Saved

[Varia]

Saved

"All the things that you never ever told me,
All the smiles that are ever gonna haunt me,
All the wounds that are ever gonna scar me,

You are never coming home."


[ Dramatis personae ]
Alaina Varia (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?t=6075)
Fate Varia (http://althanas.com/world/showthread.php?t=6130)
Chance WinterSent (http://www.althanas.com/world/showpost.php?p=72769&postcount=1)
Aiden Darkstorm (http://www.althanas.com/world/showpost.php?p=69393&postcount=1)
Lillian Sesthal (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?t=3390)

* * *


Pulling in a deep breath, Alaina looked up at the scruffy, tanned face of her husband. His emerald eyes met hers, and sparkled as the corner's of his lips turned up into a smile. “I love you, babe,” he said softly. Alaina smiled in response, and reached a hand up, placing it on his lean, muscled chest. His large hand reached up shortly after and cupped hers. “And I'll miss you,” he finished.

“I'll miss you too,” she whispered. She could already feel the ache in her chest from being away from him, and he was still standing in front of her. Taking his hand off hers, he leaned in, placing both of his rough hands on either side of her small neck. He let his head tilt forward until his forehead met hers, and he rested there for a moment, looking into her eyes. She could feel hot tears rising up, ready to spill down her cheeks at any moment.

“Everything will be alright, love,” he said. Leaning forward even more, he tilted his face upward, so their lips met, and he kissed her hard.

“Ewww!” Alaina broke away from Aiden's embrace just in time to see Chance, the male half of their set of twins, scrunching his face in apparent disgust and disapproval. Next to him, was his sister Fate, covering her mouth with one small hand, attempting to stem the sudden tide of giggles. Alaina and Aiden both laughed, blushing a little at forgetting about the presence of their children.

“You just wait, little man,” Alaina said, while reaching down and smoothing Chance's messy locks. “One day you'll find a pretty girl you want to kiss.”

Chance scrunched his nose even further and shook his head fervently. The sandy blonde mop of hair that his mother had just smoothed rufffled again with the sharp motions. “All girls are gross,” he stated. At this, Fate's mouth dropped open and chubby little hands went to her hips. Aiden chuckled and Alaina rolled her eyes.

“You're calling your mom and your sister gross?” She raised her eyebrows at her young son. Chance furrowed his brow, as if deep in thought.

“Well.. You guys aren't really girls,” said Chance, looking to his father for support. Alaina turned towards Aiden and eyed him. Aiden, caught by surprise at the sudden spotlight, merely shrugged, then started laughing. Assured of no smart remark from her husband, Alaina turned back to her son.

“If I'm not a girl, then why is me kissing your father gross?” asked Alaina, a smile stretching across her face. Chance shook his head as if to ask why his mother, all intelligent as she was, didn't know.

“Because kissing is gross.” he stated.

Alaina laughed and shook her head. “What isn't gross, then?”

“Spiders!” Chance exclaimed. “Spiders are cool,” he finished with a nod. Fate and Alaina both scrunched up their noses in disgust. Chance and Aiden continued smiling.

“Just like your father,” Alaina said, laughing. Turning back to Aiden, She took in a deep breath. “Now,” she started, sighing a little as she spoke. “Fate and I will be at my mother's by tonight.”

Fate groaned quietly and Alaina gave her daughter a pitying look. “I still don't know why daddy and Chance can't come,” she said.

Alaina sighed and reached down to pat her daughter's shoulder. “I told you sweetie. Grandma Varia asked for you and I specifically. Also, daddy has to stay here until they finish his sword. It'll just be a day or two, and then we'll all be in Dheathain together."


* * *

Alaina stirred. Something hard beneath her hip made her gasp in pain, and she sat up suddenly. Looking down she found the sharp point of a rock had been her alarm clock. Tossing it away idly, she peered at the girl laying before her. Curled up on Alaina's long black coat was Fate, all obsidian curls and pouty lips, still fast asleep despite her mother's movement. Reaching forward, Alaina placed a hand gently on her daughter's shoulder, feeling the comforting motion of the child's breath.

Alaina looked idly around the room, gathering in the harsh surroundings once again. In her dreams she'd hoped so dearly to wake up and be back at home with Aiden's warm body next to her in bed. Instead, here she sat on the cold, damp cement floor of the cell she shared with her daughter. She'd been in this pit for what she guessed was two days. Everything in the room seemed a murky shade of brown or grey, the only light coming from one guttural candle high on the wall near the door. The door itself was all bars, and looking out of it, Alaina could see far down the hall. No guard stood at the door, as the one who put her here was worried by the mist that hovered around her body. People feared what they didn't understand, and the man having never met a Salus before, feared her powers. This was pure luck.

Getting up as quietly as she could, Alaina walked to the door and peered cautiously out of it. She saw nothing but a dark corridor with a heavy wooden door at the end. ”And there's sure to be even bigger, heavier doors shaped like men behind that,” she thought to herself. Surely the one who brought her here hadn't done it alone.


* * *

The ride through the forest had been peaceful. Her and her baby girl, sitting atop the large chestnut horse that Aiden had borrowed, somehow. She was quite certain that the person loaning the horse wasn't in on the negotiations. Alaina couldn't think of a single friend of Aiden's that had a horse that they could so easily loan him for a few days. Even so, the ride was nice. The forest was awash with sounds of life. The two heard birds chirping and insects buzzing. The breeze was nice, and the canopy of trees blocked out the harsh sun. Alaina sat, holding the reins of the horse around the chubby middle of her daughter.

Fate had been exceptionally quiet, too wrapped up in staring at all the pretty plants and interesting wildlife that wandered around them. Alaina was as quiet as her daughter, simply guiding the horse and enjoying the view. Neither one heard the person creeping behind them, just out of sight. Neither one had time to react before the person struck.

Something hit Alaina with enormous and sudden force. It did not hit her flesh, it seemed to sink into her muscles. Something shot into her skin and shut off every muscle from the neck down. She slid helplessly, and pathetically from her perch. Though she couldn't move to stop the fall, she still felt every bit of it. Shortly after, a squeal erupted from behind, and she felt the weight of her daughter fall beside her.

A hand slid to her arm, and rolled her over onto her back. Staring her dead in the face was a man she'd never seen in her life, but could easily recognize from all of the late night talks she'd had with Aiden around camp fires. All those stories about his first family. All those horror stories she'd forced him to drag up. Smiling at her now, all pale skin, blood red hair and grey eyes, was Ishadin.

"That Aiden really should look after his women a bit better,” he said. His eyes trailed to the side, and Alaina could only guess he was looking at her daughter. “And I see he's got another little one! How nice! I shall love killing you two in front of him," he spat. Alaina felt a hand touch the center of her chest. “Time to sleep, for now, however.” And then, the world went black.


* * *

Alaina paced the small room, wondering what to do. A sudden thought hit her, and walking over to the door, she found the lock on the other side. Snaking her hand through the bars, she grabbed hold of it and shut her eyes, concentrating. She imagined her aura flowing into the lock, and forming into a key. She tried to turn it in her mind, but felt the force of the lock pushing against it. Sighing, but her spirit not broken, she imagined a different key, and tried again. I just need to see the key, and then it will be easy.

Alaina slumped to the floor around the 20th try, hand still on the lock. She buried her face in her other hand, knees pulled up to her chest, and tried some more.

[DarkStorm]

The candle's flame flickered fitfully in the weak breeze that slipped quietly through the small gap between the window and the sill. Shadows danced, receded, and flooded back as the fire shuddered. Beads of melted wax ran down the length of the four inch tall white candle, pooling on the heavy wooden table beneath it. The table was old, its surface scratched and gouged in several places, though it retained a solid, almost dignified appearance. The swirls in the wood spoke of its age, each of the many growth rings speaking of a year passed, gone into the murky darkness of time past. His eyes lingered on it, examining each line, curve, and contrast, but saw none of it.

Aiden's face was lit only dimly by the uneasy light of the erratic, tiny feather of flame. Elbow to table, and chin resting on his fist, the man was motionless. In the soft light, the angles of his face were hard, and seemed to be chiseled from amber. The smile that had been a near permanent fixture on his face since Alaina came into his life was nowhere in evidence, as mysteriously missing as she. The lines carved into his forehead from long years of frowning were beginning to show once more.

In the depths of his awareness, he knew something was wrong. Alaina should have been here long ago. Something had happened. Anger and fear pulsed through Aiden, and instinctively, impulsively, he sat up straight, balled his right hand into a fist, and brought it down against the table with all of his strength. Like a lightning bolt in the depths of a storm, a loud Boom! was followed by darkness, as the candle's flame was extinguished. Chance stirred in his bed as the room fell to shadows.


***

"What the hell do you want me to do, Alaina?" Aiden spat, his anger peaking through the normally soft and loving demeanor he always showed his wife. "Would you rather I just stop, and let Chance continue to not know how to protect himself?" The clumsy wording reflected his emotional turbulence. Normally, he was a very articulate man. Now, he sounded worse than a gorilla trying to sing opera.

"No. I don't want you to not teach him, I want you to be careful while doing so!"Alaina replied. She was referring to the rather ugly bruise Aiden had left on his son's shoulder earlier that morning.

"You know that was an accident, Alaina. I didn't mean to hit him that hard." Aiden said.

"You shouldn't have hit him at all." Alaina replied. "You should have pulled back."

"Oh, yes, because the people that really want to kill him will do the same!" Aiden took a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself. It only partially succeeded. He wasn't really angry at Alaina; he was angry at himself. He truly hadn't meant to hit his son that hard. "He needs to know that being hit with a weapon has painful consequences. I only wish someone had been there to teach me that in the beginning. It might have saved me a few scars."

"Fine. Just fucking fine. At least wrap those things in padding. The last thing Chance needs is a splinter as well as horrendous bruises." She was referring to the Bokken Aiden had carved from cedar wood. The practice swords had served well... up until now anyways.

"Alright! I'll pad the damn things. Forgive me for not seeing into the future, hun." Aiden answered her.

All was quiet for a moment. And then,

"And why aren't you trying to teach Fate any of this, oh benevolent father?"

Aiden felt a feeling that could only be described by the words 'oh, for fuck's sake...' More than once, Alaina had charged him with favoritism among their children, saying that he always taught Chance everything he could, meanwhile leaving her to instruct Fate. While he knew that he loved both his children equally, she didn't seem to believe him.

"Alaina, how could I? She is just like you. The other day, I tried to hug her and that damn blue cloud aura thing you gave her slapped the shit out of me." The blue aura was of the Salus, a racial ability found in her kind. Though Chance was twin to Fate, and son of Alaina, he had taken after Aiden. And so it was that Aiden and Chance were Fell Human, and Alaina and Fate were Salus. "Half the time, I don't even know if we live in the same world! How can I teach someone something I am not sure they are capable of learning? For instance, do Salus even see the color blue? Do your muscles get stronger from use, or only age? Does training improve your reflexes? I have absolutely no idea what I could even teach her!"

Aiden took a deep breath, and calmed himself. He knew that Alaina was just worried for their family, as he was. The simple worry of whether or not he could even help his daughter learn anything burned him in every way, every time he thought about it. He wasn't ignoring her. He was just fervently hoping that he could find a path both of them could walk.

"Look... I'm sorry about Chance's bruise. I swear, I didn't mean to hurt the boy. I'll pad the swords. As for Fate, alright. I'll try to teach her too. But if her little sparkly blue cloud hits me in the groin while we are practicing sword forms, or something similar, you are kissing it better." Aiden smirked as Alaina laughed and threw a pillow at his head.


***

Aiden woke slowly, reluctant to let go of his wife's presence, even if it was only a dream. He missed her and Fate so much. Wasting almost no time, the man threw back the covers of his bed and launched himself toward the table that held his belongings. Everything went into the leather backpack, well, everything that could fit.

"Wake up Chance. We're going to find your mother and sister." Aiden said over his shoulder.

Laying the backpack on the table, Aiden strode to the door and tore it open so hard he feared for the durability of the hinges. Marching down the hallway of the inn, he found the correct door, and pounded on it with all his strength. He didn't care how many men Lillian had in her bed, or what she was doing. If she wasn't ready in ten minutes, she'd be left behind.

[Ataraxis]

The silver knob turned on its own, a terse click sounding as the bolt disengaged. Ever so slowly did the door creak open, with only the glare of a transient flame escaping into the corridor, while the rest of the room was kept under the hold of an enigmatic gloom. Even as the gap yawned wider, the obscurity hardly dwindled, even snuffing out what little light had strayed from the narrow hallway. At most, when the panel of grainy oak had come to a sudden stop, strange outlines could be seen, their incongruous glints a curiosity to behold from the wooden threshold.

“One knock is often enough,” Lillian noted with nonchalance, her voice a breeze reminiscent of midnight murmurs. Somehow, she was equally immersed in the unnatural darkness, but her reply to Aiden’s impatient conduct seemed to have originated from the far-end corner where should have sat the frame of an eiderdown bed. “Consider yourself lucky. We’d be having a very different conversation, had I not been up for hours now,” she added in a cursory sigh, laced with bitterness as she recalled the foul mood she was still in, only minutes ago; indeed, the early mornings were moments when the girl was best left to rise alone.

The fibril flame of a candle guttered as it moved within the murky shroud, as though in the hands of some unseen poltergeist, hovering about with a mischievous intent. Holding the bobeche by its brass ring, Lillian had brought the burning wick to bear, letting the fiery wisp settle before her eyes, orbs of ice that seemed not to melt under the blaring heat. Her ink-wreathed visage basked in the tangerine halo, a white discrepancy in the realm of shadows that was her room. “I couldn’t sleep, so I decided I’d practice while I waited.”

