Onyx Briyll

Bride of Lady Siadamkiru Beneni @RomanAria

Onyx woke up to Sia’s voice after being shaken out of sleep. She was talking about getting food and then leaving, and another voice, a Gem, answered her. Onyx sat up slowly and looked around the room, confused. She recognized Lady Sia as the one who’d rescued her the night before, but other than that she had nothing she could grasp. Who was this other Gem? Why was Onyx here, and where is here anyways?

She wasn’t scared, but not knowing anything about a situation was not a feeling she was used to. She felt uneasy and timid as she stood next to the bed she’d been placed on, wondering where she should even start her train of thought at. Her memories of the night before were vivid up to the point where… Kai… After that, it was pretty much a blur, with Sia’s and that horrible Drakken brute’s actions being the easiest to recall.

Onyx coughed slightly to try and dislodge the uncertainty she had, and was surprised at the lack of pain she felt at the action. The night before, it had been so hard to breathe, to speak, but now there was only a dull ache that had spiked when she’d coughed. Reaching a hand up to her neck, she found that someone had wrapped a bandage around it, a slightly sticky resin coating the cloth. She gave a small smile and spoke quietly, testing her voice. "Thank you."

There was still a slight pain, but each word was no longer a battle. Her smile grew slightly as she spoke a little louder, tears of joy starting to well up in her eyes. "Thank you, so much." She wasn’t looking at anyone, or even sure who she was speaking to. Be it by Sia or Vivari, perhaps even both, she’d been saved, she was alive! After a second she did look up at Sia, debating in her mind whether to run over and hug the Drakken, or if that might be a bit too much.

She settled on taking a step forward and speaking her thoughts out loud. As uneasy as she was, this seemed the best way to handle the situation and open up a way to ease her own confusion. "If you hadn’t come and saved me like that, I could be dead now, or worse I could be with that brute. I, honestly don’t think it’s possible for me to thank you enough, I owe you my life."

Master Husband to Aerienna Cassiel @RomanAria and Atallia Faeron @NarcissisticPotato

Lugft had been enjoying his post breakfast drink. The goblet of wine had sat heavy in his hand as he laeaned back in his chair and took refined sips, thinking about the wonderful times he had with Aery last night... and the wonderful times he would soon have with that spitfire of his. Everything had gone perfectly, two perfect brides, a perfect wedding night, and what was soon to be a perfect little honeymoon. Unfortunately, Lugft had learned long ago 'perfect' was such a fleeting and temporary word, though he had forgotten that lesson in this moment, and soon all that 'Perfect' was going to come crashing down around him. He was almost startled by Tal's screaming at him as he snapped his head to face her. What the hell was she talking about? He had left Aery in the room with Tal, both had been passed out on the bed when he had come downstairs. For God's sakes she must be delusion-... had he left the door open? Doom began to dawn on Lugft as he realized he had, and the worry in his face was quickly replaced with a black rage.

His eyes narrowed, he gritted his teethe, his hands clenched into fists so hard his knuckles turned white. He almost lashed out at poor Tal, he would have broken her little neck for defying him... but she hadn't. No, she had the chance just like Aery to slip away somewhere in the castle... but she hadn't. Why? Why had she sought out the Drakken lord she seemed to so hate rather than look for her sister bride? Lugft realized why, Aery had somewhere to go. A twin, who did Tal have? Only Lugft and Aery... but Lugft would spin it another way, oh yes this was perfect! Sure it was annoying to have to find Aery and kill whpever was hiding her and take her twin as well... but such hassles were for later. Lugft let out a calming sigh before he stood, and gave an honest gleaming smile of happiness to Tal. There was no anger, no lust, no predatory leer... all that shown on Lugft's face was pure joy. He truly was diabolical.

"Tal! You are such a wonderful, obedient wife to tell me this! I had no idea our poor Aery had gotten lost in the castle, she must have slipped out after I came to breakfast, how silly of me to leave the door open. Oh, but your such a good Gem wife!", he swept her up in his arms, giving her a twirl as he spoke, "Running to tell your husband like a good, loyal wife! Lets find her shall we? I do beleive she would seek out her twin... whatever her name was. Who claimed her? He was rather short if I remember... actually rather ridiculously short... who do I know that is so remarkably short...", he tapped his chin in fake thought, he only knew one Drakken who was that short. He snapped his fingers, as if the idea had just come to him miraculously, "AH of course! Zakroti Unalim, the Usurper. His is such a scandalous story really! He sacked his own fathers keep to gain lordship! Its a great tale of the little Drakken driving his enemies before him. I'll regale you with it in full later. Now... lets get back my bride", he practically growled, dragging Tal with him to get his Bodyguards.

