Group role-play: Rodeo 2

Fieron | Rhylon | Jaegos | Mortiris | Kail | Sarad | Rafale | Mortigan | Jhelya | Mortiris(2) | Alviara | Shinara | Fieron(2) | Czrel | Sarad(2)

Fieron
Vyrissa carefully smoothed out a crease in her dress as she waited patiently for the carriage to arrive at the church, watching with boredom as the houses slowly crawled by. The thick, low fog in the streets of Melcene meant that she had to get her feet wet, and she regretted packing her boots away.
Vyrissa wondered what her new husband would look like. She only knew that he was a higher ranking noble man than her father, and that he was a general. The serving girls often whispered to each other about him of how handsome and heroic he was, but Vyrissa was doubtful. She remembered reading many books on how a very handsome man could turn out to be a cold, distant or a cruel, wife-beating husband. The worst, she felt, were the husbands who lied about how much they loved their wives when they actually had mistresses and affairs.
Suddenly, the carriage halted. Vyrissa stifled a yawn as she readjusted her hat and waited for her butler to open the door.

top

Rhylon
Stepping from the carriage, Vyrissa cringed as her foot came down upon something wet and slimy, but quickly resumed herself into a semblance of nobility. Approaching the church with her manservant trailing not far behind, Vyrissa could not help but notice the number of soldiers and guards milling around in the courtyard. Several of the lower ranks even paused in their conversations to notice her passing, before carrying on in a slightly more hushed tone of voice.
As she came to the steps of the church, the low mist cleared for a moment to show a large puddle right where she was about to step. Pausing for a moment, Vyrissa blinked as a cloak fluttered in front of her vision to land squarely atop the puddle, clearing her way. Looking to the owner of the cloak, Vyrissa saw a man in his mid-thirties with dark blond hair and an honest face. His shoulders were unadorned, indicating one of the lower ranks, but he lacked the corporal or sergeant chevrons one of his age would have accrues. An older man joining as a private perhaps?
Smiling slightly, Vyrissa walked around the puddle, not stepping on the cloak. Seeing the look of surprise on the soldier's face, she turned to address him.
"Ten points for chivalry and gentlemanship, but there's no need to ruin a good cloak like that. Now," she said directing his attention, "where might I find your commanding officer, General Ducatis?"
There was a slight chuckling in the background, and the soldier smiled ever so slightly. Standing up and wringing out his cloak before placing it on, he moved to the doors of the church and placed one hand upon the door.
"I believe that he awaits for thee inside, m'Lady. I shall be thy escort, if it please thee." Opening the door, he gestured within. Nodding, she entered the church and allowed the soldier to direct her towards the altar. As they approached the altar, Vyrissa looked around, but could not see anyone around, not even a priest of the church. The soldier looked down at his tunic and seemed surprised for a moment.
"I do beg your pardon, m'Lady, I seem to have misplaced both my general and my jacket. With thy leave?"
Nodding her assent, the soldier ducked off into a side alcove, leaving Vyrissa standing alone with her manservant near the altar of the church. Sighing with impatience, Vyrissa bowed her head in a silent prayer.
"Lady Vyrissa, I presume?" came a voice from the shadows. Spinning on her heel, Vyrissa beheld a man of stature, the epaulettes of a general and the medals to match. Then he stepped from the shadows, and his face was illuminated. The soldier in his mid-thirties, dark blond hair, and an -apparently deceivingly- honest face approached, and his eyes twinkled with mischief.

