Missing

[Philomel]

mature cotnet

"Who are you?"

"My name does not matter," he said, "Only my purpose."

Folding her arms she stared at the man in leather, standing there all pride and strength, and swung back her purple braid to beyond her shoulder.

"Look," she replied, "I am not used to being spoken to like this. I don't know who you are or how you got here, but I suggest you leave."

A flicker of a smile came to the man's face as his eyes - the rest of his face hidden behind a black mask - darted around 'here'. It was a small room, atop an inn in the heart of Radasanth. Philomel's home city, where she had been raised and then conquered, taking over almost every brothel she could find. Some remained independently under the control of their patriarchy and pimps, and she respected that, so long as the whores were happy. Right now, however, she was in one of the ones who were fiercely loyal to her - strangely loyal in fact, and she was not sure how they could let a stranger in, right into the place she was preparing for sleep.

"I am not here to kill you," he said.

"Well that is good, because I am afraid it would be you who lost your life," she rolled her eyes and took an 'unmaused' pose.

A small laugh came from underneath the place, featureless mask. "I am sure you would, my lady, but I am only here to aid you."

"Aid me?" she snorted, "How? You mean you think you can promise me something that I cannot get for myself."

"No, but I bring news," he said, "And skill and a message."

"A message from whom?" she asked, her fingers gently carressing the pommel her fiery dagger, the Lover. "Who are you talking about? What is this 'news'?"

The man straightened his back and pushed back his black, cotton cloak, revealing the hilt of a shiny rapier and a simple revolver. Something Philomel simply detested. He set his hand on the sword, simply copying her movements and showing that he would not be easy, either.

"I come from a man from very far away," the leather man said, "A Sir Vitruvion Ellsmith. And he knows where your daughter is."

[Philomel]

Immediately her hands unfolded. Her hand shot to the sword at her back, grasping the hilt but not drawing it - not just yet. A feral growl ripped from her lips.

"What on earth do you know about my daughter?" she spat, "No one knows about her, hells her father doesn't even know where she is!"

The man crouched slightly, reading himself for battle. "Madam," he spoke, trying to keep his tone calm and polite, "I am here as a friend, to help you get her back."

"She cannot be missing," Philomel roared, anger flooding her body suddenly, "She is under the care of-"

"One of your matrons and her brother, I shall not mention their names," the man nodded, cloth-bound feet making no noise as he tried to approach her, spare hand out to placate, "Look, I come with the best intentions ..."

"You come here, saying my daughter is missing!"

The man sighed and took a step back, going back to his original position and his hand took a tighter hold on his weapon. "Yes, I do. It is to tell you the importance of my message. My master believes she was kidnapped as part of a sick fantasy, nothing else. He sent me here in goodwill. He ..."

"He what?" she screeched.

"Sort of owes you an apology. He did not know who you were when his comrade kidnapped you in Beinost."

Thoughts rapidly fired through Philomel's head then. Beinost. A quiet night. She just wanted to be alone, even without Veridian and she had walked the empty streets hoping for just a peaceful time and -

Then. A white room. No magic. The feeling of emptiness, being strung up and raped, clothed in bleack leather garb like a belonging. Held, beaten, been foreced mute, spited - then Shinsou. Heroic, stunned Shinsou ...

She wanted to forget that night. Or sometimes, remember it as the time they had.

Immediately her hand drew out her sword. She screamed and she let out a mighty roar. Running straight for the man, she aimed at his throat, to push him out of the window behind him, where he would fall to his death in a courtyard and all would be well. Her daughter would be safe. This was all a ploy, this was all a bad memory, a nightmare. He was not here to -

Bang. The door opened, and in rushed a beast made of feathers. It slammed into Philomel's side, knocking her right to the floor.

[Stare]

"Stupid idiot," Stare spat at the man as she leaned heavily on the faun's shoulders. "You don't think you could have done that a little more tactfully."

The man in leather, whose name was Albion and was Vitruvion's long-standing assassin, stood there and scowled with his eyes. So Stare scowled back.

"Hey, she was the one who took the weapon out!"

"You didn't have to mention the Hollow now," Stare shouted.

