3 Days Remain: ‘Friendship’

Closed to Philomel + Shinsou : Bunnying Approved by all parties
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Knife’s Edge. The Bustling hub of Salvar.

It was more like ‘You can’t fuckin’ find anything here’ city. The place was so congratulated. Nothing like the quiet and sparsity of Rubbletown. Amari’s free time was rare and far between, and she did not want to waste her three days wandering aimlessly in the city. Her Master; Lichensith Ulroke’ had given her free reign to do as she pleases and go where she pleased for 3 days, before she had to return to the Inner Sanctum. Amari knew it was some form of test. Everything was with him. She adored him, but she needed her own space to work on her own thoughts. Namely, what was happening with her appearance as of late.

It had only been a few months since her unwilling induction into the Crimson Hand. Back then, she had fought tooth and nail against her silver haired captor. Now, she fought tooth and nail for him. Oh how people change.

Amari sighed as she found another library. This one looked bigger than the last at least. She headed inside and was greeted by the smell of musty old books and a toothless grinning old man. “Ello luv, can I help ya?”

Amari shook her head. “Just looking.”

The man sat back down behind the large desk. Amari bit her lower lip. Truthfully. She really did need help. She needed a lot of it. She could barely read, but the topics she wanted information on were considered taboo to discuss.

Apparently, it was also taboo to stock them in any sort of store, library or archive too.

The redheaded woman murmured in a frustrating tone, as she wandered aimlessly down an aisle of books. “I Just want to know what hell I am…” She picked up a random book, frowning as she attempted to read the title. ‘The History of Merchant routes between Corone and Salvar: 3rd Edition’

Or, as Amari read it; ‘The History of something routes something Corone and Salvar: 3rd Something.” She placed it back on the shelf.

“This was a stupid idea.”

Amari wondered if she should have asked Madison to join her, or at least invest in the vine clad woman’s help. Amari quite liked Madison - even her appearance. Alas, even Amari knew that the rest of Salvar would not look upon the briarheart with such amicable feelings.

When the rumours came to the shores of Radasanth they immediately were carried by the ears of Lilies. Whispers upon the lips of undercover geniuses, wrapped around the fingers of the secret-keepers of Althanas, brought them with pride and with persuasion. They came to the Corone capital city, to the harbour where the houses of public rest were made available. And to these ones that were brothels run by great matrons rather than pimps, they fell into the enchantment and the bribery of the Gilded Lily. And in time - which was very short indeed -the rumours became messages and were taken on silver-winged pigeon-back to the fortress in the centre of Concordia forest, to the final ears of the Gilded Lily's matriarch herself, Philomel Van der Aart.

At least they would have been, were not for the fact she was in Radansanth itself, conducting her tours and inspection of the brothel, to ensure the females remained free, and felt no pressure from men with clubs, or with rudimentary boom-sticks.

Her mouth fell open at the sound of it.

"Ulroke has done what?"

Of course she knew the Crimson Hand had been established again. It had not taken Philomel long to hear of the words, 'The Hand is alive,' and firmly begin plans to defend herself. She was sure they would come for her, either in peace or in war, and make some sort of decleration. Her brief conversations with Shinsou vaan Osiris had set out the long-term goal - for them both to join the Hand - but that was some time away. And the whole recent business with Aurelianus Drak-Shal making her aware he was back with his setting up of a war between her brothels and local gangs ... Well. Her old life was certainly coming back to haunt the faun, the one-time assassin, and now matriarch of a whole band of brothels, with an army, a secret-keeping order, and so on.

And now they had struck again. Ulroke had taken in a young girl as his own, and broken her to the point that it was likely she was going to become his slave for eternity. Bound by chains of confused loyalty and who-knows what else. Ulroke, the man who had been Madison Freebird's puppet for all that time (admittedly Philomel liked Madison, one of the rare people she could stand), and was now seemingly back in control of his assassin empire, ready to strike back with one of his newest projects.

"Fucking hell," Philomel back-handed the messenger, a stout young man who was so un-spy looking he made the perfect spy.

There was rushed apologies as a couple of girls belonging to the brothel came forth to help him back ot his feet. But it didn't stop the anger of the faun.

"How could he?!" she roared.

There was no answer, just silence broken by more hushed apologies.

"Well?!"

Looking around with glaring eyes, the pupils with a dark intense fire behind, Philomel waited. But no answer came. No one could give it in this room.

She frowned, pursing her lips together. Then, clicking her hooves she twisted sharply and paused only to fling a heavy gold piece at the man.

"Take this as an apology. Ladies, give him a fine night also, free of charge. And tell your matron Delilah that I am leaving here to go straight to Salvar. If anyone asks, that is where I will be."

There were just words, no faun, in the room, as the last few syllables came out. Her thuds of moving anger carried her away, down the stairs already, into the distance. Likely straight to her ship where she would embark and ... well. Disappear.

The ladies left looked at each other, and awkwardly smiled. It was the first time they had met their matriarch, and now they understood why she was who she was.

----

Salvar

She tracked her down quickly and without much difficulty. Although the Gilded Lilys control did not (yet) extend this far north in the main continent, it was certainly easy to find someone in Knife's Edge if you were familiar with the city. And Philomel knew it well. All her years before she had become a matriarch in her own right were spent here, wandering the streets and learning the ways of a Crimson Hand assassin. SHe knew just who to ask, just where to persuade, and hence she was sent to the right library on the right street.

She was alone, but that was best for this time. For these sort of missions where she could seek herself. Pursing her lips she pushed open the door and simply nodded to the burly book-keeper before pushing her way in.

The description was firmly in her mind. Late twenties female, unmistakable dark crimson hair. Dark green eyes, with a ring around the iris. So unique, so lovely. Easy to find.

Books were her friend here, shelves would provide a cover for the conversation. She went past many declarations and treatises, following the path that she made in her mind, concentrating on her earth-sense to tell her where the living bodies were. Round the corner and - she found her.

She stopped. And grinned. She leant against a bookshelf, her front to the girl's back.

"Well hello there," she said.

Amari had her hand on another book, “Rubbletowns Rat Problem: An In Depth Look at the mating and habitual patterns throughout the years.” She tilted it down ready to pull it out but paused at the sound of another.

Amari had faintly noticed the woman’s presence earlier as she not so sneakily clopped through the aisles with her hooven feet, but the woman chose to pay the other no mind. Why would she?

“Yes?” Amari asked, grabbing the book. Unaware of its dreadfully boring contents. She turned to face the other woman. Tri-coloured eyes of brilliant green, broken by shards of crimson and gold glanced over the woman more slowly this time.

Philomel was looking for a lady with red hair and bi-coloured eyes; but Amari differed from her initial description. Her eyes now broken with crimson, and her once pristine milky skin showing cracks, as though she were a china doll about to break.

The stranger wasn’t human; Amari was familiar with the look of the race, but not it’s name. Her hair, a vibrant violent hung long and low in a plait that tickled her nearly exposed hip-bones. The woman had two curling horns protruded from the side of her head, dangerously pointed.Her skin, barely covered mind you, was healthy and sun-kissed.


Guess the lady ain’t from Salvar then. Amari thought to herself.

Amari’s eyes paused at her navel. She appeared to have some sort of tattoo, but it was difficult to make out. Then, there was her most obvious feature...chestnut brown fur and cloven hooves.

Amari’s eyes travelled back up to her face. The woman didn’t seem hostile. Nor did she evoke any sort of fear from Amari. Not that anyone did, really. With the exception of Aurelianus.

If anything; the woman extruded an odd sense of familiarity. Despite Amari never meeting her, or anyone like her before. It was difficult to explain, it was almost like her aura, or her mana...energy...whatever the heck it was called - was similar in fashion to Amari's, or more so. To the forest.

Yes. That's what this woman reminded Amari of. A forest.

This only piqued Amari's curiosity.

Amari tilted her head slightly to the side, unaware of the long minutes of silence that had dragged on between the two. Finally, she spoke, curt and short.

“Did you need something from me?” Amari asked, straight to the point.

Three miles away

A roar echoed across the icy cavern he had chosen for his solitude. Golden eyes, sharp and bright aghast the cold whites and blues of the Salvarian winterscape, instinctively scanned the glistening icicles and sparking rocks that stretched for an eternity around him for any signs of movement.

Osiris knew what manner of beast the roar belonged to. They were phantasms, spiritual beings that manifest after answering the summons of a Telgradian sword spirit; specifically Shira, Shinsou's sword. They were looking for him, and now they had found him.

The first of their number loomed from within a frigid white mist, the cold, illuminating flare of its blue eyes burning in their eye sockets. The Telgradian figured Shira had tapped into his memory to summon such a warrior, as this one resembled a Jal Shey skirmisher. It crept malevolently through the fog and towards its opponent, an enchanted sword billowing glowing blue flames as it enticed the young Osiris towards his doom.

Shinsou Vaan Osiris needed only a moment.

Shira Kurohitsugi.

