The Disappearance Of Lady Heysan

[Stare]

[Stare]

set just after the whole McKinley and Stare adventures.

Part One

She let out a light gasp as they came to be once more within the confines of a brightly lit corridor. White stone walls and the long, seemingly endless slope of slow descent told Stare with a while glance where she was. With a gentle shove she pushed herself away from the man who had grabbed her and pulled her into the portal that was slowly pulsating closed behind them. She did not want to look at him, or this place or any of it. All she was concerned about right now was her newest friend McKinley, whom they had just left to her own devices.

When enemies such as Stare’s undead brother were out hunting her.

“She made her own decision, Stare,” Vitruvion spoke low behind her. “She knows the danger she faces.”

“You should never have left her in the first place,” Stare growled back at him, brushing her feathers down where his grip had upset them. “She could have avoided being attacked by him at all!”

“I left her a protection,” he replied, “which she used, and this time she wants to be left alone. Something that you ignored. Like you entirely ignored my order.”

“You only mean it to be an order when you use the word,” Stare finally glared back at him, with her black eyes that could kill. He stood facing her, his white hair framing his face, leaning slightly on one foot, but head held high showing to the world just what sort of lord he was.

“I would actually hope that you take everything I say that even hints at a command as an order, Stare,” there was a note of disappointment in his voice. She folded her arms, glaring at him, and he raised his brows. “But as usual, you are going to argue. Now, I'm ordering you to stay here, as apparently you cannot keep yourself safe in Radasanth. Until I figure out precisely what is going on-”

Stare looked at him as if he was mad. “Wait - no. You have to be joking. I am not staying confined here. You-”

He suddenly darted forwards, grabbing her shoulder and pulling her back towards him. Her words were cut off as she saw him looking up the corridor, an alarming wide smile on his face. As she shrugged out of his grasp she turned to see what he was looking at - the Brother Frendir striding up the corridor with three guards and a young woman, mostly unbound but with a large red wine stain taking up the side of her face. He threw Vitruvion back a smile.

[Stare]

“Vitruvion! And your … well Stare. How are you?”

The girl behind him lifted her eyes that had previously been latched on the ground and came to gaze at the kenku with wonder. She was not one that Stare recognised, which made her think that this one was new, and heard of the rumour that was the 'guest’ of the Hollow who had escaped that cruel fate and made her way to be one of the most recognised individuals in the city. Either the girl had heard about her in Beinost itself, or the murmurings of the community of the girls here had spread to ensure everyone who was knew heard of the legend that was the kenku Stare.

Vitruvion drew himself slightly straighter as Frendir came to stand near them, smoothing down his clothes for the sense of a decorum. He nudged Stare surreptitiously in the back and she rolled her eyes a little, but took up a more respectful pose, loosening her arms and instead cupping her hands before her. Despite being angry at the god beside her she responded to habit and stepped to the side so that Vitruvion could proclaim himself forwards.

“Well, Frendir, I am well. Stare of course is fine. And yourself.”

Not that she could not speak for herself. But Stare knew far better than to try to argue with Vitruvion in front of his colleagues. His reputation as a good employer, as a gentleman, as a noble in the courts of Raiaera mattered to him so deeply that Stare had never even dared imagine to shame him in any way. There was also the issue of the fact she did not want to - not now. There was more hope in her than ever that he would become a worthy god for her to worship.

Thus she remained stoic, her eyes flickering to glance at the gawking girl, and giving her a small nod before switching her gaze back to Frendir.

“Glad to hear it,” Frendir beamed, then he paused and waved behind him. “Ah yes this is [I]Humility[I]. She'll be around somewhat.”

“Unfortunately I will not be,” Vitruvion said with a fading smile.

At that Stare's breath caught in her chest. With confusion she took a small step back and looked up at him, her beak opening. Frendir looked just as surprised. But he remained silent long enough for her to gather her thoughts.

