'Home' Again

[Draken]

Whether it was midnight or closer to morning he could not tell. Black clouds blocked the moonrays entirely leaving only a slight silver patch in the sky with no stars or any other kind of light to accompany it. The flight back was hard- especially after the winds picked up. Thunder roared in the distance. With black wings spread wide, the winds finally forced Draken to land softly on the ground several yards from the great castle's gates- within limping distance. To his luck, a sheet of rain came pelting down across the earth like a swarm of locusts.


After trudging through the mud, basically one-legged, he went to the small room Osirus provided him. He discarded of the bloodied pants and replaced them with clean linen pants and a shirt while searching for his rations he was supposed to be provided. He leaned over a basin of fresh water, cleaning himself of blood, vomit, and mud, then studied his own reflection. What did that dream mean? How am I going to explain another failure to Osirus? Where's my food? A sense of confusion came over him again, as it did before he left the desert. Draken tore himself away from the basin. At least he could satisfy one of his needs; he always kept some backup food hidden in his 'matress', which was just a lump of hay and a blanket. He reached in, grabbing a small bottle of ale, a cup, and rock-solid bread. First, he poured in the ale then put the bread in. After a few minutes, it softened into an edible, soggy sponge. Usually, it burned his throat, but in this weather it was perfect for keeping warm. If only tasted better...


At this hour, Osirus should either be sleeping or be preparing for the quickly-upcoming battle. Draken came into the throne room quietly, even though there was no one visible, and shut the door behind him. He learned from his mistake last time. And like last time, he had forgotten about the King's fireplace again. This was all becoming some horrible dream itself, or perhaps some bad deja-vu. Draken deftly tossed a few logs on the dead fireplace and took a few minutes to get a small ember going, but it quickly became a roaring blaze. Draken's eyes transfixed on the floor below the flickering flames, lost in thought and enjoying the warmth of the flames.

[Queen Marcelle]

Though it may have seemed to Draken that he was all alone in the Dark King's throne room, he couldn't have been more mistaken. Sitting on the garish throne adjacent to Osirus' was none other than his wife, Queen Marcelle, clearly distraught; a grim frown was blemishing her lovely face, and her long nails were digging into the stone armrests with enough force to leave small imprints. Her icy blue eyes, normally blazing with insanity, seemed caught between worry and anger.

Not even a half hour ago, she was approached by the newly inducted General Takashe, who bore an unsettling message from Lord Eltana Remarque. The director of the Blood Chamber had contacted him through a mental link he had established, he told her, and went on to relay the effeminate man's message: the confrontation with Laties had gone horribly awry. Eltana was delivering the message while scurrying off the scene, he told her, so he delivered the key points quickly: Prophet Baphomet was dead, the Odium Sword had been destroyed, and the Temple of Nocens Atrum was in the process of collapsing.

But that wasn't the worst news: Laties was being controlled by something that claimed to be a fragment of Nocens Atrum himself. That last bit of information left the Queen completely dumbfounded. Lacking the ability to even give the man a response, she trudged her way to the throne room and had been sitting in there ever since, her consternation hidden in the secrecy of the darkness. The woman was contemplating waking her husband, and decided she would eventually do so, but not before she cleared her mind and regained her composure.

The sound of the door opening immediately broke Marcelle from her contemplation. Noticing that the person who had just entered was not her lover, she narrowed her eyes into slits and gritted her teeth, quickly returning to her malevolent self. But she said nothing, choosing to watch the man in silence as he headed over to the fireplace and started to get a fire going. The roaring flames cut through the darkness like a knife, revealing features of both Draken and the Queen. Marcelle's infuriated expression was illuminated by the hellfire, making her look frighteningly demonic.

It didn't take her long to recognize the boy as her husband's page. Regardless of who he was, no one was permitted in the throne room without Osirus' permission, especially after he had gone to bed. "...I could very well have you hung by your entrails and paraded throughout the city for being in here, boy," she spat venomously, her tone lacking its usual strength and fury.

[Draken]

The sudden voice broke his trance and quickly turned around to face the Queen. His heart throbbed quickly in his chest, his healing wound painfully pulsed with it. Panic and fright arose within him as he took a step back. His mind raced to react and search for the right words. Of course what came out was, "What are you doing here?!" in a rather trembling but demanding tone.

[Queen Marcelle]

The Queen seemed caught between annoyance and amusement with the intruder's reply. Part of her noticed how on edge and frightened the boy was and relished it with sadistic pleasure, and another was screaming out at her to rip his throat out for taking such a strong tone with her. Had Osirus been in the room with her, she knew full well he would have killed the impudent fool by now.