top

Jaegos
Everything had gone horribly wrong since she first arrived. The wedding had been postponed for three months due to “more urgent matters”. Despite having been around for a whole month, she barely ever caught a glimpse of General Ducatis except for meal times and even then not a word escaped his mouth. As far as she knew, the statues placed around the mansion had more personality than he did. Worse still was the fact that even the servants refused to engage her in conversation and sometimes went as far as to avoid her completely. Her own manservant had been sent home the day they had arrived. Could anyone lead a more exciting life?
Throughout the entire month the poor lady had remained at home in hope that the General might finally find the time to accompany her. However, that hope was all but dead and she yearned for the outdoors. It was not as if anyone would miss her in the house and since she was going to live here for the rest of her life, she should start getting to know the area.
Vyrissa sighed as the hundredth person for the day stared at her and whispered comments to her friend. She should have known her wedding to the General was not a secret. Yet, she could not understand why none of the people there would speak to her. Turning around, Vyrissa decided to ponder on what sort of rumours about her were spreading through the city while she returned to her new home.
Of course, being the worse month of her life, it would be natural that all her worse fears came true. Right in front of her eyes was General Ducatis kissing another woman. Tears formed and fell almost instantly. So this was the reason for all the whispering behind her back and probably why the wedding had really been postponed. Ducatis had never intended on marrying her from the beginning because his heart already belonged to another. Even though she knew nothing about him, even though she felt not love for him, for a reason she could not explain, Vyrissa still felt betrayed. Again she turned and ran as fast as she could.
Blinded by her tears, she did not see the man she ran straight into.
“Lady Vyrissa. You’re coming with me.”

top

Mortiris
As Vyrissa opened her eyes she found herself in a lavish room. Lace covered the walls and silk adorned every piece of furniture. The only thing that was out of place was the chain that attached her to the bed. As she tried to piece together what happened she remembered two things, one, Captain Ducatis kissing another women, and two, a man grabbing her as she was running. She noticed some food on the night stand next to the bed and suddenly felt very hungry. As she ate the rye bread and cheese Vyrissa began to wonder why she was chained to a bed in a room of silk and lace.
After a few hours of ill attempts to remove the chain Vyrissa heard a faint knock on the door. She quickly jumped onto the bed and with a slight squeak to her voice said “come in.” A small serving girl entered the room with a washtub and sponge. “Master says you must freshen up if you are to dine with him tonight” she said as she placed the items down with a bow. She than produced a small bell out of her pocket and placed it on the nightstand as she took the empty tray of food. “If you need me, just ring the bell and I will be here in five heart beats.” The girl gave another bow and graciously left the room. Confused by the events that just took place Vyrissa slowly bathed herself in the warm water.
As soon Vyrissa was finished bathing she heard another faint knock, she answered and the serving girl entered again. This time she had a beautiful evening gown of lavender and pearls. Vyrissa’s mouth fell slightly open at the sight of it, she thanked the girl and put the dress on.
“I will take my leave of you now, the Master will be here shortly” the serving girl said as she left yet again. It was only a couple of minutes before the “Master” came and to Vyrissa’s surprise, she saw a man in his mid-thirties with dark blond hair and an honest face…the same honest face that she saw kissing another women.

