Matron's Hollow- Several Miles from the Capital- At the usual meeting place....
It had been too many years since he had lost track of his sister- and several bounty hunters and mercenaries came out empty handed- or dead. It confused him, and angered him, that each time he was so close to retrieving her- something had happened to prevent her from being taken back home to him. And now he and Graetus were tossing in the next set of dead corpses into the Matron River- and not a guard nor person was in sight. This place was stagnant, unknown- and most stayed away from the wilds for fear of an ambush.
But out here, in this small territory- Blaith had made an unknown claim to it with his under ground resistance, and with his cousin Graetus now at his side to help him with the dead- the two corpses of the murdered mercenaries were hoisted into the river.
"That's the third time we had to visit this river this week- is something wrong, Blaith? I mean, I understand the need to be discrete and to kill off those who know too much and come back empty handed- but there has been alot of blood."
Blaith remained quiet as he listened to his cousins's claims, keeping his blue eyes focused on the cold, grey river while his nose released long puffs of trailing white smoke as he breathed.
"I got some... more news about Kella. Someone saw her in Thaedes."
Graetus bristled at this news.
"Thaedes?" Both men went silent as Graetus mulled his over with a frown. "Is she..."
"It's only speculation, but the entire city was decimated." Blaiths' sneer made it evident he didn't wish to talk about it- but then after a long, cold, silent moment, he added, "But then it was noted she was heading south soon after the city had fallen."
Graetus tilted his head. His cousin's disposition spoke more than words.
"So she's alive?"
"Yes, but the Intel I got was from a discrete, military source." Blaith raked a gloved hand through his hair. "It means she's being hounded by those soldiers- like a dog. But I have my best scouts working on it- Yuriche never failed me before."
Graetus nodded, steeling himself for the emotional ambush he knew Blaith would soon be going through, but instead of going off like a firework- he was surprised when his cousin remained reserved.
"Let's get back to the city," Blaith said through a puff of white smoke. "I'll buy you some drinks- then we can head back to Turgall. I've seen enough of this river." And he spat in it's general direction before turning and leading his cousin back into Matron's Hollow.
There was a pub to the south- near Lake Athervann, and it was this pub he frequented a lot. No one knew him as Duke Harmond here, and the shadier sort of men hung out here frequently. It's where he got a few of his recruits, and he found himself itching to get some more. But a few drinks later seemed to have risen his spirits some, but it could not erase his brooding stare as he peered out through the tavern window towards the wisps of snow that were coming down- and soon coming down much harder than before.
Graetus followed Blaith's stare and lifted his mug of ale.
"They say it'll be a long winter this year."
"Looks like Autumn turned to winter already," Blaith replied, and down the rest of his fourth cup of mead, only to order a fifth one while his mind was swimming from the alcohol. He wanted to forget everything, forget the pain, ignore the voices and live back in a world so many years ago...
For now, he clung onto what he believed was Blaith Harmond- but for all he knew it was his parents thoughts, or that of the scared whore he had killed- it was hard to say- but the alcohol affected all of those inside his mind as he continued to look out the window at the snowy world.
A hand, holding a heavy green bottle, arose above a tall patron's head, and with the force of a bear, the man dropped it down. Artemis rolled out of his reach, and the glass shattered on the counter, crumbling into a myriad of pieces. Somebody threw a chair after him, which flew only an inch above his light hair, and hit the other man straight into his face.
The elf bolted towards the door to escape the loud and angry drunkards, gasping for breath, when a big hand grabbed his ankle and pulled it back. He lost his balance and crashed into the ground head-first, painfully grazing the side of his cheek. "Get back and pay, you bastard!" the man shouted. "Or run back to the swines where you belong!" added the tavern keeper, furiously scowling at Artemis's figure, avoiding the man's punches.
Someone else grabbed him by the back of his rugged shirt and tossed him over one of the tables, further towards the door. Artemis landed on the ground with a loud thud, and as he scrambled to his feet, he could feel something warm flowing down onto his lips. With his sleeve, he wiped the blood, streaming from his nose, and kicked his attacker, who got to him, into the head.