He called upon his blade to grant him strength, and moments later an arsenal of icy spears slunk through a cold void behind him, shimmering with power. Osiris's gaze followed the trail of the creature before he suddenly commanded the salvo forward ferociously with the flick of his wrist. The sickening crunch of dehlar strength ice smashing through bone and sinew rattled about the cave and the phantasm's agonised cries shook the even the icicles above them.

Now nothing more than a frost ravaged heap of torn flesh, the beast's eyes flickered and faded. Its ethereal corpse suddenly immolated itself in odd firefly like wisps of silver as Shinsou exhaled a stream of steam into the Salvarian air and blinked.

Is this the best you can do, Shira?

The remains of the beast disintegrated and vanished into the artic maw.

Don't be ridiculous, Shinsou. We haven't even started yet. Do you want to wield me? If you truly want that power, you'll have to beg me. I am not Enpera, and I do not lend my strength so freely as it did. It is your task to subjugate me. Only then will I yield to you.

The icemold sword Shira, or rather the spirit of the same name that inhabited the blade and from which Shinsou drew his power, replied from somewhere inside his mind. Telecommunication between sword and master was something the Telgradian still had to get used to. Shira had been Shinsou's only companion on the exploration of Salvar, their fight against the slavers and the encounter with the enigmatic Amari. It had only become sentient in the last week, which, according to Telgradian lore, meant that Shinsou had formed a pact with the sword and now had to work to earn its respect.

"Let me appear before you."

Shira ‘spoke’ as a low rumbling began to roll across the icy hideout. Sudden pillars of blue light parted the shadows of the cave and a figure manifested from the core of the sword.

“Shira?” Shinsou queried in amazement. It was the first time he had seen Shira in the flesh.

"Yes. Prepare yourself, because this is going to get considerably more difficult for you."

The woman's voice flowed like silk, seeping into his mind and every pore, every opening, every fragile piece of his being. It was then Osiris's senses, previously caught up in Shira's training, felt something from outside the cavern he had sealed himself in. A tingling within his gut signified the presence of a familiar power.

"Philomel" The Telgradian smiled. It had been too long since they had last met, the object of his ever insatiable curiosity choosing to keep herself busy with matters of the Guilded Lily. He resolved to visit her after his work here was done. "I wonder what she is doing in Salvar? And...no, wait. What's this? Can't be...!"

His muscles felt disconnected from his mind as another sweeping sensation slid across his gut. It was heavy, cumbersome and unpleasant, but it shouldn't have been.

"Amari?"

He knew it couldn't have been anyone else; the feeling was too distinct. But something wasn't right. Darkness swelled at the fulcrum of her soul.

“Amari?” He repeated, awestruck.

"You lack discipline, Shinsou! Focus, unless you want to die!"

Without waiting for the Telgradian's words to fade, Shira manifested two more phantasms. They danced around Osiris, each equipped with a blade intricately inscribed with glowing glyphs.

Shinsou frowned at the interruption, saying nothing but turning to face his training partners. Only when he was close enough to see the very specks of fire in their eyes did the Telgradian force his hand. Pure adrenaline overpowered him as he lurched forward, removing his right glove as he dove. Osiris instinctively ducked the first slash from the left and evaded a downwards cleave from the right by leaping backwards half a step. The manoeuvre bought him the precious few seconds needed to reach the arm of the first phantasm.

Shatter.

A hundred small patches of white ice burst up the fur lined arm of the ethereal beast from where Shinsou had touched it. Dazzlingly bright and beautiful, they lingered for only a moment before spreading and bursting forth jagged spikes of ice that obliterated half of the creature's body in an instant, ending its short life. The second phantasm jolted forwards clumsily, but met a similar fate as Shinsou's palm grasped its face and impaled it sickeningly with a large spear of glistening ice.

"Good," Shira remarked as the two phantasms vacated the cave, dissolving into the air. "...but you're still distracted. Whatever it is that is concerning you, attend to it. That's enough for today. Deal with whatever business you must in order to clear your mind."

Even before the second attack had died down Shinsou had made up his mind. Retrieving Shira's blade with a flick of his wrist, his body held low and muscles tensing with the effort, he wrapped himself in his cloak and made his way out of the frozen proving grounds.

“Why is Philomel with her, and why do I sense such a disjointed and burning energy from Amari?” Shinsou's monologue begged for answers, but there were none to spare. The last things he saw as he slipped into the blissful snowscape of Salvar's path to Knife's Edge were the white-topped mountains that beckoned to travellers under a cold, crescent moon.

A soft breeze fluttered into the room.

It was fairly dark, being far back into the library itself, with few windows and only dim lighting from a couple of uniquely flickering candles. So unique that they seemed to be harmoniously bouncing back and forth rhythms to each other, beating a tune that only they could decipher, for naught but a fire-spirit could know how to listen to them. Which was the bass and which was the suprano, only the gods understood. But then, maybe it was just a song to the gods.

The breeze came through some uninteresting window or door, and swept up behind Philomel. Causing her loose hairs around her head to wave merrily, she was caught off guard for a moment, as she looked at the girl.

The girl with the description that had been false. Her eyes were not green laced with a ring of gold. They were miracles. Scarlet-speckled, crimson-created, garnet-glorified miracles.

Breathing in sharp she let her eyes wander over the strange beauty that stood before her. Achingly paling skin, touched by the darkness and cold that lay in Salvar, was lined at the edges with hairline cracks. Like a china vase that had smashed, then painstakingly reassembled using every last dust particle and piece, the lines looked harmless and only really noticeable in this light when one drew close.

"You are Amari Ciel L'Olfsden, yes?" she asked with a voice verging on delight.

Her tail twiched, her tapered ears flickered. In the shadows her heart's companion finally started to emerge - the fox-form earth-spirit Veridian - his eyes glinting just as entranced as her.

It is her, it must be, he spoke directly into the mind of his beloved, so only she could hear, She is the one we are looking for, and just by the appearance, it is clear she will be a strong ally. He paused, coming to stand by Philomel's hooves, his eyes gazing upwards to Amari with the same intense fashion as she.

We must make her ours.

And if she resists? Philomel asked, hand clasping around the hilt of her sword.

If Amari did resist, if she did choose to fight, at least the two of them, the fox and the faun, were well equiped to defend themselves. With an arrary of weaponry strapped to her waist, including a fiery knife that would always come back when called, and a half-breastplate of dragon-skin, Philomel was by no means vulnerable. Added to this she had her horns and Veridian had his bite. They could win, even without Drys' gift of magic coming into this equation.

Well you can use your charm, Veridian answered, lips snaking up so his mouth formed a strange smile. I know how good you are with that.

The two stood just metres apart. Eyes soaking up every intricate detail of the other. A symphony of silence enthralling both women. It was the faun who broke the silence with an elated smile in her sing-song voice.

Amari almost dropped the book at the mention of her name. Her old name. Her dead name. Not only that, but it was uttered with such unabashed delight. For a moment, Amari was worried the other woman was going to step forward and embrace her. Amari’s eyes narrowed as she lowered her face. Her lips twisted into a thin line. She was not impressed.

“Only two living people should know that name.” Amari said in a low, calculating tone. “My Master.” She paused, noting that the other woman had her hand on the hilt of her blade. “And another, from my past - whom seeks my head.” She said, speaking of Shinsou. Still under the belief that he wanted her dead. Her demeanor rigid.


“I doubt you align yourself with my Master.” Amari muttered. “Else you’d know my name is Red ” she placed a strong emphasis on the word. “So I assume you’re with him.” Amari turned and placed the book back on the shelf. “Which means you want my head. Alas - stranger. I can’t have you do that.” Amari took off her leather gloves. “I’m not a fighter, but - I quite like my head where it is. So don’t expect me to be an easy mark, oh…” Amari paused. Turning to face the strange woman and the even stranger creature.

A fox..or what seemed to be a fox had its small form wrapped around Phi’s shoulders. Amari wasn’t sure what it was. A mix of surprise and concern etched across her delicate features. It grinned at her. As though it were chuckling. Amari tore her eyes away from the creature, clearing her throat.

“But before we get carried away with our unpleasantries, let me introduce myself.” She held her hand out to Philomel. “I’m Red.”

Philomel seemed to loosen the grip of her blade. She glanced at Amari’s hand with suspicion. Hesitation. She was wise to do so. Still, she reached out to clasp it with her free hand.

bingo

Amari’s hand clasped over hers, and for a brief second...there was nothing but the warmth of silken skin clenched tightly in silken skin. Then. There was a tickle, a burning sensation erupted upon the faun’s hands. Amari’s hand emitted a faint, angry red glow. Anari didn’t intend to hurt the woman, not excessively, and she told herself she’d heal her right up if she were no threat. But Amari wanted to send a message. She may have no weapons, but she was not to be messed with.