“You-” she broke off, pausing for a moment to begin again. “My lord, you said nothing about this,” she said low.

“No I did not, my dear, but let us not bore Frendir that boring conversation, hmm?” He smirked a little and did not look at her.

Frendir as his usual character remained none the wiser and kept smiling. “Well, I think … in that case I shall be off. Come dear one,” he waved to Humility. The girl did not move. It took one of her guards to shove her gently forwards and she let out a quiet, surprised shout before Frendir grabbed her hand. Stare breathed in slowly, gripping her hands together to stop herself from screaming at them all.

The brother bowed his head, before swinging around and pulling the girl with him. She gave Stare one last desperate gaze as she was forced down the hall. The kenku had to force herself to look away, swinging her eyes to glare at Vitruvion and throw all her frustration into him.

“You’re going away?” she hissed.

He grabbed her shoulder quickly and began to push her down the halls, opposite direction from Frendir. At first she resisted, but he shoved harder and hissed in her mind.
Stare!

She drew in a long breath and let him guide her with his strength, showing her the way towards the door near the end of the corridor. The slope went up from here, towards the base of the underground and the door that led to the room, which led to the stairs that led eventually out to the wide bright world. The first door obstructing their path came into view, but Vitruvion pushed her around to avoid it.

[Stare]

They went through a door, into the room that she had once been so familiar with - filled with a table, chairs and too many ropes and chains in neat coiled piles to bear. His hand at her shoulder she more eagerly let herself be led into a room beyond that, then one after in which had armchairs, a crackling fire and a low table already set with a waiting pot of tea …

She slumped her way over to a chair and gestured to it.

“Am I allowed to sit, sir?”

“I could make you stand for all the pain you have put me through, girl,” he curled his lip, then he graciously waved a hand. “But yes you may.”

Huffing, but waiting until his hand stopped his movement, Stare swung and dropped into the seat, her eyes on his. Curiosity and ferocity raged behind her eyelids. She snapped when she saw him remain in his position, standing there.

“Why are you leaving?” she asked abruptly.

He breathed in slowly as a strange weary look came over his eyes. Then he looked right at her.

“Before I answer that, get it into your head matter your arguments, Stare, you are staying here. This is the safest place for you, where those I trust can keep guard over you.”

“I can very well take care of myself,” she protested. “You sent me to the shore, to find out what was happening with the ships. I was fine, Nosdyn and I-”

“Stare,” he said firmly. “No.” She opened her beak again and he raised his brows, “No. There are no arguments here. I might be gone sometime and I will not risk you.”

She stood up then, out of the seat she had won, but defiant and bold, her hands twisted into fists. “I hate this place, Vitruvion. If you have to, fucking hole me up in the house, but not here. Not here. In this,” she waved her hand erratically to the walls. “Hell!”

“Oh so you would stay in the house if I told you to?” He folded his arms, brows raised. “Stay in your room when apparently it was so difficult when I first moved you there?”

“Yes!” Stare shouted back at him, taking a daring step towards him. “For days, weeks if you told me, but I'm begging you not here.”

Vitruvion went silent for a moment before his expression changed. His thin but perfectly formed lips twisted up into a resemblance of a pleased smile. His eyes glistened with a certain amount of pride as he took a step towards her and laid a hand on her head, running his fingers down until they cupped her jaw. Standing beneath his awesome prowess and vigour Stare felt her breath catch in her chest, frozen to that spot in that odd and single moment.

“My dear, you are everything I have hoped for. I am proud of you,” he sighed. “But - here is safer than anywhere else. You are the most valuable thing I have, and I will not lose you.”

Her eyes dropped down, and she let out a small grumble. “You speak of me like a possession.”

He let his hand fall, shrugging uselessly. “You yourself have said that you are 'mine’. It's suitable language, and will do for now. However, the matter still is not altered that I do not know how long I will be gone and I cannot take you with me where I am going, and here there are guards for your safety as well as attention. Thus-”

“What has happened, Vitruvion?” she asked quietly, “Why do you not know how long you are gone for?”

