In God We Trust [M]

[visualspice]

It had been sometime since he'd enjoy good, live music. The culture behind her singing was immeasurable.  And he began to formulate silly ideas as to why the young woman had followed him. A mystery, sure. But an unlucky lover? Perhaps.


He sat there, musing over her song, but stayed quiet in the silence that followed. It was interesting she chose not to use any bardic powers.

Then again, any good bard worth its salt knew how to tell a good tale.

Be wondered how else she'd choose to amuse him- remaining like her shark in a cage. 

[Goldie]

This particular song was well known among her people, and often sung despite its more depressing libretto. The story went that this was the first time a mortal woman had fallen for an Elf. It was almost presented as a warning for the pairing between the two races back at home, but she had always loved how deeply the woman loved. To a fault, sure, since it ultimately claimed her life.

The story also continued that the woman bore a child; Half elven, half human. That when the woman cast herself into the sea, it was to force her child into the hands of her father to be raised by him and his kin.

All myth, of course, but Saoirse had an obvious vested interest in the story. It felt like it was her story, no matter the fact her mother had died from plague.

The moon had continued to rise and had hit the perfect height in the sky to reach the window where the half-elf sat, knees pressed against her chin.

As before, everywhere the moonlight touched glowed and seemingly transformed as if the moon itself embued her with its power. It sent warmth through her skin like slipping into a hot bath after a hard day's work.

"Do you sing, Vrae?" She asked quietly, for the first time averting her eyes away from him and up towards the crescent moon. She sounded tired. Almost forlorn.

[visualspice]

He pocketed away the story.  he'd never remember the tune.  So when she asked him if he sang, t here was a shared quiet between them befire he simply answered,"No."

[Goldie]

His answer did not surprise her, he didn't seem like the singing type, bit one could never know for certain. One thing she had learned over the last year was that humans always surprised her.

She held out her hand into the moonlight and summoned a single silver butterfly with a gentle twist of her wrist. It fluttered around her fingers leaving a shadow of light in its wake.

"Some people believe that magic makes you powerful." She spoke softly, "That if creates some kind of worldly advantage." The butterfly landed in her palm. She closed her fingers around it slowly until whisps of moonlight bled through her closed fist.

"But they're wrong."

[visualspice]

Amused, Opus Dey continued to study her from between layers of drapes.  The lantern at his side continued to glow and dance. 

"Connlaoth makes for an interesting choice to visit then, doesn't it, she-elf?"

This whole country might very well be a bigger puzzle to her than he. Still, it amused him she'd so openly use it. Then again, it was just the two of them.

[Goldie]

The whisps of moonlight smoke swirled back into the darkness. She watched it until it could no longer be seen by the naked eye, suddenly gripped with a sense of longing.

"Hmm?" His words broke her out of her trance and she glanced back at him. "Oh. Here? I honestly had no idea. I'd heard tell of their dislike of mages, but I didn't realize how deep it went until...you know....I started a riot."

The longing gripped her and she stared again at the rays that trickled through the drapes. She glanced back at him and shrugged, "whoops."

With one hand, she hoisted herself onto the ledge and hopped gracefully onto the roof of the house.

Not to escape. Not to run. But to stand in the night, drenched in starlight.

So she stood there, face turned up towards the sky, feeling her ancestors kissing her cheeks.

[visualspice]

After sometime, there was a noise below and a small glinting object sat upon the sill she had abandoned. It was the ring, and it had a small piece of paper tied to it.

But also notably, the lantern had gone out and if she were to check, her puzzle would have gone away and the building was returned to the quiet shadows of the night. 

[Goldie]

She didn't even realize how much time had passed, but when she opened her eyes the moon had well passed its apex and the night was on its way out. She took a deep breath in and was hit with the realization that Vrae had not come up to the roof with her.

Curious.

She had always known that leaving that room would be to lose her little puzzle, her phantom, her Vrae, but now faced with the fact that he wasn't here...