top

Kail
General Ducatis opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out. Instead he just gave Vyrissa a steady look and tried to stop the laughter from bursting out. As he stood there struggling against the desire to laugh, causing him to make a weird face every now and then, Vyrissa gave him an evil look.
“Pardon me m’lady”, he said in a low and weak voice. Had he tried to speak any higher he might just have failed to keep the laughter within. “Pardon my behaviour, but you just look so.. humorous.”
Vyrissa sighed. “Do you have any idea how difficult it is to try and put on a dress while you are chained to a piece of furniture?”, she replied in an angry tone. “Not to mention my wrist is rather sore by now.”
The general could not hold it in any longer and thus he let out a hearty laugh. “My apologies, m’lady”, he said, still laughing. “I told them to chain you by your foot and not your hand. Someone must have made a mistake somewhere.” Only chuckling now, he took out a small key from one of his pockets and unlocked the chain that had caused her trouble. He then took the chain, rolled it up like a whip and threw it on the floor which caused a loud clinking noise. The general then turned his back at the young woman to allow her to put her dress on correctly. Once she announced that she was done he turned to her again and stood there for a while, admiring the way she looked.
“’Twould be my guess that you might want an explanation to all of this, and I shall give you one.” He motioned for her to sit down on the bed and she did so while he walked around the room, lighting a few candles. A deep breath and then he began.
“I have not been around much, and no doubt have my servants whispered and snickered a lot.” Ducatis gave her a small smile before continuing. “I apologise for that. Indeed, I should have been around more, but I have a reason for it.”
“Being with other women?”, Vyrissa snapped at him. To her delight the general blushed briefly.
“Ah, yes, you saw that scene in town. It is not entirely what you may think. To make a long story immensely short, I was looking for something and she, that woman you saw me with, helped me find it. She is an old acquaintance of mine.” The middle-aged man gritted his teeth. “No, Ducatis, do not beautify it.” A sigh escaped his lips. “To be fully honest, she is an old love of mine. When she found what I was looking for I was so filled with joy that I embraced her, and she took it the wrong way, and that would be where you saw us.” The general lowered his head. “I was at fault there, and I beg your forgiveness.”
“And the chain?”, Vyrissa asked in a toneless voice.
“I was afraid you would run away before I even had a chance to explain things to you.” Slowly he raised his head and looked at her. “You see, I..”
“Enough.”, she almost yelled. “This is..”
She became quiet as he walked up to her and put two of his fingers on her lips. Then he kneeled down before her and took a small box out of one of his pockets, opened it and revealed a golden ring, adorned with strains of silver and a diamond. He looked into her eyes and smiled.
“Will you marry me?”, he asked in a very low voice high enough for her to hear but low enough so the servants eavesdropping would not. She looked at Ducatis, then the ring and then at the general again and smiled.
“Give me a night to consider it”, she replied.
General Ducatis made a sad face but nodded and got up on his feet, bowed to her and then left the room, leaving her alone.
“Perhaps”, she said quietly to herself. “Perhaps things might get interesting.”

top

Sarad
As soon as Ducatis had left, she furiously threw the beautiful golden ring as far away from her as she could. How could he think she would believe such horrible lies? Of course, men often lie to get out of akward situations such as admitting to having another lover, but couldn’t he be a little better at it? Hah, if he thought she would accept his proposal now he was pitifully mistaken.
She sighed, and sat back down on the lush bed. She wanted to cry, to desperately believe that she had lost the love of her life, but she could not. Squeezing her eyes tightly together, she willed tears to fall, but her eyes remained dry, like a dammed waterfall. Not exactly knowing where to go from there, she thought about her life before the General asked to marry her. Of course, he had not, until then, actually asked her. Her father had made the decision for her, as was the case in all high-born girls. She remembered the horrible tale her mother had told her when she was little. About the upper-class girl who had run away and married for love, picking her own mate. They lived happily for a few years, then walked in on him with another woman. Now she had nowhere to turn, she would not go back to her husband, and her family would not take her back. She lived out her days working as a washerwoman boarding in a private’s house.
Would that really be so bad? Could she not leave and find a man who would love her for her? Was Ducatis really telling the truth? She had no idea, and decided it best to give her mind a break, and get a good night’s sleep. She would think about it more in the morning, but until then she thought no more of the General, or the washerwoman. She dreamt of clouds and magic, beautiful animals and generous peoples.

top

Rafale
Vyrissa awoke to a startling cry. She stretched her arms.
"Whats this?" she thought to herself. "The chain is gone?"
What was going on? Then she remembered what woke her. A scream. She bolted out of bed and threw on a robe. It was too dark to see her way, stumbling she found the door and opened it.
A pageboy bolted past the door, too fast for Vyrissa to grab. Muttering she entered the hallway and shut her door. The hallway was brightly lit. So bright in fact, that she had to partially cover her eyes so that she could see. It was nice to be able to walk around again. When she reached the next corridor she saw a little girl standing there looking around.
"What is going on?" Vyrissa asked the girl. "I saw someone running down the hallway."
"You dont know?" replied the girl. "Emperor 'Zakath has just arrived. He is looking for a Field Marshall for one of his regiments, and General Ducatis was his top pick."
"And the scream I heard?" Vyrissa inquired.
"Ohh," the girl giggled. "that was my little brother, he broke his arm last night, and the doctor just set the bone. He's such a baby."
Vyrissa breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn’t a big issue, some servant kid broke his arm, and the General was going off to war. She turned and headed back to her room.
About thirty paces towards her room she froze. War? The general was going to war? She hadn't heard anything about a war. But that was no surprise, Vyrissa stayed out of politics. And now the man whom she was to marry could very well die in the heat of battle. This truly brought out the mixed emotions in her. Did she want to marry him? Was he lying before? He was awfully handsome when she saw him.
She walked back to her room. As she lay on the bed, she thought to herself about what to do in the morning. This would be a dilemma. If she were to marry him then she would have to tell him so before he left for the front line. If not, then she had nothing to worry about, he would die and she would have another suitor chosen for her. Her eyes grew heavy and she fell back asleep.