[Stare]

The god paused, breathing in slowly. He was silent for a moment.

“Ventrua has disappeared. She failed to come home last night.”

Stare gasped, surprised. She could not help it. For it was not what she had been expecting in the slightest. Ventrua was his half sister, and his first ally in coming to this planet, she was the one link Vitruvion had to his past life as a partially active god. She had known him before, and she knew him now, had followed him to Beinost and slowly become more and more distant over the past year as she determined to set out a life for her own …

Yet despite that last, she was part of their small world, and always had been another possible victim of the ruinous plans of Vitruvion's brother, Vindrexis.

“I'm sorry,” she said quietly, and not just for Ventrua. For her arguments up until that point, for her rudeness and her very flat disrespect in the way she had been speaking to him, despite who he was to her, wear he was to her.

Vitruvion felt the extent of her apology through her emotions. Though he had not expressed much irritation of her defiance, aside from his guiding her down the corridor, there was a clear change in him. He relaxed slightly, rolled back his shoulders, and gave her a calm, polite nod, the smile on his face long gone.

“I'm leaving you the safekeeping of everything until my return,” he said. “The businesses, and the projects. Zulon will assist, if you need, and I will be contactable.” Stare breathed in, understanding what he was saying. He was leaving her in charge - of it all. Not just those are was manager of, but the running of his entire world. It meant he was truly desperate, that he wanted to devote all of his time and energy to finding Ventrua, but also that he now trusted Stare to a greater extent than he had done before.

“I need not say that this does not mean you can cause a revolution here. Your usual protocol remains, and as I said you are to-”

“I'll need to go out if I am to still manage the businesses,” she said quickly, looking right into his eyes.

He looked at her for a moment, pausing. “Fine, but you sleep here, and anywhere you go you take however many guards Zulon insists are necessary. Yes?”

She stared at him, raising her brow.

“Stare it is entirely for you protection. Refuse and-”

“Fine,” she sighed, lifting her shoulders in a defeated shrug. “I accept your conditions.”

“You are interrupting me a lot today,” he narrowed his eyes slightly and gestured at her none too kindly. “Work on that.”

It was practically a command, and Stare would have debated it were it not for the situation he was in. Thus, she nodded just once, but showed her apprehension. He looked her over once, and smiled briefly, sadly gently caressing her feathers.

“Hold my kingdom for me until I return, my steward,” he murmured.

“Yes, sir,” she mumbled as her reply.

[Stare]

“Miss? Miss!”

There was a firm shake at her shoulder. A hand that was strangely small but strong wrapping over the muscle and bone there, and rocking it haphazardly.

Her eyes jolted open. Suddenly she was thrown into the embrace of the conscious, where dreams could no longer protect her but where nightmares could not long claw at her with their vicious thoughts. Staring out she found herself face to face with a young man desperately looking into her eyes and bending over her with an expression of panic. He straightened as he saw her coming to, pulling his hands before him as he bowed at the waist.

“Miss.”

Looking around her she could see she had fallen asleep in Vitruvion's bed. After pacing around for hours, lonely and bored, Stare had ended up reading into the early hours. She had fallen asleep, exhausted, right on top of the quilt covers in which she had spent various nights, each very different from the last. Now she was being called to the world of the living, somewhere that was familiar yet so unwanted. Once, she blinked before realising precisely just where she was (the Hollow) and who was addressing her (one of Vitruvion's guards). And he was bowing at her, which was fairly new.

Quickly she sat up, her brow lifting, and her hands pulling down on her clothes to make sure she was covered. “Can I help you?” she asked in rushed tones.

The guard, who had fabulous ginger hair and beard and was possibly part dwarf, rose from his bow to nod. “Yes, miss. Lord Gravelle is waiting in the antechamber.”

Stare blinked, as she through about the grey-haired, grumpy, foul Brother of the Hollow who was as pleasant as a piece of wood stuck with nails.

