(A/N: I'm sorry this isn't actually a new post. I had to move things around a LOT to accomodate the new Prologue, which took me around half an hour >.<;;. However, there should be a new chapter coming up very soon. I've also tweaked little bits here and there, including the testimony of Dr. Janstein in order to try to make things a little clearer. I hope that clears up some of the excess confusion.
)(Hah! I updated in the same week! *dances around*.
I've been in a rather strange mood lately. Homework is suffering, but writing is going well.
. Hopefully I'll manage to find a balance soon, but for the moment I'm perfectly content to read and write. I hope you enjoy this chapter.
)The chosen, the ones, to set worlds right,
Maintain the balance,
Undo what hath been done,
The ten, the many,
Frail and mortal, immortal and strong,
Beauty and marred, flawless and weak,
The path to the heavens thou truly doth seek,
Reach unto the stars,
To save the worlds from terror?s grasp.
* * * * * * * * *
Imoen lay curled up on the bench, trying to sleep. The light that seeped through certain holes in the wall were minimal. The scorch marks had started haunting her when she closed her eyes. She swore sometimes they were seared into her retinas, only ebbing away when she drifted into sleep.
Scorch marks that lurked ominously amidst grey stone and spoke of things that might yet happen.
Want toscream want tofly want torun want todie
Sahara/Damaris would come for her. It was the one thing keeping her awake, keeping her going these days. It wasn?t that the Cowled Wizards were cruel to her. On the contrary, when she was let out of her cell, they were too friendly. It freaked her out majorly. She had to get out of here. If she had to bear one more monk looking at her like?
The ironic thing was, besides the thought that Sahara/Damaris would come for her, the only other thing that kept her from insanity were the ?insane?. It was the times when they couldn?t communicate that she started to feel her mind slip.
Imoen/Kathryn was a free soul. Being stuck inside, being locked inside stones and wood and dealing constantly with the stress of worlds and fear, she was beginning to question some of her actions. Talking to herself was natural. She?d always muttered things under her breath or conversed cheerfully with tasks at hand. But now, when sometimes it was the only communication (could talking with yourself be called communication?) that she had, she was scaring herself.
Sometimes, Wylev wouldn?t let them out of their cells, claiming that they were too disturbed. Their meals were delivered via flaps in the door that sealed up again, the voiceless carriers gone too quickly for her even to grasp a look. She wondered whether Wylev was more disturbed than they. On the occasions she was brought before him, she had felt so horribly afraid. A circle of Cowled Wizards around her, all staring at her, and the Coordinator in front, studying her like she was formulae for a spell. Those days always left her with her head buzzing painfully. She was never sure whether she was grateful for the escape from her immediate prison; whether being reduced to an object for different reasons was worth catching a glimpse of the sky through high slanted windows.
She wondered, she was never sure, she scared herself all the time these days.
Her thoughtswouldruntogether. Hermindwouldwhirl.
But she would not go insane. Because Sahara/Damaris would come for her.
And there were always stories from the other inmates to listen to.
She just needed to hold on.
* * * * * * * * * *
It?s funny, he pondered laconically. The best conversation-stopper never used to be almost killing someone. That had come along with the job.
She cracked under the silence.
?So, I take it you?re a Bhaalspawn as well.?
I scowled at her, sitting on the opposite side of the cell, eyes guarded and defenceless. Someone should have taught this girl long ago how to hide feelings, emotions. Fear and boredom were written over her face in equal measures. An interesting, inconsequential mix.
A strange urge rose up in me. No shit, Sherlock!
?A Bhaalspawn?? I asked out loud, slightly shaken. A voice inside your head was never a good indication of sanity. Then again, I had always heard, so I supposed it was a little late now. ?The term sounds familiar.?
?Familiar?? Disbelief framed her now. ?I thought all of Faerun knew the prophecy.?
I shrugged. Why was I making conversation with her? Moving slowly, I didn?t grimace when my arm pulled.
?You?re bleeding.?
I resisted the urge to rip her throat out for such an inanity. It didn?t deign a reply. I occupied myself with studying the walls again. The door. If there was any weakness I could exploit, any way?
I knew that outside, there were at least twenty guards scattered amongst the complex. Armed. Armoured.
Still. The sanity issue was already out. I felt bile claw at my throat at what the answer could be. I would not die like a dog for a noble?s amusement. There had to be a way out, and I would find one.
It took me a few seconds to realise that she had spoken.
?What?s your name??
I bit my tongue, lightly. She was beginning? she already had, annoyed me.
?A name means nothing inside the walls of a trap,? I answered curtly. ?If you are to be of any use, we should start planning an escape soon.?
Her chin lowered, before snapping up high again. ?We wait until the guards come, open the door, then we ambush them.?
I stared at her. Was it possible that elves could be so stupid? That was not what my teacher had taught me. Elves were supposed to be wise.
I supposed there were always exceptions to the rule.
She must have sensed my contempt.
?Well I don?t see you coming up with anything better.?
?It would not be difficult,? I scraped my nails against the stone and felt grime collect beneath my fingertips. Thirteen hours in here, I guessed. I needed to get out. ?I cannot imagine anything more likely to fail.?
She raised her eyebrow. It infuriated me. ?So what do you suggest??
That had me. I had nothing.