Pursing her lips, she doused the flame with a blustery breath, plunging herself once more into the unseen. A moment passed uneventfully, until came a succession of faint twangs that echoed throughout the dark. The shutters were swept open by a force unknown, the shafts of dawn making their way into the chamber by way of the unobstructed window panes, shedding light onto the mystery it harbored. Lillian was indeed sitting on the checkered quilt of her bed, donning only a nightgown adorned with white lacework. Her comely face bore a wan smile and an unsounded gaze that was riveted onto the man at her doorstep, who was staring wild-eyed at the caliginous web that had infested the premises.

Each black strand was made with unwonted filaments that shone ghastly in the sunlight, all tangled into an eerie network of interwoven threads that spanned the entirety of the room, affixed not only to each and every nook and cranny, but also the wooden shutters and the silver doorknob. The whole weave was uneven, some sections made stronger than necessary, while others were too flimsy to withstand a specific tension, for they were now strewn limply across the patterned flooring. And all of this, the whole of this unnatural display, stemmed from the girl who sat listless upon her bed, the beads of fatigue pearling over her skin of porcelain.

Lillian set the extinguished candle back on the nightstand and, contending against her weariness, doddered to a stand, slipping from the quilt without a sound. With a sluggish pace, she came to meet Aiden at the door, flattening the crimps upon her delicate gown with her little hands. Then, laying one hand on the flat panel, the wince of the hinges grinding in her ears, she posed her singsong query. “What’s gotten you in such a huff?”

[Varia]

Alaina found herself looking over the dancing flames of a camp fire, into the most handsome green eyes she'd ever seen. The depth of them was amazing, and every time she looked, she found it hard to stop. The conversation they had been having was lost as their eyes locked on to one another's. Aiden was the first to break the silence. With a slight blush that wasn't completely lost to the darkness surrounding them, the corners of his mouth tilted upwards into a boyish smile, and he laughed quietly. His eyes fell to his hands that were clasped before him, his arms curving around his bent knees.

“I.. I completely forgot what we were talking about,” he said, rubbing his forehead with one hand, as if to shield his blushing face. Alaina giggled and kept staring. ”I'm sure that smile could spread a lot of legs,” she thought candidly.

Aiden's smile amazed her. The man normally presented a very mature and sarcastic demeanor, but when that smile popped up it showed more. It was as if he hid it because it betrayed the view of himself he tried to produce. It made him look vulnerable and playful. Alaina had the strange and sudden desire to kiss it.

“I forgot too,” she said softly. Aiden looked up at her momentarily and laughed, before returning his eyes to everywhere but her. ”He's acting like a school girl,” she thought. ”Then again, so am I.”

Aiden rubbed his chin anxiously. Looking determinately away from her, he cleared his throat to speak. “I've just got to admit, it's been awhile since I've had something so beautiful to look at,” he mumbled. Coughing, he shifted nervously. Alaina blushed, and smiled. On a sudden whim, and acting so far from her usual self, Alaina got up, and walked to Aiden. His eyes followed her over, and he smiled knowingly when she kicked the inside of his boot gently, nudging him away from the fire to face her. He stared up at her wolfishly, finally allowing his eyes to fully wander. Alaina giggled, embarrassed by her own actions, but carried on just the same. Kneeling in front of him, she kissed him softly. Feeling his hands slide around her hips and onto her rear end, she was urged on and kissed deeper. Pushing him backwards slowly, she hiked her skirt up with one hand and brought a knee up high between his legs, until the top of her thigh caressed his pants. He grunted quietly and squeezed her rump, making her giggle. Finally pulling away from the kiss, Aiden, breathing quite heavily, looked up at Alaina. “Are you sure-” Alaina shushed him and nodded, leaning back down to kiss him again before he could protest.

~

A small rustling brought Alaina back to the present. Opening her eyes, she found herself sitting next to the cell door, arm still stretched out, clasped onto the lock. Looking across the room, she saw Fate sit up and yawn. Alaina smiled and pulled her hand back through the door. Rubbing out the numbness that had set into her hand, she got up and walked over to her sleepy-eyed daughter.

“What's cookin', pumpkin pie?” she said softly. Fate smiled, as she always seemed to do. Alaina smiled back, the blurry eyes and sleep-matted hair of her little angel almost brought her to tears in such a depressing situation.

A quiet rumble erupted from Fate's tiny tummy, and Alaina sighed.

“Food?” Fate asked. Alaina shook her head, tears flooding her eyes. They hadn't eaten in two days.

“Not yet sweets,” she replied.

“Daddy?” the little girl asked. It nearly broke Alaina's heart to shake her head once more.

“Not yet. But you can bet daddy is on his way right now. He'll come in and save the day, then get your little tummy some food, and a nice comfy bed to sleep in,” Alaina said quietly. Fate smiled, and crawled into her mother's lap. Alaina ran her hand through the soft obsidian curls of her daughter's head. “Daddy will rescue us. It's what he does,” she said.

[DarkStorm]

Aiden froze, his eyes sliding slowly, tentatively, over the mess of black webbing that shrouded the room like shadows manifest. It left him at a loss for words, and he suddenly wished that he had brought his sword with him. If he had to cut the girl free from this mess, he'd certainly need it. Like a hammer to the temple, a sudden thought had his eyes searching the room erratically. Where was the fell beast that had done this?

"Lillian... what's going on here?" Aiden asked slowly, quietly. If something lurked in the shadows, he didn't want it to be startled into action. Looking quickly to his left side, Aiden's eyes landed on Chance, who was coming down the hallway. As always, the boy had slept only in his blue pajama bottoms. The boy's chest and tummy worried his father. So pale that it was nearly tinged blue, Aiden could count Chance's ribs, even when the boy stood normally. If he stretched, the skin would tighten, and it'd become even worse. Alaina had told him that it was normal for boys his age to eat only skimpily however, so he tried not to dwell on it.

Yawning, Chance looked up and into his father's eyes- and froze. More than a couple situations of danger had taught him to be cautious when the look of doubt was in his father's eyes. The boy moved back towards their room, and Aiden turned his eyes back to Lillian, waiting for an answer.

[Ataraxis]

Lillian contained a yawn with the tip of her fingers, looking at her friend curiously as she rubbed out the sand from her watery eyes. “What do you mean, what’s going on? I asked you first!” she replied tiredly, somewhat jaded by the circular momentum of their conversation, one she was in a hurry to break. “As I said, I was just training to kill time, since I was roused from my sleep prematurely.” The end of her sentence was tentative, as though she hesitated to make known the cause of her early rise. I’m not telling him about my nightmare. I’ve had more than enough of being treated like a child.

It was quite clear that her abridged explanation had not sufficed. Aiden stood there, still dumbfounded and on the edge, imagining some overly complicated reason for the spectacle he beheld. Each of his perked stares, from the web-infested room to the thinly-robed teenager had made her eyes roll. “If there was a giant spider in here, you would’ve already found it, Aiden.” Still surprisingly blasé, she tilted her head to the side, letting her benighted mane flow out, and raised her eyebrows. “This is my doing. Hells, regard me as the giant spider, if that’s all you need to move on”.

Lightly rasping at the thick strand that had latched onto the doorknob with her spindly fingers, she sent the faintest of waves through the darkened web, until she curtly plucked the string between thumb and index. In a mist of black, the web had vanished, leaving only strange blots of shadows to die in the light of dawn. “Convinced, now?”

[Chance]

"Father, what's going on?" Chance asked worriedly.

"Nothing. Everything is fine." Aiden replied after a moment, looking back to his son. "Pack up your stuff! We are going to find your mother and sister."

"Oh. 'kay." Chance turned and walked back to the room he had shared with his father for several weeks now. It was small, and sparsely furnished. A table sat in between the two small cots, but against the far wall. A couple of rickety chairs sat beside it, their legs of an uneven length. The window had a crack running up the pane of glass, and the makeshift caulking that ran around the window sill was old and weathered, yellowish and cracking. Water stains ran down the wall beneath the window.

On the table, Aiden had already started packing their scant few belongings, cramming them haphazardly into his backpack. Now, Chance resumed the task, albeit, more carefully than his father had. Behind him, he heard his father enter the room. Chance turned, and handed the filled and closed backpack to his father, who took it and laid it on the bed. While Aiden moved to the corner of the room, where his weapons waited, Chance went to his own bed. Sitting down, he began to pull his small white socks on over his bare feet. Once done, he put his feet in his shoes, and began to tie them. It was much warmer in his shoes. The wooden floor had been chilly.

Aiden, meanwhile, was strapping his steel sword on to his back. The process was only slightly complicated by his long, drab yellow trenchcoat. Over his sword went the Damascus Torch Spear that he had not yet named, and had bought from the Bazaar of Dheathain. As tall as he was, it was sharped at one end in the image of a spear, but had a hollow top with claws attached, so he could fasten a torch to the end of it. When they had gathered all they had, Aiden led the way out into the courtyard behind the inn.

As early as it was, there was little traffic on the streets to either side. The sky was a beautiful morning blue, streaks of golden clouds strung across the horizon like streamers and ribbons. The sun was still blocked by the buildings of Donnalaich. Looking at Lillian, Chance's father seemed to scowl a bit, but whatever had disturbed him was soon forgotten as Aiden made his way to the stable.

Why's he going in there? We don't have any horsies. Chance thought quizzically.

But strange enough, Aiden exited the stable with three in tow, each saddled and appearing ready for a long journey. The first to catch Chance's eye was shorter than the rest, and was a deep brown color. It was this one that Aiden lifted him up, and sat him down on.

Aiden himself climbed up on to one that was as black as night, and taller than the other two. Gesturing toward Lillian, Aiden spoke quietly and urgently. "I know you don't approve, but please, just shut up and get on. We've a long way to go, and no other way to get their quickly. They might be in danger."

Chance wasn't listening. He was busy leaning around on the saddle poking and playing with the his horse's ears. The horse shook it's head, snuffled, and danced sideways slowly, and Chance giggled.

[Ataraxis]

To say she was bemused would be an understatement. First, the man battered her door so hard that he left upon the wood the imprint of his knuckles – she was surprised that he hadn’t torn the damn thing off its hinges on the first try. Then, he stood there in the perfect likeliness of a carp out of water, eyes wide and mouth agape, minding her with an almost rude disbelief. Finally, no matter how many times she asked for a rational explanation to his urgency and his downright rude behavior, he somehow managed to sidestep her questions, never giving it straight to her. Aiden was, however, clear enough to his son, who had apparently bumbled about the adjacent corridor.

Upon hearing those words, her morning haze had dissipated as if by magic, replaced by a sudden need to hurry. Dallying no longer, she went for the dresser, plucking her backpack from the foot of the bed. “What made you decide to go find them, all of the sudden?” she asked as she fiddled with a brass handle. With a single swipe, she picked and unfolded a white dress from the open drawer, raising it over her head and leaving it to slide down her lithe figure.

Her arms were still trapped inside her summer dress, and with them she doffed her nightgown without much effort. As her arms found exit in the robe’s sleeves, she pulled out her skimpy gown in a swift jerking motion. In record time, she had changed into her traveling vestments, and was now packing in her bag what trinkets and gewgaws she had left lying around in a rosewood cupboard. “And how are we going to find them anyway?” she asked in a raised voice, figuring the man was already on the way back to his own room.

Pulling the closet open, she took out her auburn ankle boots and slipped them onto her chalk-white feet. Finally, after affixing the hilt of her Cillu dirk to the rope belt she had cinched around her waist, Lillian flung her knapsack onto her back and scuttled out of the chamber, in tow of Aiden and his son as they made for the courtyard. “Hey, that’s enough ignoring me for one day!” she cried out, finding it quite difficult to fall in his hastened strides, but nonetheless arriving at the stables in time.

The boulevard of the capital was disturbingly vacant, not one tip of an iridescent wing hovering about. The air was thicker and damper than the usual, and she felt dews from the morning mists cling onto her skin. With a disquieted stare to the sky, she noticed its periwinkle clarity, with only a sparse number of white puffs drifting under the mandarin rays of the still rising sun, unfurling across the horizon like festive festoons, a dire counterpoint to the girl’s upset mien. “Aiden, those aren’t ours! You can’t–”

The man motioned her to shut her pipe, but instead of getting riled up at his ongoing rudeness, she seemed more docile, swayed by the unsettling calmness in his voice. He was dead set on finding his loved ones, and no longer cared what wrongs he may cause on the way to their deliverance. Just a means to an end, she thought sourly in regards to the theft. However, her natural qualms notwithstanding, she was ultimately understanding.

“Alright,” she said calmly, nodding at the man. “Do you have an inkling of where to go?”

[DarkStorm]

Aiden shook his head. "I have no idea where they are. That is why we are leaving right now. We may have a lot of ground to cover."

Aiden pulled on the reins of his horse, and used his knees to apply enough pressure to start the animal into motion. They needed to get far enough away to make a clean departure. The last thing he wanted was to have to explain to authorities why he so liberally helped himself to someone else's property. Grabbing the reins of Chance's horse, Aiden led. He was silent, his mind lost in thought.

A horse thief... what kind of animal have I become? What's next, murder? Aiden thought bitterly. And then, if it will help me find my wife and daughter, yes.

"I should have set out sooner." Aiden answered to no one in particular.

The sun burned overhead as they made their way through the capitol that was soon to be left behind.