“What the Ansaldo's balls is he doing here?” She asked, bemused, as she struggled from the bed covers. She headed towards the foot of the bed where a small leather trunk baring her own clothes from the mansion had been deposited by a lone guard yesterday.

“He … apparently had an appointment with Sir Elssmith, miss, and did not receive the news that he was going to be gone for a few days …”

Stare stopped, straightened as she unbuckled the lid of the furniture and threw it open. Her eyes narrowed slightly. “Well tell him that.”

“I have miss, but he - he … well. Insists that it needs to be discussed now.”

Running her eyes over the contents of the trunk she grabbed out the finest tunic that she could see at the top. She was about to start pulling off her current clothing when she realised that it was not exactly the proper thing to do, if she truly was now acting as Vitruvion’s steward. Gravelle did not like her, but if was insisting on speaking to someone it was going to apparently have to be here. Pausing for a moment, she looked at the guard. “What does he want?”

“He said something about … room allocation for a new guest he has?”

The kenku froze, severe dislike coming into her eyes. Her brow furrowed and she stared at the guard who swallowed slightly. “He has brought her with him, hasn’t he?” she said, flatly.

The man before her winced slightly before nodding. “Yes, and apparently she has been sleeping for a week in a living room so …”

[Stare]

Throwing her eyes to high heaven Stare let out a dissatisfied caw as she turned to glare around the room. She found a satisfactory partition which would do well to get changed behind and stomped over to it as she began to tug off her clothes. “Stupid idiot has to leave me with this stupid, ugh,” she muttered as she struggled out of her current crumpled tunic. Sweeping it over her head she flustered at her mental extent, where he was usually lying in wait.

Gravelle wants to talk about rooms for a ‘guest’ of his. He said he arranged this meeting with you?

There were a few agonising seconds of silence. She tried again. My lord, did you hear-

Stare, you can deal with a trifle like this, came an emotionally weary, tepid voice. Deal with all these matters as I would, not as you wish I would, not as you would, but as I would, which I trust you to do.

Easing into her finer tunic she proceeded to tie the belt around her waist as she breathed in slowly. Her eyes glanced down to the dull metal cuff on her left wrist that had been there for so long now that it was part of her identity. The immovable ornament connected her mind to Vitruvion’s, and had at first been a shackle that shouted her enslavement to her. Now it was more than that, a symbol of her close bond with him, and though sometimes she wished it could come off, each day that passed made her more used to it. More aware of the benefits. More aware of the power.

“Ahm … Miss Stare?”

She looked around the partition at the guard, her eyes briefly studying his young, blonde form. Slowly she breathed in, straightened and adjusted her clothes as she felt Vitruvion's presence feel satisfied, then drift away; once more to look for his sister.

“Yeah,” she replied, striding out. She paused to reach one more into the trunk and pull out her weapons - her dagger and clawed glove. Then, tying them both onto her belt she continued on her way towards the door.

“My name is Eirik, miss,” the young man said with a small smile. His hand lay on the hilt of a small set of daggers at his belt. “Lieutenant Zulon has placed me in charge of your safety.”

Stare glanced around at him, her brow raised. A brief glimpse into the aura sight told her he was middle-of-the-alignment neutral in morality, human, in his 30s and had a mostly honest heart but darkened by small white lies. Ones he likely told his family about his work to avoid the truth of this hellhole.

“I apologise but I do not recognise you much.”

He shook his head, a small smile on his face. “You probably wouldn't miss. Though when you first came to live here I was amongst those who …”

Tied her down, trussed her, made her into a package ready for Vitruvion's pleasure.

“Delightful,” she grunted. “And apparently now I'm your boss.”

His lips twisted into something of a smirk. “Apparently so.’

She let out a single note of laughter before slamming open the door.

