became see through. “There, now is’ empty, pour us another.” He let her go, with a slap to her ass.

“Careful, ‘er curse may get ya.” Another shouted out.

“A ol’ slap here or grab there ain’t hurt me yet.” He said with a laugh, watching as a dripping red-headed Amari walked off to top up his stein.

Amari gritted her teeth, fuming, furious. Angry that she couldn’t do anything, that she was trapped in this hell hole. That she was so close, yet so far to escape. Sure, she could use the kitchen utensils, perhaps do away with one or two of them - but they’d quickly overpower her. She was powerless and useless to stop their ridicule.

[Shinsou Vaan Osiris]

All bunnying from hereon in approved.

The road from Knife’s Edge was an icy, desolate place that was choked by silence. The only noises were the granulated patter of snow and a cold and steadily howling northern wind, one that Shinsou felt cut through his shoulders even as he pulled his leather greatcoat around him. What remained of the dusk had been smothered completely by a sheet of thick wintry clouds, and now only the shining blade of Stygian could provide Osiris with a light, one that could not be stifled thanks to the enchantment sung into it by the high bard of Raiaera. Slepnir, the horse he acquired some weeks ago, marched on unflinching, its sharp eyes using the light to seek potential hazards.

This time his journey was for Am’aleh, the goddess of the sea that Joshua Cronen had connected him with a few months ago. Shinsou was tracking a powerful group of slavers who carried themselves with a certain brutality. A well organised and well armed gang had broken into a convent and beaten, raped and enslaved four of Am’aleh’s devout followers as recompense for the fall of the temple of Draconus on Lornius. Though Shinsou had always held that right and wrong were ambiguous depending on a person’s viewpoint, it wasn’t an altogether foreign concept to him that a form of pure, unquestionable evil existed in the world and this assault on Am’aleh’s house was as close to that as could be.

“Steady, Slepnir…” Osiris cautioned as he saw a sheet of ice ahead in the magical light, steering the reigns to signal the beast below him to circumvent the path instead. A smile spread across his face as Slepnir’s change of direction allowed him to see his destination ahead; a small, almost insignificant village that seemed to be propped up the Salvic wastes rather than built.

Money, power, women… none of them ever saturate. That’s what Storm Veritas said to me when we went to Whitevale. Perhaps he was right…this collection of pond-life will never stop unless they are forced to.

His thoughts swirled as Osiris considered his new direction in life. Doubtless, he had never been an entirely evil thing but there had been times where the Telgradian had allowed the line to be blurred to serve him some greater purpose. His meeting with the demi-god Joshua Cronen and the goddess Am’aleh had changed him for the better. Where he had walked and often crossed the line, they had never strayed from it.

But that isn’t who you are, Shinsou. As you said to Veritas, we must always have contrast to be able to have understanding, and not just have adherence to a single idea of right and wrong. Categorization is the remit of history and it is history that will decide what kind of legacy we left long after we're gone, not individual people who themselves have no right to judge.

His golden eyes narrowed behind the falling snow as he thought upon these matters. Perhaps he would be better placed to measure his own place in the world after this task.

[Mari]

Amari returned from the kitchen - her breath stilled in her throat at the scene before her. Her hands shook with a myriad of emotions. Fear, anger, and a deep seeded feeling of utter uselessness. One of the girls whom the bandits had captured earlier was being forced onto the table.

Her tiny bruised form barely struggled against the three men who held her down. Dirtied blonde hair spilled out over the wooden table across piles of scattered food. Her screams muffled by a dirtied rag in her mouth. Amari felt her blood boil. Her eyebrows furrowed, and a soft glow formed from the golden flecks that surrounded her irises. Flaring in anger and disgust. How did it shift from celebration to such...debauchery? Her grip on the two drinks she held tightened. Tiny fists shaking in rage.

Useless.

She was utterly useless to help.

No She thought to herself, finding a resolve she thought she had lost.

She stormed over toward the bandits with newfound vigour.

I refuse to be useless.

As the chained woman neared the debauchery and depravity she rose one of the heavy, liquid filled steins over her head. Liquid sloshed out, splashing her and garnering the attention of one of the bandits. "The HELL-" She slammed one stein down against a head, the bandit fell backward, dazed. Blood oozed from cuts as the heavy glass shattered against his thick skull. Amari dropped the handle. "DO YOU THINK-" She slammed the second down on another head, "YOU'RE DOING?"

Out of weapons, Amari grabbed a chair and broke it against the back of a third bandit. The girl was free, but it didn't seem to register with her. Amari, forgetting her own dire predicament picked up the tiny girl by the wrist with one hand, and pried the rag out of her mouth with the other. Amari tugged on her wrist, urging her to the door. "What are you doing? RUN!" Her voice was filled with a quickened urgency. Praying that she would snap out of it long enough to at least attempt to make a run for it.

"I'll distract them. Please. Just go."

The girl turned to Amari, blue eyes widening in shock. "Y-yes!" her high voice stuttered, and cracked. Signs of abuse and dehydration. She gave Amari one last look a mixture of thanks and fear dotting vivid sapphire eyes. She turned and bolted for the door.

Thank goodness.. Amari thought to herself as she saw the last flicker of golden hair disappear out of the door and into the night. She watched with relief, but couldn't shake the deep feeling of regret in the bottom of her stomach. Twice now...she had helped captives escape, yet still she remained here. Chained. Alone. Forever stuck in this hellhole. Her bottom lip quivered. The golden haired woman had not only escaped, but she tore apart what tattered remains of hope Amari had. Inadvertently driving home the realisation that Amari would never. Ever escape.

"That's Enough outta yer, slave."

The gruff voice snapped her from her melancholy stupor.

A large burly bandit with toned arms covered in scars and burns gripped Amari by her hair. The sudden and jostling pain caused her to scream. Adrenaline coursed through her veins, she had heard these men take the poor women before, and Amari hated herself for it. She hated that she was trapped, bound in chains and locks - and wasn't able to aid the women, but now was not the time to wallow in self pity. Now? Now she was able to do something. She was able to at least attempt to offer the girl some respite. A chance to flee. "Get your FILTHY hands offa ME!" Amari cried out. All she had to do, was continue to provide a distraction.

"Yer forget yer place." She was slammed against the side of the table. Her head throbbed and splinters of ceramic plate grazed her head. Thin trickles of blood slid down her forehead and down her cheek. SLAM Her head was forced against the wooden table again. This time leaving a smear of blood. After a third time, the burly man let her go. Amari stumbled, collapsing to the ground. Clutching her head tightly. The room swam and her vision blurred. Spots danced in front of her eyes.

I'll never escape this... Her eyes glanced up, watching the scene unfold before her.

"Thom, Jack." The large man signalled to the two bandits who were quietly chatting amongst themselves. "Go after the blonde." The two exchanged glances before silently getting up and leaving the mess hall.

"As fer you." He leaned down toward Amari. "Curse be damned, ye just cost us some fun."

Amari lifted her pounding head. I will never escape this...but I will never let them win. She spat a mixture of blood, spit and mucus at the man. "Go to HELL Gabe!"

Gabe wiped the spit from his face. His lips turned down into a sneer. "Right." He seethed as he picked her up by her arm and slung her onto the table. "Who wants ter take a chance with the diseased slut?"


---

Thom and Jack walked side by side. "Yo, Jack. We actually goin' ta bring her back to that shit fest?"

Jack shook his head, offering his compatriot. His friend, and his lover a small smile. "Nay, lets find her- get her someplace warm, and just say she slipped on the ice and fell into the lake. I really don't need to smell any more foul sweaty sex crazed men tonight."

"Ah, you hurt me so. Do our nights together mean nothing?" Thom feigned a hurt tone, before his eyes fell on the girl - not too far ahead. "Aye. Let's discuss that later though."

The two approached the shivering girl, she appeared to have indeed, fallen down. Her ankle swollen, twisted. Jack took off his Jacket and wrapped it around her whilst Thom began tearing up parts of his shirt to help with her wound. The girl weakly struggled against the two, but to no avail.

"Aye, dont worry. We ain't like them. We just want ta get ya someplace warm n' safe." Thom muttered. "Gotta hand it to Amari. She's a fiesty one."

Jack chuckled, "Damn. It's why I don't touch women, they're too wild."

"Shut it."

Thom's tone was sharp, sudden. He rose, taking a defensive stance in front of Jack and the girl. "I think someone's comin'."

[Shinsou Vaan Osiris]

If it was possible to be drenched with the cold, Shinsou was saturated. Even for a man acclimatised to harsh conditions, the Telgradian hoped that there was some sort of respite waiting for him at his destination or else he would have travelled miles in the darkness of the Salvic wastes to be of no use to anyone. His joints ached where the freezing temperatures had penetrated his clothes, his eyes were sore from adjusting to the contrast of Stygian’s light on a background of jet black night and his face stung from the needle like hail that now fell about him in torrents.

As he continued to ride Slepnir closer to the village, Stygian’s illumination revealed the shadowy outlines of three people on the frozen path’s horizon. With every trot forward, Shinsou’s eyes focused on the small and unassuming village behind them; a rural town that bled into its surroundings, but the man couldn’t help but be distracted by what appeared to be some sort of scuffle between the triumvate of silhouettes up ahead. The buzz of chatter broke the silence as Slepnir paced itself and drew close to the group.

Drunks, I’ll bet. The Telgradian mused to himself as he finally made out the features of one of the men. Wait, hang on…

His eyes swept through the hail, across the visages of the two men and then finally down to the injured woman. At first it seemed that they were helping the girl, wrapping bandages about her damaged ankle made from their own clothes, but the lady resisted somewhat. They didn’t look drunk; instead, the two men looked genuinely concerned whilst the woman looked on with eyes full of sadness and fear. Shinsou could read situations well, but this somehow didn’t fit. The cold air across his wet clothes was an uncomfortable feeling and drove urgency into his situation – he didn’t want to be out in the cold for too much longer, but his curiosity was piqued.

“Are you ok?” The Telgradian shouted through the cacophony of the hailstorm, an arm raised to shield his face from the bombardment of hail.

“We’re fine, she just fell.” The gentleman on the left, a heavy set man with a snow-dusted goatee and a torn shirt, kept his gaze fixed down at the blonde girl in the road. “Yeah, it’s slippery as hell out here” The gentleman on the right tacked on as he wrapped his jacket about her. Even from atop Slepnir, Shinsou could see the blonde’s big, fearful eyes begging for some sort of intervention. Stygian’s light revealed bruises that told a much different story than he was getting from the men. It seemed the lies were coming in fast and furiously.

What, she slipped and smashed her face off three consecutive fists?

A frown crossed Shinsou’s face. Regardless of the obvious bullshit he was being fed, the girl looked like she needed medical attention and the Telgradian had little time to waste on distractions from the task at hand. It may not have been any of his business, but discretion always proved the better part of valor.

“Do you have a doctor in that town?” Shinsou asked, pointing ahead.

The two men looked at each other as if the Telgradian had said something absurd.

”Right, then.” The different possibilities bounced around his head as Shinsou considered his options. “Help her onto my horse. Slepnir will get her to Knife’s Edge in a couple of hours. Here…” The Telgradian took off his white greatcoat and wrapped it around the length of her trembling body.

A look of gratitude from the woman was all he could muster from her as his great steed took off back into the night. As the hail drummed down about the three of them, shielded lightly by a snow-capped tree at the side of the road, Shinsou pulled his black shirt tighter around him in a vain attempt to warm up. He glanced at each of the two men; from the frame-up, each seemed to be hiding something underneath their concerned expressions, and although their worry for the girl seemed genuine, something wasn’t right. The Telgradian suspected that the fact a girl had been beaten and appeared to have injured herself running from a town in which he just so happened to be investigating a slaving ring might not have been a co-incidence, but perhaps the two gentlemen sharing his company could provide some information that would shed some light.

“What happened?” Shinsou demanded to know, his golden eyes piercing through the darkness at the pair.

[Mari]

Jack stared back at the stranger, his golden eyes flaring with anger. It unnerved the man, the colour reminded him of Amari, and her own unabashed rage. “Aye, I suppose we owe ya that much for helpin’ the lass.” Jack conceded as the stranger demanded answers, he lifted his hand up, scratching the back of his head nonchalantly. A relaxed action with clear intentions, signifying that he meant the other no harm. Nor was he ready to fight. Clearly not buying their lies. “She’s a runner, we part o’ a bandit troupe.” He jutted his thumb out behind him. “Not 10 minutes brisk walk thatta way. Recently- tha boss bein’ getting into real shady business.”