***

[Chance]

Chance whimpered slightly as he slid down off the saddle, his small hands immediately seeking out his rear end and crotch. Night had fallen quite some time ago, but his father had insisted on continuing, despite the danger of riding in the dark. They had spent an entire day in the saddle, with only a few breaks in between. It felt as if someone had beaten him with a wooden board. Multiple times.

Unceremoniously, the boy fell to the ground, and lay on his back. With his legs as far apart as humanly possible, he simply stared at the ceiling of tree boughs that blocked out the stars and night sky. Though his eyes watered with the pain, the boy was determined not to cry from it. He wasn't a baby anymore.

"You okay, Chance?" His father asked from a short distance away, where he was tying the reins of the horses around a sturdy branch of an oak tree.

Chance lifted his head enough to look at his father and all but spat a pained, sour grunt at the man.

"Good... I should have a fire going soon. Then we can eat!" Aiden replied.

At the mention of food, Chance's mood lifted slightly, but only until another pang shot through his lower regions. Tomorrow, he would have to put some of the spare clothes from his backpack between himself and the saddle, or even the blanket in his saddlebags.

"Lillian? Do you want to watch Chance while I go try to hunt down some food, or do you want to do the hunting."

Silence.

Chance suspected that Lillian was giving his father a nasty look or two, but the boy didn't find the subject interesting enough to move, in order to confirm his guess. A few seconds later, Aiden spoke again.

"Okay... try to build a fire while I'm gone. Or at least, don't get eaten." Aiden's voice contained unspoken laughter. "And if you have to get eaten, don't let my son get eaten."

[Ataraxis]

Lillian was sulking on the edge of the benighted glade, leaning on the side as she prodded the sore point of her hind. The ride from the Fae capitol had been a long and arduous one, especially without any stopover for a well-earned reprieve. In order to follow Aiden’s lead, she had to spur her white mount multiple times, reluctance marring her heart each time her soles dug into its rippling sides, certain that it would one day come to repay her in full, leaving her a beaten body imprinted with horseshoe marks. Dust had blinded her, drying her hair until they felt like twigs covered in gritty sand, her dress had lost its supple sheen and was now a mess of off-white wrinkles. Finally, as her midnight coup de grace, the giant of a man had delegated her as the builder of fires and the guardian of his little demon.

“I might as well get the first thing done.” Hopping onto her legs, the girl drew a hasty breath, releasing it in a low wind along with her bitterness. Even though he had coerced her into these tasks, she was relieved that no tusked boar or feline killer would slam her square in the sternum; as long as she somehow finagled a fire, that is. “Chance, stay here and in sight; I’ll go look for tinder and kindling. I won’t be too far.”

Only once in a blue moon, will that adorable runt obey me. This was exactly why she had only crossed the jade underbrush, plucking out handfuls of leaves and tall grass while on the prowl for lone twigs and dry branches. Every once in a while, she would stare out the corner of her eye, and would sigh in relief as she saw the child struggling to move, rubbing his tender parts after each capitulation. I guess that’s one reason to be thankful for him being a boy.

With a dry and leafy arsenal in hand, she returned to the heart of the clearing, and dropped it all into a dishevelled mound. Following it, she fell in a flutter of white frills and black strands, her lank legs astride the pile. With her knife, she carved out slivers of wood from the larger branches, simultaneously cutting out whatever dampness remained on the bark skin. When that was done, Lillian arranged the pieces into a small tepee and sifted whatever powdered tinder remained beneath the sturdy wooden structure. “Hey Chance, you wouldn’t happen to know how to summon fire out of thin air, would you?”

The shake and shock of his sandy hair had told her no. With the smallest of frowns, she regarded her unfinished work, wondering how to light it without any flint to strike. She could choose to go deeper into the forest in search of the stones, but this meant leaving the child wholly unsupervised, something neither she nor Aiden would allow. Finding no alternative, she sealed her eyes, drank in the briskness of night and raised her hands over the rickety pyramid. In her mind, she sunk deeper and deeper into a mauve pool, until something solid found its way into her hands. Bursting open, her eyes saw in the nick of time a burst of smoke, but no fire. Grumbling, she repeated the process; but this time, a mist of diamond dust had swirled into existence, sublimating into the air as quickly as it came. Jaded by her failed attempts, she focused her mind.

A miniature bolt of lightning struck, but as it lit a strong and steady fire, so did it shock the girl, and it felt as though the wind had been knocked out of body. Stifling an oath of pain, she rose to her feet, patting down her electrified mane with grunts and groans. “Alright, enjoy your cursed fire! I’m going to get my due bath!” With angry strides, she disappeared into the thickets, in search for a pond or a lake, or even a shallow river in which she could cleanse the grime of a harsh day.

Not far off, she smelled an even damper air, following it until she stumbled across a homely little pond. Exhaling in victory, she began to doff herself of dress and boots, shivering as a nightly breeze surprised her naked body. After carefully fitting her clothes onto a branch that hung low over the bushes, she hunched forward, her cheeks flushing into a lively shade of carnelian; the girl hid as much of her feminine assets as she could, while giving sidelong glances in case somebody had decided to become a peeping tom. A curt look to the back revealed the light of the campfire, and she knew that from this distance, she could keep a watchful eye on the demon without worries. Glad that everything was working out just finely, Lillian finally slipped into the crystal waters, shivering with delight as the cold greeted her skittish skin.

[DarkStorm]

A singular breeze swept through the emerald canopy around Aiden, rustling the leaves lightly. The man inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with the cold air. Some scent buried deep in that breeze stirred a memory long settled, like dust churned up beneath a horse's hoof. At first he fought the memory, tried to keep it from overwhelming him and dulling his perceptions of the world around him. He knew the memory well; his mind frequently revisited it every time he felt depressed. It was one of the many times he had failed to be the Husband he should have been, a perfect example of why he sometimes hated himself. Now, it was too strong to ignore. Driven by his fear for Alaina's safety, the memory returned in full force. The world around him seemed to dim, and he found himself, once again, in the home they had shared for so long.

[hr]

"I don't want to hear it Aiden!" Alaina shouted roughly, cutting short his excuses. "You knew that man was kidding."

"Oh bullshit, Alaina." Aiden growled back. "Had he been any more serious, he'd have been trying to take your clothes off right there."

"And so instead of letting me handle it, as you should have, you broke his fucking nose." His wife replied, the anger in her voice matched by the fire in her eyes.

"He deserved it! Or would you rather me not care if some man is trying to seduce my wife?" Aiden retorted.

"What I want is for you to act like the adult you supposedly are, and not punch people in the face in front of our children!" She replied.

"So what you want is for me to ignore it when men do-" Aiden was cut off by his wife's disgusted sigh.

Tossing her hands up in the air, Alaina all but spat at Aiden, "Jesus Christ, Aiden. You'll never learn. Is it your entire race that is little more than an animal, or is it just you?"

As if to pound her point home, the shimmering blue aura of the Salus flickered around her before disappearing. She might as well have driven a nail into his heart. It was the perfect demonstration of their differences, as if she had just put on display the single hurdle that they'd never be able to cross.

In that instance of time, Aiden's emotions seemed to drain. All the fiery anger that had caused this was lost. All that remained was the harsh insecurity that had driven his anger, and the depression caused by that glittering azure cloud that surrounded Alaina for a blink of an eye.

"'Clothed in the attire of a Man, an animal is still an animal.'" Aiden quoted. He turned, and walked away, closing the door of their small house behind him. The latch caught, not with the loud booming of a slammed door, but a quiet snicket.

[hr]

Perched in the tree as he was, Aiden was brought out of his memories by the quiet approach of a deer below. Carefully, slowly, the Fell Human pulled a knife from his left sleeve, and waited. The minutes passed by as the creature tread closer, until at last it had come into range. With the calm surety of a man who had wielded such weapons for the better part of his life, he threw the knife downward, toward the animal. Spinning end over end, the blade slid effortlessly into the deer's neck. There was no thrashing, no running. The creature simply fell over.

[Chance]

As the pain slowly faded away, Chance felt an almost overwhelming desire to get up and... he didn't know. Just... move. After spending the entire day in that blasted saddle, the boy had built up an overabundance of two things: pain, and energy. Had his father and Lillian not told him to stay where he was, he certainly would have gotten up and run about, or climbed as high into one of the trees as he could.

Instead, he merely lifted his head to look after Lillian. He watched silently as she disappeared into the brush, the foliage swaying as she passed through it. Soon, she disappeared from sight. Bored, Chance sat up slowly. It seemed that though the pain had mostly faded away, his crotch and rear end still throbbed remorselessly.

"Ow." The boy whispered hoarsely as he sat up straight. Pulling his right foot onto his left thigh, he untied his boot and kicked it off. A small cloud of dirt and dust rose where it fell. The wind gusted slightly, and lifted a whiff of his foot to his nose. Instantly, his hand covered his nose and mouth. "Auch! Ew. Icky."

Breathing only through his mouth, the boy removed his other shoe as well as his socks and stood slowly. Shaking his head, the boy set out after Lillian, his boredom finally overcoming his caution. As quietly as he could, he slipped between the trees and bushes, ignoring the brush that caught at his pants. Still wet from being in his boots all day, his feet caught dirt and dust, and quickly became as dirty as the ground on which he walked. Flinching as his foot fell on a twig, Chance muttered sourly.

As he approached, the sounds of disturbed water met his ear, and he smiled faintly. Maybe he could wash his stinky feet, and get rid of that horrible smell before his father teased him for it. Not having paid attention to where he was going, the boy suddenly found his vision obscured by some hanging object which had now wrapped around his head. In confusion and fear, Chance jumped backward, swatting at whatever it was. When it fell away from his face, and to the ground, he stared at it. Slowly, a devious smile crept over his face.

Picking up what was obviously Lillian's dress, Chance made his way further into the woods, until at last he broke into the clearing that contained the small lake in which the girl now bathed. Smiling, the boy held the dress up like a war trophy.

"Lilliiiiiiiiiiiian." His grin widened. "Look what I gots."

[Ataraxis]

It wasn’t as snug as a steamy hot spring, but the pond was welcoming in its own right, the chill whisks of its waters refreshing all that was sore, vivifying her body as well her mind. Cupping her hands, she lifted a fragment of the moon from the silver surface, watching it ripple in her palms as the water seeped out in a trickle of crystal drops. Before the fluid had escaped through the gaps of her fingers, Lillian clapped her hands with an expression of curiosity, surprised to feel a spritz of liquid moonlight spray and cool her giggling face, washing away the cakes of dust and grime from a long, long day. Her sigh of comfort had spread beyond the embowering trees, which shone so beautifully with the white shades of a mirrored moon, fading as she vanished into the depths of the pond with a swallowing splash.

Though things seemed darker, she reveled in the beauty of what lay hidden from the dwellers of the earth, who always look at and beyond the skies, while ignoring the mysteries that slumber beneath. Lillian felt as if in a dream, drifting along what she could only describe as an underwater phantasmagoria, always shifting and bubbling, drawing her further in as the light above seemed to shy away, swallowed by the haunting gloom of secret depths. Fear may have crossed her timorous nature, but she was driven on by the power of her adventurous heart. Alas, the dive had not lasted long, for she could already feel the slick end of the bottom, a viscous matter squirming between her toes.

Reality hit her hard, or at least clicked in her head like the waking snap of fingers, leaving her slightly disappointed that she had not discovered a submerged treasure or the remains of sunken city, long lost to the ebbs of time. Though her imagination had not been satisfied, she had found compensation by indulging in sillier activities by wiggling around her feet. The algae tickled her soles, and though on solid ground she would have thought the feeling as foul and unpleasant as walking on a wriggle of worms, the swish of water had changed it into a most interesting sensation, one she associated to a bed of jelly. Oh, but this isn’t the time to enjoy squishy goodness. I mustn’t leave Chance alone for too long. With the last of her breath, she kicked the spongy ground, heading for the wan light of the surface. Oddly, the skin of her foot felt something yield under the force, similar to a hardened stick of some sort.

Something had caught her ankle, pulling her down as she swam. In shock, her lips gaped open, releasing a bubble of air that frightened her as it drifted up and away. In fear that a slimy creature had made her its next prey, her heartbeat had become chaotic discord, so much that she felt her sternum ripping right out of her chest. Time slipped away, and she could feel each and every second leave her to helpless disarray. In a last act of desperation, she brought her knees to her chest, which had caused her body to sink even further down, but close enough for her hands to reach whatever impediment had taken a hold of her, live or not. They caught on a thick stem, covered in a smooth gelatin and coarser gunk, and with the whole of her might, she tore it off from the bed of muck, freeing herself from its deadly grasp.

A patch of soggy black emerged from the waters, sending powerful billows outward as Lillian’s body followed in tow. In the air of night reverberated the longest of gasps, the nearly-drowned girl drinking in as much air as she could, letting the substance of her salvation burn into her lungs. Lillian threw out her arms, streamers of water floating in their wake as she desperately caught on the stones of the bank, terrified at the thought of returning to such horrible depths and meeting the monster of the pond, face to face. Unfortunately for her, escaping one monster had only lead her into the hands of a smaller, more annoying one. Chance stood over her, holding her favorite and, more importantly, only dress like some kind of hard-earned prize. This is the worst antithesis to ‘out of the frying pan, into the fire’.