[Stare]

The girl beside him was young. Too young. At least she looked thirteen but Stare hoped, for the sake of all that was good, that she was older. Small elf ears poked between golden tresses of hair, and her features were fine, pretty and delicate. Large, hazel eyes gazed out and stared as the kenku stepped into the room, and the slender neck beneath had a visible lump firmly form in it.

“You …” her tiny lips whispered.

Suddenly she was savagely yanked. Letting out a cry as the leather leash that attached to her hands were tugged. Her hands were badly bound in further leather cuffs, and she wore the skimpiest outfit that tried to make the best out of her immature breasts and hips.

Stare's attention snapped over the grey haired and foul man who she knew had something to do with the merchant bank of Beinost; likely one of its main representatives. He had a history of hating her and despising Vitruvion, often arguing why he should have more power within the city and the Hollow. Now he was here to complain that his apartment was too small, presumably because he had a new kidnapped soul whose parents were likely very fearful for her safety.

“They said you were here, in his place,” Lord Gravelle spat, “Why he could not have placed a more reasonable representative to deal with matters in his name is my question?”

“Miss Stare - Lady Stare is Sir Elssmith's chosen steward, Lord Gravelle.”

“Eirik, thank you,” Stare looked at the guard from a single beady eye. Yes she might have no say on the fact he was going to remain by her side, in every room she walked into for foreseeable future, but she also needed to be stern. He did not have to speak to her.

Fortunately, the young human seemed to accept the thanks and what it meant with grace. Inclining his head he slid a step back. Stare smiled slightly before she drew her attention back to the Brother again, trying to ignore the way her heart cried out for the girl and made her want to do nothing less than run over and embrace her.

She took a steady breath in, and set herself to proper decorum. As simple as talking to any manager of Vitruvion's stores. As simple as holding the Council of the Brotherhood.

“Eirik speaks the truth,” she said slowly, trying to avoid the pleaful gaze of the girl. “Lord Vitruvion has made me his steward, in fact that was around a full year ago now. I believe you received note. Yesterday he had to take an unexpected trip, and had little time to make arrangements - thus, the easier solution was to leave me in charge of his affairs, as I already partly manage around half of them.” She folded her arms. “So? What is your issue that I can hear?”

[Stare]

The young kidnapped woman let out a quiet gasp at the end of Stare's tirade. The kenku though, out of politeness and knowing that she was representing Vitruvion here - who … was, well, her god, - tried to ignore it, keeping her beak somewhat high.

“This is my newest guest,” Gravelle very briefly smiled, and shoved a hand behind him to grab the young girls breast. Stare folded her hands into tight fists to keep herself from screaming at him. “And I no longer have room for her in my measly apartment. Thus I need a larger one.”

For some years now, Stare knew, Gravelle had been intensely complaining about the location of his apartments. The Hollow was an ancient catacomb, hardly used but that existed in a wide spiralling tunnel that gently declined deeper into the earth. There were ten sections, sets of rooms that were called the 'apartments’ of the ten brothers, intersected via the centre by an offshoot room of a great octagonal shape that served as a council chamber. Below the apartments was where the guards Hell was, where guests who had once been in favour and now were no longer were sent and never heard of again. Because of the Hell, and because of the fact Vitruvion lived in the apartments to the closest to the surface of the world, and was the chairman and last living founder of the Hollow, there was a tradition that the higher up your apartment on the path, the more important you were.

Gravelle currently resided somewhere in the bottom section, beyond the council chamber. He thought, however, that he deserved to live beyond and closer to the light of day. Stare realised that this, claiming he had not the room to house this, his sixth 'guest’, was just a new plan to gain heights.

Stare's jaw tightened a little as she imagined what personal nightmare his girls must be living through. Indeed, she had lived under Vitruvion for four and a half painful months, but she could imagine Gravelle was worse.

“Lord Gravelle,” Stare said slowly, trying to think of what best to do. What Vitruvion expected her to do. Deal with all these matters as I would, he had said. Certainly, she knew ready, that meant not giving in to his desires and giving him a new apartment. But her eyes looked to the young woman for a moment and thought of what best she could do right now, for her.