A grunting came beneath her. Then a stillness, then Stare saw a hand move from the temporarily stunned body, the one that still held the white sword. It tightened, muscles began to contract and a whole mighty weight began to shift beneath the kenku's light, tiny body. Even though her knees pressed firmly into her back the faun still was managing to stretch, push upwards in a movement to -

Quickly Stare grabbed the mythril dagger from the right side of her belt. White, like the long blade held in the hand, Stare swiftly brought it to the back of her neck, placing it just where she knew the spinal cord began. One wrong move and Stare could sever her brain from the rest of her body like the clap of a hand.

The body went still. So the faun knew how to fight then.

"Look," Stare hissed, moving her beak lower to be just beyond the faun's ear, right at the edge of the fur ends, "We are here to help, not to harm. I didn't want to step in, but I had to because you won't even listen to my comrade, whose name, by the way is Albion-"

"Stare ..." Albion growled at her.

Stare ignored him. She continued as she faun seemed to begin to suck in her breath.

"We are here to help you rescue your little daughter. Our master is doing it to pay back what happened in the tunnels. He wants an alliance with you, and would never have dreamt -"

Spying a small movement from the doorway Stare looked over to see the figure of a fox slinking into the room. When the two of them joined eye contact he bared his teeth, his golden eyes beginning to glow with a fierce ember. The kenku took one thought to consider all the anger she felt in everyday life and force it back on the being. Immediately the fox fell quiet, mouth hanging open, stunned in a momentary silence.

[Stare]

Nodding once, Stare grunted and turned back to the faun, and the prone but clearly agitated body beneath her. She pressed the dagger closer in, nicking the skin enough for a pearl of red blood begin to bleed. Albion watched, in intense fascination, his mouth slowly opening at what he had been unable to do.

"I know what you went through," Stare hissed, now lowering her face right to the faun's hair. "I know exactly what happened to you down there. I know the hatred the pain you have for that man - but he should have realised, should have recognised. He-"

For a moment Stare thought she was seeing a mirage. The floorboards around her and the still faun shimmered with a hazy light. It seemed they turned to water, the surface of them bubbling and bruising before -

Woosh, the faun was gone. Sword, body all. And Stare herself was on the floor, kneeling still, and with the white dagger in her hand, the tiny droplet of blood now lonesome, without its host. Then there was the cold press of metal to her neck now and realisation settled in. A small smile came to her face as she recognised exactly how powerful this was, and why Vitruvion wanted her as an ally. Why he thought they could benefit each other, aside from the rude introduction ...

Slowly the feathered being went still, her beak opening wide and a short, amused chuckle roll out.

"Just as talented, I see," she laughed, knowing that now Philomel was right behind her, sword this time holding Stare hostage. Calmly she held up her clawed hands, dagger in her hold. "I am-"

"What did you mean by 'I know exactly what you went through'," the faun's voice spat, pride and strength emananting through it.

Stare wanted to shrug, but the blade at her neck told her it might be a bad idea. So she opted for staying still, on her knees and her quarry now behind her. She could only imagine Albion's expression beneath that mask as he probably stood there, confused and lost. Shock, horror, no idea what to do.

"Easy, I went through it, for far longer too. Four months in fact."

And that was all that was needed. The coldness of the blade fell away. There was silence and -

Click. The point of the sword was on the floor. Stare rolled back her shoulders and slowly stood, happy that they had a sort of resolution it seemed. She kept her hands up though, showing where her dagger was the entire time as she glanced to her right at Albion and told him with firm eyes to stay there, not get in the way. The assassin seemed uneasy - but he obeyed. She was his superior now, after all.

"Oh," was the response from the faun.

The kenku shrugged, "It is what it is," she said, and slowly began to turn.

And raise her eyes.

Grey met black, the world fell away ... faun met kenku.

[Philomel]

They were on the road now, riding with the speed of ... well little speed at all. According to the facts, Philomel's daughter was not being held too far away. And there was little way in the news that they were going to move her at all. She was being held by a sick man who was obsessed with selling sex slaves for a profit, a business that apparently Stare's master Vitruvion, the man who actually ran and founded the hell hole called the Hollow, was partly into. Sort of.