“Give me back my things you little runt!” she cried aloud, or at least, as loud as she could in a vicious, whispering snarl. They were far enough from the fire to have lost its protective presence, and any loud noise in the dark would most likely attract all the stalkers in the woods and the predators of the night. She struggled to pull herself out, but remembered one little detail, notably her complete nudity. In a suppressed yelp, she dropped back into the water before exposing her breasts, her face bursting into red anger and indignation as the devil skipped out of reach. “Oh you had better run, you little pervert! But when I catch you, and you know I will, you had better be ready for... for your father to spank your little rump!”

[Chance]

Chance giggled quietly at Lillian's remark.

"Dad doesn't spank me or Fate. Neither does Mommy. They say that hitting is for people who can't raise their children properly." Grinning, Chance stood up on his toes and leaned in, trying to see into the water that concealed the girl's body. Though the water was far too dark to catch more than a glimpse of her silhouette, the boy was entertained by how her face suddenly seemed to glow redder than a fire.

"Your dress is pretty though." The boy remarked, as he held it up awkwardly, trying to appear mature. As he did so, a smaller garment fell out of the inside of the dress. Frowning, Chance bent down and picked it up, examining it under the faint silvery moonlight that slipped through the emerald canopy. In that faint light, it appeared to be a pair of shorts, except considerably smaller, and far more flimsy.

Scrunching his nose up curiously, Chance looked to Lillian. "What are these, Lily?"

[Ataraxis]

“D-Don’t touch that!” The sheepish girl was almost fooled into bounding out of the waters to recover her feminine undergarment. As she receded back into the murky cold, all she had managed was a splash of water and a squeal of frustration, gaveling her hands at the stony bank in a desperate act. Lillian utterly failed to intimidate the boy, for the lack of having any threatening bone in her frail little body. “Those are my pa… pan… my pant…”

“Pants? But you don’t wear pants, Lily!” Chance state in that boyish, matter-of-factly voice, whisking her underwear from side to side, its lacy fabric reflected in the rays that sidled through the dark green patches above, not hiding the slyness in his impish little grin. “Pants would hide your legs! Since you like showing them so much, pants are no good!” As if he had just uncovered a universal truth, he let his chest swell with pride. “But these are so small; you wouldn’t even be able to cover your hips!”

Lillian’s eyes flashed with blue anger; first, because the boy might have just implied she had chubby hips – an indignant falsity, she thought – and second, because he kept taunting her so that she would reveal herself in all her soft and slender glory. That he would grow into a lecher had been her most solemn prediction, and so she wasn’t surprised he wanted to take a good gander at a woman’s naked body, as curious as it was to all little boys; but she had never augured he would turn into an underwear thief, and so early on as well!

Her left hand fiddled with a glossy rock that lay among many others on the edge of the pond, polishing its black sheen as it turned in her palm. With a sudden jerk of her arms, she sent the large nugget careening forth, almost hugging the ground before it shattered inches away at his bare feet. Seeing that her aim was accurate and that the boy was in no way wounded, she picked up a handful of dirt, specked with coarse little pebbles. “Fore!” she almost yelled out, flinging the patch of earth and stone at the little boy. Run, little rapscallion! Run so that I can get out and run after you too!

[Fate]

Fate wasn't having near as much fun as her brother. She now sat in the corner of the empty cell, hugging her knees to her chest, staring out across the room and through the bars on the door. The scary man who'd brought them here had taken her mother away, and all she could hear were muffled screams. Big, hot tears ran down her plump cheeks, and she made no move to wipe them away. She was too scared. Frozen stiff, worrying that her mother wouldn't come back.

She had too. Mommys didn't leave their babies, that's what she'd always been told.

Fate's already bright eyes glimmered brighter through the gloss of her tears. Her once almost regal dress had been stained by the dirt and grime of this place. The white gossamer fabric was torn and weighed down by filth. Her normally bright and shining curls were limp and dirty. Her outer appearance, deflated as it was, made the perfect characterization of her mood. She felt gross and wanted to be at home in her warm clean bed. They still hadn't eaten, and Fate was starting to worry that they never would again. The gnawing in her stomach was painful. Never, had she been this scared.

A scream interrupted her thoughts and Fate gave a great heaving sob, and buried her head in her knees. Clamping her arms around her head to cover her ears, she rocked back and forth slightly, sobbing quietly. She'd give anything not to hear her mother scream again. A few moments later, she heard the loud slam of the door at the end of the hall. A squeak jumped from her throat and she scurried further back into the corner, eying the barred door in terror. A few hard footsteps, the sound of something being drug across the floor, and the door creaked open, and a pale hand threw her mother into the cell. Alaina crumpled to the floor like a rag doll, and Fate jumped to her feet, wanting to run to her mother, but fearful of the man that had thrown her in.

“Another round, and maybe you'll tell me where your husband is!” shouted the man. Fate heard her mother grunt, as the cell door slammed behind her. She was still on the floor, trying with some effort to pull her arms and legs beneath her, to get up. Fate ran over, and kneeled next to her suffering mother.

“Mommy!” she whispered. “What did he do to you?” Fate reached down and gently touched the dark spots that now stained her mothers gown. Her mother looked up at her, all her black curls damp from sweat and tears, and presumably blood. Her face was wet with tears and a small trickle of blood ran down from the corner of her mouth. A grimy but still delicate hand wiped it quickly away, but Fate still saw it. She gasped lightly and Alaina shook her head.

“No, no baby,” Alain said softly. Fate reached forward and wrapped her arms tightly around her mothers neck. A wince was hidden from the girl, but still her mother's arms slipped around her waist, and they hugged each other. “Baby,” her mother's comforting voice in her ear reassured her. “It will be alright. I'm sure daddy is on his way.” In that minute, but wholly comforting gesture, Fate's mother's hand found the little girls hair and stroked it gently. Fate sobbed into the shoulder of her mother's stained dress.

[Chance]

Miles away, Chance Wintersent went still, his hands dropping to his side where they remained motionless. The boy stood completely still and his eyes came unfocused, staring into a world only he could see. The smile didn't fade from his lips- it simply disappeared. Only faintly visible in the low light, the boy's lower lip quivered, and a glint of light reflected from the sudden moisture in his eyes. The patch of muck Lillian had thrown only moments ago hit him dead center, leaving a splotch of mud across the belly of his shirt. He didn't so much as flinch. It was as if he had been disconnected from reality.

Within, he was a tumultuous sea of emotions. From the day he had become self-aware, he had always felt his sister inside of him. Many said that twins shared a special bond. When one got hurt, the other cried, when one was lost, the other knew where they were. It was as natural to Chance as breathing, or blinking. Now, however, the boy felt nothing but pain and fear. It flooded him, and the only reason he could identify it as Fate's, and not his own, was from his years of experience with the twin bond. The fear had become his own. If Fate was being hurt...

Lillian's dress and undergarment dropped from his numb fingers, settling into a heap on the dirt at his feet. Though the boy was optimistic at heart, his logic told him what he didn't want to hear. The bond told him that Fate was not in pain, but the emotions that raged through that link indicated it. It wasn't Fate being hurt. It was his mom.

"Someone's hurting Mommy." Chance whimpered to no one in particular, his eyes still unfocused. A tear rolled down from his left cheek, cutting through the dirt and grime on his face like a razor.

[Ataraxis]

Chance had only left a few hurried prints upon the muck when he stopped dead in his tracks, his whole body rendered as stiff as a board through some mysterious means. Because of this unforeseen halt, her calculations had become sorely off, the round cluster of mud and gravel she had patted in her palms hit the boy square in the torso, smearing grime over his clothing. “Chance? What’s wrong?” The child remained in a mute stupor, arms flaccid at his sides, gaze lost to some object beyond what could be seen. Lillian angled her eyesight as well, wondering if the boy had seen the foreboding shadow of a nocturnal animal, or was simply mesmerized by the sidereal vista that unfurled above him like a velvet cloth, container of a thousand diamonds on different shapes and sizes.

The few words that lopped out of his mouth had made it clear that the object of his enthrallment was of a much more interior nature. Lillian had enough of dallying around, waiting for Chance to leave so that she may don her humble vestments once more, so that she may go on under a guise of modesty and comfort. A resonant call had made Chance its medium, beckoning her, begging her to move on, to stop caring for the otiose and superficial. How could she, how dared she enjoy a midnight cleansing when this boy’s mother and sister had gone missing so long ago, leaving no trace in their wake? And now, someone is hurting them? For all she knew, time was now truly of the essence, hence why she had none to waste in vain prudishness. She sank deeper into the pond, shutting her eyes to avert any misdirection of her focus.

Before a minute had gone by in silence, Lillian gave the sturdy rock bank a slap of both hands, pulling herself out of the watery fetters. The sodden tangles of her raven hair reflected silver curls under the lunar glare, her blanched skin a mystical fascination as it swayed out of the ripples, seeming a siren that had wandered far astray from the southern seas. She slung out a knee for support, pulling the rest of her body out of the crystal pool, she drew herself to a stand, her back straight and chin up. Lillian was only feet away from the boy, her features shadowed with the moon shining in her back.

Lillian withdrew her left foot, placing its toes behind her right heel, turning sideways to let bask in the moonlight, boasting no carmine flourish upon her cheeks, only a clumsy weave of opaque threads, wrapped around her chest and waist, all a lacework of slanted lines and redundant crisscrosses, magical frays of darkness sticking out of the two-piece suit, hiding almost none of her precocious curves, nor the body of her assets. Her left hand was lifted near her chin, fingers sprawled as if holding a cup, tiny tendrils squirming out from the tips of her fingers. “We’ll find them, Chance. We’ll find them, and make their captors pay a hundredfold, okay?” Her lax hand turned into a fist, the caliginous threads twisting about her knuckles into a hazy glove.

“But before that, we need to find your father. I’m certain he’ll want to hear what you just told me. Maybe then, he’ll have a better idea of what happened to them and, specifically, just who is behind their abduction.” Making long scissoring strides, she weaved through the underbrush, picking her dropped dress on the way, as well as a few leaves and twigs in her makeshift clothing. They were a few dozen feet away from the fire, still burning hot and bright, the embers crackling with the whiting woods. A snap sounded close, followed by the thud of a heavy boot.

Aiden had returned from his hunt.

[DarkStorm]

Aiden's shoulders were burdened with more than simply the dead game as he made his way back through the shadowed forest, toward the camp. Memories of his past continued to rise in his mind, like bubbles of air floating to the surface of a turbulent pond. Though short lived, they were always quickly replaced by yet other memories. Through it all, the one thing he could always see was the face of his beautiful wife, and his precious daughter. His heart swelled at the thought of them, a tangled web of emotions not even he could fully sort out. There was pride; pride in the eagerness his daughter held to learn, and the graceful intelligence of his wife. Love, also. How could he not love them with every fiber of his being? He had once believed that he would never love again. He had believed that his soul and mind had been twisted too far to ever feel that emotion again. He'd been wrong. There was regret as well. Oh, so much regret. So many things he could have done better; there were so many times that he should have just stopped arguing, accepted defeat, smiled, and kissed his wife. What was the point in being right, if it left Alaina in the wrong? How cherished could such a victory be, if it meant his wife was saddened? Better that he always be wrong, and she always right. How unwilling he had been to lay prone his pride then, and now, how desperate he was to again have the chance to. Whatever God will hear me, please let them be okay. His heart pulsed in fear, and for a second he feared he'd be sick.

How could I have let this happen?

In that short second, he was filled to overflowing with rage that burned brighter than his fear. How could he have let this happen? How? Shifting his shoulders, he let the animal carcass fall from them, and spun. His hand balled into a fist, and collided with the first solid object it encountered. The tree was young and shook under the pressure of the impact, yet it stood fast. The surge of pain that waded up Aiden's arm, through his fist, was a powerful, meaningful punctuation to his rage and despair. He let himself fall to his knees, twisting as he did so. His back slammed against the husk of the tree, his yellow trenchcoat crumpled up with the movement, and somehow cushioned his lower back as he sat slouched. His knees were pulled up toward his chest now, and his arms laid across them, his hands gripping the opposite elbow. Against the smooth surface of his elbows, the skin of his hands felt rough and calloused. In that moment, he felt that it was somehow symbolic of his life, and of all that he was, and ever would be: harsh and stoic.

His right hand dripped steadily, slowly. He had held nothing back when he had let fly against the tree, and now his knuckles were shredded. Scarlet blood ran down his hand in twining rivulets, falling to the leaf covered dirt. Tattered ribbons of flesh hung haphazardly from his fingers, and in his idle disconnection, he began pulling them off, despite the jabs of pain it caused.

A memory came to mind, unbidden, unwanted.

[hr]A small hand laid on his shoulder through the blanket, and shook him. He could hear his daughter's voice, even through the haze of dreams that had enshrouded him as he laid with his wife in the darkness. Though he was tired and ached from the long day of work behind him, he forced his way through that forest of obscuring spiderwebs, parting each without hesitation, like curtains between himself and consciousness. Rolling over in bed, he opened his eyes.

Aiden smiled as he found himself looking into Fate's pale eyes. They reminded him of winter frost, so perfectly icy blue. They were perhaps the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen, just like her mother's. Pulling his arm out from beneath the blanket, where it had been resting on his stomach, Aiden stifled a yawn with the back of his hand. Smiling, he reached out and shook the arm of the small teddy bear his daughter held.

"What's wrong, sweety?" He asked.

"I had a bad dream." She responded.

Scooting backward, Aiden put as much room between his stomach and the edge of the bed as he could. Against his back, Alaina stirred a bit, then fell still again. Aiden lifted the blankets, and his daughter climbed onto the bed, and laid on her side. Pushing her back up against his stomach, she cuddled her teddy bear, and shook her dark hair out from beneath her head as she rested it on the pillow. Aiden wrapped his arm around her, and tucked the blanket in under her.

