Owl of my Youth - Mercenaries Have Lives

[Stare]

Set between Kith and Kin and Blood Red Trees and Black Wings. A short solo that became huge.

[Stare]

"Many decades ago, when I was a young man and had decided to settle in Raiaera, after declining the offer to teach at the Istien Universities, I joined the militia. I was part of the Tel Celebarrna, the Silverwind, part of the elite force. Even though I was simply an ordinary soldier, I was still one of the Skyknights which, as you know, is the flying mounted squadron of the army."

A soft twitch of a smile came to his face.

"The bards at the Istien University made it possible for me to join, despite not being a citizen of the country, and found me a steed. Her name was Vanesse ... It means beauty. And she was a beauty. A full pedigree pegasus, who I knew as a foal and trained with. She was pure white, and possessed a fiery spirit. Just my sort."

Leaning back in his chair he ran a hand through his own long pale locks.

"That painting in the entrance hall is of me from those days. The uniform, in blue was standard for the Skyknights, with embellishments of my own. In those days I was happy, proud in fact of who I was. Venesse and I became easily one of the finest soldiers, skilled in all sorts of combat maneouvers, fighting with bow and spear."

Confused slightly, she tilted her head, hands gripping the seat beneath her. "But there's an owl in that picture, not a Pegasus."

Vitruvion paused and then nodded, a shine in his eyes of a fine, good memory.

"That would be Blaud, a tawny owl that I made was given. He served as a falcon might, assisting in the battles and when I was on scouting duty. Genuinely us three, Blaud, Venesse and I made a good company, and I did have a pleasant, fulfilling life. I reached the rank of captain, despite always wanting more, but I worked hard, I adapted to the situation I had been placed in."

Her beak parted. This was not the sort of man she knew, capable of living under orders from another. His pride had always been a distinctive feature of what she knew about him. The way he held himself, refused to accept his lot in life of living as an ordinary human. Instead he created things like the Hollow, which was, at its core purpose, to act as a controlled kingdom that he could not have. Would never have, unless circumstances changed.

"Yes, my dear, I was different then. Somehow I found joy, I found purpose on the back of Venesse, constantly establishing our bond. Perhaps I would have remained happy, with Blaud on my shoulder and Venesse carrying my weight, and perhaps I forgot what and who I was at times."

"So what changed?" She asked, incredulous. "Why did you go ... Back? You told me you refused the position at Istien due to it not suiting your wants in life, but someone being a Skyknight did?"

The god trapped in human form breathed in slow, his eyes dropping to his goblet.

"Venesse died. Killed in a battle by a wicked arrow, from my own side. Whether it was an accident or deliberate, I never found out, but the anger that I felt, and the things I did in an attempt to discover the culprit reminded me of who I was and what potential I had."

He breathed in, deep, his eyes for a moment filled with a peculiar, deep sadness. Stare focused on that, her heart pounding as she saw the rare moment of her employer showing his deeper, rawer emotions.

But then in a sudden moment it was gone, vanished as determination took over.

"I am what I am, Stare. Blaud stayed with me for the rest of his natural life, and then I travelled, going from Hernsford to Fallien. Finally I came back to Raiaera and settled here, in Beinost. Once here I decided to face up to what I truly desired, what I had been denied, and I built my empire here."

[Stare]

Until he had mentioned Blaud Stare had not realised the significance of the owl in the house. Though Vitruvion did not use a sigil for his nobility often, the small coat of arms of an owl poised over a black field could be seen in many places. It was hidden as a boss in the ceiling of the dining room, it was angled at the corner of the library shelves. Even the stairs, with their woven ivy coiling all over the banisters had some, hidden away in the leaves.

The most obvious owl, however, that Stare had definitely missed to recognise, was the brass head at the top of Vitruvion's dark wood cane. Calmly Vitruvion had been holding Blaud's form all this time before everyone. Though this was a newer one, Stare was sure his older cane had had an owl's head before - she had simply never registered it. But now she did. And the more research she did the more she found it was a type of hunting tawny owl, that had been found eating crows. The irony struck her as something bizarre but very fitting, as she moved around the mansion, doing the bidding of her god.

The mage Vitruvion and she had found in the prisons of the Bounty Hunters' Guild, near Raiaera, was kept in the Hollow. He gave little more information than he had before during their initial trip. He became something of a burden, and at times Vitruvion came home sour faced because of his inability to get any more information from the man. But the Hollow was the best place for him. It disallowed anyone who was from Althanas to use their power. And the god was determined not to kill him. Because surely, the mage had to have more information.