“Jack.” Thom hissed in warning. Unappreciative of his lovers brutal honesty.

“What’s tha harm?” Jack retorted, “He ain’t gon straight up murder us.” His eyes travelled back toward the stranger. “Else he’d done it by now- See, stranger, we don’t agree with this new direction. If it weren’t for Amari, the girl would’ve-” He paused. Clearing his throat. He didn’t need to say anything further. The twisted look of disgust on their faces told it all.

Thom spoke up, “We were going ta let her go, course - she would be afraid of us. So you do have our thanks.”

A jarring elbow met Thom’s side, “Oi, Yer think Amari’s ok?” Jack hissed.

Thom’s eyebrows furrowed. “Aye, probably not. I don’ believe that disease she mutters on about fer a second. I think the boss’ll attempt somethin’ since she just lost him a lass and a right ol’ fuck.”

The two exchanged worried glances, seemingly having an unspoken conversation between the two with looks alone, a raised eyebrow, another nudge. A flare of the nostrils. Finally, after prolonged silence, Jack shifted, turning his back on the newcomer. “We’ll take yer there, but few rules. The blondes, they go free- the redhead - she should be taken home, L’Olfsden Noble. Last condition we get beddin’ and food. I don’t mind pillaging, but Thom and I, we draw the line at human trafficking. Deal?”

Shinsou studied the two before him, it didn’t seem like they were lying - if anything they were all too eager to rat out their own gang. That troubled him, but there were more concerning matters at hand. The blonde was not the only girl. “Deal.”

Jack and Thom lead him quickly through the hail harsh winds, down a winding path toward an unassuming tavern. It’s lights on, and sounds of laughter within. Nothing out of the ordinary, that was, until the two pushed open the wooden doors.

The large hall was lit with various candles and lanterns- a roaring fire in the back promised a lasting warmth within the large room. Tables and chairs which had once been neatly lined up along the centre of the room had been pushed uncerimoniously to the sides.

A large circle of men stood in the center of the room; shielding the three from the entirety of what was going on, but the sound of a whip cracking against flesh, and the pained feminine scream of Amari painted a livid picture.

“Remind me why we ‘aven’t left yet?” Jack hissed toward Thom.
Amari howled, her trembling form collapsing to the floor as Gabe cracked the ninetail whip against the bare flesh of her back, tearing the raw red skin to pieces. Scarlet blood trickled down the wounds, flowing off her back and pooling onto the wooden floor.

“Apologise.” Gabe hissed, curling the length of the whip around his fist again.

“Bite me!” Amari hissed back. Her response bought another crack of the whip down, and with an agonising cry she coughed up a mouthful of blood and bile before falling silent.

Gabe knelt down beside her, unaware that Jack and Thom had returned with a guest in tow. He pulled her up by her matted crimson hair. “Yer just don’t quiet do ya? You may ‘ave been born a noble, but yer father didn’t even want ya. None o’ my men want ya, yer trash. The quicker yer learn to be a good, submissive lil’ slave, the better.” He thrust her head down into the floor and lifted himself up, planting his boot firmly on the back of her head.

Gabe pulled out a cigar, and lit it, drawing deep of its smoke. Only now, did he feel the draft of an open door. His grey eyes glanced up at the entrance. Seeing Thom, Jack, and a stranger. His brows furrowed. He rolled the cigar to one side of his mouth and clenched his teeth.

“Close the door.”

With a click of his fingers, the men around him were armed, and at the ready.

“Why can’t you two follow a simple order? I ask yer to get the girl, and you come back with a man? We can’t fuck a man.” He paused, his eyes narrowing, “We aren’t faggots like you two.” The derogatory comment caused a ripple of laughter to course through the 15 men that surrounded Gabe.

“Explain yourselves.” He pressed his boot tighter on Amari’s head, grinning at the pained sounds.

[Shinsou Vaan Osiris]

As Shinsou stood silently in front of the gathering of bandits, the Telgradian realized he had been led straight into the heart of his objective. The scent of it was there, a powerful, salty whiff of blood, bile and abuse that incensed the nostrils and muddled the senses. The hallmarks of the brutal group of slavers he had been tracking were all over this re-purposed village hall, and now the group of bandits in front of him moved out of formation to reveal more of the situation Osiris had walked into.

“I said, fucking explain!” As the crimson haired girl writhed and wriggled under Gabe’s heel, the man saw fit to grind the boot against her cheek, grazing it and causing fresh crimson to trickle down her face as he demanded to know what was going on. One of the other men, as if to make a point, grabbed a cat and ninetales from one of the displaced tables, paced forward and unleashed a harsh crack that rattled over the woman’s back, causing her to jerk with pain. As Jack and Thom looked at her, then each other, Shinsou stepped forward one pace. His soggy boots squelched on the wooden floorboards, and water ran in rivulets down to the edges of his face.

“You are, quite literally, the worst bandits I have ever met.”

There was a pause. Gabe looked to his men, who in turn looked at each other and back to him. The suspension of disbelief at this man’s cheek lasted a good few seconds before the gang’s leader smirked and dug his foot deeper into the slave’s face, the poor girl letting out a scream of pain that echoed through the room.

“How do you figure that then, boy?” Gabe asked, one hand on his hip as he continued his assault on Amari underfoot. His underlings were now gathered in a random group around him, the one with the cat and ninetales now binding her battered legs with the cord of the whip to stop her from moving. “And who the fuck are you?”

Shinsou pointed back towards the door. “Any bandit troupe worth their salt would picket the road at quarter-mile intervals. That way, should any law-makers wander down the path with the intention of having a little chat about your operation, you’d have a bit of notice before they knocked on your door. Were it not for these two, I could have walked straight in here unchallenged. Very sloppy indeed, which makes me wonder; am I wasting my time here? I’m starting to wonder if I’m in the wrong place.”

The Telgradian allowed his eyes to veer across the rugged, weather beaten facade of his challenger, and then the bleeding body of the slave girl at his feet. There was one thing that the Telgradian had a real problem with in life, and that was forced subjugation. A storm of anger beat at the inside of his chest at the sight of the squirming, battered form of the redhead, and monstrous waves of rage shattered white against the jagged walls of his patience.

“The people I’m tracking had an intellectual capacity above that of a boiled potato. But, even if I have wandered into the wrong place, I’m always happy to ‘balance the books’, so to speak.”

Since arriving on Althanas, Shinsou had fought for bandits, rogues and any bastard who would pay him enough gold to do their dirty work just to get by. But now the Telgradian was starting to find his footing on this new world and was starting to become more accustomed to doing the right thing. Indeed, Am’aleh and Joshua Cronen’s influence aside, even John Cromwell’s words had penetrated into his soul deep enough to have an effect.

"Victory is not strength, Shinsou, your words betray you. What do you know of the kinds of strength, hm? What do you know of the strength of a father who protects his children? What do you know of a woman who sells her body to feed her son? They have strength you cannot conceive, friend, because you call victory by a false name."

Gabe, somewhat dumbstruck by the Telgradian’s audacity but now at the end of his patience, beckoned to one of his cronies. The man stepped forward, a good six foot tall with dark hair, a scarred face and a bulky chassis, brandishing a scimitar menacingly.

“Shank him. Once you’re done with him, kill the faggots.”

The lackey drove forward, his blade scraping along the floor as he attempted to cannon its tip into Osiris’s exposed chest. Pushing forward from his right heel, Shinsou turned quickly and raised Stygian to parry the blow from the body up, spinning and effortlessly sending his charge crashing towards the southern wall. His diluted, golden eyes caught the assailant rebounding off the brickwork with a planted foot from the momentum, moving smoothly again for another assault, sword drawn and thrusted at breakneck speed at the Telgradian. Shinsou backpedaled as the rusty scimitar cut at him but hit nothing more than air, leaving the desperate looking bandit almost red in the face from the exertion of the last few minutes.

You’re mine!

The Telgradian roared instantly back into action, grabbing the hilt of his Icemold blade Shira and guiding it expertly into a powerful upward arc as the man staggered before him. His greasy, dishevelled face snapped back violently on contact, a pitiful whimper escaping his bloodstained lips and a crop of matted black hair whipping the air about his head as the edge of Shinsou’s blade carved a jagged crevice up his chest. The man’s last moments saw Shinsou’s emotionless visage staring back at them, the Telgradian’s pale face spattered with splashes of blood from force of the attack. The body, carried by its own momentum, rolled carelessly and clattered in a bloodied mess into a table.

Gabe's fury was obvious and full as he screamed for further assistance. Six heavily armed men stepped forward from the gang hesitantly as the slave girl received another punishing kick in the midriff.

Shinsou Vaan Osiris smiled.

"What the fuck are you smiling at, boy?" Gabe rasped, jutting his heel into the redhead’s back. "You think this is funny?"

Bewilderment was a word that could only begin to explain the look that crossed Gabe’s face as Shinsou dropped Stygian and Shira to the floor again with two rapid clangs. This situation was getting utterly ridiculous. As Gabe tried to figure out what was going on, he gazed upon Osiris. He no longer saw a man, or a prisoner. Instead, a demon loomed above him, his eyes ablaze with righteous fury.

“Do you know what nemesis means?” Shinsou asked, folding his arms. “It means a righteous infliction of retribution, manifested by an appropriate agent. In this case, nemesis is personified by me. Release the girl and any others you’ve got here. If you do, I’ll let you and your men surrender to the authorities. If not, I’ll re-decorate this room a nice new shade of red called hint of corpse. Your choice.”

[Mari]

Two blades clanged to the floor, dangerously close to the young woman’s head. She lifted it, vaguely aware of the blood pooling around her. Of Jack, who was trying to help her up. Of the man who lay dead atop a table, and another dead by Thom's feet. Amari gripped the stranger by his pants with a pale, shaking hand. This had to stop. The violence ached. It caused her a pain different to the physical pain that tore at her physical body. It felt deeper than that, it almost burned her existence. “Please…” Her voice so low, barely above a whisper. Using his clothes to steady herself, she slowly pushed herself to her knees.

“Amari, stop - yer bleedin’ too much.”

She ignored Jack’s words. Slowly pulling herself up to a standing position. Her hands gripped Shinsou’s coat. Where Gabe saw a towering demon, Amari saw a man. Lost in a sea of blood. “Please...no more…” She begged, brilliant jade eyes with golden filaments stared pleadingly into his own amber gaze. Her hands found their way to cup his cheeks. “No more death.”

“Amari! G-ah..” Jack had called out a warning to her, but he received a blow to his side. One of the bandits using a wooden club wrapped with barbed wire. A brutish weapon made to injure rather than kill. “Oi, Faggot. Ye forgot about me!” The bandit hollered.

Amari’s eyes widened - they flashed, glowing a soft yellow hue. Blood trickled from her soft lips, before she choked. Spraying the mans face with another crimson splatter before her arms drooped and she fell to the floor in a heap. A small dagger protruding from her shoulder blade.

“How I hate interruptions.” Gabe spat at the girl. He turned his eyes back toward Shinsou. The man single handedly killed one of his strongest men in naught but one blow. Jack and Thom had taken out a considerable chunk themselves. “Ow about we keep the redhead. She ain’t much use to anyone, and you take the other three girls we got out back. Call it a day, aye?”

[Shinsou Vaan Osiris]

The urge to wipe out this scum, whether he was in the correct place or not, had grown from a seed in Shinsou’s mind from the moment he had walked in and had blossomed into a tree of righteous fury. They were slavers, regardless of which ones they were. They were just one more nest of vermin to raze. Now though, inexplicably, he met resistance to the killing not just from Gabe’s cowardice but also the begging slave girl underfoot. To have an opportunity for his retribution to be extinguished so quickly was depressing, but it was even more frustrating that the girl who had taken so much punishment refused to allow justice to be served in its most severe form. The question that continued to ring around his head was why.

The Telgradian stood silently as he pondered his next course of action. His eyes glared at Gabe, at the slave girl, at his two accomplices and at the gathered bandits who were too scared to move. The prospect of killing them all, regardless, seemed completely justified given the horrendous nature of their business and the repeated torture the girl had suffered. She couldn’t have been in her right mind with all of the pain she had endured, and the possibility she wasn’t mentally capable of rational decision making crossed his mind. With a sneer, Shinsou slashed a hand through the air and summoned several lances of dark matter. They materialised with an electrical crackle and hung in the air just in front of Osiris, waiting for a command.