I was about to answer, however, before the door clanged open.
?Get the girl ready for the arena,? the man announced.
* * *
?Let GO of me! Let GO of me! Let??
He slapped her sharply across the face and her struggles ceased for an instant, overrun by shock, exhaustion, and emotion. Sahara/Damaris staggered back, only to be caught by the ashen-eyed stranger before she hit the ground.
?That is no way to treat a lady,? he said softly.
?The girl gets what she deserves,? the guard sneered, and the other ones laughed. ?And slaves like the both of you stay quiet.?
He drew himself up, and Sahara caught herself staring. Despite the blood, despite his wounds, despite the very situation they were in, the only thing that blazed in his ash-grey eyes was anger. ?I am no slave.?
The guards laughed even harder at that. The main one sneered, before grabbing the rough collar of his shirt and pulling him close enough to examine a mouth with missing teeth.
?You?re property,? he enunciated slowly. ?Master Lehtinan?s property. You shut up and fight when you?re told, slave. Now stay quiet and let?s get to the rings!?
He shook him one more time, before shoving him backwards roughly towards the other guards and then brutally backhanding him.
Or rather, brutally backhanding the air where he?d been regaining his balance an instant ago.
?What???
Sahara stared. This man was fast. The guard stared at the air and stared at the eyes coolly regarding him, and for a second a growing storm of violence seemed to crackle in the atmosphere before it was dispelled by a voice.
?Wait,? one of the guards suddenly spoke up. ?Lehtinan only asked for th? girl.?
?Are you sure?? he ground out. ?I?d be certain that Lehtinan wouldn?t mind an extra show today.?
?He asked only for th? girl,? the guard repeated.
?And Lehtinan doesn?t like his clients to be kept waiting,? another added.
?He?s got a special guest today too,? the first piped up again. ?Saw them gettin? ready. Dunno when he?s comin?, though.?
He wavered between indecision, before the consequences of wasting precious time and keeping Lehtinan waiting won over his urge to teach this new slave a lesson in humility and place. And perhaps educating him on the more brutal ways to die painfully. He growled.
?Fine. Get her.?
?What?s going to happen?? he demanded as the guards began to close around her.
?Where are you taking me?? she said simultaneously, fear shining in her eyes.
?Oh, you?ll get to know soon enough,? a guard laughed.
As she was dragged away, kicking and struggling with all her might until silenced once again by a violent slap, he punched the wall.
8 8 8
?So this is Isaea?s house?? Jaheira snorted.
?It appears so,? Yoshimo nodded. ?It matches the description we got from the serving wench, anyway.?
They stood in the Government district, contemplating the surprisingly nondescript white house before them. From experience, Yoshimo doubted that appearances on the outside would continue on the inside. Besides, the place was only nondescript for the Government district. In his eyes, it still spoke of loot.
Jaheira mused. ?Do you think Aerie will be able to keep Minsc and Kalran out of trouble?? she asked wistfully. Yoshimo hid a grin.
?Meaning that we plan to extend this scouting mission to an actual hunt?? he raised his eyebrow.
?We?ve got no time to lose.?
No time to lose indeed.
So much could happen in twenty four hours.
More than anyone could know.
Lives could be changed.
Lives could be ruined.
Lives could be ended.
?We don?t at that,? he agreed after a moment?s pause. ?Let?s go in.?
And pray that the door really is unlocked, he thought briefly, before dismissing the thought. He didn?t fancy picking a lock in broad daylight before the people of the Government District. But the man that had spoken to him had no reason to lie. The hatred was there in his eyes.
Jaheira opened the door and rolled her eyes at the extravagance. Yoshimo bit back another grin. He had been correct. Carefully, the two moved around the house. Although definitely luxurious, it seemed that Isaea was not one of those who entertained much, and his house was simply a private place away from his father?s estate, where the servants, ballrooms, and huge kitchens lay. They quickly found their way to his bedroom where Yoshimo knelt and inspected the main chest. The carving of a huge red dragon caught his eye.
?Search all of these,? Jaheira ordered softly. ?We need everything we can find.?
He looked at her, slightly irate. ?I am quite aware of that fact, druid.?
She closed her mouth as a snappy reply flashed to her brain. ?Just open the chest.?
The Kara-Turan didn?t deign to reply as he fished a lockpick out of the pouch at his belt and set to work. He bit lightly on his lip as he worked. Isaea must have a lot to hide. Or be paranoid. Or both. Most nobles didn?t bother to use locks like these on their trunks, they used them on their vaults.
But still, they were no match for him. He just needed a little? more? time?
Click.
?Done,? he grinned, and sat back on his haunches as Jaheira threw the lid open and began digging around almost immediately. Beneath the clothes, her hands touched two rolls of parchment, and a leather bound book. She quickly checked them, and a grim smile came to her eyes.
?This is what we came for. Let?s get out of here.?
He surveyed the room and nodded. ?I doubt we will find anything else of use here,? he agreed.
?Besides,? she chuckled dryly as they moved out cautiously into the street. ?There?s no telling what might have happened to those three, even with just a simple visit to the Sea?s Bounty.?
* * *
They could hear the patrons screaming twenty meters before the inn came into view.
?A simple visit to the Sea?s Bounty?? Yoshimo asked mildly.
Jaheira rolled her eyes.
* * *