"What about, Princess?" He asked, only mildly curious. He knew how strange and illogical nightmares could be.

"A bad man stole me." Fate replied, her voice quivering.

"Don't worry sweety. Daddy will never let something like that happen." Aiden replied.[hr]What if I have done exactly that? Aiden raged at himself. Why else would they...

The minutes passed by in silence, as Aiden gathered himself, and fought back the tide of despair that threatened to unhinge him. When at last he felt okay, he rose to his feet, and gathered up the dead deer. With the animal once again on his shoulders, he started back to the camp.

When he arrived, he found it empty, though he heard Lillian's voice nearby. Dropping the deer unceremoniously from his shoulders, he left it beside the fire and followed his ears to the young girl. When he arrived, he found an odd scene. Lillian was mostly naked, save for strips of the same obsidian webbing that had covered her room that morning. Her dress and undergarment laid at her knees as she knelt in front of Chance. The look in her eyes told Aiden that something was wrong.

once more, his fear took control, and he was kneeling beside the boy, unable to remember anything in between then and now. Taking hold of the boy's shoulders, he turned him carefully, and directed his question to both Chance and Lillian.

"What's happened? What's wrong?" Waiting for an answer, he leaned to the side and flailed his hand in the water, washing away the blood.

[Varia]

Alaina stared blankly at the damp brick wall adjacent to her and Fate. It was all she could do to keep from crying. Even then, her eyes burned with tears that wanted to escape. Her bottom lip quivered slightly, and she pulled it into her mouth and bit hard. The metallic taste that filled her mouth informed her that hard was too hard. Oddly enough, she didn't mind. She was mad at herself. No, not mad. Mad didn't even begin to describe it. Alaina was furious with herself for screwing up so badly. She kept thinking back to the forest and replaying it all in her head. So many things she could have done differently. So many things she neglected to notice. What was wrong with her? She banged her head sharply on the stone wall behind her, sending harsh pains through her whole skull. Fate, sleeping with her head on her mother's lap, stirred. Alaina cursed herself again. So much she'd done wrong. Such a horrible wife. Such a horrible mother.

The tears finally fell. Hot liquid flooded down her pale cheeks. Her face scrunched up, eyes squinting shut. A silent sob wracked through her small frame, and the dam broke. Worry about waking Fate up couldn't stop her. Her body shook, and her breaths came in shorter and shorter. She brought her hands up and covered her red face, not wanting Fate to see it when the girl finally woke up. She felt like a child herself. She'd lost control and she couldn't regain her composure. The sobbing brought fire back into every wound on her body. Every wound that Ishadin had given her while trying to extract the location of her husband. Alaina welcomed the pain. In that lost and depressed moment, she felt she deserved every one of them. She deserved them for letting her baby and her husband down.

Somewhere far away, she heard Fate talking to her. The weight of the girl lifted from her lap, and Alaina pulled her knees up to her chest. She wanted to disappear. She wanted to sink right into the wall she was sitting up against. She wouldn't leave her baby, but she couldn't fight the overwhelming feeling that someone else could do better at protecting Fate. A small hand touched her shoulder, and Alaina could have hit herself. Her daughter had already been through so much the past few days, and here she was removing the girls only rock in a river full of hurt. Alaina felt a scream of frustration building up, but swallowed it down hard. She'd already done enough. She couldn't ruin this more. Removing her hands from her face, Alaina took a deep breath and looked at the worried face swimming in front of her, blurred by the tears in her eyes. “I'm sorry, sweetie,” she said thickly. Her voice hardly sounded like her own. The crying had distorted it, giving it a wet sound. Clearing her throat, she tried again. “I'm sorry. Mommy is just a little upset. I didn't mean to wake you,” she said. Alaina reached up and wiped the remaining tears from her eyes. She had to do this, she had to keep control. Fate needed her.

“It's okay mommy,” said the little girl. Fate then leaned forward, wrapping her small arms around her mother's neck. Alaina smiled and hugged the girl, rubbing her back softly. “We just need to think about happy things,” came the little girls sleepy voice in her ear. Alaina nodded, and thought deeply, pulling for a memory of Aiden or Chance. One came easily. Pulling Fate back into her lap, Alaina kissed the girls forehead lightly.

“Remember playing in the snow with daddy and Chance last winter?” she asked. Fate nodded, grinning.

“Daddy snuck snow down the back of your dress,” Fate said, her voice full of giggles. The infectious sound crawled through Alaina's skin, and she giggled herself.

Alaina sat on the cold front step of their small home, watching the children play. The snowball fight between the two was in full force. Each twin had built a small fort. Aiden had helped with Chance's, and Alaina had aided Fate. Thus why Fate's was still standing, and Chance's castle-like construction was crumbling a little more with every well aimed snowball from his female counter-part. Aiden had a knack for wanting more grand things, and Chance shared that trait. Alaina and Fate had simply gone for functionality. One big thick wall. No turrets, no towers, no silly decorations. Just a giant wall of snow and ice to cover her.

Alaina smiled as one of Fate's snowballs met with the middle tower of Chance's castle/fort. A pile of glittering white snow crumpled down on top of Chance's head, and he half screamed, half giggled. Alaina clapped through gloved hands, and Aiden hollered.

“Hurry up, champ! Fix it!” he called from beside Alaina. He kept trying to get up and run over, but Alaina set a hand on his thigh, and he remained in his seat.

“Just let them play,” she said with a smile. “They're having fun.”

“Yeah but I screwed up making that fort. I should have done what you did, instead of trying to make the Grand Castle of Chance,” replied Aiden.

“Oh, I think it was beautiful,” Alaina started. “..When it was still standing,” she finished quietly with a grin. Aiden stuck his tongue out at her, then smiled and leaned in for a kiss. Aiden's rough lips met hers, and she leaned further against her husband, savoring the warmth coming from him. A tickling around her neck distracted her, and she started to pull away. Not soon enough, however, as Aiden's arm clamped around her lower back, and icy cold snow trickled down her back and between her shoulder blades. Alaina gasped loudly, and the two twins, who'd halted there snowball fight to watch this interesting spectacle giggled. Wiggling from Aiden's grasp, Alaina jumped from her seat and started pulling the back of her dress away from her skin.

“Oh! Oh! Oh!” she squealed loudly. “Cold butt!” Alaina danced around while Aiden, Chance, and Fate all laughed and giggled.

[Ataraxis]

”Chance was being a precocious pig and tried to steal my clothes while I bathed, although that’s irrelevant now.” Now that she was in the presence of Aiden, the young librarian did not evince any apparent shame from the scantiness of her clothing, wearing nothing but netlike strips of webs over curves that could not belong to a child of sixteen. After all, she had been in enough embarrassing situations with him as her chortling audience that this exposition of hers paled in importance. Once, as they were scavenging Luthmor for synthesizing ingredients, Lillian had fallen into a shallow river, revealing in her dripping rise a set of buxom assets through the soaked fabric of her unfortunately white dress. At least this time, she was swathed in a more modest black.

“I was throwing dirt at him when he suddenly stopped.” Under the glare of the fires, his face lit up with intrigue, the shadows darkening the perk of his eyebrow. It seemed as though a bud of anger made the corner of his mouth twitch, but Lillian was in no mood for yet another scolding. “Oh lighten up; he stole my clothes, I dirty his – fair trade. In any case, it’s what he said after stopping that concerns me, Aiden.” Her chin dropped lower, the mop of her hair now shielding her from the firelight, immersing her face in an unsettling gloom. When she returned her gaze to his, worry had lightly creased her forehead, worry that had even leaked to her eyes. “He said that someone was hurting his mother. Aiden, he actually can feel that Alaina is being hurt.”

And if he knows that, then… Lillian left her thought for Aiden to finish, concerning herself with more pressing manners. Quickly, she slipped into her boots and slid back into the off-white comfort of her gown, completely uncaring of the dirt stains it harbored after touching the muck of earth. It felt different with underwear that felt like floss, but she had no time to consider the pros and cons of magic web versus silk and simply balled up her underpants and shoved them into a pocket. It didn’t take much time for her to gather the few oddments that lay strew across the clearing, although her dagger had somehow snuck out to hide in a tall parcel of grass. “Chance has been out like that ever since. He followed me back to the camp just fine, but there’s not much more I can say. I don’t even know if he could hear me back then.”

Upon voicing her assessment, the girl was already done strapping the bags to the horses, which had been leisurely grazing and whinnying as she brought Aiden up to speed. Turning back in a flutter of white frills and silky black hair, she gave Aiden a good and long look, hoping that he had added two and two together. “We have to set out quickly. Chance… Chance seems to have a connection of some sort with her – with them. It might not last long, so we at least need him to point us in the right direction before the link is severed!” She put emphasis on her last words to hasten the man, while she hurriedly saddled her horse. She pulled herself up with the leather pommel, a booted feet pushing against the stirrup while she swung her free leg over to sit astride the saddle. “Don’t think that deer will fit in our bags, though. You could cut out a piece and take a firebrand to cook it on the go, if you want.”

[Fate]

Mommy was back to the lock. Fate sat across the cell watching her. Her mother was on the floor, hand snaked out through the metal bars that made up of their cell door. One thin hand was clamped around the heavy lock. Fate didn't need to see the blue aura that her mother had fed into the keyhole. Being a Salus herself, she could feel it. Every few seconds came the tinker of the lock as her mother reformed the aura, and tried another key formation. She'd been at it for at least an hour, which to Fate felt like years. The little girl sighed impatiently. Her stomach ached with hunger. She kept wondering how long a Salus could survive without food.

“I saw that stupid key. When he came to grab me, I stared straight at it. Now I just have to recreate the damned thing,” her mother said in quiet tones. The lock clinked softly again, and her mother sighed. Fate looked down and began fiddling with the gossamer ends of her dress. The fabric was dirty and starting to fray from dragging against the cement floor. She pulled a few threads from the fabric and let them fall to the floor.

“Did you try burning it?” Fate asked with disinterest, still picking apart the hem of her dress. She was sure that her mother had already thought of it, and tried it. Alaina confirmed this, and the lock clinked again. Another fail. Fate let go of her dress hem stood up on wobbly legs to walk aimlessly around the cell. She felt weak from lack of food, but couldn't stand sitting anymore. She was bored and growing hopeless. Then, suddenly, she stopped dead in the center of the room. Her eyes narrowed slightly, and she stared off into space. She registered vaguely that her mother was now staring at her with worry.

“It's okay, mommy,” she said softly. She looked up at her mother and smiled. Alaina's look of worry subsided slightly, but whispers of it yet remained.

“I know, pumpkin. I'm going to get this lock,” said her mother. Fate shook her head gently.

“No, no. Daddy is coming. Chance and daddy and.. someone else,” Fate said. Alaina looked at her daughter curiously.

“Can you feel Chance nearby?” Alaina asked. Fate nodded.

The two sat in silence for a time, when a sudden click startled the two into alertness. Alaina gasped slightly, and Fate, looking at the lock, could see why. The bolt had clicked, and the fat heavy bottom of the lock had fallen, leaving it open. Her mother pulled the it from the door, and looked at the hunk of metal in her hand with amazement. Fate giggled and clapped, then ran to her mother. Alaina held her hand up to shush her, and Fate stopped, a small hand covering her mouth.

“We have to be very, very quiet, love. Can you be a quiet mouse? Not one little tiny peep, pumpkin,” Alaina said softly. Fate nodded with all the excitement a six year-old could contain. “Alright sweetie,” Alaina spoke as she gently set the lock onto the floor with a slight clunk. Standing again, she put her hands gently on the door, and pushed it. Fate stood behind, watching with a racing heart. The door budged quickly open with a loud creak, as the metal scratched it's way out of it's tight jam, then swung open the rest of the way easily. Fate was so excited she wanted to giggle and scream and jump, but her mother's words repeated in her head, and she kept as quiet as a mouse.

[Varia]

Alaina stepped cautiously out of the cell, and with that first free step, excitement bubbled up in her chest. She felt as ecstatic as her daughter, and wanted to squeal with pleasure. They'd be out soon. Reaching back, Alaina grabbed her daughter's hand and squeezed it. Both pale appendages were cold and clammy in their fear-filled excitement. Alaina's heart raced just as her daughter's, and she began her slow and cautious descent down the long hall. Fate's slipper-like shoes made soft padding noises, as Alaina's large clunking boots thudded loudly no matter how slowly and carefully she stepped. When they reached the end of the hall, she squeezed her daughter's hand once more, before placing a hand on the large wooden door. Pushing firmly, but slowly, it creaked open and Alaina peered out. She knew what she'd find as she'd already been through this part of the building before.

Just as when Ishadin had dragged her through, an empty room containing nothing but two other large wooden doors and a staircase greeted her. Alaina pulled her daughter in close, and placed a hand on her shoulder. Peering down, she spoke in a soft whisper. “Do you remember how I taught you to use the shield, sweetie?” She saw the girls head nod up and down against her side, and she nodded herself. “If anything happens, if we run into that man and I get hurt or left behind, you run as fast and as far as you can. Keep your shield up and just run, pumpkin,” Alaina said as she rubbed her daughter's shoulder gently. “Run and reach out for Chance, baby. You'll find him.” Feeling the little girl nod again, she began the slow journey up the long stone staircase with her daughter beside her.