top

Mortigan
Her dreams were strange. A soft music of unknown origin played in the background, drowning out rest. Even as she slept, and dreamed, she felt as if energy was being sucked from her. In her dream state she looked down and noticed a knife in her hand. She felt surprise. Not that she was holding a knife, but that she felt no surprise at holding it. It seemed natural.
She woke with a start. Her face was burning, and her body clenching up with unimaginable pain. She screamed out at the suddenness of it.
“Now you cry out, we may be getting somewhere after all.”
Trying to focus through the fog of pain, she realizes she is no longer in her room. She also was no longer dressed in her gown. Quickly trying to cover her nakedness with an instinctive drive for modesty, she realised both her hands were bound, as were her feet. How could she have been taken here without waking?
“Now that the pain seems to be finally getting to you, perhaps you would like to answer the question. Who sent you?”
She still couldn’t focus on her inquisitor. The light was inadequate to see the room she was in.
“I... don’t understand... where am I?” she asked, surprised at the rasping in her voice.
Suddenly there was a commotion behind the man before her, and a voice spoke softly, but full of power.
“I am not pleased Klanstine, she has been in your care for two weeks now, and you have yet to get any answers from her. Perhaps you are growing soft in your old age.”
“My apologies my Emperor. She has been surprisingly resilient to pain. I don’t understand myself. I do believe I have finally broken through some of her restraint however, she has finally started to speak.”
“Do not disappoint me. You have two days to find out who she is, who sent her, and her reason for killing one of my foremost generals. If you do not produce answers by then, I shall have to test new inquisitors to take your position. You will be their test.”
She heard the man leave, even as she felt her inquisitor shudder, yet her mind was elsewhere.
Two weeks? Killed a general? There was some mistake, something she didn’t understand.
“Well you heard Kal Zakath my dear. Two days. Believe me, in two days you will beg me to listen to your answers.

top

Jhelya
Her head spun, her breath ragged in her chest. What was going on? Where was she? Was that man truly Kal Zakath, Emporer of boundles Mallorea? She shut her eyes and tried to tell herself it was only a dream. Her breathing eased and slowly she opened her eyes, a man stood over her looking down her bound body. His eyes seemed to glow beneath the hood of his black robe.
“I will begin again, child. I do so hope that you continue to resist my attempts. I have been wanting to try some new things,” a raspy voice told her.
“Please, whoever you are, I don’t know anything,” she could hear her voice crack as she spoke, her throat dry as a desert. “I am to marry General Ducatis...” she tried to explain.
“Lies,” her interrogator cut her off, “The General is dead, the dagger that pierced his heart was found in your hands. Tell me who sent you.”
Vyrissa felt the tears come at last. Dead! Dagger, in my hand, her mind raced. Flashes of red, before her stood her husband to be. She lay in her bed, sweat dripping from her body adding to her already soaked sheets. Beside the General stood a man wearing squared spectacles, he seemed to be speaking to the general. She struggled to hear what he was saying.

“My Lord General, she seems to be coming around, but please sir, for her health, try to keep it brief, she needs her rest. I will be outside, after you have spoken with her, I will give her more of the potion” The man turned and left the room.
She sighed slowly in relief. It was only a dream. She smiled weakly.
“Easy my lady,” his voice sounded with concern, “You have been poisoned. I have my full resources working to find out by whom. No my lady do not speak, save your energy you are not out of the woods yet.”
She closed her eyes for a moment, only just a dream. God’s be praised. What a dream. She opened her eyes, wanting to see the man she decided to marry...