"He calls it his 'empire'," Stare rolled her black eyes. "And trust me, I take no pride in the fact that I am part of it. But at least I know what the girls - they call them 'guests' - go through there. At least I can make it somewhat better."

The look on Philomel's face was one of absolute disgust. "How can you even support him?"

The kenku blinked once, her hands slightly tightening on the reigns of her black horse beneath her. It was a strong thing, bold and lively with an inquistive attitude. Therefore it kept nosing towards Philomel's huge bovine tera'k with its muzzle, sniffing the air around him. He lowed more than once, gesturing with a horn for her to get away. It made Albion the assassin, still masked, still silent and grumpy, to take his distance from the two women as he rode his own dark steed behind.

Stare moved her wrist into the faun's eyesight. Philomel saw the thick band of blackish metal curved around there, with small decorations, and metal binding that looked as if it were tied on.

"That," she said quietly, "Was my first gift from him. It is magically tied to him in a way that-" she cut off suddednly, and looked away, "I am bound to him," was all she finished with, but Philomel could see the pain resonating in her eyes. Pain she knew, that she had seen in so many other people.

"What is it?" she asked, trying to keep her voice low and out of earshot of Albion. Though she did not fully trust this kenku - not yet anyway - she still preferred her over the masked one. Firstly, she was a female. That made it a lot easier.

"He talks to me, in my head and has told me to shut up about it," Stare grunted, shaking herself. "That is all I can say for now. He's a bastard, and I know it, so don't worry."

Philomel pursed her lips, considering. Silence fell for a few moments.

"So why is he apologising?"

"Because by practise he does not capture other people who are in the ... same line of work as him, who could be potential allies. You, as the Matriarch of the Gilded Lily, are one such."

The faun raised her eyebrows. "I am, now, am I?"

The kenku nodded. "Apparently so."

[Stare]

"Is that because I am in the sex industry?" she almost bit the air in anger, teeth chomping down. "Because we are in very different areas, I tell you."

"I know," Stare nodded, keeping calm. "But there is comparison. You are not entirely legal, are you?"

She glanced over, black eyes piercing the dusk. Only the sound of the animals treading through the long grass was there for a while as they drifted their way across the vast farmlands outside of Radasanth.

"No ..." Philomel murmured, "And I have worked as less than legal that I am now."

"There," Stare shrugged, "Is your connection. He wants to allow you to build brothels in Beinost."

For a moment Philomel considered the words. Certainly the strange crescent-shaped city had always been out of her reach, so far. Yes, she had a stronghold in the other Raiaeran cities, but Beinost was such a sparse and strange place that she knew little of where to start. What people were like, she only knew because of their races, or their cousins, and that was it. Beinost as it stood had pockets of habitation, then stretches of abandoned homes to such an extent that Philomel did not want to face the challenge. Not at least from Corone, where she had her ship, her fortress, her army ...

"He says he will give you money, even, if you require it."

"I don't need it," Philomel shook her head. "I barely even need the buildings. Just pre-existing brothels." She paused, "So he is offering his help in the city?"

Stare nodded, "If you need it. And of course he will disallow anyone from taking your hired women."

Philomel breathed in slow. Certainly it would go some way into starting to protect them. "I will consider it," she said quietly. "Perhaps. But first ..."

She looked ahead, eyes narrowing, "Back to my daughter. She is held by this ... Mark, and he-"

"Puts out a broad advertisment every so often," Stare nodded, "Of his wares. And Vitruvion recognised the description of your daughter. There are few young fauns running around with a name such as 'Celandine'."

Philomel scowled. "And how does he know about her?"

"Because he knows Mr Mushi, the man who escorted you from Akashima to Erstfort island, when you gave birth to your daughter," Stare replied. "You were under a supposed name but that does not stop a clever man like my master."

[Philomel]

The sun drew long shadows on the ground as they rode towards the shore where Stare claimed the warehouse was that Celandine and a few others were being held. Veridian, who so far had been reluctant to even look at the kenku after what she had done to him, finally began to talk. He ran over the conversation as far as Philomel remembered it, growled at the right moments and sighed at the rest. As he turned his golden eyes to look at the black ones of the crow-woman nearby them he pondered, whiling the quiet minutes by.

Don't let Vaeron know, he suggested to Philomel and she nodded.