Her arm twitched as the burning sensation intensified. The faun’s skin began to blister and burn; forming into a 2nd degree burn. By the twitching of Amari’s own hand, tt was clear Amari also felt the pain. However, her skin remained blister free.

“Now. who are you?”

Holy crap, was her first reaction.

Then she voiced her response.

"Fucking Drys snaken!" Her gasp resounded the same emotions as she pulled her hand sharply back. Like-minded, and able to feel not so much the pain, but the actual horror and hatred and disgust of the burn through their mental connection, Veridian hissed sharply. Pulling back his top lip, so the fleshy pink of his gums and the sharp canines capable of ripping spines from backs, he snarled viciously.

Philomel's eyes quickly dropped down to her hand as the girl stood there, smirking with the sound of her voice and demanded to know who they were.

Along the upper palm was a series of fierce red blemishes, tinged in some parts by albino white. The breakout continued down the thenar section, where the majority of Amari's fingers had lain briefly, and were now brightly becoming scarlet. Raised skin spoke of blistering, and the rapid acceleration of dying epidermis. Lowering her hand, and allowing the agony to continue briefly whilst she addressed the more prominent problem, the faun glared harshly.

It was not as if she had not experienced pain before.

"That was not necessary," she retorted to the asker, without answering the question proposed. "Not entirely necessary. Your name is Amari, and that is what I know you as, and that is what you shall be. That is until I decide otherwise, less I actually allow Veridian here to rip your throat out."

At the mention of his name the fox-form spirit thudded to the floor space between the two female warriors. Sharply and savagely he continued his growl as Philomel took the couple of steps back to allow herself room to bend down and shove her hand straight onto the top of a row of books - where dust had particularly gathered and allowed her to thickly jam her wound alongside it. Her eyes remained on Amari, however and she just narrowed her eyes.

"And as to add to that note, I do not align myself with you 'master,' instead he has learnt to respect me as you will do also. I am not with him, I have no association with him, other than that of the past, and Drys above bitch, that was not necessary!"

She's not going to be ours now, Veridian muttered back to her, Not with you swearing at her like that.

Philomel ignored him and just continued to glare at the red-head. "My name is Philomel van der Aart, and you should have heard of me. If not, then the Crimson Hand is really still the shambles it was when I left."

Amari crossed her arms over her chest and shifted her weight to one side. Jutting out a hip. Watching calmly as the other woman sharply drew her hand away and swore. A low rumble of a growl momentarily bought Amari’s attention downward to the fox-like creature. “Tch.” Amari wasn’t worried. The damn thing could jump up and rip out her jugular for all she cared. At least that way the two would leave her the damn hell alone. One of the Ravens would just come and revive her.

“It was.” Amari said. “It was very necessary. You come in here. Say a dead name, your hand on a weapon. What I can only assume is a familiar at your side. I coulda snapped your bones, rotted your flesh. Course that’s too extreme. I just wanted to issue a warning.” Amari paused as the stranger jammed her hand atop a pile of books. The action was so out of the ordinary it jarred Amari’s attention.

“The hell are you-” She shook her head. Now was not the time to question such an action. Amari cleared her throat, continuing. “From my position, you’re coming at me aggressively. I have every damn right to show that I am not a fuckin’ pushover. And I ain’t fuckin’ Amari. That dumb ass naive woman died. I’m Red .” She put emphasis on the name again. “Call me anything else, and I’ll outright ignore you.”

Amari’s eyes darted back to the strangers burnt hand, and how it was now in an inch thick pile of dust. Her brows furrowed. That’s a sure fire way to get something infected.

“Here.” Amari said exasperated as she stepped forward and grabbed the faun woman’s arm, guiding her hand away from the books. The fox at her feet gave an audible growl, a warning. “Oh shut it.” Amari spat at the fox.

“I ain’t gonna watch some dumb idiot get an infected wound. I think I made myself clear, so I suppose ya don't need to keep the burn.” She clasped her hand over the wound. The faun gave an audible gasp and went to jerk her hand away, but Amari gripped tighter. “Do you really think I’m going to injure an already burnt hand?” She snapped.

A new light bubbled up from her touch, this time a soft amber glow. It leaked into the burns and seeped deep below the skin tissue. It healed the burn and blisters and sent tingling sensations of warmth up the other woman’s arm. Unlike the angry red glow, this one had healed her. Not only that, but it wasn’t forced. It felt natural to Amari. If the faun were perceptive enough, she’d feel a calming sensation from the glow. As though it were coaxing her into blissful contentment.

The feeling, as relaxing as it was didn't last. Amari’s arm twitched and she let go. She started to rub her palm. “Fuck me…” She muttered under her breath. Still feeling the pain of the wounds she healed.

The woman, now healed began to speak again. This time about who she was, and her apparent association with the Crimson Hand.

So she does know my Master. I should probably mention this woman to him.

Amari had half a mind to slap a burn right onto the faun’s cheek. She disapproved of the self-absorbed attitude, Philomel was too high and mighty for Amari’s liking. Amari knew Lichensith didn’t respect her. He only had respect for one man, and that was Aurelianus.

Who the hell does this bitch think she is? Amari thought bitterly, returning the woman’s glare with one of her own. She refrained from the violent action, despite her urges. Amari took a deep breath and exhaled sharply through her teeth. If she did that, she’d be more of a child than her Master. And if she were to injure the faun again, what would have been the point of Amari healing her hand in the first place?

“Awfully full of yourself, don’t you think?” Amari muttered, rolling her eyes. “Haven’t heard of ya, and don’t really care to. Now, if you don’t mind - I am rather busy right now.” Amari glanced over at the seemingly endless rows of books. “So unless ya got something important to say, you can fuck right off, Philomel Van Der Aart.”

Amari turned to pull out yet another book from the shelf. In the process knocking one down. The old, yellowed book fell to the floor and opened up to a random page. It was gratuitous luck. The page that lay open was an illustration of a few people. One of which looked exactly like Amari. Even in black and white etchings, it was clear it was the very same woman. The book itself was uninteresting; it detailed the foundations of a small town that no longer existed. What was interesting was the fact that Amari was in it.

It was a clue, and it was exactly what she was looking for. Too bad she hadn’t seen it. Instead, she had her tri-coloured eyes squarely on another history book, reading something about trade routes.

It was cold. Far too cold, even for a sailor's liking. Especially one used to wearing naught but his bare chest, fearing not even the angry sea tempest.

Rameses Vaeron sucked on his tongue and clicked it a couple of harsh times behind his teeth. Arms folded against his chest he leant, rather non-chalantly, against the doorpost of the library. He only presumed that it was also a bookshop for the attemptingly sly movements of money he had so far caught the bulky receptionist making through the ajar door. Whether these book transactions were legal or not didn't deny the idea in his mind that it was a shop, for any exchange of money for goods was a sale. Be it drugs or flour.

He wore a knotted brown scarf around his neck, made apparently belovedly by one of the higher ranking ladies of Philomel's court. He liked to call them the "Gilded Girls" instead of the standard "Lilies," for they were quite high-strung and had each an air of power around them, as if shimmering with gold. This particular woman, Eshia by name, had made it for him before she had realised his sexual orientation and the reason behind why he had never flirted with any of the women so far. Then she had become down-hearted and much rushed explanation had had to be made.

"Feck, dammit," Vaeron muttered as he remembered her expression. But still, the scarf was kept and by the many hells it was useful to battle the bitter wind that was picking up around Knife's Edge this wary afternoon. As a current blasted against his exposed cheek he lifted the scarf side up and buried his face even more it its woollen contents, wishing that Philomel would be quicker.

They had come here by the good ship The Feisty Fox, then left it hidden in the Salvarian northlands with a skeleton crew, to travel down the three miles or two down here. It was just him, her and the wee foxy master Veridian (one might count the likely presence of the earth-dragon Delath, forever moving around in the ground beneath Philomel, but for this sort of adventure he was not within the sailor / mage's calculations). They were a merry company, albeit the lack of merriment on his part for cold was the enemy. Philomel had gained the news of the presence of Lichensith Ulroke's little new protoge and had decided to interfere.

Just like her. Besides, as she had said, 'A trip to see the Crimson Hand was overdue.'

"Crimson Hand, my arse," muttered Vaeron. He didn't care about an apparent old assassin order that was re-awakening, all he cared about was his last single friend in the universe, and that was Philomel, whom he dubbed 'Princess.' So despite his grumblings he still came with her, but only to protect her.

Hence standing here. In the cold.

He looked up and down the street, empty for the most part, and let his eyes wander past the shadowy forms - until one became uncomfortably clearer. And closer. And as he watched, the figure approached. It was a figure roughly the same size and build as himself, though walking with more of an authority. Blades pointedly hung at sides, not hidden for shape, and altogether uncomfortably giving off an uneasy feeling, as it slid out from the thin mist that caught the blustery world in its hold.