Another pair of hands grabbed his shoulders, twisting them into an unnatural position, and picked him up into the air. Somebody opened the door of the inn, letting a cold gust of wind blow a few specks of snow inside, where they melted into water right after.
He was thrown out onto the bar onto the stones in the street. A sharp spike of pain came through his body when he hit the ground, but the men followed, and he had no other choice than to stand up again and keep fighting. It was uncomfortable, standing in the wind only in his shirt, but the cold never bothered him.
Taking a defensive stance when a large man stepped to him, he snarled at the drunkard. An enraged scowl was most likely meant to be a reply... Or a warning for the punch that came after. Artemis covered his face with his right hand, but the man ripped the already damaged glove that covered his hand, and his knuckles, sliding in the hard leather, left a deep scratch on the back of his hand and his wrist.
It was his turn to strike back... The same hand was launched at him with a blinding speed, and hit the man's jaw with a strength far larger than someone as scrawny as the elf would be expected to show. It sled over his skin, and left speckles of blood on it...
A crust of ice formed where Artemis punched the man, and quickly spread, covering half of his face, his neck, and shoulder, completely freezing it. The rogue flinched back, staring at the patron with wide eyes. "F**k." he whispered. I'm in deep shit...
The man fainted right before his eyes, and Artemis only stared as his body, frozen for a large part, collapsed right before his eyes. He was shivering in the wind and snow was landing on his shoulders and head, but it surprisingly wasn't melting when it touched his skin.
As Blaith continued to stare out the window, something drew his attention- and though the scene was something that would draw the crowd- no one but he had observed the fight between the ice mage and drunk. Though he wasn't sure if it was the booze that called him, or one of the unsettled voices inside his head, but without warning, Blaith pushed himself from his chair and stepped outside.
The snow only powdered the ground lightly, and the frost turned the world crisp as his breath streamed from his lips and drifted behind him. He noted Artemis for a time, and said nothing, before his head cocked to one side at the half frozen dead man on the ground. It was a moment later that Graetus stumbled to a halt at Blaith's side.
"Ansgar's name!" his cousin muttered, white breath fluttering from his mouth as he exhaled at the sight.
Blaith only grinned darkly at the fallen figure.
"Close the door, Graetus- we've got another corpse to take to the river."
Artemis threw a distressed glance at the two men. "Get rid of him... Just get rid of him, I'll pay you when I'll have... If you can hide it, I'll pay you, I swear to God I will, just don't let anyone know." he begged them, his voice was shaking with desperation and horror.
This has happened to him far more times than he'd like, and it always got him to problems. Serious problems. He didn't want to die, not yet, but if he'd be hunted like even here, in a small village, how could he possibly get away? Hopefully those two wouldn't tell the guards...
If they would, he'd hate to have two more frozen corpses, but there wasn't any other way to deal with it.
With one of his loose sleeves, tucked into a pair of bracers, he wiped some blood off his face, and hardly blinking, he stared at the two before him.
Graetus closed the door of the inn, snuffing out the yellow light and keeping them all cast in a colder, wintry haze. But as the boy prattled on, and Graetus moved to Blaith's side, Blaith said nothing, examining the dead man at length before murmuring, "You're an ice mage."
"You don't say... I already know that!" Artemis snarled, rubbing the side of his right hand, and smearing blood all over his palm. "And now I'm in deep shit because of it! If you tell anyone... If you tell anyone, you'll end the same. I swear by the name of Ansgar." His body was shaking, shivering in the cold wind with anxiety and fear.
"I don't know you, but I don't want to be chained, I don't want to be executed, and I definitely don't want to be shipped to the camp, so if you keep your mouth shut, you'd make more than one person happy, alright?" he asked hastily, trying to sound intimidating, but it was hard in his poor state.