She was disappointed. She had thought he had found her just as interesting as she found him, but....he hadn't even tried to kill her. That was less than interest. That was...nothing.

He nothinged her.

A sigh blew through her lips as she slipped back down to the ground to peek into the house, secretly hoping to see his shrouded figure but...

Nothing.

Her fingers pressed onto the sill and something cold pressed into her palm.

Curious, she thought. Nothing had been on the windowsill when she left, had there?

Upon turning over her hand she saw the small, gold ring from before glistening against her slender fingers. Her heart skipped a beat. This was no accidental leave behind moment. No. He had purposefully left this for her. If there was any doubt in her mind, it dissipated the moment she noticed the piece of paper.

A note?

A smile pulled at Saoirse's lips as she unfolded the paper. What clues had her puzzle left for her?

Keep the ring. You might need it tomorrow.

Well...that was...ominous. It was a ring of healing after all. So, was he planning to do something to her? Or did he just expect her to get into some kind of trouble?

Pfft. Ridiculous. Her? Trouble?

Never.

Even still, she placed the ring and the note into her pocket and turned to leave. Perhaps she'd run into him again?

She turned to leave when her fingers brushed against the two matching locator stones in her pocket. She hesitated.

There was no guarantee he'd return, and maybe it was stupid to potentially her limited supply (after all she only had two sets and one she had given to the priest in case he ever needed help) but... maybe....

She pulled one from her pocket and left it on the sill.

"For luck." She murmured before turning il towards the incoming dawn and walking down the city streets.

******

Seeing as the half- elf hadn't made any arrangements on where to stay, she found herself wandering for a good while. It was incredibly late, and many shops and inns were still closed for fear of the rioters. She ended up meandering her way to the city limits and finding a nice tree, which she climbed, nestled into a small nook of branches, and closed her eyes to hopefully get a few hours of sleep.

The day before had been exciting to say the least and sleep took her before she knew it. Her dreams were filled with night stalking and cuckoo clocks, but when her eyes fluttered open the sun was high and she felt revitalized.

Many might have wondered why she even stayed after yesterday's events; it would have certainly been safer to just leave. However, she was running low on supplies and needed the shops if she hoped to get far at all.

And a lute. She needed to replace her lute. Considering the craftsmanship of the cuckoo clock she imagined they would have some amazing choices.

She splashed her face with some water from her canteen and made her way into the city protected by an illusion or two to change her features.

The shops, thankfully, were open and she was able to replenish her travel foods - specifically dried fruits and salted meats that would last for a long time. She even found a beautiful cloak with ivy ebroidered  on a gorgeous ivory cloth. Maybe not the best for traveling, but she couldn't say no and stored it carefully into her pack for another time. As much as she wanted to just wear it, it wouldn't exactly keep her inconspicuous.

Another time then.

Off she went to another shop. This time a craftsman known for his musical instruments. His shop took her breath away. It had everything from intricate lap harps, to viols inlayed with pearl and ebony. This man's art rivaled that of the elves.

Leaving with just one was a challenge. She was already going to have someone collect that clock so...why not also collect an instrument or two...? It wasn't like she didn't have the gold to pay for it.

But she controlled herself. She had enough instruments at home and only really needed the lute.

And it was a beautiful one and the sound...oh the resonance that this instrument created...it gave her shivers. The wood had come from an old grove of soft, dense trees that gave the instrument a warmth that newer trees just could not replicate. It was miles better than the one that broken during Danny's speech. And it was beautiful. Simple, but the inlay was second only to the elves and were clearly the work of the master.

Honestly, she wouldn't have been surprised if this man had trained with an Elven craftsman.

But she knew better than to ask that now...

Cradling her purchase, Saoirse exited the shop and into the late afternoon sun. She strummed the strings absently, humming a quiet tune while planning her next leg of the journey and where she might stop to perform on this beauty.

****

After the events of yesterday, the city's militia were out in force. The mage was still at large and she was dangerous. Danning was an odd character, yes, but to be controlled by the mage to spout such rhetoric...she must be powerful and dangerous.