"I agree," she said outloud.

"What?"

Philomel looked over to the avidly watching kenku and shook her head. "Nothing. It was just Veridian."

"Veridian?"

The faun nodded back to her fox companion sitting at the back of her saddle. Looking over, Stare found herself captured by the golden gaze.

"Ah, he is not dumb?"

"No, in neither sense of the word," Philomel said, offended. "He is my beloved. And what you did to him was inexcusable."

Stare shrugged. "You were about to kill Albion."

"Thinking on it, I still want to," Philomel admitted.

The kenku let out a laugh, one that made a flock of sparrows pick up from the long grass and cheer into the sky, screaming. Screeching high they cried to all that people were there, disturbance and danger around.

Philomel blinked a couple of times and looked back at Veridian. He smiled a little to her, sparkles in his eyes. He told her that he respected her and that any decision she went with, he would follow.

If she wanted to try to kill these people after, he would help.

She nodded and answered back the feeling of delath beneath their feet. The mighty dragon, the insurance of their souls. He who could come like a wind and slay their enemies.

Aye we have him, Veridian answered.

And it was good.

[Stare]

As they got to the shoreline, they could see the building as a lone one surrounded by open field. Other temporary structures, such as three rudimentary guard towers, made of lean to sticks and badly made struts, as well as a number of tents, told of its current use. It was a terracotta red in colour, bold but aged enough for it to be weathered, the hue faded into a dirt brown at points that faced the sea directly. The roof was simple slate tiles and the entrance faced the land, so it was clear as the party approached that it was indeed a warehouse.

Huge doors spoke of huge contents. But the tents themselves were small, so it could be presumed that the beings were not. The usual humans, elves and dwarves, along with a few odd flavours - such as the faun and kenku. As they got close enough to begin to see figures in the guard towers, straining their own eyes in the dying light, Stare gestured for them to stop and sharply pulled her horse down to where a hill began.

There was no clear path to take, not even up to the warehouse, and so it was over uneven ground the mounts went. The tera'k lowed as he was pushed into a sudden other direction and Veridian hissed, but Philomel out her faith in the kenku, this time, her heart pounding as she knew she was so close.

They gained to the cover of the land's rise and all were on edge. Stare began to slip from her mount and the faun followed after. Turning to face Philomel she paused for a moment, then nodded.

"If you go in, they will form suspicions. Fauns are rare as is."

Philomel nodded slowly. "Indeed. But I can very easily gain past their borders, take out a guard before you come in after." She patted her sword hilt happily.

Shaking her head slightly, Stare disagreed. She saw Albion come after, his mask still on his face. He came within earshot and it was only then she went on.

"Attacking will be no use," as the faun opened to object she firmly spoke on. "Yes I am sure you could take some out, but I fight better one on one and Albion is an assassin. Stealth is his key." Behind the faun the man nodded. "No, the best thing is for not to attack at all."

"Then why even bring me here?" Philomel said, rage starting to build. "Why even-"

"Because it is your right, as a mother," Stare shrugged. "Vitruvion is giving you this gift now, to settle things between you. As a goodwill gesture for future trade."

"Uh huh," Philomel folded her arms, taking that arrogant attitude as before. "So what's your generous plan, oh amazing one?"

"Simple," the kenku shrugged, "I go in, as my master was invited. I go to buy the kid, we essentially rescue her ... You stay here as a last resort."

Philomel's eyes narrowed. "I don't like it."

"But it works," Stare's eyes focused on hers. "Admit it."

It took a while for Philomel to think about it, her upper lip curling. "Ugh. I don't like it. But fine. But Veridian goes with you."

[Philomel]

Stare agreed, and that was because Philomel made her.

As the kenku rode away on her glorious black charger, Philomel stayed with her part of the bargain - Albion. The assassin was taken aback when the women had encouraged to what could only be described as a hostage exchange. He had stared, his eyes livid through his black mask and responded with a large amount of abuse. But it had been made with the idea of a treaty in mind.

She waved a little at the last sight of Veridian, his small form clinging onto the saddle. He said farewell to her inside her head and then turned to focus on the task at hand. He would remain quiet, and give her an insight into the warehouse, backing Stare the kenku up of things went wry.