As the figure came further, the feeling was given a reason. And Vaeron's eyes grew as he began to understand why this shape was so interesting to him. He muttered in awe under his breath as he stepped away from the doorpost, all previous intrigue into the library-keeper's life gone, and now passionately focused on the man coming forth as recognition came. Recognition of a fight. Recognition of nights at bars. Recognition of silent looks, and agreed attentions and mutual respect for a certain faun.

"What on earth are you doing here?" Vaeron asked in a rushed voice as he took a step forwards and Shinsou vaan Osiris entered the story. His heart beat, his hands froze and his confusion reigned. This certainly had made the day a lot more interesting.

Several feelings came to her at the one breath.

The first was a certain respect for this woman. Girl. Lady. She was clearly someone of at least well-bred attitude, the type that Philomel hungered for. SHe had the air of someone who would never say yes unless they absolutely needed to, someone who would push off a rapist even if he or she was stronger and then stab them in the throat for good measure. This was the sort of person Philomel sought, daily, to join her elitest group of women, and suddenly she felt she wanted her even more.

The second emotion that came was admiration. Not so much for the fact that Amari - Red - healed her hand, but for the utter issue that she was undoing what she had just done. Addressing the clear mistake, and in some way, though it might have been unintentional, earning a trickle of trust from both faun and fox.

The last emotion was utter, respulsive shock and horror. To not have heard her name. To have Ulroke as her very master and to never have heard the murmur of the legendary faun who led women out of their terrible lives and into light. To not know the power that resided within Philomel, and - most heinous of all - in this case, Red would have not even heard a whisper of the only goddess who matters. Drys herself. The almighty. The creator of all that is faun and tree. The bestower of Philomel's great power.

She was caught in these emotions, these concerns that filled the air around her as Red avoided Veridian, dismissing him if he was only a beast. Philomel began to slowly loosen her lips as the woman walked off. Knowing she was well protected here (for any warning of incoming danger would be halted at least for a short while by Vaeron at the doorway) she inhaled slowly and rolled back her shoulders, preparing for the onslaught of the words.

As Red turned away from her.

As the back of the find crimson curls were revealed, lucious and delicate and resounding at the same time.

As silence fell, ready to be broken again.

"If you haven't heard of me then your 'master' made a mistake. And do not dismiss Veridian like he is some animal. We could take you in a heartbeat. We are-"

Then her words were cut off as the sound - thwump - came. And the leather-bound book fell to the floor. Open on those exact pages. The image of the hand-etched girl, so unmistakeably perfect in similarlity to the woman who stood before her stared up at Philomel and she suddenly knew that this meeting had not ended.

She drew in her breath as she leaned down, bending at fluffy backwards knee and took the book delicately in her tanned-back hands. Her grey eyes wandered over the picture as she rose again, and her mighty sword clanged against the various other knives she had with her. Her breasts rose and fell beneath her corseted half chest-guard.

Eyes flicked between the image, then the words beside, describing a festive scene and a woman called 'Amari,' and then up to the figure of the long-lived glory herself, and a slow smile came to Philomel's face. Her chin rose up, her erstwhile and loyal beloved fox peeked up, knowing the exact thoughts running through her head and both grinned.

"You're not a human, are you?" Philomel quietly said.

"Take me in a heartbeat?" Amari repeated, her head still buried in the book. She scoffed."Go ahead. Strike me down. Kill me. What would that achieve exactly? Would it really make you feel better in the long run?" Amari asked. Glancing briefly up at Philomel. "Get...Veriden, was it? To rip out my throat. All that will achieve is a bloodied Library, and another death upon your hands." Amari shut the book with a snap.

"Thing is, Philomel..." She mused. Amari didn't know Philomel, but she didn't seem like the type to just let loose and sink her blade into something. The woman had an air about her that Amari couldn't describe. Philomel felt familiar, as though the energy that radiated from her was something Amari had known for a long time. Yet, this faun, this creature was a complete stranger. "I think you're better than that. Smarter than that. For all the talk - you're just as frustrated as I am. So, to save us both our blood. Let's end this pissing contest, we aren't brutes."

Amari turned her attention to the bookshelf. Half hoping her words had eased the tension between the two; and half hoping that Philomel would wander off to bother some other patron.

"You're not a human, are you?"

Amari's hand stilled. Resting on the back of yet another book in her fruitless search. The question caught her off guard. Amari was expecting more heated words. A retaliation, a sword to her side, a slap to her face. Anger. What she was not expecting was the whispered question from the faun.

"I don't know." Amari admitted. Equally as quiet. Her eyes fell. She hated it. She hated feeling so powerless, not knowing exactly what she was. She knew that her soul wasn't human, but as to what it was. She hadn't had a clue. She didn't know where to start. Madison was aiding her in this seemingly fruitless search - but Amari wanted to take things in her own hands. "I am human. Physically." She stressed the word as she glanced back up at Philomel, who was holding a book tightly in her hands. "Why do you ask?" She snapped. Amari instantly regretted the tone she used, seeing the faun's ears press back against her head. Her grey eyes focused on Amari.

Amari sighed. "Sorry." She muttered, glancing away. "Look. Philomel it's been..." She paused. Unsure of how to put their exchange. "Different... but I am a busy woman. Again. If you don't have any real business with me. I ask you to leave me be." She said, this time with less venom. Her tone exasperated. She was done with the bitterness. She had no real qualm with the woman. Despite her stubborn and self righteous attitude.

If anything, under different circumstances - Amari suspected that her and the odd faun-like woman may have been...not entirely friends, but far more amicable toward each other.

The man Shinsou recognised as Vaeron stood alone by the library entrance, arms curled up as he leant against the timber doorframe. His question preceded a glance of stout curiosity regarding the Telgradian’s sudden appearance here. It wasn’t just that, though, that puzzled the man. Vaeron could feel the cold seeping into his bones from the draft through his clothes and the frosty wood nestling in his back, which caused him to shiver a little, but the enigmatic Osiris seemed to suffer no such ill effects from the harsh Salvarian climate.

“It’s been a while, Vaeron,” Shinsou replied, acknowledging his mutual acquaintance with a light nod. “It seems our paths often cross at the strangest of times. I know I can trust you, but to tell you why I’m here might require a little bit of explanation.”

The Telgradian, broad as he was tall, had an odd frost tint to his usually golden eyes. There was a calmness within him that wasn’t present in their previous meetings. They stood alone in the cold, and Vaeron listened, and he learned. He listened to Shinsou discussing why he was in Salvar, of how his hunting of slavers had led to his meeting with Amari. He learned of how the redhead’s soul was something not of this world, and that she was supposed to be in the care of the Brotherhood encampment in the northern wastes. He pondered the underlying tension in Osiris’s voice as the man explained what he had sensed in the cave, and wondered what caused them to harbour the concern he did.

“To be frank,” Shinsou explained, putting the finishing touches to his tale, “I’d be ready for anything. There is a great deal of darkness swelling inside her; a fractured feeling that wasn’t present the last time we met. The reason I’m telling you all this is because I have no idea what Amari is capable of. The girl I met was damaged; barely alive and broken, but there weren’t any negative energies like there are now. There’s no telling what has happened for her to not be in the Brotherhood’s care anymore.”

He watched as Vaeron’s eyes pierced through him as though he never existed. Osiris knew the man was already thinking about enforcing Philomel’s safety as his eyes fixated in smouldering anger upon the door of the library.

“Vaeron, we must be careful. There is no guarantee that Amari is hostile. Philomel can handle herself. If we go in there and take an aggressive approach, we could be doing more harm than good. Besides,” Shinsou cautioned, “I’m just here to investigate.”

After a moment of consideration, and wondering whether or not his loyalty to Philomel outweighed the opinions of a mere acquaintance, Vaeron nodded to signify he understood. Shinsou supposed he admired the archer’s loyalty to the faun and the Gilded Lily, and even the respect he had showed the Telgradian. Truly, Philomel had chosen her guardians wisely.

“You do your mistress a great service, friend. Let’s see just what in the blue hell this is all about. ”

Shinsou had fought the undead in the toxic red forests of Lindqualme, had partaken in the conflicts of deities on the desolate island of Lornius and hunted slavers through the unforgiving tundra of Salvar, but nothing made him quite as nervous as this situation and what it spelt for Philomel and Amari, as well as what might have happened to the Brotherhood contingent who had been looking after her. As his hand rested on the door, Shinsou questioned whether he had made the right decision to place Amari with his men. Even as doubts zipped around his mind, the Telgradian reasoned he could still hold on to that integrity. He had done everything a man could reasonably have been expected to.

Hadn’t I?

He felt the tension crest as he opened the door, Vaeron in tow, and entered.

Certainly there was no way she was just going to leave.

Philomel had found something interesting, and she wanted it. Veridian could just feel the passion fueling her, beating through her system, making her heart soar and her non-existant wings flutter. Eyes animatedly widened, fixating on the red-haired girl ... no beauty that was angling her way down the aisles, ignoring the fact that the faun had proclaimed something and been found right.