“Why should I accept such a proposal when I could just as easily obliterate you all and take all of the girls?” Shinsou questioned. As the Telgradian had gathered magic behind him, Gabe moved closer. A grunt came from the bandit leader, who looked down his fat, scarlet nose and spoke with a raspy voice.

“You’ll make a murderer of yourself to save the girls?” He taunted. “That makes you better than us?”

Shinsou felt his heart race at that comment, his anger building.

“Not raping and beating five innocent women makes me better than you. As for me being a murderer, you’re a little too late for that. I’ve done my fair share of killing and, for that, I carry my sins on my back as recompense. These girls need their freedom and the only way out without anyone getting killed here is for you to unconditionally release them into my care. You’ll also let the two men behind me go.”

On cue, Shinsou knew he could unleash a fury of dark magic upon the bandits. It would start with a mighty black storm of spears blasting the gathering at an impossible velocity and with deadly accuracy. It would finish with the annihilation of the slavers.

Osiris was braced for conflict.

Gabe’s lips curled back in a sneer as he extended his right hand before him, gesturing for the man to wait as his eyes pierced the Telgradian. He held the expression for a few moments as the sweet smell of sweat, blood and sex wafted about his den. There was another pause as Gabe once again looked to his remaining men, who in turn looked at each other and back to him once more. The tension lasted a good few seconds before the gang’s leader smirked and dug his foot deeper into the slave’s face.

His answer burned in Shinsou’s ear. Gabe knew he had no choice.

“Deal.”

[Mari]

Amari’s body fell limp as she was gingerly picked up by Shinsou. Her blood quickly stained his attire, seeping into the pristine whites of his coat. Shinsou carefully pushed strands of her hair behind her ear and out of her face. “Amari, was it?” His tone held a quiet warmth that seemed to stir the woman. If not for the briefest of moments.

Amari’s eyes fluttered. A dim amber glow leaked from her lids as she glanced up at him. Their eyes locked momentarily before the man quickly pulled his own amber eyes away.

Amari was confused at the use of her name. Who was this man? Why did he know her name? Amari closed her eyes again, pressing her head against his chest. She could feel the thrum of his heart, beating fast against his chest. “Mmhmm.”

Amari’s world went black - she was vaguely aware of voices. Concerned mumbles from Thom and Jack, the strange man who stampeded through the tavern turned bandit hideout; the muttering of Gabe. It all slowly drowned out, and all that remained was the constant beat of his heart.


2 Days Later.

Sunlight poured through the window of a small room in an inn within Knifes Edge. The room contained basic amenities. A wooden side table, a bed, a chair and a desk. The chair had been dragged next to the bed and in it, sat Shinsou. His arms crossed against his chest. Eyes closed. His chest slowly rising and falling as he dozed.

Amari winced. Her Back felt like it was on fire. She rolled over to alleviate the pressure on her back and shoulder. Last she remembered she was being punished by Gabe. She gingerly pulled the blanket up to her shoulder. To stave off the chill in the air.

…

Blanket?

Amari sat bolt upright at the realisation that she wasn’t sleeping on a pile of rags on the floor. Her bi-coloured eyes wide in alarm. She glanced around the small room. This...wasn’t the tavern. But if not there...where was she? Her eyes fell on Shinsou, who stirred. It was that man. Her brows furrowed as more memories from that night flooded back. This man came storming into the bandit hideout, he had killed someone - then...then…

Amari couldn’t remember what happened next.

She glanced down at her body. She was used to being exposed, the bandits often pulling and tugging at what little clothes they provided her. Then there was that stint in the House of Sin, which she would rather have forgotten, at least Aurelianus kept her purity intact. It was odd. To see herself neatly bandaged up from her arm and across her chest - not only that but to have a cotton shirt over her chest. Amari tugged at it curiously.

Clean clothes….when was the last time Amari had such a luxury?

“You’re awake.”
Amari jumped then winced. The jarring motion sent pain searing up her shoulder and down her back.

“Careful. You’re still healing.”

His words were soft, and kind - but Amari was suspicious. She was in a new place, with a strange man, who she last recalled was killing people. She slowly clutched at her chest at the memory. It hurt. Not just physically, but on an entirely different level. Being around death...it tugged at her core. It suffocated her.

This man was dangerous.

“Where’s Thom and Jack?” Her tone low, voice scratchy from lack of fluids. Despite her predicament her voice held a demanding note. Amari was quick to question him, she refused to look at him. She remembered those cold murderous eyes. To her, until he proved otherwise...he was just another captor.

“Safe. They’re on their way to the Brothers of Castigar’s base with the other girls. Amari, we should probably get you home soon. You’re from the L’Olfsden Nobles?”

Amari still didn’t look at him. She lowered her head. Giving it a small shake. “Father doesn’t want me. He refused to pay my ransom.” Her hands clenched the blanket, balling into small fists to stop them from shaking. It hurt. The prospect of freedom, and finally being able to return home. It didn’t seem real. “It’s been so long. Even if I did return, He’d ship me off to the Church of Ethereal Sway.”

Tiny droplets stained the sheets as tears began to fall. “I suppose. It would be nice to see brother again…” The bite in her voice from earlier had disappeared. “And surely the church would be a far safer place than those bandits.”

A small laugh rumbled through her chest. “You’re cruel...to use that tone...to promise my return home…” She didn’t believe him. How could she?

“Seven years…I haven’t dreamed of going home for seven years…”

She lifted her head, ready to shout at the man - to belittle him for giving her false hope, but her words caught in her throat. The man who stared at her was not the man that plauged her broken memory.

His eyes were lined with dark circles, nights of restless sleep. His lip downturned in concern and his eyes. His golden eyes knitted in a mixture of regret and pain. He hovered over his chair, leaning toward her as though to comfort her but he was stilled by unease.

“You’re...not lying are you?”

[Shinsou Vaan Osiris]

The Telgradian sat for a moment in silence, wondering what to say to the girl he had carried bleeding and broken back to the inn two days ago. His eyes were heavy and tired from sleep deprivation and the constant care he had been providing for the slave. He recalled that a thorough check revealed some of her bones were broken, there were bruises all over her back and legs where she had been beaten and lacerations where she had been struck by a whip. The injuries were monstrous enough to be a threat to Amari’s life. A plate of bread, half eaten, rested on the bedside cabinet; it was all Osiris had eaten in a day as he furiously tried to keep her healthy. His own clothes were still stained a reddish brown from her blood. After a few seconds, Shinsou’s eyes surveyed Amari and tried to find a way to answer her question. The poor creature was too scared to move; doubtless the effects of weeks, perhaps even months of torture.

“You’ve suffered two broken ribs, internal bleeding, a fractured arm and multiple wounds on your back,” Osiris said softly, being careful to not speak too loudly. “You’re going to need a couple more days rest before you can be moved. I can stay with you until then, if you want.”

The thought of what would happen to her once those days were up crossed his mind. The prospect of sending her to the Church of the Ethereal Sway was unappealing at best, but seemed much better than sending her back to a father who didn’t want her. With everything she had endured, Shinsou doubted she’d be ready to be left alone anytime soon.

She’s not going to want me loitering around her too long, either. The best thing I can do for her is stay with her until she is ready to move.

Shinsou glanced down at her bandaged body and stayed by her side until the fatigue of his own sleeplnessness caught up to him.

It was then Telgradian revisited the valley of the Jal Shey lords in his dreams. Every detail was etched like a rune into his memory; the tiny flecks of glass that glistened within the beige bricks of rough sandstone that comprised the numerous Jal Shey temples and the dawn sun that hung low, pouring brilliant orange across the horizon. The sky was blood red, and the furrowed clouds were every shade from palest pink to deep crimson. A warm breeze stroked the sands away from his feet in wisps and bristled through his brown locks, disturbing them. Shinsou remembered how the wind whistled as it cut through his feral, incisor like teeth, leaving a tingling sensation in his maw. He remembered how his rough, jet black skin cracked in the morning heat, and how the razor sharp nails of his claws twinkled in the dawn light.

The Jal Shey soldiers by his side were waiting patiently. They had been expecting a Telgradian counterattack to come today. The Jal Shey seers were always right, and Shinsou knew what would come of their omen.

The first blood of the war would be split in the sands of the valley this day.

“Cavum Ira, my lord, should we inform lord Temperance of the omen?” One of the black clad Jal Shey cultists asked, standing to attention at Shinsou’s side as rigidly as any of the stone pillars that littered the gusset of the valley. He dared not take a breath out of turn in the presence of his master.

Cavum Ira. That was the name for it. That was the name for that form. That’s what they called me. Shinsou, looking in on his own dream in the third person, had forgotten much since his imprisonment in Kokushi, but now he remembered his Jal Shey namesake. It was his slave name. Just repeating the words sent a cold shiver reverberating down his spine.

Cavum Ira, the Judgment.

“No. Let them come upon us,” came the booming response in a tone so distorted it was almost ethereal to behold. “…and we will grind them into the dirt ourselves. There is no need to disturb-”

Cavum Ira’s chilling voice was cut dead by something moving in the corner of his black and gold eyes. The sound of sand sifting underfoot accompanied the anomaly. The beast shot glances to each of his cultists present, who with such precision and synchronization ceased their talking and rested their hands on the hilts of their weapons. Nero-Ky, Shinsou’s retainer, still mid-way through cleaning and stripping down his unusual sword, put a finger to his black lips and motioned for the assembled squadron to be silent, slowly reaching down and clasping his blade within his scarred hands.

Telgradia approaches. The slender, white haired commander whispered to Shinsou, who nodded in reply, cracking the bones in his hands. The form of Cavum Ira began to emit a black, horrible, stomach churning energy. His dark claws clenched around an invisible hilt of air, the basis of which would form his dark matter if so required to be called upon.

Suddenly, all went very, very quiet.

“Kill them!” Cavum Ira, “Judgment” of the Jal Shey, growled, “Saturate the sands with Telgradian blood!”

All in all, it had taken about ten seconds for the attacker to enter the small valley, charge at the Jal Shey and finish up in a crumpled, mangled heap near the steps of the Jal Shey’s main temple, but those ten seconds had passed almost in slow motion. Only now, with Cavum Ira’s cry echoing across the sands, did Nero-Ky and the rest of the men truly react. The rangers scrambled to arm themselves and then approached Cavum Ira immediately, forming a circle of defence around their commander. Cavum Ira moved in tandem with them, snaking around the fallen column he had been in front of moments ago and flicked his right hand out. Tendrils of black and purple electricity danced from his fingertips, sawing at the dawn’s air before a second flick of the wrist formed the structure of a lance of dark matter.

“There, behind the temples! They’re circling round!”

The assassins could be heard long before they came into sight. Their quick footsteps pressed heavily into the ocean of sand that blanketed every uneven surface for miles around, the crunches of their feet upon the golden grains and the pounding of their breath upon the morning air the only signs of their existence. To the un-trained ear, it was as if the patter of raindrops had reached the Jal Shey valley. To those present, it was the coming of death’s agents.

The cultists clung to the hilts of their swords tighter as the noises grew closer and closer and, collectively, anxiously awaited the first attack. Their eyes tried to follow the shadows of their assailants as they phased in and out of the standing marble columns like ghosts, but their opponents were so fleet of foot no-one could trace their movements. The growing number of audible steps, mixed with the rattling of chains, and above it all the tell-tale crackling of stone and lint as tens of men flanked the valley told the Jal Shey that they were badly outnumbered.

Suddenly, Cavum Ira picked up another sound; the familiar hollow rumbling of hooves.

“Nero-Ky, prepare the men!” Cavum Ira roared with his back turned to his commander.

“Cavalry incoming!”

Before Nero-Ky had even had a chance to respond, they were in view; the hooded men from the mouth of the valley and their outriders from the beaten gravel track into the clearing appearing in perfect formation. The ranks of black hoods, their curved, polished sabres unsheathed, ran towards the group from all angles in a nightmare sprint. The fine dust kicked up from the horses' hooves formed a cloudy trail behind the two mounted assassins charging in from behind.