Days became weeks and the elf they had rescued from the same prison began to be revealed as an invaluable resource. She took to Stare's duties as naturally had been born with them - which was not surprising as she had education in administration, management and business. It worked well for the household, Stare did not have to feel so overwhelmed and managed to begin delagating in the third week after the prison raid, rather than have Mer shadow her everywhere.

It was in that same week though that Mer revealed to be more of an issue than Stare liked. Mer began to make comments about how she could have managed without help, and how she, an elf, was clearly better at the job.

"Not that I'm appreciative of what he did," Stare was muttering to Vitruvion's other main aide, Raevin, who served as Captain of his guard, "Mer is good at what she does but ..." She scowled with her eyes.

[Stare]

The elf with the long brown hair and green eyes, eyes that had once looked so longingly at her but now only had respect and/or mocking, shrugged. He lifted his clay tankard into his hands and drank. Stare watched a single bead of clear liquid run down his chin.

"She irritates you then?" He asked when he put down the cup.

The simple statement made the kenku growl. "Raevin. More than that. She's ... Obnoxious."

"Didn't he tell her to respect you though?" Raevin said.

"Exactly!"

They were sitting in the mess hall of the Hollow, right in the lowest basement of the Guard House, where at least twenty guards usually sat. They were of various employ, some belonging to the other brothers of the Hollow, not Vitruvion, but they all knew who Raevin and Stare were. Vitruvion, after all, was the last original brother left, one of ten who had begun the Hollow together (though it had been his brainchild). He therefore was both the chairman of the brother council, and also unspoken leader of the whole place. Seeing as the Guard House also belonged to him, the guards recognised Stare and Raevin truly as their superiors, even if they were not paid by the same hands.

Even though Stare six months previous had been one of the approximately twenty five sex slave concubines.

"So ... She probably is just testing waters of your personality. She'd never not obey a request from you," he nodded to his own words.

The kenku blinked and looked in disbelief. "Rae ... That's not ... That isn't ..."

The elf raised an eyebrow, "Has she questioned a request from you?"

Stare paused, trying to think of a time. She frowned when she couldn't think of an exact, direct example. "She's ... Done things I didn't ask for, or rather done it in a different way ..."

The kenku tailed off, unsure. But Raevin seemed to accept it. He smiled and chugged back his beer. "You're fine," he told her. "Mer is fine."

[Stare]

Stare's eyes glanced around the score of guards in the room, some of whom still looked at her with lusty eyes. There was one who was intensely staring, his eyes bright. But she looked at him back, pausing a moment to glare with hatred. The man sucked in his breath through his teeth, and was stunned for a few full seconds.

Raevin watched her reactions, then smirked slightly at the stilled guard.

"You really have become more powerful."

Stare grunted and then swept up her own tankard into her clawed hand, her eyes moving away from the other people in the room.

"So has he," she whispered.

Raevin arched an eyebrow, but then smiled with a gleam in his eye. "He'll honestly never let you go, you know that right?"

She let a breath fade from her lungs in a sigh. Her hands gripped around the tankard.

"I know," she muttered. "Even if I run to the other side of the world."

"Ah, he won't let you get that far."

A grunt came from her throat. A knowing, disgruntled, mocking (at herself) grunt.

There was a silence between them. Raevin shifted and leant forwards to her. "You could be a worse situation, with a worse man."

Stare blinked and raised her brow at the notion of a 'worse man,' and Raevin shrugged. "He is not the worst." He looked at her seriously. "Think of what we know if his father."

Ansaldo. The single god of his own planet, who had a pont chant for creating races and then sending them away without any memories when he got bored - a series of actions that usually led to the race's quick extinction. Stare's race, the kenkus, had been highly unique in the fact they had survived. She knew now that they had been found by another old race and taken across the sea in ships, and enslaved.

She nodded in acceptance and breathed into her drink. "I guess so."

[Stare]

Raevin smiled and leant over to pat her on the back. A far cry from the desiring touches he had given her almost a year ago. This time it was comforting and friendly. A high amount of respect in that single movement and point of contact.

"We'll be working with each other for many years I suspect."

"I will only live until I'm forty or fifty," she replied. "Whereas you're an elf. You'll live far beyond me."

Raevin smirked slightly, and he lowered his voice again to whisper. "Stare, you work for ... Well, you know. If there is one thing he will work on doing, it is extending your life."