Crossing her shapely legs and fixing her steely gaze on Draken, she decided to suppress her first instinct and take another tact, "I suggest that you watch your tone around me; after all, your life hangs in the balance, and I am the one who will decide exactly what shall become of it, understood?"

She had to get her mind off the dark news that had been delivered to her earlier, and knew just how to do that. Not wanting or caring for a reply, she gave him the ultimatum, "Since I am in a somewhat merciful mood right now, we're going to play a little game: I'm allowing you the chance to convince me that you have good reason for being in here without my husband's approval. Go on, reach out to me. You have five minutes."

[Draken]

Draken wanted to throw himself in the fire after realizing he said that. After her proposition he kneeled before her and hesitated on what he was about to say. Mentioning his death and a time limit, however, made him nervous. It only made it harder to grope the right words to speak, or even to speak them. With trembling hands struggling to keep him raised above the ground in a groveling position he made direct eye contact as he spoke in a more careful tone.

"I-I was looking for him- Osirius. I'm his page. I have news for him..." Draken gazed at Marcelle's expression, which seemed unchanged or unreadable to him. He didn't know what else he should reveal to her to spare his life, but he wanted to spare as many of the details of his failure as possible. "I- I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude."

[Queen Marcelle]

Marcelle raised herself from her seat with great force and looked askance at her husband's page. "King Osirus," she corrected him, her voice no longer playful, instead flaring with unbridled wrath. "You would dare address the GOD of this land so irreverently? You should be thankful that I can distinguish stupidity from insubordination, else your fate would be sealed. Disrespect is something I cannot, and shall not abide. And it would greatly behoove you to remember that. Do I make myself perfectly clear?"

The imposing woman drew back into her seat, a pinch calmer but still just as annoyed. Granted she would have loved to rip her razor-sharp nails into the boys throat, but there were more important matters at hand. Besides, the boy had news for her husband. And he wouldn't be able to deliver it if he were dead, after all. Marcelle let out an exasperated sigh and rubbed her temples, contemplating how she would deal with the ignorant little fool.

She looked up at Draken, once again digging her nails into the armrests of her throne,"Tell me the news, I'll deliver it to my husband momentarily. Whether I tell him about this great intrusion is wholly dependent on the importance of your message. Go on, start talking. I'm losing my patience."

[Draken]

As Marcelle stood so abruptly, Draken stumbled backwards from his kneeling position and cowered like a dog. "Y-Yes, Queen!" he said, before she addressed him again and demanded his report. It would be to his advantage if he didn't have to tell Osirus face-to-face, however, he never got to know the Queen and he was taking the premonition that she could be just as dangerous. Draken glanced around nervously. A lie might save him, but he would surely be killed for it later. The truth would be risky- "The assassination attempt failed, my Queen. I chased Adrian to the Gurella, but he got away..." Draken blurted out before thinking too long on it. The truth, no matter how brutal would be easier to break to Osirius because of their last encounter.

[heavensinger]

How have got here?... The weathers rough... Can't wait to see him... I need to trim these nails... I wonder were that knife is...?

Her skin was sallow. An off grey, like fresh plaster. The shadows of her skin, which were usually bright blue- were a grayish blue. Miao walked, no she stumbled across the muddy fields- she had long since lost the strength to fly. Blood ran down her side, the stump which was once her right arm seemed to glow with bloody fury.
The wind whistled past her, but she had long since lost the will to fight it- instead she just floated along with her flesh freezing from the biting cold and as the minutes passed, her tendrils started to return into there normal, bland blond locks.

Outside the throne room, a pair of footsteps ran past. Then another, then another till around ten people were running outside past the door. The people were all mumbling, trying to restrain there voices- as not to awake the king or queen. But it was obvious they were all panicking, rushing to get to the castle gates. They didn't even get there. Miao had already arrived at the castles door. The wind was rushing through the corridors as she leaned against the doors frame. "Hello..." She feebly mumbled as she slid down the wooden frame.
The servants, in there brown attire, rushed to her side and stared at the bloody stump which was her elbow.

[Queen Marcelle]

A rather unsettling silence followed the assassin's terse and nervous explanation. Generally she knew much about her husband's doings and played an active part in helping him. But sometimes he chose not to tell her some things, and she had no problem with that. After all, her husband was the God of Alyssus, no, the whole world. Even though she did not know about her husband's plot to assassinate this Adrian fellow, she was still furious at the boy for failing him.