“Good,” the raspy voice announced, “I thought you almost dead. Now who is your master?”
She looked into the eyes of her tormentor, those deep, dark, soulless eyes...
“I think I might know what will turn the trick.” He spoke rather gleefully. “ You see child, in the Jungles of Gahandahar, there is a plant...” his words drifted off .Her strength gone she again drifted off into oblivion.
Visions of her youth passed through her mind. Her father holding her up to pick fresh, red apples from the trees in his orchard. Her mother holding her hand as they walked through the market place, looking for a gift for her older sister that was to be married. Holding her younger brother as he cried after he broke his arm, climbing a trellis to pick her a new bloomed flower. Colours swirled and vibrated, memories mixed with fantasies... Voices sounded close to her, she tried to concentrate on their sounds.

“I am sorry, my general, there is no improvement. Her heartbeat is erratic, and she still holds the fever,” a voice spoke softly nearby.
“Doctor, I swear by the One eye of Torak,” A man’s voice, somehow familiar, responded, “If she does not recover from this, you will wish that the Grolims took your heart for their rituals!”
Darkness came...

top

Mortiris
Tears streamed down Vyrissa’s face as she suddenly came out of the blackness. Klanstine looked over her nervously.
‘Why haven’t you broken yet bitch, if you do not talk in the next few hours Zakath will…’ Fury and nerves suddenly made Klanstine snap, as if his mind could not take the pressure he suddenly ran from the room screaming. It took the young hostage time to realize what happened, her tormenter had fled leaving her tied to a very uncomfortable table, now was her chance to get out of this nightmare. As she began trying to think of how to free her hands everything faded to black.

General Ducatis rose from his chair beside her bed, he looked as if he had been wrestling with a bear, his eyes were sandy and his clothes heavily wrinkled. ‘My dearest, please say that you have returned to me.’ Vryissa tried to speak but all that came out as a low mumble. General Ducatis put his head close to her mouth to try and understand her whispering. As Vyrissa left consciousness, the General quickly ran to get the doctor.

Must untie my hands. Vyrissa’s mind was racing. Any moment Kal Zakath would come and find her. The knife. She looked towards her hand and there was the dagger that she had been so shocked at seeing. She began the slow process of sawing a rope with very little leverage. How the knife got in her hand was not important, all that mattered was that she escaped before she was put to death.

top

Alviara

The seconds ticked away as Vyrissa slowly cut away the rope that bound her. She could the feel the strain on her muscles shuddering through her entire body making her feel even more exhausted, but her eyes never strayed an inch from the dark doorway and her mind drove her on relentlessly. As the last fibre fell to the floor, Vyrissa sighed with relief and pain and massaged her wrists slowly, and then reached forward to free her legs. A new sense of hope now infused her and she felt like she actually might escape from the warped reality that she now existed in. Untying her legs, she quickly scanned the room for her gown, which was lying crumpled in a corner. She rose unsteadily, clutching for support on to one of the tables, and made her way to it. Still holding the knife, she picked up the soiled, lavender gown…but suddenly she stiffened. Frozen in her position, she could hear muffled footsteps making their way to this room. Her face went grim and she clenched the knife with fury. Determined, she whirled around with her knife drawn, to face her enemy.

General Ducatis hurried down the corridor, the doctor only an inch away behind him. He made no effort to mask the concern and worry etched on his face, for somehow, he didn’t know why, this woman seemed to have something about her that drew him closer. As he came nearer to the door, his eyes widened in shock as he noticed that the bed was empty. Vyrissa was gone. His throat contracted with fear and confusion…but then he noticed a figure standing in the corner of the room, clutching some old bed-sheets in it’s hands. It was her…she was safe…and conscious. He breathed with relief and quickening his pace, entered the room.

Her dark hair colliding with her face, Vyrissa swirled around and faced her torturer, returning with another hard-faced man. For a moment, when her eyes met Klanstine’s soulless ones, she felt fear bloom inside her, but her will to live and her courage drove it out and filled her with boundless fury. Klanstine’s mouth widened in surprise and he glanced fervently at the knife in Vyrissa’s hand. “Did you think you could escape?” He rasped.