At the top of the steps was another room Alaina had already seen. A large rather empty room with only a few bits of torn up, ripped up, broken bits of furniture that looked like it hadn't been touched in centuries. The drapes on the curtains were black and filthy. It seemed they had no purpose but to keep out as much light as possible. The ceiling was high and intimidating. The room contained two doors, and one archway. On the right, was the door Ishadin had taken her into for torture. Alaina shivered slightly, and her wounds seemed to flare again staring at that closed door. On the left was another wooden door, shut tight. Alaina peered straight forward at the archway, and walked for it slowly, clutching Fate to her side. Reaching the archway, she stepped quickly and quietly to the right side of it, ushering the girl behind her. Peering around it, she saw a huge entrance hall, with doors off to either side. Some were open, but most remained closed. Alaina saw on the right side of the hall, a flickering light that could only be a lit candle. The light was coming from one of the open doors about halfway down the hall. That had to be where Ishadin was.

The length of the hall after seeing that open door seemed miles long. There was no way they could make it across that distance without him hearing, without him seeing. Alaina kneeled and turned to face her daughter.

“Okay baby, we're going to have to make a run for it. He's in a room about halfway through,” Alaina spoke so quietly that Fate had to lean so close their faces almost touched. The worry on her daughter's face was apparent, and Alaina tried to reassure her. “Don't worry sweetie. He could be asleep for all we know. We just have to run as quickly, but as quietly as we can. You run in front of me, okay?” Fate nodded, and Alaina stood again. Ushering the little girl in front of her, Alaina pulled in a deep breath, and placed her hands on Fate's shoulders. A quick nudge told Fate that the race was on, and the little girl took off across the hall. Alaina followed behind.

Just after they'd passed the door, it began. A clanging noise came from the room like a chair being thrown to the floor, and then a loud grunt of rage. Ishadin was chasing them. Alaina's aura flared bright, glittering blue, and formed into a shield blocking the her upper thighs, and the lower portion of her back. Just in time, because Alaina felt a spell hit it hard just as Fate reached the door, and she had to throw her hands out to keep from ramming into her daughter, who was pushing the wooden monstrosity with all her might. The sudden force of Alaina's near fall helped budge it, and the door swung open wildly, bending the hinges as it rocketed violently to the right. Ishadin roared behind them, sending another wild blast that hit the already wounded door. Splinters of wood sprinkled Alaina's thick black hair.

Ahead of them was the very forest they'd been captured in. They couldn't even be far from where Ishadin had appeared, the plants and trees looked very similar. Fate bolted out the door, and Alaina followed after. Fate's soft shoes hardly made a sound padding over the damp ground, while Alaina's boots crunched twigs loudly, and stomped down plants. Another spell rammed against Alaina's shield, and she whimpered as she stumbled, barely keeping her balance. Fate, sadly, didn't have as much luck as her long flowing dress caught a branch that she'd tried to hop over.

Alaina gasped and tried to reach out for the girl, but it was no good. Fate screamed as she crumpled to the ground, and Ishadin, closing in on them again, sent a spell that seemed to soak right into the little girl's foot. Fate scrambled to get up, but her right foot seemed limp where the glowing red magic had seeped in. Alaina reached down and grabbed her by the middle, wrenching her upwards sending screams of pain through her damaged body. The little girl stood waveringly, before Alaina scooped her up in her arms, and ran as fast as she could while dodging bright, loud explosions coming from behind her.

[DarkStorm]

Aiden fought down the wave of nausea and panic that threatened to over-ride his senses. He had no doubt that his son was telling the truth- why would the boy lie about something like that? Chance stood motionless, staring into the distance. His hands hung limp at his sides, and his eyes swam with unshed tears. In that moment, he could feel his life falling apart. How many families would he lose to his own negligence? This would surely be the last. If he lost Alaina, or one of his children, this would be his last adventure, before his knife parted his own skin. He couldn't bear the thought of what could be happening to his wife right now. With no solid knowledge, his imagination made it far worse.

Standing quickly, Aiden strode to where the horses were tied to the tree, and pulled his Damascus Torch Spear from beneath his mounts girth strap. The Torch Spear was basically a six foot tall spear, with one of his ends fused to a torch cage. Striding to the fire they had built up, the man thrust the cage into the fire, and fished it around until a sizable chunk of burning wood dropped into it. Pulling the torch up, he let the gate like face of the cage fall shut.

Striding quickly to his horse, he lifted the spear into the air, and rammed it down. Digging into the earth with the sharp point, the Torch Spear swayed slightly, causing shadows to dance as the fire wavered. Moving back to his son, he knelt down and gazed into those watery, ice blue eyes so like Alaina's.

"Which way are they, Champ?" Aiden asked. When his son didn't respond, he shook his shoulders slightly, but carefully. "Please, Chance. Daddy needs to rescue them. Which way?"

This time, Chance lifted his arm, and pointed over Aiden's shoulder. Smiling, Aiden pulled his son into a tight hug, and fought back tears as he did so. The thought of leaving his son behind was torture, but the only alternative was to take him into the heart of danger, and he refused to take that risk. Releasing Chance, he stood and met Lillian's eyes. His emerald eyes burned with desperation behind the thin curtain of moisture that threatened to turn into tears. At that moment, he could have killed whatever anonymous git had coined the phrase 'boys don't cry.'

"This has obviously gotten more dangerous. I won't ask you to follow me to a possible death. I'll be back. Please... please take care of my son. He may be a precocious pig, but he is just a boy. Just a boy." Aiden repeated.

Before she had an opportunity to respond, Aiden turned and ran back to his horse. Pulling the Torch Spear up from the ground, he climbed into the saddle, and kicked the horse into motion.

I'm coming. Let them be okay. Please let them be okay. Please, please, please....[hr]Ahead, fire lit the night. Not the fire of torchlight, or moon. It was the fire of an explosion. A scream pierced Aiden's ears, a scream which he instinctively recognized as his daughters. Breathing heavily, his heart beating faster than he could ever remember, he lifted his Torch Spear high into the air. Wind whipped at the flame, causing it to gutter harshly, but it held. Its light was all that kept his mount from stumbling, or breaking a leg in the darkness. Ahead, Aiden saw figures in the darkness.

One face made his heart sing with happiness beyond comprehension. Fate's expression, of terror and pain, did little to subdue that glee, for if she was in pain, that meant she was alive to feel it. He could feel his eyes watering in relief. The second face his eyes settled on eased the tension in his chest. Alaina's face, tainted with that same fear, was the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on. The last face to enter his field of vision nearly bereft his lungs of air.

The surge of rage that came to life in him was one of the strongest emotions he had ever felt, seconded only to his love for his family. And indeed, that was part of the cause of this rage. The memories still plagued him. Watching his wife and children murdered, while he was held helpless, in the grip of an unrelenting magic. And now, the face responsible for the death of his first family turned. Ishadin's eyes settled on Aiden, and burned with a maniac glee. Without hesitation, fueled by ire, Aiden hurled the Damascus Torch Spear with all his might. The still burning torch end left a line of fire through the shadows of the night, as the point sought the Kin-slayer's heart. But to his disappointment, the bloody-haired, grey eyed man sidestepped the attack, and smiled arrogantly as the torch stabbed into a tree behind him. Wavering with the force of the impact, the spear uselessly held fast in the side of the tree, though it still provided light.

Kicking the horse harder, Aiden forced it in front of Alaina and Fate, between them and the man that had been pursuing them. Leaping from the saddle, the Fell Human's hands moved toward Ishadin, though twenty feet still separated them. As if by magic, four knives sailed through the air toward the man. Aiden's shout of impotent rage echoed through the forest.

[Fate]

At first, the sound of hooves beating the ground towards them scared Fate. However, once the great mane of dreadlocks came into view, her fear subsided. Her father was here. She felt her mother gasp as Aiden's large black horse was reigned around to block them from Ishadin. Fate was quickly set down to balance on her one good leg. Looking up at her mother, she watched the woman grab the reigns without a word to her father. Shortly after her mother's other hand took hold of hers, and she was helped along a short distance, hopping on her left leg with her mother balancing her. When the grunts, maniacal laughter and other strange sounds had grown a little more distant, Fate's mother stopped, and turned while kneeling, to look the girl in the eyes.

“Baby, I know this horse is a little big for you, but do you think you can guide it well enough?” her mother asked. Fate gazed at the huge beast. She nodded slowly. “Good girl. Get on and find your brother. Can you feel him?” Alaina asked, raising her eyebrows hopefully. Fate nodded again. She could feel the presence of her brother just as well as she could feel the soft breeze on her face.

“He's close,” she said softly. Her mother nodded and quickly picked the girl up, turning to boost her up into the saddle. Fate looked down at her mother worriedly. “Is daddy going to be okay?” she asked. Her mother smiled warmly at her.

“Your daddy is the strongest, toughest daddy there is. He'll be alright. I'm just going to go back there and give him a hand. You go right to Chance honey, and you run if you hear anyone that isn't me or your father, okay?” Alaina finished and took a deep breath. Fate could see the anxiety in her mother's face, no matter how well the woman tried to conceal it. Still, she would follow her orders. Fate gave her mother a brave smile, and nodded once more.

“Yes mommy,” she said. Alaina smiled, before smacking the rump of the horse to set it in motion. Fate heard a faint “Be careful!” before all the sounds save for the pounding of hooves died away. Fate turned to face forward, hoping dearly she could stay on this monstrous horse.

[Varia]

Alaina stood quite still for a moment, watching her daughter clutching the saddle of Aiden's horse, trying desperately to stay on. She almost regretted not going with her daughter. She trusted in the bond that Fate had with her brother, but still she couldn't cope with the fact that she'd just sent her daughter off alone in the forest, on a horse she couldn't control very well. Half of her wanted to run after the girl, but the other half of her mind was still on her husband. ”Aiden is in more danger right now. Fate will be fine,” she thought to herself. As if this was the shot gun starting the race, Alaina sprang into action and turned quickly before running back to Aiden.

When she arrived in the clearing, her heavy footfalls made Aiden turn his head. “Alaina, GO!” he shouted with surprise his face was sweaty and strained, a mixture of fear and rage plastered across his harsh features. Alaina shook her head and ran up behind her husband. Shoving his long coat to the side, she reached down and pulled out the knife that she knew would be clipped to the back of his pants, gripping it tightly in her hand.

“I'm not leaving you to this,” she grunted. Stepping up beside Aiden, she glared at the pale face that was smiling so pleasantly at the two of them. Ishadin stood so perfectly still, hands clasped behind his back. It was almost as if they were about to have a nice little chat in the middle of the forest.

[DarkStorm]

Fear roiled inside of him like boiling water. A high pitched whine, like metal rubbing against metal, issued through the forest as several bright flashes of jade colored light erupted in front of Ishadin, and the Fell Human's well-aimed knives spun away into the darkness. By the fluttering light of the Torch Spear, still embedded in the tree as it was, Aiden could see the smile that crept over the man's pale face. He was like some demon from folklore, his complexion paler than snow, his hair redder than blood, and his eyes as steely grey as a sword. Though his clothing had changed since the last time Aiden had seen him, his face had remained the same, and his eyes were still just as cold.

Dressed in black, with chains stretching randomly over his clothing, he was an intimidating figure. He stood perfectly still, staring at Aiden with malice written in every line and angle of his face.

"Well, well. If I had known it would be so easy to lure you here, I won't have bothered to torture your whore." Ishadin said quietly.

Alarmed at his words, Aiden turned to look at Alaina. Only now did he see the patches of scarlet on her white dress. Again, nausea threatened to give rise to the contents of his stomach. His eyes blazed with concern and rage in equal measure. Ignoring the gloating Ishadin as best he could, Aiden spoke to Alaina quietly, all of his heart in his words.

"I'm sorry."

Before she had a chance to respond, Ishadin laughed. "You're not as sorry as you will be."

Aiden turned in time to watch the man pull his hands out from behind his back. Shadows swirled around his right hand, and a scarlet light burned inside and around that darkness. Like blood draining over glass, the crimson light flowed out and molded together to take on the shape of a Great Sword. Easily as tall as Aiden, it quickly solidified into a metal blacker than any the Fell Human had ever seen. It looked strong, and yet, Ishadin held it easily in one hand. A sickly red light rolled over the surface of the weapon. Turning to look at Alaina, the man smiled his loathsome smile.

"And now Aiden, you lose another wife." Before the words had fully left his mouth, the man lunged forward, the blade seeking Alaina.

Unthinking, driven only by his love for her, Aiden threw himself at her, his shoulder knocking her clear of the weapon.

[Ataraxis]

It was no twin bond, but Lillian could feel in her guts that Aiden was in great danger. She had noticed the queasy turmoil in her stomach ever since he told her to stay put and look after Chance, but after waiting in the foreboding silence, in one of the sedge-infested eyes of Luthmor, it had become a physical affliction, like clammy hands tugging at her innards. The repressed anger Aiden had incurred within her was all but gone, and in its place was the one thing tshe thought she would never feel for the man, whom the girl had always believed to embody both strength and a praiseworthy will to survive.

Fear for his life.

The scale of her dilemma, of standing on the sidelines or making for the forefront, had finally tilted to one side, and her tone was now host to finality as she stared into the dark curtain that hung from every bough. “I’m going after him.” A slanted pull of the reins was enough to stir the horse, directing its flowing mane to the path her friend had rode down in such haste. Her head was turned to look at Aiden’s son, sitting within the warmth of the amber ring, his recently-shod feet swaying slowly from side to side, on both flanks of the campfire.