Overnight, wanted posters had been placed of the red-haired devil along with descriptions of her heinous deeds.

A young boy was busy hanging them on the streets when he spotted her. Her hair wasn't red, but her features matched the papers in his hands. He stared after her, panicking.

Then the stack of remaining posters fell from his hands and he ran.

****

Saorise barely even blinked when the papers fell to the ground. She was so engrossed in her music that she didn't even notice when her illusion faltered and then...stopped.

Others noticed immediately. Whispers spread. They began disappearing into homes, into shops, as a line of uniformed soldiers entered the street to form a circle around her.

"You are ordered to stop, mage." The tall man in the middle declared.

Saoirse looked up, surprised, and cursed.

How the hell had she missed the entire guard surrounding her?

She had no choice, she started playing her newly purchased lute and started weaving her illusions into it. Best to disappear the .

But nothing happened.

The tall man stepped forward, smiling darkly, "That won't work for you this time, mage." He spat. With a wave of his hand, he signaled for the circle to close around her.

"Wait." She played a few more notes, but they felt...hollow. They were beautiful, skilled, but held no power. There was a wall around her and she could not touch her abilities. "Wait." She said again, panic creeping into her voice. What was happening? Why could she not conjur? How were they doing this?

"Never met a Mordecai before, eh?" He snarled and then was upon her. Her lute was ripped from her hands and thrown to the stones.

A cry escaped her lips, but no sooner had the lute left her fingers than a blinding blow slammed into the side of her head.

Everything went black.

When her vision returned she was on the ground and something warm was running down her face. Rough handa grabbed her arms and twisted, painfully.

The pain brought her back to her senses; cleared her head, and she twisted away from them with enough force to throw them off balance, but their grip on her arm didn't lift and a defending crack echoed through the road.

More pain.

So much pain.

But it was enough. Her wrist was no longer restricted to normal movements and she yanked, ignoring the fact that she was breaking it further, and pulled herself from his grip. She stood and staggered into the row of guards.

They grabbed at her, but her battle training kicked it. She was half-elf. Even without her magic she could out maneuver them.

She twirled and ducked between their arms and through the thin spaces between them. Her vision blurred and her head spun, but she couldn't stop.

Your blades! she screamed at herself, but her dominant hand was useless and it was cumbersome to unsheath her sword with the other. It would take too much time!

She stumbled, fell, and grabbed a fistfull of stones which she threw into the eyes of her attackers.

Their surprise was evident, but it only bought her a few precious moments.

She fumbled with her blade again, but it was taking too damn long!

Her left hand slipped and landed on the tiny buldge in her pocket.

Vrae's gift.

Without a second thought she shoved it onto her finger. Instantly her vision cleared and she could feel her bones fusing back together.

Gods this was bad.

There before her stood at least twenty guards. Six with crossbows aimed at her, a few others with some odd metal contraption that looked like intricately decorated tubes.

Twang, an arrow loosed and slammed into her shoulder lodging securely against the bone. The ring began mending as soon as the arrow hit. She ripped the arrow out with a gutteral cry and felt her skin knitting back together.

Twang another arrow hit, knocking her off her feet and she slammed against the wall cracking her skull against the stones.

Again, she reached up and pulled it out letting the ring do its work.

She had to get out of here. She was a sitting duck and there was no way she would be able to fight her way out. They had caught her off guard and had the clear advantage. She had to go....

Up.

She stood, using the wall for support. Her head was surprisingly groggy and the last arrow wound hadn't quite closed up.

The ring...must not be infinite.

Oh Gods.

Adrenaline kicke in and Saoirse  leapt with all of her strength, all of her will to live, and swung herself lithely up a few windows and onto the roof. She felt the woosh of another arrow zing past her ear and instinctively dodge to the opposite side.

All she needed to do was get out of range and then keep running. She was almost there.

It pained her to leave the lute lying in the road below, but she couldn't go back for it. Either save her life or save her music.