“I’ll deal with the riders!” Cavum Ira bellowed, almost screaming. “Kill the skirmishers, take no prisoners and show no mercy!”

Whatever Nero-Ky had yelled in response was lost in the chaos. As he started his blurry kamikaze sprint over the dusty wasteland and across the valley carving a path between the rows of ceremonial Jal Shey temples, the smooth surface of his dark lance gleaming in the beautiful orange glow of the sun, Cavum Ira’s mind raced. He tried to calculate the possibilities open to him for killing his targets, consisting of two archers on horseback. It would not be an easy feat, of that he was sure. But whatever the method, he had to do it now. Any archer that crossed the threshold between him and the first row of temples would have free reign of the field.

All around the beast were the sounds of projectiles whizzing past his ears mixed with the battle cries of his cultists left in the clearing behind him. Ahead of him, Shinsou, in his most powerful form, could now see the maddened brown eyes of the beasts that thundered towards him, snorting and hissing clouds of white vapour into the morning air as their mounts let loose a volley of arrows that barely missed him.

I’ll send you to hell, Telgradian!

The hulking form of Cavum Ira slowed, calculating the speed and distanced required for his planned assault, and then suddenly dug his clawed heels into the floor as the lead horse threatened to career into him, pivoting on his right heel and thrusting the dark lance into the beast’s neck. As the horse let out a shrill scream, it threw its rider and collapsed to the sands along with Cavum Ira.

The other rider stormed by on his mount, too fast to intervene, and instead let loose another arrow that slammed into the dusty floor next to Cavum Ira’s arm. Grabbing the wooden shaft, the Jal Shey beast pulled it from the barren earth and turned just in time to meet the concussed, staggering form of the thrown rider standing over him with a dagger like some sort of drunken grim reaper. With a single thrust, the beast plunged the arrow head into the unprotected chest of his attacker, piercing his heart and killing him instantly.

The second black-robed assassin had already dismounted, but as he approached Cavum Ira was already back on his feet, snarling ferociously. Dancing upon the murky silt of the clearing with great fluidity for such a beast, the Judgment thrust his deadly claws forward and then spun at the last second, disembowelling the man easily on the backswing. Another two hooded men tried to flank him, jumping out from behind a burial mound in an attempt at an ambush.

Cavum Ira grunted, simply swooping left to right whilst anticipating the slow and clumsy motions of the men, who, like the others he had just killed, had great trouble fighting at close combat with any degree of fluency. With two strokes of his blade-like nails, he severed the head of one of the black-clad men, and then drove his entire arm into the heart of the other, who fell, choking to the ground, blood spattering upon the beast’s face with what could only be seen as satisfaction in the Jal Shey’s countenance.

As the last of the surviving assassins scrambled as fast as their feet could take them back towards the entrance of the valley, Nero-Ky approached a blood-soaked Cavum Ira. The beast was barely out of breath, smeared in the blood of his enemies, and had succeeded in driving terror into the heart of his Telgradian enemies.

Hey...

A voice echoed in his mind as the blood soaked valley of the Jal Shey lords faded to black. Gradually, the scene warped into something more familiar. Shadows danced along the cracked plaster walls of a bedroom as candles burned in oil lanterns over the doorway. The pungent smell of rising damp wafted into the Telgradian’s nose, stirring his senses in a way he would have preferred to not have experienced. As he slowly opened his eyes and adjusted his focus, Shinsou could see that the strange voice that had jarred the Telgradian from his slumber belonged to a strange face. Framed by ruffled red hair, it peered over him, over his chair, and blocked his view of the tavern’s timber beam ceiling.

“Hey, wake up! Are you ok? You were screaming!”

How many hours had passed since he had fallen asleep, the Telgradian wondered? As Shinsou sat up, only Amari’s irises stood out on first glance, a soft, caring gaze. Shinsou briefly met her eyes before glancing towards the window, thinking upon the significance of these dreams. The memory of being a slave to the Jal Shey was coursing through him again. He could feel the throbbing weight of Cavum Ira inside him, tearing at his heart. It was disturbing. In fact, it was almost maddening. He had been forced into that form. He had been beaten, controlled and forced to murder his own people. He had even been forced to enjoy it, the common decency of being revolted by his actions taken away from him by the Jal Shey.

Shinsou, at that moment, was on a level of understanding for Amari's plight that could not have ever been explained. Everything cold and instinctual about him started to come undone as soon as their eyes met again. Ordinary feelings he hadn't ever felt for himself began to take their place. Suddenly, there was some sort of clarity and Shinsou could almost read her expectant face like a book. She needed normality again and she needed to see something human in him. For that moment, at the center of the Telgradian’s vision, she stood begging for an answer.

Shinsou's reply was an embrace, one he had needed for a very long time.

"There's something I must tell you, about why I revile slavers..."

[Mari]

“You would....stay with me….?” She questioned his kind, simple offer by repeating his words. Why would he offer to stay with her? Why would he mend her wounds and heal her? His concern seemed genuine, and she could deduce that he wasn't lying about Thom or Jack. If he had gotten into a scuffle with them she was sure he'd be injured.

Her eyes darted down to his attire; he was stained in blood. Amari guessed it was her own. She cleared her throat. “I don’t have anything to give you for payment.” She shuffled uneasily in the bed ignoring the pain illicit from her movements. The only items she had, were left at the bandit hideout. Even then, they were nothing more than threads, discarded bandages and empty jars. Just trash.

She lifted her head to glance at him again. Whenever their eyes met he seemed to pull his away from hers. It did not go unnoticed by Amari. At first, it was suspicious. Leading her to distrust him. Now, it just seemed like an awkward mannerism. Something he wasn’t even aware he was doing. In a way, it showed a hidden innocence the man had.

“Why are you being kind to me?”

The man blinked. Taken aback by her question. He rubbed his chin, glancing over her form. Amari's brows furrowed as she quickly took the blanket and covered herself.

"I'm sorry." The man said as he pulled his eyes away from her. "I was inspecting your bandages. They will require me to change them soon."

Amari kept the blanket draped over her, and repeated her question with an insistent tone. The subject change wasn't going to deter her. "why are you being so nice to me?"

"That's what decent people do. Amari. They help each other."

"No, they don't." Amari snapped back. "They use each other. They only help someone when they have something to gain from it." She retreated further into the blanket, draping it over her head like a hood.

"Is that what you really think?" The man asked, his tone saddened by her outlook, but Amari dare not glance back at him. What if he was lying? What if he was trying to coax her into a false sense of security?

But...

What would he gain from that?

If he wanted anything from her, wouldn't he have taken it by now?

If he was being truly genuine, and wanted nothing more than her health, and for her to return home...that'd make him the first 'decent person' she had ever met. Even her brother and father believed in the ideology that you were to only ever do something if you could gain profit from it.

As Amari mulled over the situation, she felt more and more guilty. This man offered her nothing but kindness and warmth, and she in turn offered him nought but bitterness and accusations.

"Hey..." She spoke quietly. Breaking an hour of silence. "What's your name?"

He didn’t respond. Instead, a slight murmur erupted from his form.

“Hello?” Amari poked her head out from the blanket, allowing it to fall freely to her shoulders. He stirred, but did not respond.

"Oh..." She muttered, disappointed. There went her chance of making amends.

He was asleep. Amari chose to let him be for now. Instead turning her attention to her wounds. Two broken ribs...internal bleeding... Shouldn’t she be dead? Amari wasn't a doctor, and she wasn't book smart. Nor street smart...let's face it, Amari just wasn't smart. So she wasn't sure on how much a human body could take, but she was pretty sure that ribs were damn important and that she were damn lucky to be alive.

Night began to settle as the man slept beside her. She wished it were a peaceful sleep, but his body kept twitching. His brows furrowing. Lips parting in ragged breaths as he began to mutter things in a dialect Amari struggled to understand.

The murmurs turned to screams. Amari's distrust and suspicions drowned in her sudden concern for the man. No one could fake such tortured cries. “Hey, wake up! Are you ok? You were screaming!” Amari edged closer to the side of the bed. Such small movements proved difficult...but that wasn't her concern right now.

Amari reached out. Her fingers grazed against his sweaty hand and the man jostled awake. Their eyes met again. And again...he quickly drew them away. The urge to question him why bubbled up, but Amari shoved that question right back down into her brain meat. Not today curiosity. Not today.

"Why do you do that...?" She whispered.

Then instantly bit her tongue.

The fuck did I just say Curiosity!

The mans reply was a gentle embrace. He leaned forward without warning. Gently pushing her arm away, he wrapped his own tenderly around her shoulders. Mindful of each and every laceration and wound. He wove his arms around her in a way that avoided the heavier injuries.

Amari drew a sharp breath. Warmth flooded into her being. She lifted her hands and rested her palms against his chest. Ready to push him away. Her lips parted. Ready to shout obscenities and insults.

But her arms buckled, falling to her sides. And whatever angered words she had became nothing more than unspoken whispers in the dead of the cold Salvic night.

How could she push him away? This warmth was something she yearned for, and she didn't even know it till now. Tears stung at her eyes. What was this feeling? What was this comfort? Did she deserve this?

Amari's thoughts were interrupted by his weary voice. Her brows furrowed when he said there was something to tell her, why he vilified slavers. Why he’d risk so much. Why he appeared so...maniacal.

“I don’t understand...why would you need to explain yourself? Aren’t Slavers hated by most people?”

"Most people don't have an insatiable urge to kill every slaver they come across." The man muttered darkly.

Amari pressed her face into the nap of his neck. His ebony hairs tickled her nostrils. He smelt like blood and citrus.The scents combined to create an oddly pleasant smell. Her body ached where his arms pressed their forms together. Still, she refused to draw away.

He seemed to need the human interaction just as much as she did. Her hand gingerly rose to rest on the mid of his back. Amari wasn't able to return the exuberance of his embrace, but she hoped this small gesture helped.

“I’m sorry.” She muttered, her breath tickling the nape of his neck. “I doubted you. I assumed you were just another captor. I don’t understand your reasoning or motives for being so kind…” She paused, she still didn't entirely trust him. How could she? However, this was not the time to voice that right now.

Right now, it seemed as though he needed her more than she him.

“Thank you. Stranger."

[Shinsou Vaan Osiris]

Ten thousand snowflakes waltzed on the cold Salvarian air in front of me. New flakes joined them with every passing second, turning the soft snowfall into a never-ending cascade of white that washed over the road from Knife’s Edge. Safe inside my arms, I could feel Amari’s chest rising and falling as she breathed against my body. Her injuries had recovered enough for me to move her. It was soothing, despite having walked the last ten miles in the relentless blizzard, to see her sleep.

Whenever I looked down, I considered what it must be like to be Mari in her current state. The sheer trauma of her torture obscured her from human connection and prevented her from trusting anyone. After another mile, I thought about Telgradia, how lucky I was that I had been subdued for such a relatively small amount of time in comparison. If this deafness to trust, this fragility she carried with her, was a result of all of her experiences at the hands of slavers then I knew I was justified in my hatred. The more I walked, the more I wished I had simply sent them all to meet their maker.

But then, what use would that have been? There would always be more in their place. Then, as a consequence, there would always be more people like me hunting them. The cycle of conflict would be endless. How would that help this girl? This naïve creature that lay so peacefully in my arms needed only one thing, and that was respite. She didn’t care for more death or more suffering, even if I did.

Perhaps my entire existence had been devoid of the normal sensory experiences that would have made other people revile the killing? Or, perhaps I just had conviction that what I was doing was right? Whatever the circumstances, the questions were quandaries for another time.

I had more important things to think about, in any event. I’d arranged to meet a friend of my old accomplice Bane Stark. Like Bane, he was a former Coronian Ranger who had been cast out of the order about a decade ago. I doubted the guy knew it was me he’d be meeting; he’d contacted me through a chain instead of going through the Brotherhood directly. I needed someone who could take Amari to the Brotherhood without attracting unwanted attention to her, as even our ranks contained many who would have not thought twice about selling her out. After all, even leaders like me and Storm Veritas weren't able to flush out all of the rats from the gutter all at once. It would take time. Recklessness had nearly been the death of me and people in my care, like Bane, on multiple occasions and it was something I wasn’t prepared to risk anymore.