The plain truth was within this book, the one Red had barely glanced at and had dismissed as if it had no matter in the grand scheme of things. Or perhaps she had never seen the actual pages, merely glanced and registered the fact the faun was holding such a device, and not taking in the illustration that was indeed slightly angled away from her.

This was the version of events that Philomel liked the most, and thus she accepted them as truth and neared the girl again. The book she closed mostly, swapping it to a single hand and inserting her forefinger to hold open the page. Thumb and remaining fingers held the tome steadily as she opened her mouth to engage fully in conversation, listening to the words, the change in tone, the (dare she accept or mention it) apology. Intake of breath was summoned, eyes blinked to begin the first phonem, but then -

Movement. Footsteps.

Her eyes glanced to the right and her breath caught in her throat. Lodged there, like an uncomfortable cough, wriggling its way into personal insanity.

The first reaction of hers was to tell him off. For the furst figure she was, striding up the corridor, albeit uncertainly, was Vaeron, the very man she had been sure to tell to wait outside. Having come only with him was a risk, but a risk worth taking. Vaeron after all was her closest ally in the war against all foes, the one who stayed close by her and actually had enough respect for herself and himself to want to be near her, to serve her, yet also had his own point of view that he was not afraid to ever communicate.

But her first reaction was quickly overtaken by another. For he was not alone. For a second man - the second man in Philomel's life was currently walking up behind her compadre and had eyes of brilliance gazing at her. At them. At both her and Amari, the red girl.

A man Philomel knew very well and who should certainly not be here. Definitely not in the plans.

Not in the grand scheme of this endevour.

She stared back and shouted, incredulous.

"Shin?" she asked, "What in Drys' name are you doing here?"

"You're not leaving are you?" Amari said, defeated as Philomel simply looked upon her with more interest. "If you insist. Let's just get a cup of tea somewhere. I don't think what I am loking for is he...r...e..." she trailed off, hearing Philomel mention a name Amari had burried deep within herself long ago.

"S-shin...? Shinsou?" Amari asked. She took a step back, seeing him here...It had been almost two years since she last saw him. Since she gripped his hands tightly with promises of admitting everything to him. That was before though...her brows furrowed and she glanced from Philomel to Shinsou, then to the other man.

"So this was a trap..." She muttered bitterly, feeling foolish for allowing her guard to fall in front of Philomel. "You're all together, hah..." She rose her hand to her forehead, shaking it in disbelief. Her voice cracked as she struggled to cope with the various emotions that bubbled up to the surface. Heartache, betrayal, loss..."So you've finally come to kill me then Shinsou?" Amari asked.

"What? Amari...no..." Shinsou pushed past both Vaeron and Philomel, reaching out to grasp her wrist. Amari froze at the action. Her body tensing. "What makes you think I'd want to...kill you?" His own voice sounded just as pained.

"What?" Amari tried to jerk away, but he tightened his grip. Adamant that he'd get his answers. "How about I show you?" Amari turned to face Shinsou. Placing her hands on either side of his head, her thumbs resting on his temples.

"Drys-shit!" She faintly heard Philomel swear; but the following moments faded away as she forced Shinsou Van Osiris to relive her memories, as though he were experiencing them in her body. He'd feel everything she felt, he'd see everything she saw..

-------------------------------------

I gripped Shinsou's hands tighter. He was leaving again, I didn't want him to go. I wanted him to stay. My heart ached and I wasn't entirely sure why. It was heavy with the knowledge that I wouldn't know when I'd see him again. I wanted to tell him. I wanted to tell him what I felt, ask whim why I felt what I felt. I wanted to tell him that I wanted to kiss him, and fall asleep to the steady sound of his heartbeat. Instead, I offered him a smile.

"I'll see you when you return."

"Same to you, Amari." He said with a smile, ruffling his hand though my hair. He boarded the ship, and it took every ounce of willpower I had not to collapse to my knees crying.

FLASH

David threw me against the bed with the entirety of his strength. I struggled to roll away, falling to the floor. "Please!" I cried out, tears spilling over my cheeks. "Leave me alone! Leave me alone and I won't tell anyone! Just go David...don't do this."

He laughed in my face and a feeling of dread hit the pit of my stomach as he loomed over me. His shirtless form glistening in the pale moonlight. Shinsou said I was safe here...I thought I was safe here. So why...what drove David to this? "Please..." I choked. "No can do, sweetheart." He leaned down and picked me up by my wrist. It hurt, but not as much as the sinking, defeated pain I felt in my chest. He pressed me up against the wall, and I felt his hand explore my body. I wrenched my head away..

"You're a virgin, right?" He asked me. I refused to answer. He chuckled darkly. "You'll learn to love this. I'll teach you all sorts of things." He loosened his grip on my wrist, distracted he started to unbuckle his pants. I jerked my hand away and gave him a hard push, he stumbled and fell. Right out the two storey window. He gave a startled scream and there was a sickening snap.

"D..Dave..." I was afraid to look. Afraid to see what I had done.


---------------

The exchange must have looked strange to onlookers, Amari stood with fingers pressed against his head. Shinsou's legs buckled and he fell to his knees. Tears dotted his eyes. "Amari..." he breathed, "Stop..." But she didn't.

-------------------


FLASH

Sampson shook his head. "Shinsou's going to have your head for this." Those words...I couldn't believe them. "Y...you lie." Sampson shook his head again. "You love him, right Amari?"

My breath caught in my throat, was that what I was feeling? My face must have given it away. I felt his hand rest on my shoulder, I instantly recoiled. Last nights ordeal still fresh in my mind. "Amari, he doesn't love you. He's a bit of a notorious playboy. I've seen how you two act. You pull away from any sort of physical interaction. He's grown bored of you. With the death of David - he'll have to execute you."

I curled myself into a ball. Silent sobs wracked my body. I didn't want to believe it, but Sampson had always been there for me. He had never lied, not once.

"W-what do I do...Sampson..."

"Leave. I'll ensure you have supplies and clothing. Go to Knife's Edge. Create a new life for yourself." He offered me an odd smile. "Go get your things."

Flash

I had written a letter. Or tried to. I told Shinsou I loved him. That I was sorry for everything, how afraid I was. How I just couldn't face death right now. I gave it to Sampson, who promised he would give it to Shinsou. I offered him a smile. "Thank you..." I hugged Sampson goodbye and made my way toward Knifes Edge in the cold, dead of night.

I had walked for some time, and paused to take out rations from the pack.

It dawned on me as I stared down at the pile of rocks in the pack.

Sampson had sent me to my death.

FLASH

My vision was blurry, I stared first at Aurelianus, who had torn off another section of my flesh with nothing but his bare hand. I writhed, making the bloodless flaying more painful. I shrieked, unable to process the sheer pain that wracked my bleeding body.

My eyes shifted to Lichensith Ulroke, who sat leaning over a chair covered in strips of my flesh. A small grin across his features.

I gave another scream; the deep throbbing burn of the lacerations in my leg; the nettling fire of being peeled one bit at a time. Even the cool air still managing to slither into the room despite the doors being closed... it was too much...



------

Shinsou had started screaming, feeling everything. Feeling his own flesh being peeled from his body. Feeling the heartache and pain, feeling his mind crack. Amari didn't stop. That was, until she was forced to. Shinsou gave a gasp of air as Amari's hands were wrenched from his forehead.

Vaeron's blade had found it's way to her side, blood seeped from the wound. Amari blinked, trying to place where she was. She too had been reliving the memories, and wasn't entirely with it. Before she could make heads or tails of the situation, she felt a sharp blow to the back of her head, and her world went dark.

Shinsou awoke to the sound of feet stepping all around him. Hazy murmurs and fragments of conversation drifted in the air, but his mind was too confused to make sense of it all. Groaning softly, he wiped a sore hand across his eyes, and blinked several times.

He was still in the library.

Rubbing his head, Osiris took the time to assess the situation in more detail: He was still in his clothes, but his skin itched like hell and his skull thumped with a resounding headache. He couldn't feel the familiar weight of Shira hidden in his coat, or his coat at all. In fact, upon further inspection, his greatcoat was on the other side of the room, crumpled in a pile. The only thing keeping him comfortable against the harsh Salvic cold was his endurance to ice. More to the point, he was surrounded by people; specifically, Vaeron, Philomel and an unconscious Amari, who looked as if she had been wounded. She seemed to be clinging to his coat as if her life depended on it, blood from her wound staining the white fabric.

“What the fuck happened?”

One by one, the memories started to piece themselves together. Amari, whom he had assumed was in the care of the Brotherhood as he had left her two years ago, had made some ridiculous accusation about him trying to kill her. Shinsou was completely baffled by this. Before he could muster up a single question, the redhead had settled, for a manic moment, on showing Shinsou her past forcibly. Then, he had seen it all; David, Samson, the letter…

Aurelianus and Lichensith…

He had heard those names before; names associated with the dreaded Crimson Hand. They were enemies of the Gilded Lily and the faun, Philomel. Now, it looked like they had made another enemy in Amari. As he got to his knees, with so many thoughts to pick apart and contend with, Shinsou could feel the corruption in her frothing. Was this the work of the Crimson Hand?
Was this what he was responsible for?