At his fiery persona, Blaith cracked a grin, and he actually laughed, and kept on laughing, which seemed to make his cousin at his side uncomfortable.
"Quiet your tongue, ice mage," Graetus warned. "Threats will do you no good here." Graetus sneered a little and looked the haggard elf over but Blaith only raised a hand to quiet his cousin.
"No, let him talk," Blaith said, giving an hawk like look and cock of his head towards the mage. "Keep running your mouth, fool, and the entire place will be after you. Are you not aware there's a war?" But even as Blaith asked such a grave question, his dark smile never once left his lips.
"IF you truly valued and feared for your life, you'd stop shaking- unless you want to end up pissing your pants. Now are you going to help us get rid of the body- or remian here for the guards to find it?"
And Blaith turned away from the ice magea nd gestured to Graetus- and his cousin gave a grunt as he picked up the corpse.
"I can't believe we're visiting the river again," Graetus grumbled. "Four times, Blaith." But Blaith seemed to ignore him as the two men began to walk away.
Artemis gave out a shaking sigh as he helped the man pick up the dead drunkard. He was careful not to touch the corpse with bare skin on his right hand, to stop it from freezing over even more. He has calmed down in the meantime, and threw the legs of the dead man over his narrow shoulders.
"Yeah, you're right. I got drunk and didn't realize what shit I'm talking..." he muttered. "And please, would you be so kind and stop calling me mage? It's not too helpful, either." he reminded them. "Leon. Call me Leon." Using one of his many aliases and false identities, he would feel at least a little safer.
"I don't care what you are, it's what you do," Blaith said evenly as they made haste through the town and into the forests. It was swamp like here and unwelcoming, thorns on all sides that were frosted over- but no one was in sight.
"Look, mage, you have to be more wary of your surroundings. We're near the bloody capital where the Grand Duke has waged war on your kind. Do you know how foolish of a thing you've done is?"
"It's not my fault! I can't control it!" Artemis hissed. "I didn't want to freeze him, but I can't control it. There is no possible way to hold it. I touch him, and he freezes, it's so simple." He trudged through the thorns, scratching his leather pants and boots into which those were tucked.
"The only way would be to cut my hand off, but I'm not letting that happen..." he muttered. He needed his right hand, and he'd rather keep it under a glove, than having to completely get rid of it. He almost stepped to a puddle, but the water froze right after his foot got near to its surface, and defrosted right after.
Blaith sneered at the man's whine. He was lucky- if he thought he couldn't control something just through his hands...
Blaith had his entire body to contend with that could suck the life out of anyone- and then insert their mind into his own. His smile turned frosted after a time before he looked out at the river.
"Perhaps you need to just be more careful.."
Ansgar knew no one was truly aware of the power Duke Harmond contained- but did it matter?
Not at this distinct moment as he peered out into the river.
"Well, no one's looking boy. Throw the corpse in."
With a short nod, Artemis tossed the corpse into the stream of the river, showing far more strength than someone of such a scrawny, underfed body would have been expected to. He then quickly wiped his hands into his trousers, and bent over to scoop some snow into them.
It didn't melt when he picked it up, but remained in small crystals even when he rubbed his wounds with it, cleaning the blood off his pale skin. Not a cloud arose from his face when he breathed, unlike the other two.
When he considered himself clean enough, what was only a moment later, he tore a piece of his shirt off, and wrapped it around his hand. He needed a new shirt, and also a new pair of gloves.
"And you must be a mage, too." he spoke silently.
Graetus growled.
"Watch who you're accusing, boy." But as he reached for his sword, Blaith simply held a hand up.
"But of course," Blaith admitted.
Graetus looked perplexed. Blaith never revealed that to anybody. Especially within a few hours of meeting. He was always a calculating and untrusting man.....
What was he going to do next- admit to the child he as a duke?
"But one does not go advertise this sort of thing in Connlaoth," Blaith reminded him gruffly. Especially so close to the capital.