It wasn't even a choice.

So she turned and ran.

The sharp bang that echoed behind her hadn't even registered before her breath exploded from her lungs. She turned expecting to see one of the soldiers on the rooftop with her having just landed a kidney shot with his fists but....

She looked down and saw red blossoming from her side and spreading across her clothes.

What....

Another bang and another punch before she could even process the first. Her vision swam. Pain returned in force from her side and from just below her collarbone.

She reached towards her chest and felt....a hole....

Then her knees buckled and she slipped down the shingles, tumbling onto the road below in a heap.

Darkness came and went. Her ears no longer worked. She couldn't move, couldn't speak. The stones were drinking her blood.

Her fingers twitched and she did the only thing that came to her mind before darkness would come for sure this time.

She reached into her pocket and gave the tracking stone a final, weak squeeze.

[visualspice]

When Saoirse would awaken, she'd find herself in a plush bed, head resting on a plush pillow surrounded by soft clothes. She would be naked, and cleaned, bandages wrapping tightly around her wounds as a familiar nearby clock ticked away at her bedside.

Thr room was large and lavish, with windows slatted shut and locked with daylight creeping in through the slats. The table beside her bed held more than just a familiar oversized clock, but a pair of familiar polished stone- and a small, glinting ring. 

The door was closed, keeping the outside noises muffled but somehow this area just seemed quiet and.. soft. Not much else lined the room except a few select paintings, velvet drapes and a tall, dark figure sitting on the corner- keeping a casual eye upon the bed.

[Goldie]

The world was a blur. Sounds came and went like sudden roars and then....silence. Light flashed before her eyes interspersed by long moments of darkness.

And pain.

So much pain.

More pain than she had ever experienced in her long, sheltered life.

Fire ripped through her, tears stinging eyes that she couldn't open.

"Stop. Please..." She heard herself sob, but it didn't sound like her voice. It was distant, hoarse. Wet, rattling breathing followed her whether she was stirring or dreaming.

Dreams filled with terror. With falling. With blood.

Dreams of soldiers pressing fingers into her wounds and cackling.

Then darkness. Sweet, sweet darkness. If the darkness offered its hand, she would take it gladly and let it lead her away never to return.

But the fire stopped trying to consume her and turned into a constant, dull burn. Yet it had lost its all encompassing bite.

And still the breathing continued to plague her. Coupled with a slow, constant boom in her ears.

Her eyes fluttered, but closed quickly against the light. So much effort...

She was cocooned in a cloud. But...still there was pain so.... she couldn't be dead.

Right?

The labored, wet breathing got faster. The booming in her ears picked up. And panic set in which only made them worse and only made her panic more.

She tried to sit, tried to get away, but her body was made of lead and the pain. Gods the pain. A haggered sob escaped her lips, mingled with that constant raspy breathing.

Oh Gods...

She was hearing herself.

[visualspice]

When she awoke, he tensed, uncertain what to make or do about her sudden, fitful arousal. It was obvious she was still in pain- and still not fully lucid. Frowning, he moved over towards the bed, staring down at her form before scooping up the ring and lifting up one of her hands. If she fought, he'd tighten his grip, but forcefully slipped the ring onto her finger- and hoped she was awaken enough that the ring would work.

[Goldie]

Something grabbed her hand and her instinct was to try and snatch it back, but she was so weak. Each little movement sapped her strength and the attacker would most likely feel only very slight resistance.

She didn't know where she was and immediately assumed the guards had taken her somewhere. For what purpose she had no way of knowing, but if she was alive they wanted something from her.

The hand tightened as she fought weakly; comically. What could she even do?

"No..." She tried to make her fingers into a fist. Her heart beat faster, for it was her very own heartbeat she had been hearing in her ears, and her eyes snapped open and she blearily tried to look around. She had to fight. She had to stop whatever was happening.

She felt the tug on one of her fingers. No. No they were going to break them. No no no no no no n--

The ring slipped on her finger.