The thought occurred to him that if Amari had truly been tortured and corrupted this badly in two years, the Brotherhood, even he, was directly responsible for it. He had left her in their care. He had been the one that had abandoned her to the camp, no matter the reasoning at the time. All this was because of him. Yet, what more could the Telgradian have done? His father’s arrival at the camp had forced his hand. Shinsou had to lead the Council of Five away from Amari, or else risk putting her in grave danger. It was then he remembered Samson’s lies.

There will be fucking murders when I get back to Whitevale. I’ll have Storm shallow fry the bastard!

It was then that his thoughts, and eyes, wandered to Philomel and Vaeron. He grimaced as he shook his head.

“I have no idea what you are doing here, Phi, but things have gotten a little bit out of hand. She showed me everything. Right now, Amari is supposed to be in the care of the Brotherhood in the northern wastes,” Shinsou explained, “But it would appear that the men there betrayed us. That has led to the unfortunate situation we find ourselves in now. Amari found herself at the mercy of the Crimson Hand which, again I assume, has led to this."

Shinsou strained forward onto his knees, spitting a bit with every other word. "I've fought monsters, I've killed people and I have even felled empires, but never have I felt the corrosion I feel within her body at this moment.” The Telgradian finished with a slump, hanging his head and sputtering for air. It felt as if the will to live had been sucked right out of him, but then he locked eyes once more with the beautiful faun. He had forgotten how much he had missed her. It had been such a long time since they had last met. There they sat for a time, almost like they had so many things to say to each other that they couldn't find words for any of it. It was true in some ways.

"Philomel..." Shinsou asked, "...what do you know about two men called Aurelianus and Lichensith?"

Naturally, the first thing she had done was panic.

When a relative stranger that you yourself have been hunting down comes forth and presents herself as a threat, the first thing to do is be wary and on guard. Philomel, being Philomel, had acted with equal threat, and indeed, she had actually considered asking Delath up here to burst into the library and cause a raucous just because. But then there had been the book. And then Vaeron had come in. And then-

No relative stranger, no matter how interesting, is allowed to harm a friend of Philomel van der Aart, Matriarch of the Gilded Lily, mistress of the night. So when 'Red' had placed her hands forwards and basically caused him to go into severe heart palpations ... well.

She had acted. And nodded to Vaeron. A swift flash of the Kraken, his holy and blessed long dagger and Red had been distracted, and released Shinsou. A few more nano-seconds later and Philomel's own elbow had been plunged into the back of the neck - getting the plagus nerve that leads directly to the brain.

Then Shinsou was released. And then she had the chance to finally round him and get a fucking answer as to why the hell he was here and how the hell he knew that bitch -

Cut off. Thoughts, prepared words, feelings. All slammed into a wall as Philomel froze, two names slipping out from Shinsou's curved lips.

"What do you know about ..."

Pause and breathe.

"Aurelianus and Lichensith."

Those bastards.

At the mention of the names four things happened. Four creatures stirred and four noises were made. Veridian, still curled around Philomel's shoulders drew back his upper lip and let out a fierce, hateful hiss, claws extending to dig into the neck piece of Philomel's chest guard, and tail danergously twitching. Vaeron, still with indigo blade naked in the flickering library illumination, tutted in a dark way and narrowed his eyes over to where Amari now lay, unconcious by the faun's touch. Then there was the faun herself, fists suddenly clenched, confusion more than anything ablaze and passion stirring within her breast, as she began to let out a string of curses. Finally, there was the fourth of the party, a mighty, but low rumble, coming up from the bowels of the very foundations beneah them, a thunder of empathetic voice granted solely for the benefit of his lady mistress.

"What did she show you?" she suddenly demanded, knowing now, naturally, that this bitch had done some sort of mind-alerting spell over Shinsou with her fingers of glory on his temples. "What she say about them?"

Vaeron stepped forwards towards the girl, blade up and ready in case she was actually awake and might stir. He bent down and began to, without any orders or suggestion from anyone, grab a length of his robe and tear it into a long strip. Leaping from her shoulders Veridian saved his anger for now and jumped next to the mage to guard him less anything might happen as he prepared to bind this obviously dangerous new threat.

Philomel's attention, however, was on Shinsou and his recent ordeal. And his words.

"They are ... old friends of mine. Aurelianus is a demon, never to be underestimated, and Lichensith is a ... well a man, and he has power over this one. I tracked Amari here because she is his new toy, and I will have her as mine, as one of my girls and under my influence no matter what you plan to do or anything. I want her, and I need her as a weapon against him because our history ... our ... past ..." Her heart beat fast, her breathing was ragged. She was losing it. The book was slipping from under her arm. Her anger was getting the better of her and -

Breathe. Know. Be who you are.

Her teeth grated. And she felt Delath begin to come to the surface of the earth, though unbidden, but deperate to protect his mistress.

"What you need to be aware of is I was not always in power. I did not always have my own power, Shinsou vaan Osiris. I was once a pawn, like you were when you first came here, like we both are, in a way, for the Brotherhood. And the kings that ruled my life where Aurelianus Drak'Shal and Lichensith Ulroke. But things happened, things came to be, and I rose with my power. I was granted the ability, by Drys and by fate, to become who you know me as, Matriarch of a great army. And as their paths faded, mine became clear. They became lost with the murmurs and rumours of time so that I could shine like a bright star."

She paused. She raised her chin and stared directly into his eyes.

"They are the torturer and once proud master of the assassin's guild, and now they are planning to bring back the old court from the dead.

"They are my old allies but they have also been my enemies. They are not to be trusted."

Heartache is a funny thing, it has a way of sneaking up on us. Making us do drastic and often dangerous things. I acted irrationally, but how could I not? I saw him and everything else just...didn't exist. In those few moments I wanted nothing more than to wrap my arms around him and hear his heartbeat against mine. Then came my Masters warnings, then the realisation that the man I thought I had loved wanted me dead. He wanted to rip my head from my body and cast it upon a pike, and I don't think even my revival would aid me in such a predicament.

The group discussed shifting to a more private locale, an Inn above a pub Philomel suggested. A place she knew where it was safe from prying eyes and enemies of the Brotherhood and the Gilded Lily.

Vaeron scooped her up into his arms. Amari's eyes fluttered. She shifted and groaned. "Sh-Shinsou..." The name that left her lips was spoken as though she were rolling over to embrace him. Lilting with tones of forgotten love, desire, and heartfelt memories. Her head pressed into Vaeron's chest, and she clutched Shinsou's jacket tighter against her form. Refusing to let go, even in a state of unconsciousness.

A few hours had passed, before Amari finally stirred. She groaned as she lifted her head. The room was dark. Her memories were slowly recollecting themselves. "Where...am..." She had been in the library...then that strange goat lady had a conversation with her. Amari had begun to let her guard down, then....

Then....

Shinsou had appeared, it was an ambush. They all clearly knew each other.

"Shit..." Amari muttered, she could feel the wound at her side. They had attacked. Amari pulled, and realised she had been tightly bound by an oddly smooth, silken rope. The hushed voices in the room fell silent. Amari tilted her head, she was greeted with darkness. A blindfold. Amari took a few deep breaths, allowing herself to calm down.

"I'm surprised I still have my head." Amari muttered calmly. "I must hand it to you, Philomel - you almost had me fooled."

A little dizzy from the experience of Amari hijacking his mind, and still a bit tired from the effects of his extensive training in Salvar, Shinsou listened carefully as Philomel explained her own situation, her ponderings, and her history with Aurelianus and Ulroke. That the pair had not just caused havoc in Amari's life but also caused the faun a considerable amount of distress in hers did not sit well with the Telgradian. He was starting to build a picture of the types of people - if they even qualified as people - he would be dealing with. They were beneath him; the type of unquestionable evil that Osiris strove to wipe out, but they were also members of the feared Crimson Hand. Any action would provoke a reaction.

“The Crimson Hand is a sophisticated syndicate. Aurelianus and Ulroke will be well protected, and their guards won't be the same idiots that I’ve handled pretty easily elsewhere in Althanas. They'll be heavier hitting and loyal to a fault. For now, until I have a bit more intelligence about their operations, I'll have to cool it. Besides, we have another problem.”

He gestured to the form of Amari, who was bound and wounded in the corner. She looked almost resigned to her fate - as if she were expecting to die at any second. Or was she just calm and without fear? Shinsou couldn't tell - her soul was so muddled with different energies it was impossible to read the girl.

"Amari..."

The Telgradian scrambled to find the right words, cognizant of the cold atmosphere around the triumvate that drove urgency into the matter of why they were all there. The simple explanation was the truth, and the truth was about as believable as any lie. Shinsou eyed Amari's face for weaknesses but his keen vision couldn’t pick up enough from her stoic expression. She was unreadable.