Artemis gave him a bleak smirk of his thin lips. "It's more than obvious, if you know what to look at." he spoke silently. "You didn't call the guards, or anyone else, to arrest me. That makes you either a mage, mercenary, or a bounty hunter that's just going for my head. You understand these complications - and that makes you either a very clever mercenary, or a mage. And I would say it's more of the second, taking into content all that you said and did."
He stepped towards the river. The water was quickly frosting over when his feet drew near to it, and he turned his head around, tilting it with a curious look in his eyes. Those now, unlike the rest of his body, which appeared only on the beginning on adulthood, seemed old and experienced. "Off course, it isn't a matter to be discussed here and now." His voice was cold and crisp, without any hint of emotions. Just like the snow he stood in.
"Yes.. but it seems you have... problems with the law. Or, at least keeping yourself out of the lime light." Blaith took not of his clothing, the gloved hand and peered down at his own. "That much is obvious, even though we drew no attention from the guards." He gave another curious tilt of his head when he lifted his gaze to Artemis.
"Is it your magic you can't control, or your nerves? Seems you have a knack for power, but can you control it?"
"Magic. I can control my nerves, else I would've been dead. It's just this," he picked his right hand up and waved it in front of his face, "that takes no orders at all. It's permanent and it freezes everything. Hell, I can't even touch a girl in a brothel."
He carefully took the glove off and dipped the tips of his fingers in the river. It immediately begun freezing, rapidly fast, and he would have frosted it through if he wouldn't pull it out just a moment later. "You see? No control..." he sighed. "And it's so strong."
Blaith stared at the observation of the mages power. More than one thought, one mind whispering darkly inside his mind. It took him a moment to find himself, but the look he gave the boy was dark. Even still, he smiled.
"Such power should not be taken lightly." And he turned and began to walk away.
This action even confused Graetus, who blinked a few times before jogging after Blaith.
"Blaith?"
Artemis immediately slipped his glove back and wrapped the scrap around the place where his skin was grazed. He flinched back, frowning at Blaith. That man seemed mad.
"Hey, you alright?" he questioned him with suspicion. His hand sled to a dagger at his belt, gripping the handle. Decades of street life made him careful - very careful, especially about strangers. And he never walked unarmed.
Graetus frowned and continued to follow after his cousin.
"Blaith?"
Finally, the duke halted in his tracks, his cloak fluttering to a halt against his boots, but was soon carried by an oncoming wind.
"They say winter come early this year."
Graetus made a face at his cousin's comment, but he said nothing and peered over at Artemis. It was here Blaith finally turned around.
"Do you know how many will probably die of starvation, or cold this winter?"
The question seemed random, but Blaith's face held no mirth of a joke while his blue eyes settled upon Artemis.
"Many." Artemis replied coldly. He has grown up and lived in the streets, and witnessed dozens of beggars and thieves die of the perils of winter... He himself was on the edge of death because of it, and he remembered that very clearly.
His hand clutched tighter around the hilt of the dagger. "I know far too well what the winter brings, but don't think I'm afraid of it." he spoke with a silent, but hard voice. "I only wonder why are *you* asking *me* that. You don't look poor, or unable to afford warm clothes and food."
The wind seemed to pick up around him, whirling the snow around his figure. "And many will die of war, too..." he muttered.
Blaith's lips split open into a forced smile.
"Exactly." He kept his eyes upon Artemis.
"So while some of us are immune to the cold, not all of us can be immune to the war." He studied Artemis for a long moment. "Tell me, how tired are you of this war? Or.." he chuckled. "Perhaps.. your kind it does not really affect?"
"Tired of this war? Tired?" Artemis scoffed. For a moment, the wind grew stronger. "I'm a hunted prey... It should have happened a long time ago. It is only for good..." He shook his head, clenching his fists.
"They had it coming. It's not possible to spend so many years in oppression. Off course it affects me, but in... A different way." A bleak smirk appeared on Artemis' thin lips. "I was a hunted prey for hundreds of years. Don't give me that look..." He raked his hair with his hands, revealing the pointed tips of his ears. "I'm older than I look. But I'm tired of this... This war is only for good. And they'll fail it, they won't be victorious."