A ring.

No broken bones. No torture. No....her vision cleared slowly and the pain subsided ever so slightly and without rush. Her eyes darted to the figure towering above her.

She gripped his hand.

"Vrae.....?" She croaked.

[visualspice]

Opus tensed when the woman suddenly touched him, but made no efforts to pull his hand away. The woman was delusional, recovering from he wounds. But then she spoke his name. Well, his 'name'- the moniker that she had given to him.

He smirked, but the smile was a little cold.

He wasn't exactly overflowing with knowledge on how to comfort those who had been torture or harmed. No...
He was typically the torturer.

"You cause a lot of trouble," he said, removing his hand from hers before stepping away, towards the closed window as he peered through the thin little slats covering the window.

"That's the second ring I've had to give you in less than 24 hours."

[Goldie]

Her mind ran wild, cycling through one ridiculous thought after another. Thoughts that, had she been in a lucid state, would have been instantly ridiculous. Was Vrae with the guards? Had he come and swept her away for them? Keeping her here to heal just enough to not die from torture?

She forced herself to take a breath. The ring around her finger was working, but it was a testament to the sheer depth of her wounds by how slowly it seemed to be going.

The wound in her side and on her chest were taking the longest and she could feel her flesh stitching itself back together.

Then he spoke.

Trouble... she thought. It was a descriptor that had followed her since birth. She overheard others during her childhood telling her father how much trouble raising a human daughter would be. That her human side would only cause trouble. So she had thrown herself into her studies. Forced herself to be independent far sooner than any person rightfully should be. She did everything she could to stop being a burden.

Yet here she was. Trouble.

She had healed enough to be able to push herself up, but there was clearly a ways to go. It didn't bother her that she was unclothed. Partially because her wounds required bandages to be tightly wound around her chest, and partially because...well...if Vrae had helped heal her at all or was even in the room when it was happening....it wasn't like she had anything to hide anymore.

Her mouth pressed into a line and she slipped the ring off her finger and placed it on the covers next to her. The healing stopped instantly and she knew it would still be weeks before she was fully herself again.

"I'm sorry to have troubled you." Her words were curt, "I know these rings are finite. Probably expensive. I won't deplete it."

[visualspice]

Opus kept his dark eyes on her, not moving from the window. 

"Do elves not accept gifts?" He found himself asking after a time.

[Goldie]

She sat in silence, considering what her next move would be. Her anxiety rose the longer he didn't respond.

Was he angry? Was he offended?

She didn't want to look up at him for fear of what might be hiding behind his dark eyes. And then....

"What?" She whipped her face around to look at him, wincing as the half-healed wounds pulled and pinched, "Do we not.....gifts?"

Maybe her brain was still scrambled, but she was having difficulty understanding how so completely off guard his response had caught her. A few moments passed before she realized her mouth was hanging open in shock.

"What....no....no....we...we do accept gifts." She finished feeling deflated; ashamed.

"I don't understand." She picked up the ring and let it rest in her palm, "Why?"

It was a loaded question. There were so many whys that flooded her brain. Why had he let her follow him? Why had he healed her last night? Why had he left without really getting anything from their conversation. Why did he save me?

[visualspice]

Opus remained casually leaned against the wall now, a subtle smile gracing his lips, and even reaching parts of his eyes.

"To be honest, I was bored. I had the day to myself and decided not to focus on work."
He tilted his head to one side, arms folded across his chest as he studied her. She looked thoroughly confused. It was interesting. She didn't even know him yet she already pinpointed he was of a more villainous nature. And she wasn't wrong.

The question was.. how had she deduced that from him just being so recluse?
Then again... he supposed he couldn't blame her. He did look like a devil- well, a handsome devil, but he was a tall man, square of features, strong, dark of complexion and held an air about him that spoke volumes.