“Your father will resent me for this, but less than if I brought you along. Chance, I need you to stay here, near the fire; it will keep the creatures of this forest at bay.” Most of them, she thought, but it was a risk she would take nonetheless, for the alternative was certain to lead him into the expectant arms of his mother’s tormentor. “If no one has returned when the fire begins to gutter, then… mount your horse and head for the south, to the nearest town.”

Because Chance had been so languid, so distant since the last he spoke, Lillian had expected full compliance in the form of a deliberate nod. Nothing had prepared her to see the tacit boy driving his boot into the fire, spreading embers and ashes in its wake. Before the darkness had consumed them all, with the last flash of the dying flames, Chances vacant eyes were alight with an electric spark, belying none of his resolve.

There was not much Lillian could do, now. Her choices were to either let the beasts come, or come to the beast itself – and whatever her decision, she would need to keep him close. “Smart move, I’ll give you that. Let’s go.”
And so, as soon as the boy had bestrode the smaller horse, Lillian jammed her heels down, spurring the creature into a maddened gallop, disappearing behind the charcoal veil of the woods with the Fell son in tow.


Hours and minutes, they had all become the same. Haring steep and slippery inclines, leaping over moss-infested boles and shooting onward, astride their stolen steeds, they had entered a dash that seemed as though it would never end. Twice had the horses nearly reared up before an unseen precipice, and twice more had they almost buckled under their weight after tripping on a rooted snag. Their morale was down, and Lillian was beginning to doubt the accuracy of Chance’s visions. Just when she was about to enquire on the matter, however, an unexpected apparition came to cross their tortuous path.

“Sissa!” The cheerful exclamation had come not far behind her, and the thunder of hooves eked in volume until the image of Chance flitted by her right, cantering to meet the small figure in white, assumedly his sister or ‘sissa’. It came as a surprise, the emotions that had laced his voice, but she knew that if something was to break his lethargy, than its very cause was the likeliest bet. The strength of his twin’s call had submerged him in a reciprocated pain, and the strength of it now had released him from its dire clutch. “You’re safe!”

The boy tried to take her into his arms, but as his own mount neared hers, it became quite apparent that it was troublingly disproportionate to her diminutive size. She was straddled a few feet above him, her blackened knees falling limp about the height of his head. In the end, they settled for holding hands, and she could see them tremble from the relief of seeing one another again.

Something peculiar was hiding behind this heartwarming picture, and Lillian had not missed it. She squinted her eyes, cutting into the thick veil of darkness to see the familiar form and night-black coat of Aiden’s horse, or at least the one he had indefinitely borrowed. “Did Aiden send you back, um… Fate, was it?”

“Yes… and no, mommy did.” Something in her voice betrayed her mistrust of Lillian, as though the librarian was something from whom it was best to run away. However, she kept her calm, figuring that Lillian was not dangerous since Chance was riding with her, only staring at the taller girl with the icy glaze of her eyes, full of the same strength that began to flood from Chance’s.

“She told me go straight for Chance, but… oh, you’re the other person I felt.” To that, Lillian only answered with a bemused frown, but Fate seemed not to care, more concerned about keeping her balance about this equine titan.
“We’re going to help mommy and daddy, sissa!” Chance cried out in a hurry, pulling on the reins in preparation. Fate’s eyes faltered just then, as though her brother had brought up to the surface what fearful things she had seen when her mother told her to leave, to run. “We have to, Fate! They might get hurt if we don’t come and help, maybe even worse!”

“I’m not going to put you both in danger, now!” Lillian shouted, almost in a snarl. This talk of saving tired her, because these children were trying to play heroes when they were more likely to end up the victims in distress. Unfortunately, the mirrored look in their eyes told her something she wasn’t quite ready to realize. “Oh alright, I’ll be in as much danger as you two, but my life is my own responsibility!”

“Well our lives are our responsibility, and you’re not the boss of us!” the boy shouted, striking a chord in the librarian’s mind. In the end, could she keep them from going back to the heart of danger? And even if she could, would she really force them to stay and do nothing while their family was being torn apart?

A low grunt rolled out of her throat as she tightened her grip around the bridle. “Why’d they have to be smart kids?” she sighed amusedly, waving the white flag. The twins cheered, both a great deal chipper than they had previously been while separated, as though being in close proximity to one another gave them an unexpected strength. Lillian smiled with reluctance, because she still felt it creep inside her bowels, the omen that they would most likely need all the strength they had. “Giddyup!”


Only several minutes later, voices resounded near, faint but not all lost in the coiling branches of the forest, among which was a recognizable one. The low, near feral sound of Aiden’s timbre had caught her ear, and in her impetus she kicked harder at the horse’s sides, making for a wild dash. With every inch, she could hear more, and the more she heard, the deeper her worries became. Whoever was with Aiden seemed to speak without a care, his speech so easygoing it seemed the hallmark of any priggish salon. Only, his words could come only from the filthiest slums of the most sinful city to ever soil the lands.

And there he was, the owner the foulest tongue, looking down on Aiden with derision, a smirk so despicable splitting his face in half that it brought Lillian’s blood to boil. Something about the man, whether it be his sanguine hair or the lifeless grey of his eyes, or even his dubious fashion, which was a few leather-straps short of becoming a hog-tie, made her cringe, riled her up, chafed at the very edges of her composure, pulling at the frays to see her ire unravel. It was, however, his presence that vexed her so, the malevolent aura that seeped from his every gesture.

And it was this malevolence that the man focused into his hefted palm. The air seemed to dry, the tall seemed to pale, etiolate, as though the essence of their vitality was siphoned away by a fiery darkness that spread across the benighted glade. Blots of black congregated about his sprawled fingers, amassing into what seemed like an ink stain on the fabric of reality, a light of blood pervading the shadowy husk from the blur of its crimson heart.

He spoke jovially, always with that nauseating slit across his ghastly visage. With a feather-light leap, he brought the mass of red-tinged darkness to bear, the dark thing now molded into the features of an immense blade. The swing was aimed at a woman Lillian had only noticed then, its arc deadly and quick; alas, Aiden had been quicker.

As he knocked his wife away with the full force of his bound, so did the black sword force its way into his chest, impaling him upon the sorcerous weapon. Blood shot out of the wound as though from a great fountain, but there was no beauty to behold in the scarlet mist. The grey of the stranger’s gaze reflected no joy as it watched the red stuff drip, impregnating the nightly sheen of the umbral blade, mixing with the rubious fog of its magic.

Fuming was the murderer’s blackened face, its once composed lines twisted with rage and frustration as he soaked the ground red with blood. In his attempt to make Aiden suffer by murdering his wife, the sorcerer had inadvertently slain his nemesis. Lilian’s eyes were round and wide, empty wells as they fell witness to what she had augured all along...

Aiden was no more.

[Varia]

Alaina fell to the ground with such force that she feared she'd broken her arm. In the force that Aiden had shoved her, he'd fallen with her, his weight landing full on her legs. Worry did not seep into her as she fell. She touched her chest and found no wound. Aiden had saved her. She sat up, expecting to see the enraged face of her husband. Aiden got mad when men tried to make a pass at her, how would he feel..

Alaina sat up, with Aiden's head falling perfectly into her lap. Looking down, her breath caught in her chest when she saw the surprised look upon her husband's face, and her eyes wandering further down, the heavy black sword that disappeared into his chest.

"No.." was the only word that escaped her lips in that halted moment. Her breath came in short, her voice was quiet and cracked. She reached a hand out towards the sword, not knowing what she was doing. Would she pull it out? She felt the need to touch it just to see if it was real. This couldn't be real. Aiden was her husband. He made a vow to be with her always. Alaina's eyes filled with tears. The blood flowing from Aiden's body was soaking her own legs, and the warm feeling only aided the sensation of numb. It flowed through her body and her heart. She touched the face of her gasping, choking lover and felt cool skin. There was no saving him.

"Aiden!" she screamed. But as she did, his breaths subsided, the slight tremors in his body ebbing. "No, Aiden.. Baby come on!" Alaina said, running her hands over his shoulders and face. She didn't know what to do. This had to be a dream. Some trickery Ishadin had placed in her mind. It wasn't real. Aiden could live through anything. The man was tough and solid and eternal. Aiden was the very epitome of never-ending life and here he was in front of her, ending. Alaina began to sob fully now, great big warm tears flowing freely down her face. She cried, she screamed, she choked on her own breath. She cradled her dead husbands upper body in her arms, unaware of the man pulling the blade from his chest. Unaware of the scream of rage that came from him. Nothing existed but her and her husband.

Until three sets of feet plopped down from seemingly nowhere. Looking up, she saw her two children, and another woman dismounting their horses, and walking slowly towards her. Fear flooded into her veins as she saw the twin's innocent faces. The two things she had left that were still part Aiden. She opened her mouth to scream, to tell them to run. As it were, as it always seemed to be, she wasn't fast enough. Trapped under her husband's weight, she couldn't move quickly enough away, only watch helplessly as Ishadin grabbed Chance.

Scurrying to her knees, dead leaves clinging to her blood-sodden gown, she tried to stand on weak legs. Too late, too late, too late..

Ishadin was grinning, clutching a screaming, kicking, crying Chance with one arm. He waved politely, with a slight up-and-down motion of his fingers, as a purple glow surrounded the two. A purple glow, seemingly coated in black. One step backwards, and another of her kin was gone. Rage filled alaina as well as desperation. She turned on the woman.

"Who the hell are you?" she screamed the question at the young girl. The pale face she stared at, so much like her own, was split across with both pain and surprise. She blubbered and couldn't answer. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" she shouted again. She reached a hand up and slapped the girl across the face. "THAT WAS MY SON! What were you thinking pulling him into this?" Alaina was sobbing through her rage. Wheeling around she picked up the knife she'd dropped as Aiden had shoved her. It seemed so very long ago. Turning again, she brandished it at the girl, ushering her own child to stand behind her. One day, one simple day and her family had been halved. The male half cut from the whole by one man aided by this woman.

[Ataraxis]

The void that death had left in its grim wake had rendered speechless, but her voice was not the only thing she had lost. No sound seemed to reach her, as though her ears had fallen deaf to the rustles of woods, the crunch of the grass as the woman struggled beneath the fading warmth of her husband. Yet she could see the killer of her friend, the one who had ended his life, taking Chance away in a breath of violet dusk. Time hung silence, the world had ceased its spin, and Lillian mouthed soundless, senseless words as she watched the void where the child had once stood.

The burning blaze that swept across her face had trawled her out of the cold abyss, so strong it sent her head to the ground, her body tumbling after it like falling lumber. A bed of green blades grazed her cheek as she skittered across the forest floor, and the smell of wet dirt overwhelmed her when her body wallowed in the grass. Sharp quavers riled her, the girl trembling as her fingers bit the hard muck, pushing her upper body a few inches high, heaving painfully with every shallow and arrhythmic breath.

The woman, Alaina, was trembling just as bad, and Lillian could see written across her face that no amounting of hurt she inflicted would quell the anger, slake the desire of which she struggled to find the nature. Her son, she screamed, her son was gone, just as her husband had left her to these mortal coils, the bonds that were suffocating her even now. She said, she cried and wailed how it was the young girl’s fault, her ireful accusations cut sharp every now and then by a rain of sobs. There, sprawled on the damp and frigid ground, Lillian only shook, and there was no denial in the lineaments of her face.

It was her fault, all of it. Stubborn as she was, she had vainly attempted to do what had cost Aiden his life, but in her failure she had not been granted the hold of death, instead bringing demise to a life not her own. It was because of her that Chance was gone, and that he would soon join his father beyond the sphere of life, if it was not already the case.

“Aiden… Chance…” The storm of shame and humility, of sorrow and guilt, forced her down, made her bury her face in the mustiness underneath, made her wish that she herself had been taken to the grave. It was all she deserved, she thought, and not even that would ever atone for her mortal errors. “I’m sorry. I-I thought he needed my help, b-but I just made things worse.” Try as she might, she could not look Alaina directly in the eye, and her words were nothing more than stutters of remorse, feeling so small and senseless, no matter how much pain she poured out from her heart. “I knew the risks, but I came anyway because I… because I was v-vain.”

When she finally dared to look, Lillian knew that the widow had finally found what it was that her weeping heart desired most. In the bloodless hand she hefted, a knife was ensconced, shaking as the last ramparts between intention and act were toppled to the allegorical ground. It was as if Alaina saw in the worthless creature that lay at her feet the image of her enemy, the grinning face of her only son’s abductor and her husband’s murderer; it was just as well, Lillian told herself weakly, her chin dropping slowly in abandonment. She had brought the boy to him, and might as well have held the bloody sword. Remembering that death would never be enough expiate her sins, she at least took the faintest comfort in knowing that her own would help in the woman’s mourning.

“Mommy, stop!” It was strange, how such a small voice could carry out and wake the dead, or at least those nearest to the withered border. Lillian held her filth-smeared face up, a glimpse of Fate gracing her lowliest sight. The child was tearing up as much as the two other women, but she had not yet lost that strong glimmer in her eyes, as had Lillian and Alaina. “She’s the other person who was with daddy and Chance! We made her take us, mommy, and we were going to come back no matter what!”

The knife shook in her hand, trying to free itself from her moral clutch, seeking to tear Lillian’s flesh apart and drink her sinner’s blood. Oddly, Lillian found herself wishing the woman would just end it, here and now, wishing that hope would not catch her in the fall, only to release her into the swallowing darkness of the pits once more. “Mommy… Chance isn’t hurt. He’s… he’s really afraid, but he’s not hurt.”

The girl was on the verge of whimpering, eyes watering over as though pleading for her mother’s mercy, appealing to her forgiving soul. Yet, behind her words, Lillian saw what she implied, and knew what it was that she truly wanted. “She wants… to save him.”