I considered both my future and my choices as I carried her in my arms to where I thought safety would be; to the Castigar outpost just before the northern wastes. Then, it struck me. I could have always walked away. Why didn’t I? Was I curious? Yes, I was, I suppose. It was dangerous to be this curious. I still had my own things to do and the Council of Five who were hunting me, my father included, wouldn't give me any quarter if they caught me out here. Was I exposing her to more danger?

Was I doing the right thing?

I had to see for myself. As we made camp for the night, I wondered if she would ever heal from those wounds. The physical ones, and the mental.

[Mari]

Few words were spoken between Amari and the man who she come to know as Shinsou that night. He held onto her with strong, shaking hands. His grip strong enough to break a man’s neck yet remained ever delicate and mindful of Amari’s wounded body. He muttered his name, and before long fell into a dreamless sleep. Amari had to uncomfortably shift - and much to Shinsou’s disdain, had slept the remainder of that night upon the floor.

The few days that followed were a fevered blur. Shinsou had explained to her that he left the bandits alone; abiding by her wishes. He vented his frustrations, and why he wanted them dead. How he, in his own morbid and twisted experiences knew the futility of losing the ability to choose, to be captive. He questioned Amari, and realised that returning her to her families estate was just another death sentence for the poor, naieve girl. Shinsou learned of her father, and her brother. He learned of her ‘disease’ and how it kept her purity intact. Of course, unlike the bandits. He didn’t believe it.

Tears were shed; and not just by the red headed woman.

At night, Shinsou would stir. His body would twitch and tears would stain his chiseled features in salty streams. Amari would quietly tend to him on those restless nights. She would gently dab away his tears. Her hands gently combed through his hair, wiping the sweat from his brow - and when he futily reached out for something to grab hold of - her hand was there. Then, before he woke - she’d shift away. As though she hadn’t done a thing, and as though he never disturbed her with his own inner demons.

Amari felt it wrong to belittle the man who had saved her. She didn’t want to make light of his struggles, nor bring attention to it. Instead, she would help in her own way.

It was the morning of the fourth day. Amari sat in a chair which she had dragged to the window. Her bi-coloured eyes watched as people passed in the street below. Knife’s Edge was a bustling hub - and Amari loved to watch the daily lives of the people below. She made up stories about them - and would tell Shinsou about her fantasies when he returned.

The door opened, and a grim looking Shinsou entered. Amari turned to greet him with a smile, but it faltered.

“Shinsou?” She questioned, concerned. Amari stood. Slowly. Careful not to show the pain she felt when she walked.

“We’re leaving. They’re looking for you. I’m taking you to a settlement of the Brothers of Castigar. You’ll be safe there.”

---

Amari tried. She tried so hard to keep pace with Shinsou, but for every several steps he took - she barely managed one. He moved with an urgency that Amari did not fathom, nor understand. Apparently, a few of the bandits wanted to kill her. Oddly enough, Amari wasn’t scared of this. She wasn’t afraid of dying. She tried voicing this to Shinsou - but he just gave her a look filled with concern and ache.

Before long, night had fallen - and she was once again, being carried in his arms. Amari was tired, weary. She slept. Partially shielded from the cold by a blanket which had been wrapped tightly around her tiny frame. Every so often Amari would open her eyes to be greeted by the blurry images of night, and the tickle of snowfall upon her reddened nose. She could not stay awake long. The slow steady beat of his heart pulled her back into slumber.

A particularly cold front picked up, as a blizzard began to set in. Amari groaned in her sleep, and her hand - seeking more warmth in her unconscious state snaked it’s way into Shinsou’s shirt. She rested her palm against the mid of his chest. She didn’t find the warmth she desired from his chest. His skin prickled with the cold. Unlike her, he wore little protection from the oncoming storm.

It was then, that her Ar Tuel magic made itself known. Her palm prickled with a tingling warmth which spread through and into Shinsou’s skin. The tell tale sign of her magic, a faint amber glow emitted from her palm and fingertips and slowly engulfed the front half of Shinsou’s body. It ebbed at his form, like a slowly rising tide and sunk deep below his skin. Providing him with comfort, peace and warmth.

All the while, the redheaded woman slept, unaware of her own abilities.

This drove Shinsou to push forward. They had to find shelter, and wait out the remainder of the night. He trudged forward, his steps becoming heavy as the snow engulfed his calves. Before long, he found sanctuary from the raging blizzard outside.

A fire was lit, bedding was laid - and the two sat by a roaring fire. Amari yawned, drowsy. Having being woken up by the unfamiliar movement.

Despite the close proximity of the two. Amari still had her doubts. It was one thing, being in the safety of an inn within a bustling metropolis. It was another, to be alone in a cave with a man she barely knew.

Amari rubbed her hands together then held her palms out to the fire to warm herself up. She was faintly aware of Shinsou’s curious golden gaze on her. He kept his distance, but his eyes burned brighter, and hotter than the flickering flames of the fire. Every so often Amari would glance over at him, only to catch him look away. Amari shifted uncomfortably. She picked up the blanket and draped it over her shoulders, covering herself.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” She finally asked.

“You’re shivering.”

Amari huffed, cheeks flushed. “I don’t need you to come near me.” She still didn’t trust him. Despite all his efforts. Despite the faint smiles and intimate conversations. She still couldn’t shake that something didn’t feel right. Perhaps it was just paranoia, from years of servitude.

“That’s…” Shinsou paused, his voice wavered. “That’s not what I meant. I mean - why not warm yourself up. The way you did me.”

“Huh?” Amari turned her gaze back to him. Feeling confused. She hadn’t the slightest clue what he was talking about. She tried to think back on any situation where she would ‘warm’ him up. The only thought that came to mind, was when she’d wrap a blanket around him at night. Or...when she fell asleep against his chest. Amari huffed, and hid her head in her knees.

“I-I said I’m not doing that .”

At that point, Shinsou seemed to give up. He stood and threw another log onto the fire.

“Amari…”

His tone…

Amari could never grasp the tone of voice he used, the way he said his name. The inward sigh, the inflection. The myriad of emotions...all uttered in three short syllables. Every time he said her name, she felt her skin prickle and inadvertently, her attention was drawn to him.

She lifted her head, weary from her knees. “Mmm?”

Shinsou shifted and sat himself down next to her. Amari couldn’t protest, not with the way he had said her name. Not with the look of concern etched on his features.

“Rest.”

His tone was commanding yet gentle. It held an urgency to it and Amari -despite all her protests found herself leaning her head against his shoulder. “I don’t trust you.” She mumbled, her eyes heavy. Betraying her as they slowly fell. Her head slipped and she allowed herself to fall into his lap.

“I know.” Shinsou said. His hand gently pushing her hair away from her face. “I know.”

[Shinsou Vaan Osiris]

The fire pit occupying the centre of the cave still burned as Amari slept. Shinsou, weather beaten and rough from sleeplessness, sat around the coals, his white coat and threadbare shirt crumpled from a night in the rough shelter. He looked down at his right to see Amari’s smooth features illuminated by the flickers of the dancing flames in front of them, her face twitching occasionally as she dreamt.

Hopefully, he thought, of something more pleasant than the last few days.

Osiris found himself pleasantly surprised by the girl’s resilience. He was able to survive harsh artic conditions thanks to the powers that Shira granted, but even in the bitter plunge of temperatures this far north there were no complaints of the cold from her. As he sharpened and stripped his weapons and waited patiently for frozen meat to cook on a spit, Shinsou vaan Osiris thought upon matters closer to home. Although it now felt like a lifetime ago, it had only been a year since his escape from Telgradia, since his own slavery ended.

Hmph.

As he stared blankly into the fire, he wondered if he would ever meet his father Telos again. He pondered whether the man would accept that Osiris had been forced to do the evil he had done, or whether he would follow the Council of Five into battle against his son.

Would you kill me? Could I kill you if it came to it?...I suppose we both know the answer to that question, huh.

For now, though, he had to worry about Amari and, as the heat of the fire licked at his cold cheeks, Shinsou looked at his newest companion. Her young, infallible complexion and slender body stuck in his mind and stirred him in a way he couldn’t fathom. He lad lay with and even loved women before – one, in particular, had been the single cause of everything that had happened to Osiris from the start – but never before had one piqued his curiosity in the way Amari did. Perhaps it was sexual attraction, but there was also something more, something deeper that he sensed within her.

She’s an anomaly, Shinsou reasoned, stroking her hair away from her face as she rolled over. Her soul is a complex construct I can’t understand. Usually, sensing a soul isn’t a problem for me. It’s just like listening to a conversation. But, with her, I sense so much there it’s hard to fathom if she is even human – it’s like listening to a conversation between a thousand people at once. It’s all just…noise.

Shinsou mulled this all over as he pulled a chargrilled leg from the makeshift griddle in front of him and sunk his teeth into the tender, juicy meat. The fire was only small now, but it kept the edge of the midnight chill away and had cooked the food perfectly.

A droplet of water, a result of the ice on the cavern ceiling melting under the rising heat, sizzled as it dripped into the flames and evaporated. It was then Amari stirred. She had awoken in such a position that her shoulders that were barely concealed by the blanket. She sported a yawn as she rolled, barely avoiding the bare, cleaned blades of Stygian and Shira that lay at her feet. Her flawless, beautiful eyes opened slowly and glimmered in the fire.

“Do you drink?”

Amari, brushing a hand through her frosty red locks, thought about the question. As she shrugged, her breath hit the cold night’s air and turned to steam.

“I’ll try a little. Just a little.”

Shinsou repositioned a hip flask of whisky he had by his side into Amari’s palm, smiling heartily at her.

“Just a little to warm you up. Don’t take too much; this is strong stuff.” He winked, “I borrowed it from Storm Veritas. Well, requisitioned it. I’ll buy him another bottle when I get back.”

She sat next to Shinsou, who had poured himself a sizable cup of Storm Veritas’s favourite honey-flavoured single malt. Shinsou gulped down the whisky. As it hit the back of his throat, he could taste and smell the strength of the stuff, and decided that one was all he really needed, wiping his mouth with the corner of his sleeve. He reached down for one of the three bags by his side and flung the first untied sack at the fire. The canvas thing spun through mid air, spreading its powdered contents all over the glowing embers. As the silver dust struck the heart of the glowing coals, the flames roared back to life and the campfire was restored to its former glory.

”Amari…” Shinsou called out, “…I need to ask you something.”

There was a pause. He wondered if now was the best time, but went ahead anyway.

"One of my...talents...is the ability to sense souls and magic. While you were sleeping, I sensed something in you, involuntarily. It was like listening to white noise, or a thousand people talking at once. It’s something I've never experienced before, like you're severed from the eternal tap. What was that?"

[Mari]

Amari watched as he gulped down the whiskey, and set down the cup. Not wanting to drink from the flask. She picked it up and poured herself half of what he had given himself. She wasn’t sure how much was too much . Hopefully this was the right amount.

Amari hadn’t had Whiskey before. She drank weak wine a few times in her life - but it was few and far between, and a quarter glass at best. “So you stole it then.” She added, matter-of-factly. She offered him a sideward glance and in return he smirked at her comment.

This is supposed to warm me up… She thought to herself, bringing the liquid closer. The scent tickled her nose, and reminded her of some of the bandits, but it also reminded her of a warm kitchen. Of honey and toast, of scents and spices drying in the rare Salvar sun.

Amari took a deep breath and bought the cup to her lips, drinking the contents in three large gulps. She coughed, daintily covering her mouth as she spluttered. He wasn’t lying, the liquid roared down her throat and settled in the pit of her empty stomach - exploding into a heated sensory. Her eyes tingled and her head swam. She wasn’t sure what she thought of the sensations, but the taste of the liquid was pleasent, and it seemed to go down well enough.

“T-Thanks.” She muttered, embarassed as she carefully wiped a thin trickle from her lips.

Amari tensed as the fire roared back to life. She wasn’t expecting it. She drew her feet away from the flames in fear that she’d burn herself. “That’s dangerous!” She snapped, her heart pounding in her chest. The reaction illicit a chuckle from Shinsou - but it soon died down as he hesitated, then asked her a question in regards to her soul.


“Sense souls?” Amari pursed her lips. She wasn’t angry at him, especially for something that was involuntary. She wasn’t sure if seeing anothers soul was considered intimate or not. “I’m sorry Shinsou. I don’t understand any of that. Or what the eternal tap is…”

Amari glanced down at her empty cup. “Maybe…” She began, thoughtfully. She traced the rim of the ceramic with her thumbs, turning it to and fro between her hands. Her bi-coloured eyes watching a droplet of the honeyed liquid shift. “It’s because I’m cursed.”