She sharply breathed in, and stared at the grain of wood before her. Of course, she had considered the idea of her living longer because of Vitruvion's magic before. It was something he himself had commented on, even when she was just a guest of his in the Hollow.

"We'll need to do something about that," was what he had said.

"Raevin! Stare!" came a sudden voice.

And both of them looked up. Along with around all of the guards in the room. All but those who were passed out from drink or exhaustion.

The voice came from the iron door leading to the Hollow, and it was rich and full of precious tones. Like a luxurious melody it sung out to the many ears and made the two aides sit up with attention and understanding. Knowledge also that they were being commanded by he who ruled their lives.

White-blonde hair, piercing blue eyes. Dressed in dark blue tail coat and breeches, with thigh-high black leather boots. He had his cane in hand, tipped with the head of an owl, in memory of his beloved Blaud. Perfectly poised he was surrounded by no less than three guards, including Brer the half giant, with a mighty hammer slung over his shoulder. Between them all was an individual that Stare had not seen in the past two months in the Hollow, let alone just out of it. Her brows rose as she saw the carefully and artfully tied form of Blaze, Vitruvion's oldest guest of the Hollow and survivor now for nearing three years standing there. Red, fiery hair (hence the name). A raised chin and arched neck and fine features. A thin shirt that came to just half calf. Her hands were bound before her, pinned to her torso by the ropes. Her feet were gently wrapped with a foot and a half rope hobble. She looked pleased, and proud - that was until she saw Stare. Then her eyes began to burn with utter rage and jealousy, that made Stare herself pause and begin to wonder what Blaze still thought of her.

[Stare]

"Sir," Raevin stood and bowed his head. The rest of Raethe room held a hallowed silence.

Stare did not move. She kept her seat, blinking slowly as her hand still clutched around her tankard. Raevin stood there on his own, acknowledging the authority who had called them. From across the room the blue eyes began to burn intensely into hers and that arched eyebrow began to rise higher. Seconds passed and-

Whispering to herself a curse for her weakness, she dragged herself to her feet, knowing that showing up Vitruvion here was one of the worst mistakes she could possibly ever make. The pressure of the cuff at her wrist seemed to increase. Letting go of her drink she looked directly at her god and nodded in kind as Raevin, but not as deep and not as much of a bow.

"My lord," she said, clearly, biting back the sarcasm.

The entire room seemed to relax. A collective, unseen, nearly silent, breath of wind filled the air. Vitruvion looked right at her and smirked for a brief moment. Beside him Blaze looked utterly astonished and at a loss. Gesturing the man who ran this wicked kingdom down here raised a hand and pointed at her heart. Then he moved the hand to indicate the space at his side.

Stare glanced to Raevin, who shrugged slightly. Vitruvion wanted her not him. Grunting, and knowing the façade of obedience could not die this day, less there be controversy, she picked her feet up and moved over. Directly, she was obeying his orders, his subtle directions. Despite everything that despised him and wanted to see him shamed she was operating under respect for him and not arguing. Respect. Acknowledgment. Her god.

"Stare, you remember Blaze of course."

The single sentence, when Stare came to his side made the kenku pause and blink in disbelief. Blaze twisted her head up to glare at Vitruvion in utter bike hatred, and Stare raised her brow.

He was smirking, biting back a laugh as he orchestrated this entire thing.

[Stare]

"Yes," Stare grunted a reply, and she refused to look at the slave concubine.

"This and this," he gestured, and from behind him a huge hand that could only belong to Brer swept forwards two pieces of fabric, holding them out to Stare.

She paused, looking confused for a moment before Vitruvion nodded at Blaze. He leant closer to Stare, and spoke for only those in his party could hear.

"Blindfold and gag, my dear. Do it for me."

Immediately Stare's jaw stiffened, and she felt the warmth rush out of her body. For the second time in a week or so he was requesting her to assist in the marks of enslavement that she herself used to be a victim of. Hypocrite, bitch and pig were descriptions of herself that crossed her mind. Last time he had had her lock Sable in her room. This time it was a public show of how she had altered.

"I-"

Do it, girl. He hissed. Do not deny my authority in front of all of these. It's an order, you know it.

Yes, for you to display how you've 'tamed' me. Brought me onto your side. She stared back at him intensely, making no sign of their internal conversation.

He gazed back with stern, blue eyes. One, if you do not, there will be hell to pay. Two, these people need to know who is in ultimate command. Is that me or you?

She huffed darkly through her nostrils.