General Ducatis frowned. “Vyrissa? What are you doing?” He repeated. There was something odd about the way she was behaving. Why in Torak’s name was she holding a knife acting like she was ready to pounce on him any moment? Vyrissa smiled slowly. But…the smile was not of pleasure…but one of pure complete hate.
“I am stronger than you think, Klanstine. I can fight my way through this,” she said. Wha..? Klanstine? Fight her way through what? General Ducatis’ mind was racing.
“Vyrissa…it’s me…don’t you recognise me? Dear, I think you need some rest…maybe you should get back in bed?” He raised his arm towards her, as if guiding her to lie down.
“No!” Vyrissa shrieked, slashing the knife through the air, narrowly missing his hand. “I will not be held your prisoner anymore. I will not be bound and gagged as you wish.”
"Vyrissa!” General Ducatis exclaimed, but then controlling himself he said, “You are tired and weak, get some rest.” He tried to reach out to her again but she drew back and growled,
“I’m warning you, Klanstine, you try to touch me again and I will rip your heart out and sacrifice it to Torak myself.” General Ducatis blinked and started slowly looking around the room for something to pacify her with.

Vyrissa watched as Klanstine surveyed the room, looking for something…possibly a weapon to use against her. This is your chance, a voice inside her head told her. He is distracted right now…you now have the weapon and the time…finish him and his follower…Not wasting a moment, Vyrissa attacked. Lunging at Klanstine, they both tumbled to the floor, making the second man hit his head on the door frame and be knocked unconscious. Fighting for her life, she felt Klanstine’s hand on her wrist, holding the dagger away from him. Suddenly, she was on the floor and Klanstine was on top of her. Her head hit the ground with force, making her feel dazed…she felt Klanstine loosen his grip on her wrist. Using this, she moved her arm and felt the knife blade slice through something thick. Vyrissa was finding it difficult keeping her eyes open. Images swam across her vision. Klanstine’s evil face filled her sight…but somehow he now looked a bit like General Ducatis. In fact, the more she tried to look, the more she saw his honest face looking back at her. Confusion swept through her mind as her vision blurred. What had she done? Was that Klanstine…General Ducatis? How? Wha-…
Her mind went blank.

top

Shinara
It felt as if she had just drifted back to her body. It felt wrong. Those strange dreams felt wrong. Everything felt wrong. Where was Ducatis? she thought. Suddenly she realised she couldn’t open her eyes. What is happening to me? Vyrissa panicked and tried to drag her eyelids open. For a while she gasped for air in panic. Then she opened her eyes and almost immediately something tacky dripping on her eyes forced her to close those again.
“With us again I see, you murderous bitch,” someone muttered and suddenly Vyrissa’s mind exploded in excruciating pain. Someone else entered and whispered something to the man who had spoken earlier. She felt like drifting back to the world of dreams.
Someone poured water over her face and proceeded to loosen the ropes around her wrists. Just a moment ago she hadn’t known about ropes around her wrists. Vylissa felt like crying. Shy shuddered in anguish but no tears came. Suddenly the man who had spoken to hear earlier spat on her face and said,
“Straighten your spine when you are being addressed by the Emperor!” Vyrissa tried to do as she was told but she couldn’t. “Pardon me mighty emperor. I’ve strained joints on her legs and arms. I will drag her up,” rough voice said. Someone pulled her to sitting position and threw water over her. Slowly she began to regain her vision and saw an imposing looking man before her. Something struck her face. “Lower your eyes before your Emperor,” already familiar voice spat to her face. She did so immediately and once again, something dripped over her eyes. Vylissa began to realise it was her blood. Chaos in her mind, could her dreams be real? If only she could understand. If only someone could explain. Maybe then she could explain it to the man standing before her.
Without thinking who she was talking to, she asked the emperor. “Is Ducatis alive?” There was no answer. She asked again. “What has happened to me?” No answer. Losing her mind she screamed. “What have I done?”
After long silence the man before her asked her if she honestly couldn’t recall what had happened. Shaking her head almost made Vylissa lose consciousness again, it hurt so bad. The man before her cleared his throat and briefly told Vylissa what had occurred.
“You were to marry my General Ducatis. I’ve been told that soon after your arrival, you posed sickness and then murdered General Ducatics. This was supposed to look like fever madness and make you innocent. However, my staff did not believe you and now you’ve spent weeks in dungeons of General Ducatis’ keep. You have been tortured and today’s your last chance for redemption.”
The man with rough voice struck her again and spoke to the Emperor. “Her condition is normal. She can’t remember order of things that happened. She might not be able to say anything to change what we already have wrung out of her,” the man with rough voice turned towards Vylissa and muttered quiet enough for only her to hear. “No confession. It’s unnatural. Two weeks and she hasn’t confessed killing a bug. Witch!”
“I will send a word of her fate shortly. You have served me well Klastine,” Vylissa heard the Emperor say.