The woman stepped forward, the mad gleam her icy blue eyes always held becoming more evident by each passing second. "Not much of an assassin, are you, if you can't handle one simple assignment? Failure is not an option for someone charged with directly enforcing the Dark King's will. I will deliver the news to him, boy. But heed my advice: if I were you I'd make best of this morning, for it will likely be your last if my husband isn't feeling merciful."

Before she could continue to scold the boy, her ears registered the sound of many footsteps outside the front door. An annoyed growl escaping her lips, she gave Draken a nasty look before striding to the door and pushing it open, her beautiful face contorted in unbridled fury and insanity.

"What the hell is going on out here!?" the woman snapped, grabbing a servant by the arm and pulling him toward her.

"One of the King's servants, milady -- she's been gravely injured!" the servant jumbled out, taken back by the Queen's forceful yank.

Marcelle let out a louder, more aggravated growl, then stormed down the hallway in pursuit of the servants. Upon reaching the castle gates she stopped abruptly, flaming gaze fixed on the injured Miao like a hawk ready to gouge the eyes out of an unsuspecting victim. She recognized the girl as her husband's personal servant, but unfortunately that didn't make her any more compassionate to the girl's predicament.

"Would someone kindly explain to me why the entire castle is up and about over one insignificant, wounded peon!?" roared Marcelle, gritting her pearly whites in rage. "Salvage her valuables, throw her to the jackals and go back to your quarters! I won't have my husband losing precious sleep over some worthless wench!"

[heavensinger]

The servants hesitated for a moment, caught between the dieing Miao, the intrigue of seeing Miao turning back into her human form and the tug of pity as the females eyes flickered between consciousness. A maid had already fainted at the thick stench of blood hanging in the air, it was all around and Miao, with her dull blond locks and eyes- half way between alien-like, with a blue iris and a smokey grey cloud above it- was caught in the middle.
When two males finally lifted her to her feet, Miao's eyes flashed open. "Please... milady.... Listen...."

Darkness fell about the halls like fog. All the tapestries from here to the great hall had to be washed now, to remove the iron stench. But around Miao, there was still a group of five- the rest seeing to the fainted maid (who had only just divulged that she was pregnant with the milker boys child).
"Milady... Arioles... I met a man there...." Between words, Miaos head swayed violently from side to side, semi conscious with eyes that couldn't focus on the queen- she wrestled the words out. "There was a death in Arioles- I killed a child.... But... Not meaningless. I met man.... who is a danger to both the king and the land around the castle... A bandit, thief, rogue, traveller..." Miao had long ago started to trip over words, like her tongue wasn't part of her head, but she still had a fierce determination to remember and divulge his message. "Soon... will meet up with his student. Mr Shou- Purple hair... purple haired man..." Miaos legs buckled and there was a gasp as the men fought to keep Miao standing.

"He will meet with Mr Shou... Send... warrior.... He's serious... King... Warrior... Will die" Miao's head flopped to the side. All she could mumble was "His name... Man With... No Face" and then she blacked out. But the servants had become tense.
"The Man With No Face, milady... He killed a whole legion... On his own..." The group shivered in unison. Trapped. Should they take Miao away? Or wait for the queens response?... Or did what Miao said mean nothing?

[Draken]

For a moment, Draken stood there, stunned. A cold air passed through his lungs and he was instantly reminded of death. He coughed trying desperately to pass the feeling, but it lingered in his throat until he rushed from the throne room and down the corridor opposite of Marcelle. There, he leaned heavily against a window breathing heavily the slightly warmer air of the outdoors. The moon was hidden behind dark clouds and to the east, the sun was just a few hours from rising over the horizon. It was dawn. He had no sleep. Barely any food or drink. He was injured. And today, there was a war to be fought. Osirus would soon wake to rally his troops, and he didn't want to be around when he did or he might execute him right there in front of them all.


He had no desire to go back to that damned desert, even if it meant its demise. Especially not while he was in this condition. What if the Order somehow prevailed? -Osirus would not be in a good mood, then. If Osirus won? That would be a good thing, right? Draken found himself pacing aimlessly about the castle, unfazed by the cold air-death feeling at the moment. What if Osirus won...? Well, it would be a happy time then. And when the Queen told him about my failure... Osirus wasn't one to be taken lightly. If he won the war and heard of Draken's failure, let's face it: Who needs a no-good assassin working for you when you have no enemy?

Draken stopped in his pace. Wh-...Who do I fight for?! Without glance, he lept out the nearest window, his wings taking him airborne towards the desert once again.