“Cursed?” Shinsou asked.

“Mm.” Amari replied. She pursed her lips. “My mother died giving birth to me. Father said I was the daughter of sin. I should have died instead.” Amari’s grip on it tightened - and she stopped twirling it in her hands. In that moment, it felt as if the weight of the darkness quelled within her small frame. Lost alone in the depths of her thoughts. “He never loved me.” She muttered quietly. “I don’t remember much of it but when I was younger. I showed signs of magic. It went against the teachings of the church. I was punished.”

There was another pause, as the fire crackled and groaned underneath the weight of the wood and strange shimmering powder that had relit it. Amari lifted her eyes from the cup. Loosening her grip on it. They stared into the heat of the fire. “I suppose, being cursed has its perks.”

She turned her head slightly to Shinsou, offering hima broken smile. Her eyes shut as she tried to make a joke. A self depreciating laugh broke through her quivering lips. “It kept them from ravaging my body after all. Right?” Her hands shook and she gripped the cup tighter. The shattered laugh continued - and her body convulsed with broken chuckles and sobs. Few tears streaked her cheeks, although, if he were to ask - she wouldn’t be able to tell him why.

Still.

She tried to smile.

[Shinsou Vaan Osiris]

It kept them from ravaging my body…

Her final words to Shinsou before she finally went to sleep probably struck him harder than much of what she had already told him and what he had already witnessed. It wasn’t that she had said anything particularly surprising, but instead how she had said it; as if she were making light of such a barbaric act.

Like it’s something that just happens every day to her. Does it Amari? Is this a glimpse into what you have to live with?

As the Telgradian stroked her head to sleep, he wondered just how much of this daily torture had eaten into her sanity.

Just as he snuffed out the dying flames of the fire, the sound of hooves and the unmistakable echo of a creaking wagon rippled through the night and interrupted his thoughts. Grabbing Shira out of habit alone, Osiris lay the sleeping Amari down and made for the cave’s maw, where he saw night stretch endlessly out into the Salvarian snowscape. Approaching at a deliberately careful pace was a covered wagon with two outriders. Through the light snowfall, Shinsou could make out one of rider’s green tunics and realized the men were his own; a Brotherhood transport with an escort.

The outrider on the left, sporting a polished, curved sabre, cantered up to him on the back of his mount whilst the other remained by the wagon.

“Executor Shinsou,” His man, a slender, bearded fellow who had a thin layer of frost on his hair, addressed Osiris by the traditional title of the Brotherhood of the Castigars leader, “We are glad you are well. Forgive us, the ranger sent a scouting party ahead to track you from Knife’s Edge to ensure your safe passage. We come in confidence from the northern wastes with word from Vladimir. We’re to take you the rest of the way.”

Osiris raised an eyebrow. “It was understood that the Brotherhood were not to be involved in this directly. Who authorized you to come here?”

“We’re operating outside of Brotherhood jurisdiction this time, Executor,” The man replied, “We understand the risks. The uniform is required to get us in and out of the outpost else we’d have been in plain clothes. Here are our credentials and warrants signed by Vladimir.”

Shinsou perused the papers, looking back to check on Amari, who slept soundly next to the warm logs. “It checks out, though I am not happy I wasn’t informed prior to leaving Knife’s Edge. Anyway, that is not your concern. Thank you, err?”

“Samson, sir.”

“Thank you, Samson.” Shinsou nodded his gratitude. “Please inform your driver we’ll be along momentarily. I’ll collect our belongings and bring Amari.”

A few minutes passed as the small alcove became a hive of activity. Shortly afterwards, everything had been loaded onto the wagon and the cave was restored to its former glory. As the wagon and its light escort pulled onto the road, the timber cart’s rhythmic bouncing rocking him like a babe in a swinging crib, Shinsou felt his eyes grow heavier and sleep finally overtook him.

***

The Telgradian, wrapped in his white greatcoat, awoke to the sound of trotting hooves and clanging traces and chains. The hollow rumbling of rickety wooden wheels begging for grip on the icy Salvarian roads was unmistakable, and above it all the thundering crashes as tons of brass, iron and timber bounced on the bumpy tundra throughways told him that they had finally made headway into the northern wastes.

Groaning softly, he wiped a sore hand across his eyes, and blinked several times.

Opposite him, an exhausted Amari slept soundly through the racket. She looked peaceful enough, her lips still and not trembling in her sleep for the first time in days, but despite this Shinsou couldn’t help but feel she harbored something more volatile than her outward appearance and frail disposition were letting on. When they had first met several days ago during the purging of the bandits, Osiris had noticed nothing in particular about her but now he could sense her soul and the constant white noise that erupted from it. It almost deafened him, and he couldn’t quite focus on the cause.

There’s a storm raging in there somewhere.

It was an anomaly and this made Shinsou extremely curious. The Telgradian loved anomalies. But, he realized, he would no longer have the time with Amari to figure it out. It was bittersweet, but the result of the journey would be as intended. Shinsou had been there at the critical moment and with this had felt he had “paid forward” his dues to whatever force governed the laws of karma. The girl would be safe with his men; of that he was sure.

Maybe she’ll go on to have a happy life. She deserves as much, however terrifyingly naïve she may be.

In some ways, The Telgradian wished he could have been more like her; warm hearted to the point of being able to plead for the lives of even those who oppressed her. Her choice; to not be shackled by the reins of hatred and to choose to be different, seemed liberating. Perhaps that was the only freedom she could give herself. The more he thought about it, the more it felt like his decision to inflict retribution made him even more of a slave, this time to his anger.

Perhaps he had just swapped one master for another.

Even if that was the case, at least this master is me.

The Telgradian peeled his mind away from such thoughts and turned his attentions to the outside, through the horseshoe shaped gap in the rear of the cart, where the ivory canvas peeled away to reveal ramshackle beginnings of an outpost. The Brotherhood, slowly stirring to the break of a new day, could be heard pacing around the encampment long before they came into sight. Every now and then another bump would send the wagon into recoil, and the resulting bashing of metal and timber would drown out the chattering of the militiamen. Then they were in view; the body of the rank and file Brotherhood contingent, all of them to travel the sloping snowdrifts ahead to the next village to patrol.

"We’re approaching the main gate. This is your stop!”

The driver’s voice was shrill and loud as he tried to make himself heard over the horse’s hooves and ambient chattering around him. As Shinsou started to unload the wagon, and two men helped Amari from the cart and ushered her into an empty barrack, he suddenly felt a chill shoot up his spine.

I wonder if either of us will be ok?

[Mari]

Again, Amari found herself drifting off, and again - Shinsou was there. His presence bringing an unfamiliar comfort and warmth to Amari. It seeped deep into her core and rattled her. With each passing moment she suspected something to happen. To feel a blade slice through her flesh or feel his hot breath against her neck, but none of that happened.

Instead. Amari was welcomed into a comforting dreamless sleep by gentle touches as his fingers glided through knotted hair. She was rarely afforded such luxuries, and her body which was still healing sorely needed it. She slept so soundly it was almost as though she weren't breathing, if not for the slight murmurs that escaped her lips when he shifted out from underneath her. Amari would have been happy to continue to rest there - but she was shaken awake by Shinsou. Groggy and confused she was faintly aware that they were moving on.

Now the two sat in the back of the horse drawn cart. Amari still groggy, and Shinsou slowly drifting off. “Shinsou…” Amari mumbled, rubbing her eyes gingerly. “Where we going now?”

Shinsou yawned, “Brotherhood encampment.”

He fell silent, and before long he slipped into sleep. His head finding its way to Amari’s lap. Amari fidgeted. Uneasy at first with the sudden and constant contact. She sighed. Finally accepting it. “You’ve done so much for me…” Her words were soft whispers as the back of her hand grazed his cheek. “The least I can do is afford you a comfortable rest.” She’d be lying to herself if she said she didn’t find the action somewhat pleasant. A smile found its way to her lips. I like this feeling she mused to herself.

“Yo Sampson. Check it out.” The man jutted a finger back toward the inside of the carriage. Sampson followed his comrade’s gaze. There, in the back of the carriage lay Shinsou Van Osiris, the executor. Resting peacefully within the woman’s lap. Her hand gently nestled in his hair, fingers combing through it. Sampson didn’t approve.

“Amari?”

Amari glanced up at Sampson. Giving him a confused look.

Sampson continued. “Let him rest, you should move out from under him. Sit opposite.”

Amari frowned. She didn’t want to move. She wanted to stay right here. She glanced down at his face. He wasn’t screaming tonight. Amari bit her lower lip, feeling conflicted. She wanted to stay, she wanted to feel the warmth from his body as he slept.

“Please, Amari.”

With Sampsons final request Amari gave a small, quiet nod and shifted out from underneath Shinsou. She sat opposite him, wrapping herself in a small blanket. Eventually drifting off.

Amari awoke to a jolt, she snapped awake, wide eyes glancing around. “What!? Where!?” It took her a few moments to realise she was in the back of a horse drawn carriage with Shinsou - heading toward an encampment. She had a sudden and deep feeling of unease wash over her. Again, there was that feeling that something didn’t feel right. “I’m scared.” Amari muttered, clutching her shirt between her hands.

“Don’t be. These are my men. Nothing will happen to you here.”

“But-”

Amari gasped as Shinsou shifted closer, breaching the gap between them. He carefully scooped up her hands and enveloped them in his warm grip. “Amari.” he added in a stern tone. “Nothing happens here without my authority. You will be safe.”

Amari nodded, “Ok.” She gave him a stern look as he went to pull away. Her hands gripped his, stopping his movement. “Shinsou...I’m trusting you with this.” Her words were heavy with meaning and an emotion she couldn’t place. It was difficult for her to admit to trust someone, even if it was only a little. It was a big step for Amari and she hoped that he understood the gravity of those words.

Shinsou nodded, and helped her off the carriage. Before she could get her bearing she was scooped up and lead away by the two men who had accompanied them the night before.

Amari glanced back at Shinsou, clearly alarmed as the two men ushered her toward an empty barrack. It was a little too much for her to take in, Amari wasn’t sure who these people were. She didn’t trust any of them. Hell, she was only just beginning to be comfortable around Shinsou. Now she was once again being taken elsewhere, against her will. One of them placing a hand on her still healing back. She winced, and jerked away. “N-no. Stop.” She pleaded. “What’s going on? Where are you-” He placed his hand on her back again. “It’s alright Amari. We’re here to help.”

“STOP that! Shinsou!” Amari called out again. The two men paused and exchanged glances of uncertainty.

“It’s fine.” Shinsou said as he approached the men. “Amari, you’re safe here.” He offered her a reassuring smile despite the uncertainty he felt.

His words offered her little solace. Amari hesitated, before reaching out and tugging gently on his sleeve. “Can you just…” Her voice trailed off. She fidgeted awkwardly. “I don’t mean anything by it I mean...but can you just stay with me tonight?”

Samson chuckled from behind her and Amari’s cheeks flared a soft hue, “I mean. Near. Not with I mean…”

“I’ll watch over you.”

And with that small sentence, Amari felt a flood of relief wash over her. She loosed her grip on his dirtied and stained clothes, and allowed the others to show her where she’d be staying.

------------------
3 Months Later
------------------


Amari sat nestled against a thick tree, her legs dangling gently over its branch. She was reading a large print book intended for children. A book on fairy tales. Stories of kings and queens, of trolls - and lore of elves and fae. She found it all so interesting. She loved it. Every so often her eyes would glance up at the path which lead into the encampment. As though she were waiting for someone.

That someone just so happened to be passing underneath. Amari felt a sense of elation bubble up within her. She felt ecstatic, happy. The tree she sat on thrummed with energy, it ached and its leaves grew more vibrant. Small spring-time flowers burst forth and erupted upon its surface, all small things Amari didn’t notice. She didn’t notice her own latent abilities.

Her eyes were on him. “Shinsou!” She called out before launching herself off the tree.

The Telgradian had little time to react. “Amari? What are you- shit!” He just managed to catch her before the two tumbled into the snow. Amari grinned, straddling him - her palms on his chest. Unaware of the more sexual connotations of her position.

“You’re back!”

“Y-yeh.” He replied sheepishly.