“I'm not here to kill you, Amari. Listen to me. After Telos took me from the base in the northern wastes, I trained with him. I managed to evade the Council of Five thanks to him, but if I had gone back..." He kept his gaze fixed at the woman, "I don’t know what would have happened. They would have come there for me. They would have found you and you'd be dead. My father knew this; that's why he took me far away. ”

Everything came to him faster than he could communicate, and Osiris was wary about bombarding her with too much information.

“Let me simplify. I had to stay away to keep you alive. I finished my training a day ago and sensed something was wrong with you, so I came to investigate. I didn't know what Philomel and Vaeron are here for, but we go way back. She's an affiliate of the Brotherhood too. As for Samson..."

A frown crossed his face. Discretion always proved the better part of valor.

“He's a dead man when I get back. He's played you for a fool.”

It sounded crazy. The whole thing sounded ridiculous but it was as close to the truth as it could be.

“The only person who owns control of your situation is you. I don't know what's happened to you because you only showed me what happened at the camp. I need to know what the hell happened to you.”

The different possibilities bounced around his head as Shinsou considered what might have occured. Corrosion, corruption and darkness of this intensity was far beyond what he had sensed from any single entity on Althanas since his arrival. Yet, he sensed no evil. It was as if she had been tainted.

As the snow beat down about the building, Shinsou took a deep breath into his lungs and let the cool air calm him from the inside. The smooth buzz settled his muddled brain, relaxing the paranoia and crazed hypotheticals, and waited for some sort of explanation.

Her arms folded as she leaned back, considering Shinsou before her. As he spoke she felt slightly moved, the same way she had always done whenever their paths had crossed. That time in the battlefield, when he had just appeared. That other time when they had crossed swords in order to test her metal. Then those few conversations, at night, by the ships, walking down the harbour shoulder to shoulder, speaking of times gone by, about their past lives and who they were and who they wanted to be and ...

Gaze switched over to Vaeron. He was sitting on a bench with Amari's head on one leg, a hand cautiously still over his trusted indigo knife. Even though she was completely bound, and in a most gorgeous way too, there was still a possibility that her magic could get out of her. One touch of her hand on the sea-mage's flesh and disaster could be spelled out. In his blood.

Philomel grew restless at this idea and after Shinsou had finished his calm words with the Amari girl, the faun gave simple orders. Vaeron grunted and lifted up the girl's form to move away from her, leaving her to rest there by herself. Hands tied up behind her back, and from there the rope continued around her form at shoulders, torso (taking the arms into account too), thighs and legs with ankles bent around and up and ... like a neat little package. Just like some men like their girls delivered. Just like some girls liked to be delivered.

Coughing away her distraction, Philomel took up a stance of a straight back and addressed the girl herself.

"As I said I am Philomel van der Aart, and I am actually offended you have not heard of me. I was once the Master of Secrets in the Crimson Hand, and had a large stake in it alongside Aurelianus and Madison. When Ulroke was their slave," she sucked on her tongue a little, her lips curling into a sly smile. "That was the past. Before the fall of the Hand, before its current attempt to rise, I was there, alongside them. Then things fell apart and thus I had to strike out on my own. I am the Matriarch of the Gilded Lily, the greatest society that shall be known to the world."

She paused and looked over to Shinsou who smiled a little at her. Obviously he could not resist. "My history with you is since you met me as Matriarch of the Lilies. Before then ... well I was one of them. I was probably like her," she gestured at Amari, at 'Red,' "confused about myself, just a lowly assassin and spy, working my way through the world. But then the Crimson Hand. Well it fell apart. Some of them call me traitor - hell, there was even a war declared against me and my ladies by them at one point, Vaeron will attest to this ..." Leaning against the wall now Vaeron nodded formally, his inability to smile making him look morose.

"Well. That is that. Now they are back, apparently, and I came here seeking this young woman to see what exactly Ulroke was up to. I am here to save her. To save her from making the same mistakes I did. So the Crimson Hand is back on the rise - well I plan to show them how I have risen also," she breathed in tightly, and raised her chin. "I think declaring war is perhaps unnecessary, Shinsou, my dear, for there is not much to really fault them for except perhaps the torture of a few, and they did do good in the past ... but. But -"

She stopped him before he could say anything, "But, know this. My loyalities with them are extremely fragile now, and with good persuasion I will go with you."

Philomel prattled on about how she was offended Amari hadn't heard of her...again. Whatever small nuance of respect Amari had for the purple haired faun had disappeared and was replaced with sheer annoyance at how egotistically self absorbed she sounded. "You keep harpin' on about who you are - but frankly, I don't fuckin' give a damn who you are or what the Gilded Lily is. I don't give a fuckin' shit about your pissin' contest with my Master or what qualms you two had in the past." Amari tried to pull on the rope but it did little. The rope pressed tighter against her skin, forcing various curves and body parts to become more accentuated. The rounds of her milken breasts spilled out from over her shirt, and the parts of rope that were tightly against more..erogenous areas rubbed up against her. Amari huffed, her cheeks becoming slightly flushed at the mild sensations that erupted in the pit of her belly. "I don't need to be saved. I am willingly serving as Master Ulrokes right hand." Amari muttered, seemingly more subdued then she was mere minutes ago. She stopped pulling on the binds to alleviate the pressure on her skin. "Trapping me here to 'save me' won't do you, nor I any favours."


Amari was still blindfolded. Her world dark, but she had gotten a better grasp on where the two stood in the room. She shifted her head between Shinsou and Philomel. Shinsou sounded pained and concerned. His words erupted in rushed and hurried tones. If Amari didn't know any better she'd swear he was on the verge of crying. A part of her heart ached to hear him so unsettled. He'd always been so very composed. "I was a fool... " Amari whispered, lowering her head. Tendrils of crimson hair spilled over her nude shoulders and tickled her skin. "So you only came back because you thought there was something wrong with me?" Amari asked as she bit back a quivering lip. Why did the question hurt? Why was she afraid of the answer? Feelings she thought were long since dead began to resurface and Amari did not like it. "I loved you, but I was nothing more than eye candy to you, was I?" Amari laughed bitterly. It was easier to distance herself than to allow herself to feel anything.

"I'll tell you, Shinsou." Amari said in a low tone between deep breaths as she tried to get a handle on her short temper. "But first, I expect to be untied. Be damned if I am going to sit here and let you two..." she paused, "...Salivate over me being bound like some sort of peep show."

Today wasn’t going well at all and the Telgradian wasn’t sure it was going to get much better either on current form. Shinsou couldn’t tell whether or not untying Amari would have the desired effect. He exchanged cursory glances with Philomel, who simply shrugged. Vaeron stood silently, casting a watchful eye over proceedings. As Osiris’s hands began to untie the ropes, the faun finally spoke up.

“Just be careful.”

No shit.

In no time at all, the Telgradian had the Amari in a small booth in the corner of the room, chatting amiably with her. The wounded woman, scrawny from months of malnutrition at the hands of her “guardians”, eyes watery and red, had leaned in close, whispering her situation and continuing to talk about the last few months. During the conversation, Shinsou found out a great deal about how things had turned out the way they had. He tried to find out everything she knew about the Crimson Hand and its current movements. They were the main reason for all this. Their agents were everywhere, garrisoning every major town and city, their loyal hands tackling every ‘problem’ that Ulroch designated to be removed. They had enslaved Amari and turned her into ‘this’. The only surprise was that Shinsou hadn’t come into contact with them more than a few times. Lately, Osiris was getting sick of them. Ever since he had taken control of the Brotherhood, the Telgradian had been combing every country he had travelled to, gathering intelligence on the myriad organisations in each one. From the Church of The Ethereal Sway in Salvar, to the Corone Rangers, to other, more clandestine outfits like the Tarot. But none were more slippery than Ulroch's men.

He idly ran a finger down his cheek.

So far, he had learned nothing he didn't already know about the Crimson Hand- the bastards had to be brought down, all of them. They bound every body they could get their nails into, they had kept Amari blind to the truth of her slavery and as long as Lye stayed in power, more would suffer under the weight of their organization. That was where he and his Castigars came in. Soon, they would infiltrate the larger organisation, getting their men deep inside. They would burrow into the flesh of the Hand like starving parasites looking for a meal and rot the whole damn thing from the inside out. But as yet, Shinsou Vaan Osiris was working alone. He had to pick and choose his targets a lot more carefully than he normally would.

After two hours of talking, it appeared Mari knew nothing of why she was the way she was now. The Telgradian, even with his heightened senses, struggled to hear her again over the ambient noise her soul was projecting. Though silent to everyone else, it was like someone drawing nails down a chalkboard.

"There must be something you can tell me about how you got this way." Shinsou said, a frown creeping up the corners of his mouth. “Come on Amari, think.”