“Lord Gravelle, you have made the choice to take in another … guest.” She forced the word out from her beak. “You know the capacity of your own apartments.”

The older man narrowed his eyes. “You dare talk to me in that way.”

“I speak as my Lord Elssmith has allowed me to,” she pulled her hands in front of her and clasped them with decorum. “As the authority of his steward allows me. Now, I can advise that there is no possibility of you moving apartment as there is-”

“Well these ones are hardly used to the best of their capacity,” Gravelle interrupted. “How about your lord move out? He only has two guests at the moment.”

Stare saw Eirik from the corner of her eye grip the hilt of his sword tighter. The kenku fought to keep her own calm, for all the truth that she wanted to kill this man right now and free the young woman who had only just passed into maturity. In fact she would gladly kill all the brothers and free every girl whilst Vitruvion was gone but his request for her to 'not start a revolution’ was foremost in her mind.

“That,” she testily replied, “is not even in discussion.”

[Stare]

“Why not?” Gravelle grinned at her slowly. “Why not? For he has made the decision to leave you in charge. In that case then you can make the choice to have your lord’s position altered somewhat. Sorry, your employer. Better yet, your master, you little fowl.”

There was a sudden, bright ring of steel. Stare saw the glint of light as Eirik took a step forwards, the sword now bare in his hand. Shoving his way partly in front of her he hissed darkly at a wide-eyed Gravelle. He opened his mouth to speak.

“I have a solution,” Stare said quickly, suspecting exactly what the guard was about to say. Eirik paused and looked over at her. She slowly stepped around him, watching the young blonde beginning to shake, wide eyes on the naked blade.

Gravelle’s gaze flicked over to her, brows raised. She took this as an invitation to go on. Stare looked at Eirik, who curled his lip distastefully but began to lower the sword.

“Until a more suitable arrangement can be made,” Stare spoke to the Brother. For instance, as soon as Vitruvion returned, “Your new guest will be able to stay within the apartments here.”

She had no idea if it would work, and even if it was what Vitruvion would want, but it would give her the chance to keep a close eye on this wide-eyed fresh-faced girl who had been condemned to this hell through no fault of her own.

“Might I suggest, miss,” Eirik said low, with a growling undertone, “That Lord Gravelle will not be permitted to entertain her here, and he must pay for her upkeep. Food, guards and the like.”

“All costs will come from your own pocket, Lord Gravelle,” Stare agreed. “And I would suggest that you satisfy yourself with the six guests currently under your guidance.”

Gravelle curled his lip before he spat on the floor just in front of Stare's feet. Eirik darted forwards, immediately horrified - and Stare was honestly caught off guard, surprised at that. She was even more surprised when the guard swung up his sword to Gravelle's neck, stopping the blade inches from his throat.

“Lady Tsukaka is Lord Elssmith's chosen steward and representative. She is to be respected, you ugly, insufferable-”

“Lord Gravelle,” Stare said quickly and tightly, seeing panic rise in the young woman's face and feeling her own heart beginning to race. She fought back hard not to cause Gravelle pain - though the man had been subject to her powers before. “You may leave your guest here to make arrangements. I will send word when she has been installed and where you might collect her from for your … entertainment.”

Her voice trailed off as her breathing began to grow more erratic, each word coming from her beak more painful than the last. Entertainment. Torture. Rape. What a horrible life awaited this blonde human who had likely done nothing wrong to have the fate.

Stare looked away from them all, fearful that her emotions would become a weapon. “Eirik?” she asked, wondering if he would do as she wished.

The guard grunted and lowered his sword but remained where he was, between Gravelle and Stare. The lord scowled, but seemed to understand what little power he had here. Dropping the end of the rope he had he spat once more before twisting sharply on his heel. He exited, gripping the door and then throwing it open so hard it banged on its hinges when he left.

Slam.