top

Fieron
“Thank Torak! Her fever’s broken. Vylissa? Vylissa? Are you awake?”
Someone shook Vylissa gently, and she opened her eyes. A woman, beautiful if not for the dark birthmark marring her cheek, looked extremely relieved.
“Where… where is the Emperor? And Klastine?” Vylissa asked hoarsely.
“The Emperor left a few days ago,” the woman explained, “And who is this- Ducatis! Get back to bed! What do you think…?”
Vylissa did not listen to her words, feeling confused. Ducatis is alive? But… Klastine said he was dead! And I…
“Vylissa? Are you all right?” Vylissa focussed her eyes on the man. Dark blonde hair, deep brown eyes… But the honesty in his face was gone, replaced by a haunted, haggard look.
“Ducatis?” Vylissa whispered.
“Yes, it’s me, dear.” He clasped her hand tightly. A faint smile hovered on his lips. Behind him, the woman scowled her disapproval, but said nothing. “How’re you feeling?”
“My… my whole body hurts. And I can’t move.”
A rather sheepish look crossed Ducatis’ face.
“We had to er… restrain you after you attacked me.” He gestured at her body, and she looked. Wide strips of padded leather had been used to strap her to the bed.
“What happened? I was being tortured by Klastine… and the Emperor was interrogating me. They… they said you were killed! By me!”
“I’m alive dear.” A wry smile touched his lips. “Though when you cut me pretty badly.” Ducatis carefully propped her up with some pillows. His abdomen was wrapped by bandages, and from the winces he made every time he moved, it was clear the wound had not healed. “Someone poisoned you… it must be a Nyissan drug, because you were hallucinating.”
Someone knocked at the door, and the woman opened it. A soldier, dressed in a red tunic, entered, and saluted smartly.
“Corporal Lamnos reporting, sir.”
“Yes, Lamnos?” asked Ducatis wearily, turning to look at the soldier.
“There has been another raid, sir.”
“Any casualties?”
“Five soldiers killed, another thirty wounded. Forty enemy Karands were killed. We managed to repel their attack though.” Ducatis closed his eyes for a moment or two, then opened them. He smiled apologetically at Vylissa.
“Sorry, dear, but I must go.”
“It’s all right…” Vylissa murmured, feeling relieved. Everything started sinking in. Ducatis was not dead!
“But Ducatis!” the woman protested, but was cut off.
“No, sister, I must. If it’s any consolation I’ll be sitting in my office.”
Ducatis’ sister scowled again.
“Then I’m coming with you. And you aren’t stopping me.” With that, the woman swept out of the room. Ducatis sighed, nodded at Vylissa again and left, followed by the soldier. The door shut.