God he hoped it would be a bloodbath. He hadn't killed anything in over a week... he was getting quite antsy.

Rya listened to Scoot, enough so that she was able to respond with actual words and questions, rather than the hmms and ahs of someone only half listening. But her questions stayed boring and basic as the rest of her mind whirled around trying to comprehend the past few hours of her life.

“What do I feel about all this….” She said, an audible breath of air escaping as she thought over her answer. “I don’t know if you ever…. Well, back home we have a game that we play with an empty cow stomach. We would kill some of the cows for meat. And we didn’t really use the stomachs for food… When the stomachs are still kinda of wet, you can fill them up with air. They don’t float, but they fall to the ground a lot slower than other objects. Anyway, my siblings and I would play a silly game, we didn’t even give it a name, but the point was to keep batting the stomach up into the air, to keep it from touch the ground. When it did touch the ground it would usually explode. That’s how I feel,”

She paused, before realizing that her answer probably didn’t make much sense. “What I mean is… I’m trying to keep myself from thinking about it through any means necessary. I mean, like, if can keep myself in the air, not thinking too deeply about the problem and …denying it…then I am alright. Everything is fine and I am okay. I know I can’t do it forever, I’ve already lost it once and that is how I messed up my hand. But… I don’t know what else to do, but allowing myself to be destructive and angry doesn’t seem like a very good idea,” She paused for a second, swallowing back another response. “I and don’t want to cry either. Maybe we should head back to eat now,” her voice was shorter than it had been even a moment before and she moved a little bit faster.

“So, you seem to know Azlion fairly well. I mean…you are around him a lot…what can I expect...do you think being his bride? Also, if he didn’t want brides, then why did he even come here, surely not for the social scene if last night was any example,” As she spoke, her word started to come out faster and faster.

When Scoot had finished answering her bombardment of questions, Rya opened her mouth to ask more when a scream went across the room. On the far side of the room, a Drakken lord seemed to be distracted by an emotional Gem. She missed most of what was said, but the just seemed to be that one Gem was trying to escape and the other one had told on her. A warm and painful feeling started to spread inside her stomach. It was anger mostly, anger at the Gem who told, then one who seemed to want to be a good little pet. Not only was she so willing to degrade herself, but she was actively stopping another Gem from making her break for freedom. For home.

That lead into the other emotion she was feeling. Pity and fear. Fear for what the fate of the other Gem might be. If caught, this Gem would be hurt or worse. Probably worse.

And then, in the smallest corner of her emotional range was a little bit of hope. Because if this Gem was able to escape her Master Husband, then that would make it possible for the rest of them.

”We can get back to the rooms this way, right?” said Rya, pointing in the same direction that Lugft went, before following quickly without waiting for a proper response.


Exon awoke before the sun. Which wasn’t that unusual, his work often called him away in the early hours of the day. Even on his off days, he wasn’t one to lay around in bed after waking up, there was too much to do in the day to waste time like that. But, as he looked down at his new sleeping wife, he couldn’t quite bring himself to pull away.

Although Saisri was sleeping, she had still put as much distance between herself and him as Exon would allow. Saisri had made it clear with her change of behavior that she disagreed with his treatment of Nadia last night. There was a part of him that agreed, only because Nadia was new to this world. But Exon also knew that he would do his new wives no favors by shielding them from the reality of their new lives. They would be different, that wasn’t the same as unpleasant. Not if they didn’t make them that way.

After watching his sleeping wife a few more minutes, Exon finally rose and got himself ready for the days travel. ”Awake, my wives,” he said, once his own belongs were packed away. “We will leave right after breakfast, I suggest you eat a lot, the trip will be hard and you will need your energy, oh, and little one,” said Exon, looking at Nadia. “Please don’t forget your punishment,” with that he took a seat by the now dead fire, waiting to take his wives down for food.

That never happened.

Once his wives were dressed a loud commotion came from the hallway as an angry Drakkon made a fuss about a runaway wife or something. An idea sparked in Exon’s head. If his wives found him so unjust, perhaps he should give them a chance to see what they really had to fear.

“Come,” he ordered to both of them, taking Saisri by the arm and pushing Nadia to walk just in front of him. “There is something I think you both should see,”

Nadia woke up rather quickly considering how much she didn't want to. While her sleep had been dreamless, it had at least also been peaceful. She stood up slowly, holding her blanket closely to herself as her bare feet landed on the chilly stone floor. The room had gotten cold quickly after the fire in the hearth had died at some point after she'd fallen asleep, leaving the thick blanket she'd cocooned herself into as the only barrier between her naked body and the chilled morning air.