The sort of answer was what Blaith was hoping for as a smile of his own cracked across his lips.
"Yes, you certainly seem wise beyond your years."
His eyes flickered over the elf's form.
"So what do I call you?"
"Artemis." he replied slowly, crossing his arms on his chest.
"What about yourself?"
He was aware of the dangers that revealing himself meant, but right now, there was no point in using an alias. In the end, name never mattered.
"Artemis,... Artemis the mage." Blaith tested the words, and it was as if he were jabbing the other man, daring him on with the information he had. But he simply smirked and said nothing.
"Our meeting could have been of little consequence, but I suppose we may have met due to fate. Obviously, I am not a big supporter of those persecuting mages, but I can't rightfully tell you my name- however, my... cause, could use your... talents." And he was careful in choosing his words. HE didn't want to let too much information slip out. THis was a dangerous game he always played. You could never be too trusting.
"Your cause." Artemis repeated. His cause... This man must be some noble that supports the mages, considering all the circumstances...
"What does your case require off me?" he questioned him. "I can do far more than freezing people, but I don't want to be shipped to a camp, or jailed, or executed... I guess you can understand the reasons." His glance turned dark and sharp, piercing the man in front of him like a spear. "You have to understand that I can't be really trustful to someone of whom I know nothing, hardly his name... Blaith."
Blaith gave a sneer though he chuckled dryly.
"I don't trust so easily myself. But..." he turned away, staring off towards the river- his choice location to hide so many secrets. "There's going to be some noise being made- some action that will no doubt make this war get worse before it can get better..."
He paused before adding,
"I'm.. seeking out those who would not mind making some noise in order to get things done."
Graetus peered over at his cousin- why was he revealing so much and in a convoluted way? But he held his tongue and turned back to Artemis, to see what the mage had to say.
"That depends what do you mean by noise." Artemis frowned. "If it isn't something that would put my head on a high stake, then I might consider it."
He broke a branch off the thick, thorny bushes around. It froze in his hand, and he crushed it, making it crumble and shatter into a myriad of tiny pieces, spiraling towards the ground in the wind. What could this man want off him?
Blaith gave a dry chuckle.
"Well that, I can not promise. But I can promise the support of an army of men."
Artemis raised a brow. "An army of men?" he said silently. An army of men... This man must be powerful. A military leader? A duke? A powerful mercenary?
He tried to connect his name with a standing that would fit, but whatever came to his mind seemed irrational... "I might know what you are, and I might not, but I assume you aren't any common rebel. A general? Duke? Noble?" he thought out loud, his gaze wandering around his surroundings and avoiding the man.
"Tell me more about that cause of yours."
"Well men will die. All wars guarantee that," Blaith reminded. "But I'm growing more than tired of the shitty one we're stuck in."
"Most definitely. Men will die whether there is a war, or not, only the way of their death changes." Artemis replied darkly. He stepped towards the river, and onto its surface, which froze into a hard shell beneath his feet. Slowly walking into the middle of the stream, he stood amid the flow of the river on a thick chunk of ice before he realized it.
"There are things that need to be changed. Go to hell with laws." he growled.
Blaith smirked over at Artemis's form.
"Well, if you're up for change- there will be an announcement held in the duchy of Turgall, in the castle square. It might be something your ears would be interested in listening to."
The dutchy of Turgall... Blaith...
All of a sudden, he turned his head towards the man. "Are you the duke that will hold it, sir Harmond?" he asked quietly, but his voice was cold and sharp.
He said nothing to confirm or deny it.
"The announcement will be made at the end of the week." And with that, he turned to leave.
Artemis's thin lips formed a crooked grin. It was almost sure that he actually met the duke of Turgall... He turned on his heel, and bolting in the exact opposite direction, across the river, he ran through the swamps, disappearing somewhere in the indistinct white.