He had been groomed this way all his life. A man did not simply inherit an empire and expect the respect his father had gained. And since he had taken the reigns, the empire had grown considerably. In those efforts, he was almost a better business man thanhis father, except his father started it all and set the seed for it to grow into hit's success. Opus just wasn't stupid and did not squander much of anything.


Except today. Today he had squandered away two rings to some half-elf girl who ought not to be in Connlaoth.

And she asked very good questions.

Why.

His response was truthful. He had time to kill and allowed himself the luxury of being sidetracked by this woman's plight. She was of little consequence to him except for amusement. He supposed it's why he cared enough to drag her from the guards. And that was no simple task.

He wasted quite a lot of resources on her already- and she was in no means a boon to his empire.
Interesting indeed.

[Goldie]

Saoirse wasn't exactly sure what she expected his answer to be. It wasn't as if they were friends, or even acquaintances. They had met each other exactly once, had one conversation that wasn't exactly enlightening, and then...what?

"Huh." She leaned herself back against the pillows and the back of the bed. It really was comfortable.

"I guess that makes sense." She decided after a moment of silence. She rolled the ring between her thumb and forefinger. It looked so unassuming. Thieves might even overlook it thinking it of little value. "Whatever the reason, I wouldn't be here if you hadn't been bored."

There were still so many unanswered questions, but Saoirse noticed he didn't like answering questions that gave much away. He was a vault. A big, seven foot, locked vault. Maybe she'd never actually be able to crack it. Maybe it was futile.

But...

If they hadn't met, if they hadn't had a game of cat and mouse before, her ignorance would have killed her and no one would have been there.

Boredom was why she was alive.

"Can you..." she started, then stopped. Would he even answer?

Ultimately it didn't matter. She had to ask.

"Can you tell me what happened?" She touched her side and her chest, "I'm almost a decade old and....what did they do to me? How did they..." a shudder ran down her spine and she was forced to close her hand around the ring in an attempt to hide the trembling. The last few moments of the fight flashed through her head.

She couldn't stop shaking. Couldn't stop the images from taking over. The loud bang and then everything fell apart.

Her breath came quicker as the scene replayed over and over.

She was weak. She couldn't fight whatever that had been. She couldn't even run. Couldn't win.

Can't win.

Weak.

When she left this room they would find her. They would strip her of her connection with the world.

She couldn't breathe. Oh Gods she couldn't breathe.

[visualspice]

Opus only watched her, as he usually did- much like a cat that got into the cream. But then.. she began to spiral, remembering and he watched her beginning to tremble and shake and then.. was she having trouble breathing?! The damn girl was going into shock.

He was at her side in a moment, grabbing her suddenly, roughly as he pinned her down against the bed. He fought against her hold, the hold on the ring, only to roughly force it from her grasp then shoved the damn thing onto her finger in hopes a second round of healing might help- other wise he may have just made it worse, his form over powering her and keeping her forced down upon the bed, a ring shoved near painful to her finger.

But.. had it worked?

[Goldie]

It was almost as if she had black out. Nothing else existed in those moments except fear. Fear she had never experienced before. Fear that was all encompassing. Falling...all she could feel was falling and the sickening crack of her bones splintering on the stones.

Then she was falling again. Rough hands were pushing her off the roof. Gods she had never been saved had she? Waking up here was a hallucination and now they were pushing her off again.

A primal, uncontrolled, cry burst from her lips. She couldn't control herself. She had been reduced to pure instinct and reason had fled. She didn't even realize she wasn't falling again or that the stones that should have met her were actually soft pillows and clean sheets.

Her eyes were wide in terror, but she couldn't fight. She didn't have the strength. Every attempt at escape was met with a force the kept her down.

The ring slammed on her finger, healing the fracture that its placement had caused almost instantly.

Warmth spread through her. The rest of her  continued to heal, but it didn't touch her mind. That was a wound that would only dissipate with time and training.

Instead, her strength began to return and her struggling became more effective. Had to get out. Had to get out. Had to get out!

Her free hand lashed upwards, palm speeding towards his face in an upper cut meant to break his nose.