She nodded her acknowledgment to Exon as he told her and Sisi to prepare for the day ahead, and sighed inwardly as he also reminded her of her punishment from the night before. She did realize that he could have reacted much worse to her withholding information from him, but she hoped that he could understand why she did it. That man, while he'd been horrible in the few moments of contact they'd had, was still a person, right? She was pretty sure Exon had broken the other drakken's hand beyond any perfect healing, but she didn't feel that anyone deserved to be treated any worse than they would bring onto themselves. Only murderers deserve death.

She dressed quickly, picking up and neatly putting her dress from the night before in her travel chest, before putting on a simple two-piece dress that was much better suited to travel than the showy one she'd just put away. She also tied her travel cloak around her neck. They may not have been leaving immediately, but she saw no harm in putting it on preemptively rather than carrying it around until it was time to go.

Once she was dressed she stood by the door, waiting for Exon to say it was time to go, but before that could happen she heard something like the beginnings of a fight out in the hall. Exon soon led them out of the room, being careful to keep her in front of him, she supposed it was to keep her in his line of sight during this. She glanced at Saisri for a second as Exon said he wanted them to see, whatever was going on. She hoped that whatever happened next, no one would get into any serious trouble or harm.

Scoot was sure to listen to Rya's answer very closely, quite surprised by the obvious distress she was displaying. He had noticed, when she showed up to the ceremony, that she was already injured but he hadn't actually questioned it up until this point. After all, many Drakken didn't realize their own strength when it came to the handling of the Gemminite brides. But hearing that she had done this to herself out of anxiety or straight up aggression was troubling. He felt bad for her, for all the brides present, as each and every one of them was forced to face the same thing Rya was... Only he doubted they would be allowed to express themselves the way she was. Scoot nodded thoughtfully as he loaded up the last of the food onto a tray and began walking back with Rya. As they walked she asked him another question, one much more involved than any she had asked previously. He opened his mouth to answer only to close it again as she continued to pour out question after question. When she had finished he paused for a moment with a chuckle before finally getting to answer.

"Yes, well I've been a servant of his household for quite a while. I doubt there's anyone who knows him better, and that includes himself." He stated with another chuckle before his expression changed into that of concern.

"To be honest, though, I haven't the faintest idea of why we came... It's completely out of character for him. But for whatever reason, he was adamant on attending this year; going on about a gut feeling. His gut feelings are rarely wrong but I can't fathom why all of a sudden this would become a priority." Scoot shook his head.

"I doubt you have anything to worry about, though. After all, he did offer you protection did he not? It's more than likely you'll take up a position about the estate with the rest of us servants. You'll be fine, it's the other one I'm worried about. What in Krenta's name was he thinking?" He fell silent after cursing the man, awaiting the questions that were sure to follow only to have their attention stolen by a screaming bride. Needless to say, Scoot was quite taken aback. He had never seen a bride yell at a Drakken Lord before, well at least not like that. Worry twisted his stomach but he forced his gaze down and tightened his grip on the tray motioning to Rya that it was time for them to leave.

Much to his dismay, however, Rya had other plans. She was pointing off in the same direction as the Gem and her husband had departed to, his face paling as she asked the question he had been dreading.

"Y-yes but... Wait! Where are you going? It's not safe." He called after her, hesitating a moment before he scurried after her, tray of food still in hand.

"Miss Rya, what are you doing? We should get back to Lord Dantanath, it's not safe wandering around without a proper mark." Scoot tried reasoning with her, internally cursing their current path. The guy they were following was in no way a nice guy, and he didn't feel like having to explain to Azilon how he had lost one of his "brides" to another Drakken.

@Ellion@agentmanatee

---

A rustling sound caught Sorrin's attentions, a wide smile replacing the fog of sleep as she caught sight of the other girl waking up. Beaming, she approached the other Gem and took her hands up in her own.

"You're going to be okay now and that's all that really matters. How are you feeling?" She asked, her voice laced with concern as she inspected how the bandages were holding up. Sighing with relief Sorrin stepped back and looked over her shoulder at Lady Sia with a questioning gaze.

"Were your friends from last night able to get their hands on her belongings? If not she can borrow some of mine until they can be replaced." She offered before an expression of shock took over her features.