“I managed to read two whole books whilst you were away. Oh! Francis made such a mess of everything again.” Amari started to ramble, attempting to tell him everything he had missed the past few weeks he had been absent. “Sampson was strutting around the place. I swear - he gets his nose wrinkled at the strangest things….”


Amari paused, glancing down at Shinsou. So much had happened these past few months. He had helped her settle into the compound. Introduced her to most of the men, and the few women who comprised of the unit. He made her feel welcomed. Many of them did. She had slowly let down her heavy guard and started opening up to people. Although many of the things she said just proved how little she knew, and how naive she truly was.

Shinsou helped her with her studies, with reading, and writing. He taught her of the other provinces and of Corone - where they’d eventually make their home.

Amari cooked for him, and relished in the smiles and praise he and the others bestowed upon her. She had often been chastised for taking up all the cleaning and cooking duties, but Amari just wanted to keep herself busy.

“Amari. You ok?”

Amari blinked, realising that she had been sitting atop of Shinsou, staring blankly into space silently for the past few minutes. “O-oh...Yes..I mean…”

Amari cleared her throat.

“When we first met…” She said thoughtfully, her fingers gently tracing down the middle of his chest, dancing over the curves and ruffles of shirt. “You asked me about my soul. I don’t have any strong powers like that but-” She leaned down. Pressing her ear to his chest. She closed her eyes so she could focus on the gentle beat of his heart.

“But?” Came his reply, voice soft so as not to disturb her. He rose a hand to lie gently upon her back. His fingers tracing invisible patterns of their own.

“Something didn’t feel right.” Amari said, “you didn’t feel right. It made me cautious, but these last few months…” Amari fell silent again. She wasn’t good with words, and she was treading into dangerous territory. She could feel her own heart thud hard and fast against her chest - betraying her attempt at a calm demeanor. Amari wasn’t sure what these feelings meant. Why she longed to see him each day, why his presence had such a calming effect on her. Nor why she had strange urges to be as close to him as physically possible. The thought of kissing him even crossed her mind.




“I’m rambling...I mean to say - I think...there’s something wrong with your soul Shin...it’s almost as though it’s hurt.”

She felt his tender movements cease and took it as a sign that she had said something wrong. Amari quickly sat up, clambering off him as she laughed awkwardly. “Ahah..ha..I’m sorry. That sounds stupid right? A hurt soul. That doesn’t make sense.” She lightly wrapped herself on the head with her knuckles. “I don’t make sense.”


She composed herself, dusting the snow off of her equally white attire. “It’s good to see you back. I’ve missed you. How long are you staying this time?”

[Shinsou Vaan Osiris]

Amari was careful to voice her concerns as lightly as the flight of a butterfly. Her carefully chosen words slipped with almost a delicate grace through her soft lips and made their way to the somewhat ragged Telgradian, who raised an eyebrow. As vibrant orange streaked across the cloudless sky above, he replayed his companion’s diagnosis over and over in his mind.

There’s something wrong with your soul, Shin.

The words were a direct parallel with those spoken by one of the Ai’Bron after his encounter with the mighty John Cromwell. They troubled him at the time and troubled him still even now, but what fascinated Osiris beyond compare was that the red headed woman, of all people, was also able to sense the wound. But what good would it do trying to explain it to her? After all, if even the greatest medical practitioners on the face of the continent couldn’t figure it out, the Telgradian had no chance. Before he could conjure up an answer for Amari, the beautiful redhead spoke again; this time with words of affection.

She missed me? The Telgradian wondered how long it had been since he had heard those words. As his eyes wandered to her beautiful form she seemed to glow, her expression showing warmth that had been absent up until now. Amari’s eyes hid much from him but revealed everything he wanted to know. She was happy here; happy with him, away from the brutality of slavers, away from the constant torture and the pain.

“Amari, I…” Shinsou’s voice was as gentle as a murmur, but at that moment crunching footsteps through the snow interrupted him, causing Amari to frown as her anticipation was broken. As the steps grew louder and quicker, the Telgradian turned to find his aide Samson rushing to his side.

His expression was furrowed.

“Pardon the interruption, Executor Shinsou, but it’s urgent. Our forces intercepted a lone man at the gate demanding to speak to you. He claims to be…”

Telos Soltair

Like a sudden onset of nausea, a tremendous wave of numbness swept within the Telgradian’s gut and he cursed to himself before Samson had a chance to finish the sentence. The presence he felt confirmed the name lost to his ears in that moment. The calm he felt moments ago was suddenly washed away by a myriad of contrasting emotions; anger, confusion and, as his eyes turned back to Amari, concern. How did they find him without Shinsou sensing them before? How was that even possible?

Samson found himself waiting for some sort of command as Amari looked upon Shinsou with concern. Something was wrong. The name Samson had spoken had completely changed the Telgradian’s demeanour and drained the color from his face; instead of the calm and collected man of ten minutes ago, a more rigid, almost frightened figure stood before her. She lacked understanding and this frustrated her.

“Shin? Are you ok? What’s happening?”

A moment passed while Osiris considered his options. The strongest man he had ever met stood outside the gates of his stronghold, waiting to engage him for the first time since he had departed Telgradia under a cloud. The worry that plagued him all this time about being located by Telgradia’s Council of Five before he could muster his forces had now come to fruition. Would he face Telos? Could he still run? Could he talk to him?

What about Amari? Shinsou looked once at the woman, regarding her with eyes that flickered between anger and sadness. She wouldn’t understand the danger she was in; the danger that he was putting her in by being here. Her glowing expression drooped into concern. “Shinsou, answer me,” came the breathless whisper of a woman teetering on the edge of tears.

Osiris made his decision, and he paced to her side in mere seconds. He pulled her closer, and instinctively, she turned into him. “I must speak with Telos,” the man mumbled into Amari’s copper strands. “Please go with Samson for now. If anything happens, he’ll keep you safe.” There was a confidence in his words, but they both knew he was trying to convince himself. “I’ll be back soon,” he continued, “and don’t worry, everything will be fine.”

The pair found the rugged and weathered Samson standing beside them with horses that had been ordered across the encampment moments ago in tow. The pair of stallions, Salvarian red hares to be precise, pawed at the icy earth beneath them, puffs of warm breath hovering around their flared, paper-thin nostrils. As if their presence alone was a catalyst for a feeling of dread, Amari hurried to Shinsou, her skirt billowing about her legs as she drifted across the snow dusted courtyard to smother Shinsou in a tight hug. In that moment, for those few seconds, the harsh world around him melted away and sadness gripped the Telgradian militant.

“Don’t worry. The horses are just a precaution.” Shinsou convinced himself as he pulled back and held her at arm’s length. At this, Amari pulled back slightly to gaze up at her protector, looking through his eyes as if he were a ghost.

“Come back safe.”

***

Alone, Shinsou skirted around a pile of brown frosted leaves, the innumerable flashing fragments shining in the brilliant wintry dawn light, for today there was no weather; no wind, no cloud, just sub-zero temperatures. Even the leaf stems lay white and sharp. Ahead the wide path glistened like white quartz, carving the camp in two and leading to the main gate where a swell of black and red clad forces gathered. There was no wind and were it not for the biting cold Osiris wouldn't have noticed the air at all. He was more accustomed to these temperatures meaning moisture, but it wasn't that which affected him. Telos's mere presence, his power alone, made the atmosphere tinder dry and dehydrated him every bit as fast as summer heat. With each breath, each tender step, precious drops deserted him and a headache grew.

Ahead, a low metal gate stood at least three times the height of the wall on either side of it that encircled the camp. The entrance to the camp was as silent as a crypt, despite the presence of almost a third of his guardsman and almost as eerie as the armed guards surrounded the figure claiming to be Telos Soltair. As a pair of elaborately robed attendants attempted to usher Shinsou to his destination, the Telgradian waved them off and the semi-circle of Castigar men broke away to let him through.

At first Shinsou’s eyes were cast to the snowy earthen floor, but he lifted his head.

It was him. Telos’s face had the same structure as Osiris’s; high cheekbones and symmetrical. He had the same gold eyes and pale skin. He was still slender despite his years, toned and not at all stooped. Around his eyes were laughter lines in just the right amount. One would suppose the man was often happy, but at that moment he was deadly serious, his expression unmoving in the wake of the dozens of polearms pointed at him from the surrounding Brotherhood entourage.

The Brotherhood's spears moved in sync with Telos as he paced forward slightly, the loose fitting black garb with a flower patterned haori drifting slightly in the breeze. His face was just covered by the strands of his long, black hair. On the side of his uniform, his sword Odayakana Kaze swayed in its ivory sheath.

His eyes swayed over Shinsou, who stood at ease. The Telgradian stared straight into him.

"Are you here to kill me?"

Telos ignored the question. Instead, he brushed aside a strand of hair and cleared his throat.

"...You're different, somehow, than the last time we met."

There was a moment's pause and Osiris’s expression barely changed. If he was irritated by the ignorance, Telos didn’t show it. Instead, he took a moment to look around.

"Where's Jaeger Keats, Shinsou?"

The silence was almost tangible as the atmosphere grew tense. He noticed a subtle change in the Shinsou's body language, but he couldn’t place it. Meanwhile, the Telgradian shifted on his feet. He had mostly forgotten about the events of when he had first arrived on Althanas, back when Jaeger Keats of the Telgradian army had betrayed his country and restored an amnesiac Shinsou to his former self. Well, almost. Keats had been expecting the dark emperor of the Jal Shey and to take control of the bioweapon called Temperance in order to rule Telgradia. Sadly, for Keats, things didn't quite transpire the way he had wanted. Shinsou revived; just not the version he wanted, and the two had become embroiled in a clash of ideals.

"Dead." Shinsou said bluntly. "He wanted to break Temperance's seal. I had to stop him before it was too late."

From beneath a strand of hair, a pair of mellow, golden eyes gazed back at him. "Temperance? Why should I believe that, after all you two did together? Are you harbouring him?"

Shinsou clucked in exasperation. With a shrug, he chewed his bottom lip for a moment.

"You already know he's dead. You've known ever since you got here, because if you managed to find me here in Salvar you would have been able to sense my power, and therefore, by extension, his. That means you would have been able to tell when his life disappeared, too, and what that meant. But, if your senses betray you and you need proof, go to the Cartographer and see for yourself. He'll be the stain I left on the southern wall. Now..." Shinsou said, bowing his head and running the fingers of his right hand through his brown mop haircut, "...are you here to impose the Council's will on me, or not? I knew it was only a matter of time before someone from the Council of Five to showed up; I thought they may have sent old Riisa or even that lunatic Massimo. I didn't think, given the circumstances, they'd send my father to be my executioner."

Telos closed his eyes and breathed a soft sigh. He was a calm and collected man and very rarely would he allow anyone to burn through his almost limitless stock of patience. That's why he had been chosen by the Council of Five to be a teacher. He looked upon his son, wondering, just for a moment, if he could tell him the truth. Soltair had his orders and he knew what it was to disobey them. But there was something different about the boy; something running through him that made him feel that his orders were misguided, or that his commander hadn't told him the whole truth about Shinsou Vaan Osiris, or at least this incarnation of him.

"Dxun Ra, the Captain-Commander, sent the entire Council of Five out to kill you. Not one or two of us; the entire Council. You are very lucky to still be alive."

A growl escaped Shinsou's lips. He shot a glance at Telos, looking for any hint of untruth in his eyes. There was none.

"That's against the Council's code, is it not?" Osiris tapped his fingers against Shira's hilt. "Never in a thousand years of Telgradian history had the Council of Five had less than two Captains stationed in Garah. But, why are you telling me all this? If you have orders to kill me, why did you not just do it when you had the chance?"

“I thought it would have been a simple task, doubtless,” Telos began, "...but I sense you have developed into something much more than the Shinsou of a year ago. Your growth is frightening, but I have...concerns...about Dxun Ra's motives for wanting you out of the picture. I have the same concerns about why he wanted the council out of Telgradia all at once. But my orders are clear - the only way to avoid the inevitable is to come with me, alive, so we can figure this out."

Shinsou looked into his eyes, blinked, and shook his head.

"Not a chance."

[Mari]

“S-shin….” Amari’s whispers dropped into the wind which soundlessly carried away her unheard heartbroken plea. He assured her it was going to be alright. He promised her he’d return. So why couldn’t she shake the feeling that she’d never see him again?