As they approached the first guard tower, and therefore the realm of the slavers, Philomel moved back, breathing in. She took a moment to pace her hooves along the ground and then looked up to Albion.

"Are you and her talking then?"

Albion blinked and tilted his head to the side. Mask on his face he could not show the expression of curiousity to the faun directly.

"Talking ...?" He sounded confused.

"In your head," she gestured at her skull. "Your ... Master, Vitruvion, he speaks to her. Are you all like that?"

The assassin shook his head. "No, lady Stare us special."

"Lady Stare is it?" Philomel arched an eyebrow. "She told me she was once nothing more than a slave."

"And now she has sworn loyalty to Sir Ellsmith, and has risen as his steward," curtly Albion nodded his head. "It has taken many aback."

"Sworn loyalty, is that what they are saying?" Philomel said in an amused tone, remembering the cuff around Stare's wrist, the one that the kenku had said was forced on her, binding her to the man for all eternity.

Albion shrugged. "She is his steward now. Whatever he did to make her his, they have that partnership."

"Partnership?!" Eyebrows rose further.

"Relationship," he edited, lifting a hand and brushing it through the tufts of hair he could reach. "Whatever. But she is strong and he wanted her."

"And he usually gets whatever he wants. Like an alliance with you."

His eyes lifted and met those of the faun.

"It is an honour to actually meet you, lady. I have actually heard a lot about you."

"Good things, only, I hope," she grinned.

He inclined his head. "The best."

[Stare]

"We start at five thousand gold!"

In the centre of the room there was a single, haunting spotlight. That powered down from a magically enhanced crystal, condemning a spot in the centre of the floor. In that small circle stood a young girl, not more than four or five, dressed in a long, white dress and with braids. She also had tiny shackles about her wrists, and she was human.

A hand from the grand, structured seating on either side of the room stuck up in the air. Not too far from where Stare and Veridian sat. A voice called out, yelling, "I take it," then another:

"Five thousand, five hundred!"

The man who had first called out, the one who had initially suggested the price, stood also in the base of the room - the stage - but behind a lectern. He nodded and pointed out the people.

"Any rise on five thousand, five hundred?"

"Seven thousand."

A rhythm of chatter ran through the crowds. An "Ohhhh" and a "Ahhh," as an elf stood, dark hair against pale features. Veridian stood on all four paws to get a better view, swinging his tail. Stare blinked a little at him as the man at the lectern took the call.

"Seven thousand to the elf! Anymore?"

There were a few more calls. Eventually the elf man won at seven thousand three hundred. At the fell of the hammer the girl was calmly taken off the floor by a trio of men in chainmail and drawn swords. The same thing that had occurred so many times so far. Letting the disgust sink deep into Veridian.

"At last ..."

He looked up. Sure enough, there was a tiny young faun now being taken centre stage, her eyes huge and her beauty so gorgeous. Directly Veridian connected to Philomel, his heart beating at the same time as hers.

Large eyes. Perfect chestnut curls. Strong, adorable features. And standing so lost, so full of confusion, and as quiet as a mouse.

Celandine. Heiress to an empire.

"And the process begins at four thousand!"

Immediately Stare stood up, and threw her intent into the battle.

"I will take that call."

Boom. A heart beat. Boom. Another.

"Any rise?"

"Four thousand, five," a hand rose.

"Six thousand!" Stare yelled, her voice a caw over all.

"And any mo-"

"Six, five!"

A shudder ran through Veridian. What was this? Another man wanted her that badly?

"Seven thousand!" Stare replied.

"Seven thousand, five hundred!"

"Eight!" She retorted.

"Nine," he cried back, a grin.

Veridian could feel the panic rising in Philomel's chest as she watched. Would they need to send in Delath? To roar, to reign, to take Celandine away?

"Twelve," Stare suddenly said. And eyes turned into her.

Silence fell.

Twelve echoed over the room.

"I have twelve thousand over here. Any advance?" The lectern man pointed at the kenku.

Utter silence. Eyes fell on her competitor whose colour drained from his face.

"None?"

He shook his head. No. Too high. Far too high.

"Sold, to the lady kenku. Lady Stare if I am not mistaken?".