"Oh my, I'm so sorry. Please forgive my rudeness." Sorrin's eyes fell to the ground sheepishly, realizing how close and personal she got with a girl who was essentially a stranger. Extending her arm slowly so as not to alarm the girl, Sorrin offered her hand to shake.

"I seem to have forgotten my manners. My name is Sorrin, Sorrin Lucielle. La... er... Sia is the one that picked me at the ceremony last night." She stated, sporting another smile.

@RomanAria@Vesuvius00

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Kasari watched the scene unfolding before her, noting the reactions of the guardsmen closely. Whoever chose Miry's twin was not a pleasant person, this much was obvious, but the slight hesitation from the Drakken side was telling. He was powerful, and now he'd be angry. It was a messy situation and she was sure it would only get worse. She maintained her composure as men were sent to their various stations, Zakroti even requesting that Ayltam move to safety. Kasari had considered the notion herself but upon being offered the chance to leave she was surprised by her own reluctance. Glancing down at Aerienna she could still feel the familiar heat radiating from her skin. For a brief moment she felt ashamed to be a wielder of flame, knowing the pain it brought others, but the moment of shame only made her angry. Fire was sacred to her, it was her entire way of life and some brute had just gone and disgraced it by using it to maliciously harm her Gemminite sister. Fingers curling into tight fists, Kasari turned and locked her gaze with Zakroti's.

"This is unacceptable. Pyrus' sacred flame has many uses but this... This should never have been one. The moment you chose me at the ceremony m'lord, I became apart of your noble house. And while I am fully aware that I gain no social standing of any kind within your nation, your pride has become mine. This Drakken's flame is tainted and I will be damned if I allow it to insult you with its presence. I will stay." She stated, eyes ablaze with her fury. Kasari knew that the Drakken's natural aggression pushed more power into the use of their elements, but she had never faced a flame she couldn't control. It was her pride as a child of Pyrus that fueled her now and she was willing to bet her life on the fact that such a filthy, disgraced flame could touch her.

Shaking her head Kasari approached her trunk of belongings and sifted through them, finally pulling forth a relatively small box. Clicking it open she withdrew a bright red ribbon that she used to tie back her hair in a ponytail fashion. While the ends of the ribbons swinging freely down her neck, Kasari expertly braided them in with her hair before twisting the braid up into a bun that she fastened with a few pins she had also drawn from the box. Completing the hairstyle was a ruby and fire opal encrusted hair pin that reflected the light as if it was itself an ember. Hair up in place, she clicked the box closed and returned it to her belongings, standing with a new air of confidence. If Gemminites were known for having warriors, one might have mistaken her for one in that moment.

@darkwolf687

Zakroti nodded to Kasari after she spoke, noting the fire in her eyes and realising it would be entirely pointless to argue. She seemed very determined to remain behind and nothing he said was going to dissuade her. "Very well. Qeynate; We should find our mail in case this becomes bloody." With that Zakroti turned and left the room, Qeynate cast a glance towards the Gems before leaving himself, shaking his head.

Vain watched them leave before approaching the Gem's. "A fine mess we have here." He reached around to his side and pulled his two daggers out of their sheaths, glancing to Kilio and texturing with his head. The blackguard sighed and drew his dagger, tossing it towards them so that it clattered on the floor. He placed his own blades beside them. "I trust you lot know how to stab someone, at least? Arm yourselves. The last thing Lugft and his ilk will be expecting is for the Brides to be armed."

Vain secretly doubted that they could do much but perhaps if they took them off guard they could kill. Even if they couldn't, it never hurt to have extra arms. In truth, he knew Zakroti wouldn't approve of this course of action. The ever paranoid young Muth would probably be terrified of the thought of giving blades to Gems who had every reason to direct hatred towards him. He would bear the lecture Zakroti would throw at him later, for now it was more important to stay alive.

Zakroti and Qeynate returned, clad in their Armour with their visors up. Vain stood and approached the pair. Zakroti looked back over towards Ayltam. He opened his mouth to speak but the girl preemptively shook her head. Zakroti sighed heavily and took a few steps towards her, placing his hand on her shoulder "Seru-wel, za wreeiz ien o- (Sibling-Child, as your protector I-)

"O zara veren. (I will remain)" Ayltam stated simply. Qeynate laughed for a moment before speaking

"Wre zan tyr, Ayltam. Zakroti, Zela geh veren (You are brave Ayltam. Zakroti, let her remain.)" Qeynate took a step forward and glanced towards Zakroti

"Kaan geh, Seru (Guard her, sibling)." Zakroti said to him and he nodded in response. Zakroti took a few steps out the door and muttered a curse to himself as he heard movement from Nastaki's room on the floor above. He quickly stepped back into the room and looked towards Aery and then to Qeynate with a decidedly grim look on his face. "An Muthseran runisze. (The Muthseran wakes.)"