“Miss Amari.”

Amari turned to look at Sampson, wiping the tears from her eyes away with the back of her hands. “Samson….” She breathed, “I-I have this feeling in my chest…” Amari wasn’t sure how to describe it, fear? Worry? Pain? The more she dwelled on it, the more it ached and tugged at her.

Samson smiled, stepping forward he reached out and ruffled her hair. “I understand Amari.” The action did little to comfort her. Amari furrowed her brows, Samson continued. “Which is why, I think you should follow him.”


*****

She thought she was going to throw up. Amari clutched the tree, legs shaking. She felt as though she was choking, and that the air had just been knocked out of her chest. This man….this man was meant to be Shinsou’s father and yet…

Shinsou was either going to die, or leave forever.

“YOU CAN’T!” Amari shouted, suddenly pushing forward and placing herself firmly between Shinsou and Telos, the man who appeared to be his father. She held her arms out wide to her sides in a rather futile attempt to shield Shinsou. Amari’s emerald and golden gaze burned into the man who stood before her. Challenging him to defy her.

Telos stared at her with stern eyes. His demeanor demanded attention and respect, two things Amari refused to give him. She wasn’t sure if his presence caused her heart to beat hard against her chest, or if it was the conversation she had overheard and so zealously burst into.

“Your loyalty to Shinsou is commendable, young lady,” Telos said, wiping away a strand of hair from his eyes as they locked on to Amari, “but this situation is beyond both your understanding and your remit. If you want to help him, the best thing you can do is to convince him to come with me before the rest of the Council of Five find him”.

“It can be fixed right!” Amari cried out in pained shouts. She turned to Shinsou, who looked alarmed. Amari took two hurried steps toward him, breaching the small gap. The wind picked up and blew her hair toward him, tickling his cheeks with fierey red tendrils. Amari clasped her hands over his, squeezing a soothing warmth into them. “I can fix it!” Amari pleaded, not understanding the severity of the situation. She bought his hands close to her chest, squeezing them tighter in fear that if she were to let go now, he’d slip through her fingers and disappear. “I can fix your soul Shin….” Her words weren’t reassuring, she was begging him. Crying out for him to stay without saying as such. Wanting nothing more than to spend the rest of her days by his side. Torn soul be damned. “I can….”

Shinsou looked at her with golden eyes filled with rue. “Amari…” He breathed, gently tugging away from her grip. Amari’s heart sank, and all the willpower in the world could not stop the tears that brimmed her emerald eyes and spilled over her cheeks in crestfallen waterfalls. Normally when the man uttered her name it felt as though she were floating, as though those three syllables lit her world and soul alight. Now….now it was as though the world was crumbling. All the pain in the world, all the torture and all the abuse...it was nothing compared to this. The way he uttered her name in that low, drawling tone. The look of finality in his eyes and how he distanced himself from her.

It crushed her.

“S-Shinsou….” Her voice trembled as his hands finally slipped away from hers. “Please don’t go. I can’t...”

His amber eyes rose to the man behind Amari, Amari turned, and offered him a glare. It was clear Shinsou had already made his decision, and that was to leave.

[Shinsou Vaan Osiris]

Up until now, there had been no creature alive on Althanas that could change Shinsou’s mind once he had made it up. He looked up at the begging Amari, then to his father and finally to the horizon. A glimmer of sun, a single shred of light, appeared in the inky, cloud smudged sky. The dead, frosty leaves, dropped by their tainted millions from the imposing tangle of the Salvic trees, formed more of the base's floor than the frozen earth. The bitter odours of the rotting foliage mixed with the scents of the cold soil filled his nostrils.

In that moment, his senses had come alive. Osiris could feel more in that time than he had done for his entire life.

As the Salvic breeze made his coat flap in the wind like the sail of a ship and Amari’s words reached him, Shinsou emerged from his daze. They invigorated him like smelling salts. It was as if he had been punched in the head and someone was shouting for him to fight back, encouraging him to resist. The urge was intoxicating.

What am I thinking? There’s no way they’ll let me live. And Amari, she’ll die. I won’t allow it!

The Telgradian kicked into life, acting on instinct alone. He darted a short distance over the snow, through a weave of frozen, brittle branches towards Telos, like a viper hunting down a mouse. He was light footed despite his weight and rarely allowed a single twig to break underneath his soaked leather boots. In a single smooth stroke, the sharp edge of Shira sliced through the hundreds of vapour droplets from his pounding breath and stopped mere millimetres away from the stubbled skin of his father’s throat.

Shinsou’s brown, dishevelled hair tumbled about the wind in heavy, saturated strands. Despite the force of the gust and the beating of his heart against his chest, his golden eyes barely blinked; they remained locked on to his designated vanquisher with keen intent as the Telgradian held the blade of Shira straight and true to her neck.

“Do you think I’ll just come back to Telgradia on your say so?” Shinsou asked, his voice steely and cold. “I have people here I want to protect. I want to show you and the Council of Five the truth, but it will be on my terms and my terms alone. Until then, I am here on Althanas, and rest assured there is no better security than that.”

It took Shinsou a few moments for it to dawn upon him he wasn't dreaming about the sharp point digging subtly into his waist. As he tried to right his balance, he glanced down to his right to see the blade of a menacing looking blade of dark matter not unlike his own pressing against his white coat, expertly placed and ready to strike. Thin, wiry forks of electricity bolted around them both, accompanied by a crackling that ripped through the cold air.

“You know what this is, Shinsou. You know what I can do. Even then, you’ll still challenge me, though you know the alternative is that you’ll die? You won’t let yourself be saved?” Telos’s voice was calm but firm. “What do you hope to protect if you’re dead?”

Shinsou knew that in the time it would take for him to draw the razor sharp edge of his sword across his father’s throat, he would already be dead, or dying. He slowly lowered Shira, turning slightly away from Telos to alleviate the hostilities, and allowed his boots to press into the snow dusted floor. As he pivoted carefully, Shinsou felt his soles mashing the crunching leaves into an icy, watery mixture underneath him. His pounding heart and Amari’s looks of concern only added to the tension of the moment.

It was now, in a private moment of anger, Shinsou cursed his reaction. He hadn’t done anything to help anyone by submitting to his feeligns the way he had. Telos would be even more determined to subdue him now. Amari would possibly even be taken in as well. There was only one way to stop this madness. Cooler council would have to prevail.

Shinsou had already sheathed Shira and leaned pensively by the perimeter wall in silence. Telos was studying the expressions of the Telgradian as he conducted his business, watching as his son walked over to Amari.

Smart move, kid.

Shinsou turned, clad in bright, visible white, and finally raised his head, letting the haughty gold of his eyes meet the cold emerald of Amari’s. The hollow drumming of his heart pounded into his skull. They both knew what was coming. She could see it in his eyes, in his body language, and as she fought to hold back the tears the words finally passed his lips.

“It’s over, Amari. I have no choice,” Osiris dipped his head in sorrow, praying the woman understood what he was doing and why. He already knew she wouldn’t. “If I don’t go with him now, things will get much, much worse for you here. I’m truly sorry. I’ll be-”

Shinsou’s words were cut immediately short. Bewilderment was a word that could only begin to explain the look that crossed his face as Telos’s cloaked form dissolved into mist right in front of his eyes, fading into the day like a shadow retracting from the edges of sunlight. The Telgradian’s eyes hurriedly tried to follow the hidden form of his father as he danced around the back of him like a phantom, not a noise emanating from his trained feet.

Telos was so quick that not even Shinsou could prevent the blow that knocked him unconscious. The golden-eyed Telgradian fell into his father’s arms, eyes closed, and the whole Brotherhood guard moved in unison. In the frigid muck of the base’s perimeter, maintaining control was more important to Telos than showing off. It did concern him, however, that they'd switched to a panicked all-out attack.

Time to go. I don’t want to spill any blood today.

Adopting an uncharacteristically grim expression, Shinsou’s father placed his hand upon his son’s back, muttered an incantation and shattered into a million tiny fragments of light. The abandoned Amari stood there, as silent as a crypt, her emerald and gold eyes fixated on nothing as her world crumbled around her.

[Storm Veritas]

Thread Title: Soul Alight
Judgment Type: Condensed Rubric
Participants: Shinsou Vaan Osiris, Mari

Plot: 16/30

This was an extremely difficult category for me to score. I ran into quite a few contradictions in pacing, since you both have very different styles. Mari is clearly action-oriented, teasing a romantic tale the entire thread, her seductive character a hallmark of her style. Shin is one of Althanas’s great historians, referencing a deep, involved arc that involves several dream sequences, memories/flashbacks, and wild pivots to setting.

There were come continuity problems. I wasn’t sure if Mari was yelling at the bandits or vice versa in an early post. Shin’s dream sequence really should have been centered, italicized, or differentiated to make it clearly its own work.

I’d really like to see more compromise between the two characters in terms of picking a pace that works for both of you. Early in the thread, this felt pretty strong; you both told a straightforward rescue tale that seemed to move smoothly and without too many problems. I thought Shin’s “Cavum Ira” dream was a real pivot point for the thread, really disrupting the pace and changing the dynamics of what was happening.

For setting, I thought you both did a fine job. Mari, I thought early on you missed a few opportunities to really bolster the setting (such as discussing the taste or scent of the cigar in Gabe’s mouth, contrasted to the taste of blood in Mari’s mouth), but this got better as the thread evolved. The pinnacle of exploring multiple sensations came when you two enjoyed the whiskey Shin had taken from my character – well played.

Things moved along, pacing was not always consistent. Plot was very ambitious, although unfortunately the two character’s stories did not mesh particularly well.


Character: 20/30

Character is definitely a strength for both of you. I know exactly what I’m in for from Mari and Shin, and you were very consistent writing as I would expect these tortured characters to behave.

The challenge definitely came with interlacing the two characters together. The temptation between the two never felt like it was going to pop like I expected, and when one of you bunnied for the other, it was glaringly obvious. Shin pivoted from quite a deep, philosophical, brooding character into what Mari portrayed as a bit of an oafish everyman that borders on simple. Mari’s intricate seductive capabilities often slipped right by Shin, who was more focused on the enormous picture.

Your personas were both very well established with rare exception, but again your understanding of your partners’ characters was clearly lacking. Shin seemed rough and brutish, then compassionate in the post where he carries Mari after forging ahead of her; Mari is probably not as well developed in Shin’s posts as she could be.


Prose: 10/30

Mechanics were a KILLER here. You two appeared to at least spellcheck, with more typos than misspellings (“rivaled” misspelled “rivalled” and see-through and hellhole need to be combined by Mari; Shin incorrectly referenced “suspension of disbelief” when it should have simply been “disbelief”, and described eyes as “diluted” when they should have been “dilated”). There were a couple of quirks that are also easy to fix. For example, the phrase is not “a myriad of”, but simply “myriad”; the word “of” is redundant.

There was one thing that stuck out like absolute nails on the chalkboard for me, and I have to attribute it to Mari.

Mari, you need to write in complete sentences. I literally lost count of how many sentence fragments you used in the active narrative. It is one thing to write fragmented thoughts or dialogue that skews, but when telling the tale PLEASE make sure each sentence has a subject and a predicate. Some examples (in spoiler tags for mercy):

” Away from the rest of the gang”
“Snapping it all tightly together”
“That she was so close, yet so far to escape”
“This time leaving a smear of blood”
“Slowly pulling herself into a standing position”
“Lost in a sea of blood “


This went on far too much. Shin, you were also not without guilt here, with a few cumbersome run-on sentences. Examples:

“What remained of the dusk had been smothered completely by a sheet of thick wintry clouds, and now only the shining blade of Stygian could provide Osiris with a light, one that could not be stifled thanks to the enchantment sung into it by the high bard of Raiaera”

“As the crimson haired girl writhed and wriggled under Gabe’s heel, the man saw fit to grind the boot against her cheek, grazing it and causing fresh crimson to trickle down her face as he demanded to know what was going on.”



Wildcard: 6/10

I thought you two were ambitious, and wrote very, very well – in spots. Consistency, and continuity would have really made a good thread a great one.


Final Score: 52/100

Shinsou (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?31403) receives:


1320 EXP!
110 GP!


Mari (”http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?31803”) receives:


1040 EXP!
110 GP!



Congratulations!

[Shinsou Vaan Osiris]

All rewards added!