There was more to it, but Lillian had not the strength to admit that to Fate, she was more helpful alive than dead. Even though she felt no joy from this show of false mercy, she had no right to disagree with its truthfulness. Whether Alaina would see it, however, was a whole other matter.

[Varia]

The knife dropped from Alaina's hands at her daughter's words. Covering her face with one hand, she half kneeled, half fell to the ground next to her daughter, pulling the girl close with her other hand. For a moment she'd forgotten that she wasn't the only one suffering this pain. She wrapped both arms around her baby and held her tight as the girl cried into her chest, and Alaina cried with her.

“I'm sorry, baby girl,” she said softly. Fate gave her a squeeze to say it was okay, and Alaina squeezed back. Pulling away, she brushed the girls hair out of her face, then kissed her forehead gently. “Honey can you tell where Chance is?” she asked hopefully. The little girl shook her head, and Alaina nodded. She hadn't expected this to be easy. “Then until we can find a clue as to where they went, we need to take care of..” Alaina's sentence broke off before it was complete. She couldn't seem to finish it. She didn't want to think about Aiden's death. Did he really die? She couldn't believe it possible. One look to her side, however, and it was confirmed.

Looking back to her daughter, Alaina tried on a smile. It fit awkwardly, but it was there. She ran her finger's through the girl's obsidian curls. “Fate?” she started. The little girl nodded, listening intently to her mother, as she always did. “I want you to pick flowers for daddy. Don't wander too far, though,” she finished. Fate nodded solemnly, big tears falling down her cheeks. Alaina brushed them away, all the while ignoring the flood of her own.

“It'll be okay mommy,” Fate said softly. Alaina smiled for real this time, however bitter the gesture was. She didn't know how anything could ever be okay again. Not after today. Even when they got Chance back, she'd still be sleeping in an empty bed. There'd be no warmth under her covers. There would be no smiling face to wake her every morning. No big arms to wrap around her when she was scared. No daddy to give her children piggy back rides. No Aiden. She wasn't complete anymore. She wasn't better. Even with Fate and Chance still alive, even if they managed to save Chance without Aiden. Alaina wouldn't ever be whole. Aiden had filled a void in her that nothing could ever replace.

As Fate wandered off to quietly pick her flowers, Alaina tended to her husband. Lily had offered to dig the grave, and Alaina allowed her that duty. After some reluctant searching in the building Alaina had just escaped from, they located a decent shovel and Lillian set to work. Alaina kneeled next to Aiden's cold body. Eyelids closed, hair smoothed, Alaina pulled his sword and one remaining knife, and set them on the ground with the knife she'd been holding earlier. Alaina removed his coat, and set it aside as well. Aiden had said long ago that once Chance could wear it without sweeping the floor, he'd be allowed to have it. She intended to keep that promise. Aiden's necklace, however, went around her neck. The bone necklace looked slightly awkward next to her soft pale skin, but she wore it with pride knowing how long it had graced her husband's neck.

When Lily had finished digging, and Fate done making a wreath out of flowers, they put Aiden in his grave. It took all Lillian and Alaina's strength to place him there, as Alaina wouldn't allow her daughter the trauma of lifting her father's corpse. Lily once again took over the shovel, as she gently placed mounds of dirt on top of Aiden's body. Alaina retrieved the torch spear from it's place in the trunk of a tree. It took three hard, grunting pulls before the spear would come out, but once removed, it moved to the head of Aiden's resting place. Alaina stuck it there for a grave marker, placing more wood into the top to give Aiden a bright, burning flame. He deserved better, in Alaina's mind. She wished she could give him better. For all the good the man had done in his life, he deserved an orchestra to play the saddest tune, and a castle full of mourning people.

The one thing he did get, was what Alaina thought to be the most beautiful wreath of wildflowers she'd ever seen. Fate placed it atop the mound of earth concealing her father, and Alaina began to cry again, for what seemed to be the hundredth time today. ”The longest day in history,” Alaina thought. As she held her daughter, Alaina stared at the grave. The sky was brightening all around them, and fog setting in. No words were spoken over Aiden's body. Alaina had said that no words would suffice. Nothing would suffice.

“We should probably get some sleep,” Alaina said after a bowing of their heads. She wanted to sleep and never wake again. Looking at the tired out and dirt-covered Lillian, she guessed she felt the same, but for different reasons. After a silent pause, where it seemed no one deemed it proper to leave Aiden's grave so soon, Lillian headed off first, and then Alaina. Fate stayed staring at the grave. Alaina looked back and beckoned her. “Come on, honey. We need some rest. It's been a long day,” she said.

“Daddy isn't gone,” Fate said. Alaina smiled, more tears breaking through the dam. She nodded to the girl.

“No, honey, Daddy isn't gone. He'll always be with us,” she said. Fate gave her a bittersweet smile, and they walked off to try and find a decent bed in the same place Alaina had been dying to get out of for days.

[Chance]

The silvery light of the moon flowed like a river through the barred window. Barely enough to chase away the shadows that pooled in the room like water in a basin, yet enough to make out the cold brick walls, and the chains that dangled from the ceiling. Across the room, a single door was easily visible, steel on stone. There was no handle or knob on this side of the door.

In the darkest corner sat a boy, his knees pulled up as close to his chest as they would go, his arms wrapped around them. With his face buried in his arms, he sobbed quietly. He knew that soon, his captor would make him wish he was dead, but for now... for now, all he could think about was the sight of his father lying dead, a sword through his chest.

The boy wept as the cold steel door creaked slowly open, and a pale hand came into view.


Here ends Saved.[hr]

Aiden DarkStorm's story is not over, so please give him Exp and Gold as per usual. Thankee.

Also, Alaina gets Aiden's sword and necklace, Lillian gets three of his knives, Fate the other three. His Torch Spear remains in the ground as his headstone.

Ataraxis- Nothing much here. I'd just like to add a skill/sub-skill to her Web abilities.

Seamstress of the Sinister – No longer is Lillian limited to weaving strings and webs. During her years of indiscriminate reading, the librarian has come across much knowledge concerning various forms of craftsmanships, notably that of tailoring and its multiple branches. After practical application of her knowledge by practising every morning, Lillian has become more adept at complex weaves, though she has only recently crafted crude pieces of clothing using her abilities. These items born of her magic have usually no ability of any sort, save for their similarity in appearance and properties to spidersilk. However, with more time and effort (a few weeks of assiduous work, perhaps), she would be capable of producing quality textiles nearly as strong as steel, while losing little to none of their flexibility. When left untouched for a day, the fabric becomes as any other material, and Lillian cannot make it disappear; as such, it can also be enchanted.

And thanks for reading!

[Letho]

General Notes: Even though the score at the end of this judgment will tell you the same thing, I just wanted to say straight of the bat that this was significantly better then the last thread. But then again, that should kind of go without saying; comparing a made-for-fun thread written while tipsy with a dead serious story with a profound meaning is seldom necessary. But since not everything is all peachy (it seldom is), let us move onto the rubric. Don't be alarmed by the initial numbers. They get better the further down you get. If I would have to sum this quest up in one sentence, I'd probably say that a threesome of good writers portrayed a collection of unique characters in a story that could use some improvement.

Oh, also so I don’t forget. Since all characters played important parts in this quest, I’ll be summing up all the posts and dividing them in five, so all characters get equal treatment. But yeah, let us proceed.


CONTINUITY – 6

I have to admit that, despite the flashbacks that gave an insight into the past of your character, I sometimes found a lack of certain information. Like, what exactly happen to Aiden’s previous family and who is this Ishadin character? This is something the thread revolved around – Ishadin’s desire to destroy Aiden – and the explanation for that you offered in a single sentence. On the flip side, pretty much every flashback told the story of family relation and their closeness. An important message and very well done, but also a bit overdone. Another thing that confused me is that there is no mention of history between Lillian and Aiden’s family. She seems to be close to them, and yet at the end Alania acts as if she doesn’t know her. Queer given the fact that they got drunk together. I reckon this is a ‘liquid time’ issue, but because of it, it is sometimes wise to clarify on the certain parts of you character’s history.

SETTING – 6

Sometimes the setting was well done. The cool pond in the forest that Lillian skinny dipped in was very vivid, and the emotional way in which Varia described the room that led to the torture chamber really bonded the setting and the character. Other times, however, the setting was overdone. The moment from the start of the story comes to mind, when Ataraxis described her room and her dark weaving. I honestly had to reread that part four times before I understood what you were trying to say there. There are many ways to write a good setting, but overburdening the descriptions with highfalutin words and overly complex sentences seldom does the trick. Aside from what I mentioned, the setting was rather average. My largest qualm is that sometimes a benighted forest didn’t feel like it was dark enough and you saw things clearly when you probably shouldn’t. It’s a common mistake, but still one that shouldn’t happen.

PACING – 5

My first piece of advice here is probably the most important. While flashbacks can be quite a useful tool to put certain things into perspective and portray certain aspects of your characters, it’s only good in moderate measures. Think of flashbacks as salt; if you put too much of it into your meal, it comes out inedible. Now, I think I counted six flashbacks during the course of this story, six in some thirty-odd posts. And that’s not counting Varia’s first post which went from past, to present, to past and then back to present. All of this makes for quite a bumpy ride, where the story doesn’t switch from one scene to the next smoothly enough. Combined with the habit of reverting back to a previous part of the story when the post above already moved it ahead (like when DarkStorm made Aiden saddle the horses and Lillian in her subsequent post returned to her room), this ruined the pacing of this thread a bit. I know that sometimes you need to explain certain things. This mostly happens when one of the characters takes the story a bit too far in his/her post. It usually gets ironed out the more you write with certain people, so I have no doubt you three will improve even further in this segment in your next quest.

DIALOGUE – 8

Most of the dialogue was quite fitting, and more importantly, easily distinguishable from character to character. With the two of you (Varia and DarkStorm) writing four of the five characters, it’s easy to sometimes get lost in the shuffle and write rather bland lines. That didn’t happen here, not even with the two children of the same age. I was a bit disappointed with Ishadin, though. He wound up like Saruman in Return of the King, getting but a handful of lines of dialogue.

ACTION – 7

Mostly, this was done very well. From Alania’s desperate struggle to save her child and herself to Aiden gung-hoing like Galahad. I have to admit that I was initially a bit surprised that Aiden chose to take Chance with him on a perilous mission. But you used the connection between the twins quite well. There were several details that stabbed at my eyes, though, like horses galloping through the night (which they wouldn’t) and Alania’s Mist shield taking quite a bit of punishment (which it probably shouldn’t at level 0, not if Ishadin isn’t firing shoddy Magic Missiles at her or something), but nothing major. All in all, good work.

PERSONA – 8,5

I was tempted to go with a nine here, but then I remembered two things that I didn’t like. First, Lillian failed to leave an impression on me in this quest, and given the fact that she bathed naked in a pond, that’s saying something. I had a feeling that she played too small of a role in this entire story and didn’t have a chance to really display the fullness of her character. And her surrender at the end was... strange. I mean, it wasn’t her fault that the two toddlers are stubborn like their father. She should feel guilty a little bit, but not enough to forfeit her life. The second thing was Ishadin. The poor fellow wound up being a token bad guy with little personality to speak of. Always strive to portray the NPCs more like you do your own characters.

MECHANICS – 8

Good, solid writing. You said that I shouldn’t point out every single typo and mistake and I have to say that I haven’t found many to point out to begin with. I found something else, though, and mostly in Varia’s post. You tend to overuse the comma, chopping the sentences when you shouldn’t. Just a quick example: “Next to him, was his sister Fate...” That comma was hardly necessary. This recurs during the quest, though not as much the closer I came to the end.

TECHNIQUE – 6,5

Three people, five characters and three different styles. I found it quite fitting that DarkStorm wrote Chance as well, and Varia wrote Fate (at least I got that feeling). This made not only the characters visibly different, but the writing as well. I would prefer all of you to evade some of the more commonly used similes (“Alaina crumpled to the floor like a rag doll...” and “Like a lightning bolt...” are neither very creative nor do they make your writing unique) and to omit the modern talk from your characters. I’m fairly certain that Jesus Christ didn’t visit Althanas yet.

CLARITY – 7

I think I might’ve mentioned in the setting that Ataraxis sometimes get tangled into her descriptions like... well, pretty much like Lillian got her room tangled in all those dark threads. This sometimes makes her post harder to write. I find it that the best way to achieve clarity is to find middle ground between being poetic and stating the hard facts. Too poetic and you write flowery narrative and to factual and you’re writing a manual, and neither are clear for reading. Try to keep an eye out for that.

WILD CARD – 8

I liked this quest. I might’ve came at you hard in the rubric with all the negative stuff, but I really did enjoy reading this quest. Even the fact that I’m not too fond of children and that there are two of them involved in the story didn’t kill the feeling for me. Now, that would’ve usually earned you a seven. The fact that DarkStorm killed his character (though not permanently, I reckon) to save his wife is worth an eight.



TOTAL SCORE – 70

Congratulations!!!



SPOILS:

DarkStorm gets 800 EXP, 300 GP and loses his sword, necklace, six daggers and Torch Spear.
Varia gets 800 EXP, 300 GP and gets Aiden’s sword and necklace.
Chance gets 800 EXP and 300 GP.
Fate gets 800 EXP, 300 GP and three Aiden’s daggers.
Ataraxis gets 1175 EXP, 300 GP, three Aiden’s daggers and her skill.


EXP/GP added!