@WeepingLiberty@RomanAria

Saisri bolted awake at Exon’s voice, blinking up sleepily at him. She quickly put together the events of the previous day as she dressed, putting on a loose-fitting cream colored blouse and a dark brown skirt. Her hair was just tugged into a messy braid over one shoulder.

“Remember your punishment, little one” Exon had said. Saisri turned to the small fire gem next to her, a soft smile on her face, and reached out, gently placing her hand on the girl’s shoulder. She had decided somewhere along the line that, so long as Nadia was forbidden to speak, she would refuse to speak herself.

As Exon took her arm she forced herself not to flinch away from him. He pulled her towards the door, as she heard a faint verbal kerfuffle perhaps from the ground floor – something about a runaway bride? Was this what Exon was hoping to show them?

---

Sorici couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at the back of the oddly waltzing Cuwarr. He was playing… was that… that was the Gemminite fanfare…?

She blinked stupidly after him for a moment, then glanced at Kalani as she realized the taller girl had spoken to her. Asking about Cuwarr, what she thought of him? The girl glanced at the door as though expecting the seemingly unhinged Drakken to walk back in at any moment, before finally speaking in her soft, slightly clipped voice.

“He’s polite enough I suppose…” she said at first, the thought trailing off as she tried to collect herself and force down the sudden wave of anger that threatened to overwhelm her. She did well at it, all things considered… her words were scarcely tinged with her bitterness, only slightly sharper than they should have been. ”But I’m moderately sure it’s just a façade. He is merely waiting for us to let our guard down.” She sighed heavily, her eyes unfocusing for a moment, but she quickly snapped back to reality and offered a small, if blank, smile to Kalani as she changed the subject. “Thank you, Kalani. I’ll be quick about it.”

She walked to the bathroom, quickly washing her face and pulling her hair into a neat bun. She straightened her clothes and then walked back to join her sister bride, a smile plastered on her face. “Shall we head down?” As the two girls fell into step together, Sorici couldn’t help but let the question fall from her lips. “And what do you think of our new husband?"

---

Sia couldn’t help but smile softly at Onyx. “Do not worry over it, little one. It is my duty.” she extended a hand to the girl, softly grasping Onyx’s fingers and giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. “You will be as safe with me as you were with your families – speaking of families. When we reach my estate, each of you can write a letter to be delivered by one of my couriers.” She flashed a warm look to each of the girls. “If I could I would allow you to go home but I fear if I did that my king and people would want my head on a pike, and I would much rather be alive to make my home a sanctuary.”

She frowned for a moment, turning to face Sorrin. Of course, the thought of Onyx’s belongings had not even occurred to her. “Ah, yes… if it’s not too much trouble, Sorrin. At least for today… on our way out I’ll have one of my guardswomen secure….” It was at that point that she realized she still didn’t know Onyx’s name. She turned back to the chocolate-haired girl. “My dear, if it is not too much trouble, might I know your name? I seem to have missed it in the chaos of yesterday…”

Sia quickly packed her belongings, wanting to give the girls time to dress. About halfway done with packing, a firm knock on the door distracted her. She turned, hand going to her sword, but it was only her household guard.

The instant they entered the room she could tell that something was wrong, though it took a minute to see what. Then she realized: Aldar’s tunic was rumpled and torn, she was wearing boots clearly three sizes too big for her, aaaand… she had no glaive. Bloody hell.

“Ladies, I’d like to introduce my personal guardswomen. Captain Rizan Vesque, lieutenant captains Kelyn Em’vere and Aldar Drais, Kintha Lortas, Acadea Drais, and medic Meiva Rilan.” Each of the guardswomen took a small bow, clasping her hand over her heart as she was introduced.

Sia turned again to the group, her informal air gone. It was a stern, upset commander that faced her guard now. “Aldar Drais. Report the status of our prisoner. And why are you not armed?”

The russet-haired, blue-eyed Drakken sighed, squaring her shoulders. Her eyes remained downcast. “Vilyn Hilveus is no longer our captive, instead under the custody of Lord Zakroti Unalim.”

Sia frowned deeply… how had Zakroti gotten back to his chambers so rapidly as to give that order…? “And under whose order was Vilyn Hilevus’s arrest authorized?”