top

Czrel
Her throat was parched and her lips, cracked. She needed a drink of water, but the servants were not present. The clear glass jug on the small table by her bed was empty and the goblet was toppled over. If she wanted a drink, she had to remove the leather pieces that were locking her to the bed frame. She struggled to break free with no avail.
"Hello sweetheart." A sickly male voice suddenly spoke, much to the woman's horror. "Had a good rest?"
"Who are you?" Vylissa asked a figure outside the window in a trembling voice.
"I see," the figure chuckled and began to climb into the room. "So Synthe not only brings illusions, it causes amnesia." In the dim moonlight, she could see a metallic mask worn under the man's hood.
"What have you done to me?" The woman stuttered.
"Synthe." The man smiled weakly. "You took my new found drug, Synthe."
Vylissa was almost in tears. Ducatis was right, for she had taken a drug. "What have I ever done to you?"
The man fell silent and stared at her. Then, without any hesitation, he pulled over his dark, brooding hood, uncovering a hideous appearance. As if that was not scaring the woman enough, he tore off the mask that was shielding the left of his face.
"This is what you've caused me to suffer!"
Perhaps it was a fire that had cause the left of his face to be utterly mangled. Perhaps it was lacerated by acids. Perhaps it was the drug, Synthe, itself.
"No..." The bounded woman shook her head feverishly. "I've never done anything harmful to you..."
The Nyissan man did not answer. He carefully put his mask back on for fear of causing anymore unnecessary pain. Then he sat on the bed's edge and leaned towards Vylissa. From there, she could see that he was pale, almost white as a ghost. His thin pinkish lips were almost lifeless as he spoke.
"It doesn't matter, my dearest." His long frail fingers reached out to caress the woman's body. Although he seemed harsh, his touch was soft and gentle. He slide his right hand up from her thigh to her breast then to her face.
"I cannot blame you for what I have brought upon myself." The man continued while looking longingly into Vylissa's eyes. "All in the name of love Vylie, all in the name of love."
The woman was stilled stunned. She had no idea that this man existed before, let alone him having feelings for her. But she took pity on his ruined face. "Love?"
"A pity you failed to kill that bastard." The Nyissan growled in rage.
"You meant Ducatis?"
"I've sacrificed so much to design a drug to disillusion you so that you can finally end that dog's life during the wedding."
Parts of the puzzle were beginning to fit together inside Vylissa's mind. Although she still did not know the true identity of the Nyissan, she had no doubt tried to kill the General. She was about to ask the man his name when loud, hurried footsteps shuffled down the hallway. Quickly, the Nyissan man got up and grinned at the helpless woman. As the door opened, he darted outside the window, disappearing into the dark cloak of the Mallorean night.

top

Sarad
A servant scurried into the room, bringing with him a fresh jug full of water and a small decanter of wine. He removed the old jug and replaced the goblet on the table.
“The Master bids you to drink this, the doctors think it will strengthen your blood and help you to fight off any ill effects that remain.” He filled the goblet and held it up to her lips. Vylissa drank greedily, slowly assuaging the aching in her throat.
“Has the General left for Karanda yet?” Vylissa asked him.
“I have not seen his escort leave yet m’lady, I assume his chamberlain is packing for him at this very moment,” he replied, replacing the goblet on the small table.
Vylissa was scared of the strange man’s return and as the servant headed for the door, she began to think of a way to get out of the mansion. Maybe he will allow me to accompany him she thought to herself, fresh air might do me well after all.
“Tell the General I wish to see him before he leaves,” Vylissa yelled after the servant before he exited the room. After but a few moments, the Ducatis ran in.
“What’s wrong?” he asked frantically.
Taken aback by his concern she decided it best to ask him now. “I wish to leave with you,” she blurted out.
“What? No, of course not. This is a battle not a vacation, and you have but recently regained control of yourself. I would not risk it.”
“The doctors said that fresh air might do me good,” she lied, “and plus, your sister is going, is she not? She can watch over me.” She flashed him her smile; the one that never failed on men.
As she predicted, it worked and his eyes softened a bit. He walked up to the side of her bed and sat down. He kissed her forehead lightly and grudgingly allowed her to go, but only if she promised to stay with Almara, his sister, the entire trip.
“You are not to leave her side, do you promise?” he asked her.
“Of course, dearest, I would not want to overdo myself. I will not leave her side.”
He nodded and rose to leave. He stopped at the door and turned to smile before continuing out and calling for a servant to make the necessary arrangements.

top