Well? Is that me or-

Yes, my fucking lord, she growled back and twisted away from his eyes. For all the others might have seen what had occurred was nothing more than a staring contest. Now Stare was moving as fast as she could, grabbing the horrible stretches of fabric. She did not look at Blaze as she moved to the redhead's side.

"You absolute bitch," she screamed, "Traitor and-"

Well done, Stare savagely whispered at her master as she lifted the first piece of fabric to tie it around Blaze's mouth, cutting off the vulgar language. You have now made me hate myself.

And that moment she did. The ways she had changed, the alternations from one side to the other. Serving under her god whom she could not get away from, and not deny. Who was manipulative, proud and all into the public gestures of his once reluctant sex slave who was now his paid and respected servant (still slave though in private company). Stare knew she was truly his in that moment, in more ways than when she had been in the Hollow. As she tied the first knots to silence, then blind Blaze she felt the cold stab of acknowledgement to what Raevin had said.

[Stare]

"He'll honestly never let you go, you know that right?"

And I promise I never will, he whispered to her.

A traitor and a deciever. That was what she was now.

Stepping back she returned to his side, refusing to make eye contact with him. She could see though, his wide smirk, satisfaction knowing he was still the one in power. Something she had to admit.

After all, he was still a chaotic villain.

"Come," Vitruvion said.

He looked to Raevin, gave him a single nod, which the elf returned. Then, looking back to the room the god began to walk, his pace picking up fast. Pressure from behind her made Stare begin her walking. The guards pressed close around Blaze, one of them (not Brer) pushing Stare more forwards to have the space. Her clawed hands forming into tight fists and she kept her eyes away from everyone else, focused only on the ring that shone before her. On the third finger on Vitruvion's right hand.

Quickly they ascended the stairs. Blaze was gently pressed at the shoulders to guide her by the two normal-sized guards who Stare deduced to be her usual escorts. They whispered in her ear when it came time for them to ascend the staircases. And meanwhile, Stare kept slightly before them, just behind their ultimate leader.

Up by stairs and corridor they went, passing by various guards and mercenaries who were being trained, paid and organised. All along Stare began to wonder just exactly what was going on. Why Blaze was there, with them. Yes, she knew that sometimes Vitruvion took his 'guests' above ground, into the light - she herself had been taken in that way - but this was the first time she had been involved. Asked to attend to his side, bidden to come.

They strode into the light of day. There, waiting for them was the oaken carriage of Vitruvion. Not too simple, yet not too ornate. Practicality over everything, with a team of four grey and brown horses standing at the front. Currently there was one being around the carriage and he was Vitruvion's usual driver - a silent, peaceful man by the name of Eret. He slipped off the driver's seat, down the full six feet to the ground with a smooth leap. Twisting, and not even sparing a second glance for Blaze, he opened the carriage door and bowed his head low.

Vitruvion stepped forwards and ducked his head as he got in. Stare slipped out of the way as Blaze was gently urged forwards and up into the interior. There were a few murmurs as seating was arranged, and the guards debated their positions.

"Stare. Inside," came the calm, cool voice.

[Stare]

There was a short, awkward silence. Three pairs of eyes - the driver was now climbing back into his usual place - turned to look at her. Two of them were large and brown, belonging to Brer who paused, then moved out of the way. The other guards also descended their ways out of the carriage to allow her full room to be able to get in.

Stare sucked in her breath. She blinked, and her tension got all the worse.

"Stare!"

"For fuck's sake," she muttered, moving her body suddenly and awkwardly. Shoving herself through the hole that was the doorway she moved into the interior of the carriage, her eyes full of darkness and fury for him. Vitruvion looked back at her with the shine of glee still in his eyes. The master manipulator. The lord of all he saw. Still in charge, still in command.

You are such a bastard, she hissed darkly at him.

Vitruvion chuckled and relaxed into the corner. Beside him Blaze sat, now able to see but still with the gag in her mouth. Her own furious eyes were glaring at Stare who scowled back at her and slumped into the far opposite corner, the three of them making some strange, ill-fated company. Lastly Brer heaved himself into the carriage to sit beside Stare, ducking at the last moment to secure a fetter around Blaze's ankle, then securing that into a loop into the ground.

The memory of the same thing occurring to Stare burned in her mind. Her eyes dark and full of spit she looked away from them all, her right hand sliding to grip the hilt of her mythril dagger tight.

Moments of utter quiet passed. The door was slammed shut, Brer took his seat. The carriage creaked as the last two guards climbed into place. Then it lurched as the party was thrown into motion.

Silence. Complete silence.

I fucking hate you-