Philomel meanwhile had negociated her way downstairs. Under the many eyes of the men at the bar she pushed her way through the crowds until she got behind the main portion of people. After an hour of the talking and listening to Amari's story - which by no means was the first time she had heard something that painful - she got up and left, twitching her braid of hair over her shoulder. Now she stood, behind the bar along with the matron of the house, speaking over business affairs and coming to an agreement to possibly properly enrol this pub into a safe harbour for the Gilded Lily.

Vaeron sat on a stool nearby, drinking from a massive glass, trying to seem interested in the girls who flirted with him. They were just ordinary residents, not whores in any way, but still seemed intrigued. He sat, unable to smile, and thoroughly not turned on, but clearly a man who was desired. With his shirt half open he showed his rippling muscles, perhaps a little too much. Acting back in the best way he knew how he tried to please the girls who wanted him, trying to get his attention, but eventually most of them turned their backs. It made the mage more morose as time went on, though he did not show it. But inside Philomel knew him as a man who just wanted to please everyone he could. Even though his attitude and expression may not speak it.

The matron finally agreed to a sort of agreement of safe housing. With extended hands her and Philomel agreed, and then the faun nudged off from the wall. It was just at this time when she saw a face peering in from the crowds, a small round face which indicated Gosling, her private secretary. Philomel raised an eyebrow, wondering why the young woman was here, but gestured to her and nodded over to the wall where the stairs up to the room began. Taking with herself a tray of drinks (a torquay of red wine, three tankards of beer and a bottle of whisky) Philomel started heading there herself.

Gosling talked in a hushed voice as soon as she arrived.

"We were wondering how long more you are going to be, my lady," Gosling said, "You have been a while, and it is dark now outside. Even Veridian is out there, hunting now."

Philomel nodded and then shrugged. "I will be as long as this takes," she told her friend and loyal soldier, "As long as it is needed. Now come and see for yourself what I have found belonging to Lichensith Ulroke."

Amari didn't exactly like the newest turn of events. She was untied, that was... something, but she had thought that it was just going to be her and Shinsou having a discussion. Why the hell did Philomel the 'great and almighty leader of the Gutted Lillies' or whatever join them? Amari sat in a small wooden booth across from the two of them with sticky stains upon the table and wool jutting out from the leather cushioned seats. The place wasn't very clean and not only that, but it seemed like the place was some sort of brothel. Amari wondered if Philomel was the one to choose the place.

With Philomel there, Amari simply repeated things the two already knew. She told them that she had been born a noble, was with bandits - and had been rescued by Shinsou. She told them about her time with the Brothers of Castigar and Alexander - she spoke of Samson and his betrayal as he sent her off with a literal pack of rocks to go die in the wintery Salvic wasteland. Then there was the Crimson Hand, Amari noted their sour faces as she spoke amicably of Ulroke. Amari touched on how he was expanding his forces throughout Salvar but did not tell them why. Amari gave them false leads, not wanting them to go after Ulroke or throw a wrench in his plans.

Finally... Finally Philomel left, be it out of boredom or otherwise Amari didn't care.

"Right." Amari shifted and the conversation between the two changed to that of a more personal tone. Shinsou seemed genuinely worried. He kept making mention of her 'soul's noise' Amari's features softened as he had a final plea. If Amari knew anything she probably would have told him. Amari opened her mouth to say something, but paused as a rather buxom woman walked past. Her hand danced over Shinsou's shoulder as she offered him a wink.

Amari felt a lump in the pit of her stomach. Her tone turned bitter as she moved out from the booth wincing as she aggravated the wound in her torso. Amari's hands clasped tight to it. "I suppose Samson was right about one thing... you really are a playboy, aren't you? Why else would you be...here." Amari gestured to the pub/brothel around them. "You want to know why I'm like this? Maybe, just maybe I'm seeing the world for what it really is. I'm not some doe-eyed naive noble anymore, Shin."

She turned her back on him. "I'm stronger now, you go on about the noise of my soul - but what of yours?" She glanced over her shoulder at him and the torn pain and feelings running rampant within her were clear on her facial features. "It's still broken right, I could heal it if you wanted - but not here. Come find me when you're serious. Have fun with your whores." Amari muttered as she forced herself to look away from him.

Just get out of here, get out of here away from the crazy faun lady and the man who may or may not hate me.

Amari pushed herself past the patrons and staff, opening the door to a very chilly Salvarian night. A shiver coursed through her body as cold air pelted her face. "Better than smelling of sweat and cheap ass ale." Amari muttered to herself as she turned on her heel to find a more proper establishment to spend the night.

Annoyingly, it seemed she had completely missed her.

As they got to the top of the stairs it seemed rather clear that Amari the Red had gotten away before anyone could have noticed. Vaeron blinked twice before turning around and rolling his eyes, leaving Philomel and Gosling to stand and stare. The man who couldn't take his eyes of the Princess' 'sexy body', Shinsou Vaan Osiris, seemed at a lost for words, perhaps confused. But it was definite that the Red girl had gone away.

"Should never had untied her," Vaeron said in a voice they could all hear. And he left them, to go look.

Making his way down the stairs once more he stopped briefly to pick up a large woolen cloak that some pub patron had left draped over a chair. Swinging it around himself he pushed past men and women before anyone could notice the item of clothing's disappearance. He merged with the crowd and headed straight for the door, his hand going to the hilt of his dagger, having left the bow upstairs.

The ill-favoured wind was cruel and battered his skull as the Mage stepped out into the streets. With no hood to this fabric Vaeron was cursed to simply deal with it and start immediate tracking. Luckily for him it had not been long at all since the girl had left, and there was fresh snow on the ground. Being brought up as a hunter for the majority of his childhood, before he took up the practise of a priest of Earlon, he knew how to track. And his instinct told him what footprints were Amari's from their size, deepness and process of stride. Taking a breath he gathered his wits and set off at a low run to chase her down.

It did not take long. Her footsteps led straight in the direction of other public houses, through a couple of cobbled streets only. Coming to a place appropriately named 'The Rogue's Rest' Vaeron found her track to end. The small prints had been there for perhaps half an hour, but the Mage at least could check, and did, through the open window of the establishment. He spied her walking upstairs after shaking hands with the bar tender, and going, presumably for somewhere to sleep.

He paused for a moment, then just grunted a note of amusement to himself. Twisting around he started the trudge back to the first pub he began in, they had all began in to relate Philomel and the Shinsou man where Amari had made her comfortable new bed for the night. Why she left in such a state he did not know, but the new day would bring a new morning, and at least, for now, he could satisfy his comrades that her whereabouts was not so hopeless as it might have been.

Everything happened too quickly for Shinsou to make any sense of.

Amari didn’t hold any of the answers that he had sought with regards to her apparant corruption, but had instead presented the Telgradian with a whole list of new questions and headaches to contend with. Firstly, there was the issues with that bastard Samson. Shinsou had no idea what bullshit the Brotherhood agent had fed her, but it had obviously stoked a fire. He, the leader of a secretive paramilitary organisation, a playboy? Shinsou scoffed at the idea as another woman winked at him.

If only I had the fucking time, love. Too busy running around, hopelessly trying to be the good guy.

That both of them had been played by that utter fool could be no coincidence, but what did the betrayal mean, and why?

Then there was the issue of Philomel’s involvement in all of this. That issue, though, was getting parked for the night. Shinsou was about to embark on an exercise in rest and recuperation whilst Vaeron undertook his reconnaissance with the type of professionalism that the Telgradian just couldn’t muster that night. As he made his way slowly down the stairs, eyebrows raised as he replayed the conversation with the beautiful but broken Amari in his mind, the scent of double-blanched brandy wafted into his nose. He tried not to raise his eyebrows too quickly at the smell; Shinsou knew not to look too eager at the opportunity to get sideways whilst prying eyes spied him from across the bar

Philomel was waiting downstairs, her secretary Gosling in tow. Shinsou afforded them both a courteous nod before producing a pouch of gold coins from within his coat pocket.

“Want to tip a glass or two until Vaeron gets back? I’ve got fuck all else to do, and to be honest, after that, I think I need one.”

A tall, sober old man behind the bar gestured to Shinsou as he sat up from his post, leaning against a thick oaken support structure at the center of the pub. The two patrons sitting at the bar with them returned their gaze to large tumblers of whiskey, swishing the drinks around within them.

After a brief exchange, the short glass of gently bubbled honey mead slid across the bar to its familiar position by the palm of the Telgradian. One more came for the beautiful faun. As they drank, Shinsou could feel the honey mead slide down into his belly, the satisfaction of the first drink on a cold day wholly palpable.

Thread: 3 Days Remain: Friendship
Authors: Shinsou, Mari, Philomel, Vaeron
Type: No Judgment

Congratulations!

Mari receives 1,125 EXP and 110 GP (including 10% ability bonus).
Philomel receives 1,175 EXP and 90 GP.
Shinsou receives 880 EXP and 70 GP.
Vaeron receives 165 EXP and 25 GP.

All rewards have been added.