“The house is a death-trap, we can’t touch anything! Proceed with the hunt?†Duchesnel’s voice is received clearly, and he patiently waits for a reply.
Heuliox was running out of time, and excuses would soon have to pour from his lips to grace the ears of his superior. With a deep breath, and a jaw set and hardened, he replied quietly into the linkshell. “Proceed. Someone will come to aid you. Make sure she is down, keep her this way.†He placed only a limited amount of trust in Ivaan, hoping that the stern demeanor of the youth would not falter. But one could only place so much hope in one individual, look what happened to the young woman who softened his heart. She lived longest among operatives. He long ago placed a gamble on her, that she would shine the brightest, that her perseverance would carry her further still, but in the end..
.. she was meant to die.
In his office, enveloped in silence, the Commander seeks the comfort of a bottle from his collection of spirits and looks for a lonely glass on the bottom of the drawer. “Rivienne Navarre, ah, but that name will soon fade, won’t it,†mumbled words were interrupted by the sound of him opening the bottle.
Ivaan lead Moss through the heavy terrain, listening to the commands given in his ear. Amber eyes stared forth, penetrating the darkness that came upon him quickly. Lightning flashed, thunder rolled in soon after. The storm was coming. Rain had already threatened to weep down upon the lands. Mud was not ideal to travel on, but Moss was accustomed to dealing with complicated terrain.
The wind was against him this night, it’s howl carried a burden upon it. It slapped his visage, razor stings when his hair whipped about in his vision. He was not going to be deterred. With the elements working against his favor, the youth seemed more determined to meet with the others. “Go, go!†He growls, snapping the reins of his companion, who desperately rushed blindly into the unknown.
Will I find her?
Or shall I be met with corpses leading me to her?
Plagued by his thoughts, such fuel served to push him onward. The other men were ahead, two steps ahead. But this was also his home, he grew underneath the same boughs she had. With knowledge of the paths hidden from the usual denizens that only followed the main road, he cuts his distance from them in half within moments, and hopes that the Twelve are on his side this day.
Under shadow they walked with haste, Marbella upon the saddle of Avenger, the Duskwight before them leading them to freedom, or demise. The road was unkind, and the path was not meant for those without a strong heart. There were things in the forest that would wish to take one’s life without thought; these were savage and rabid, tainted creatures. They reminded him of the woman who was walking behind him, for once Marbella introduced her for who she was, what she was, the rumors were brought to light. He had to perform his task, not only because he promised Marbella, but because he too feared the wrath of her disappointment. Thus he took them to the only place he could, where smugglers brought those who feared persecution, where a supposed Lady Winter guided those who fled from the land Rivienne was now heading to. He believed her crazy.
And far too bold for her own good. Much like his passenger this day.
[ Final, Part I ]
Heuliox was running out of time, and excuses would soon have to pour from his lips to grace the ears of his superior. With a deep breath, and a jaw set and hardened, he replied quietly into the linkshell. “Proceed. Someone will come to aid you. Make sure she is down, keep her this way.†He placed only a limited amount of trust in Ivaan, hoping that the stern demeanor of the youth would not falter. But one could only place so much hope in one individual, look what happened to the young woman who softened his heart. She lived longest among operatives. He long ago placed a gamble on her, that she would shine the brightest, that her perseverance would carry her further still, but in the end..
.. she was meant to die.
In his office, enveloped in silence, the Commander seeks the comfort of a bottle from his collection of spirits and looks for a lonely glass on the bottom of the drawer. “Rivienne Navarre, ah, but that name will soon fade, won’t it,†mumbled words were interrupted by the sound of him opening the bottle.
Ivaan lead Moss through the heavy terrain, listening to the commands given in his ear. Amber eyes stared forth, penetrating the darkness that came upon him quickly. Lightning flashed, thunder rolled in soon after. The storm was coming. Rain had already threatened to weep down upon the lands. Mud was not ideal to travel on, but Moss was accustomed to dealing with complicated terrain.
The wind was against him this night, it’s howl carried a burden upon it. It slapped his visage, razor stings when his hair whipped about in his vision. He was not going to be deterred. With the elements working against his favor, the youth seemed more determined to meet with the others. “Go, go!†He growls, snapping the reins of his companion, who desperately rushed blindly into the unknown.
Will I find her?
Or shall I be met with corpses leading me to her?
Plagued by his thoughts, such fuel served to push him onward. The other men were ahead, two steps ahead. But this was also his home, he grew underneath the same boughs she had. With knowledge of the paths hidden from the usual denizens that only followed the main road, he cuts his distance from them in half within moments, and hopes that the Twelve are on his side this day.
Under shadow they walked with haste, Marbella upon the saddle of Avenger, the Duskwight before them leading them to freedom, or demise. The road was unkind, and the path was not meant for those without a strong heart. There were things in the forest that would wish to take one’s life without thought; these were savage and rabid, tainted creatures. They reminded him of the woman who was walking behind him, for once Marbella introduced her for who she was, what she was, the rumors were brought to light. He had to perform his task, not only because he promised Marbella, but because he too feared the wrath of her disappointment. Thus he took them to the only place he could, where smugglers brought those who feared persecution, where a supposed Lady Winter guided those who fled from the land Rivienne was now heading to. He believed her crazy.
And far too bold for her own good. Much like his passenger this day.
[ Final, Part I ]