“Lady Aymiria Unalim, Lord Zakroti’s first-chosen bride.”

Sia couldn’t help but exhale sharply. So Zakroti had given his brides some amount of legal status, had he? A dangerous game… for a dangerous man. Had she been in the girls’ place, she would not have dared challenge him.

“A more detailed report can wait for now. Until then—why did you present for duty without properly arming yourself? And why is your tunic in such an ill-maintained state?”

The redheaded Drakken blushed crimson. Her green-eyed sister, standing beside her, burst out laughing, but was quickly silenced by a glare from Rizan. It took a lot of blushing and stammering, but eventually the story came out that the cause for the ill-repaired wardrobe and lack of weaponry, and proper boots, was none other than Zakroti’s bride Aymiria. It also came out that Aldar had threatened – and taken violent action – against the Gem girl and insulted her guards.

Sia raised an eyebrow, nodding thoughtfully for a long moment before finally speaking. “I see. Aldar Drais, as of this moment you are stripped of your titles and your rank as a member of the Beneni household guard. As further punishment, when we meet on the road with my lord Zakroti and his men, you will find lady Aymiria and you will issue an apology to her and ask for her forgiveness, and any penance you may offer to make up for causing her fear. My suggestion would be to be sincere. You are dismissed, Aldar. Go assist the foot soldiers in breaking camp.”

Aldar hissed, her body stiffening, but finally made an awkward bow, muttering, “As my lady wishes.” in a clipped, sharp tone, before leaving the room.

Sia put an apologetic smile on her face, turning back to her brides. “Forgive this chaos, please. If there is anything either of you need, please don’t hesitate to ask one of our guardswomen. In the meantime, if you will follow me downstairs. We’ll take some food and then get out on the road… it would be shameful if my lord Zakroti’s people beat us to our agreed meeting point.” With that, she turned on her heel, making sure her brides stayed close behind her as the five remaining members of her guard fanned out around the trio of women.

---

At Qeynate’s sharp tone, Aery visibly flinched. And as his words settled over her, she curled over herself tighter, trembling so hard it was a wonder the loveseat wasn’t shaking. Miry stepped back a bit, settling into a bit of a defensive position and glaring at Qeynate (and conveniently forgetting that she weighed all of sixty pounds and could simply be held up in the air and rendered completely ineffective.)

But Zakroti defused the situation. In the kerfuffle that followed, Miry managed to entirely lose track of what was going on. Zakroti and Qeynate left, Vain and Kilio offered daggers. Miry took two, offering one to her sister, but Aery flinched away. So Miry held both daggers. Of course, she then gently set both down on the floor again to hug her sister tightly, mumbling reassurances. She quickly plaited her hair, twisting the braid up into a bun, so that it wouldn’t get in her way or be grabbable.

Then she turned to her twin, once again wrapping her arms around her. This time, at least, the embrace was returned, though Aery pressed her face against Miry’s shoulder, crying again. The littler twin rubbed her sister’s back until she calmed again, then faced her with hard eyes. “If it starts looking ugly, run and hide in the washroom. Take a blade and run and send anyone who comes after you to meet their gods.” Miry kissed Aery’s forehead again and pulled away, picking up a blade from the floor and clutching it in her left hand. Her whole body was visibly shaking as she took a place next to Kasari, somewhat hyperventilating and seeming to panic. She had no idea what was going on. There was no plan—

Wait a second. She noticed the tendrils of steam curling up from her hand and frowned as she looked down to her right arm, watching the thin tendrils of water that crawled up her skin releasing steam. Steam… Oh.

“Aery, I’m going to come hug you for a moment. I need you.” Miry put the blade down on the floor for a moment, wandering back over to the couch and plopping down next to her twin. Aery was looking at her in confusion. Miry pointed to the steam still rising from her arm but Aery clearly didn’t quite comprehend, so the little twin leaned in and whispered, a grin crossing her face. Then Aery got it, a giggle, albeit a somewhat strained one that soon disintegrated into a gasp of pain, escaping her lips.

“What are you giggling about, Miry?” the voice came from the corner of the room. Both twins whirled to face Ayltam, who was grinning at them.

“It’s a use for our elements that Aery and I came up with. I make steam, and then she pushes it all into a really small area, and it gets really hot, and then when we let go of it, well… it kinda explodes.” The tiny twin looked up at Ayltam, whose eyes were sparkling as she seemingly understood what the twins were doing. Miry voiced the next thought before Ayltam could. “If you can help compress the air around these and hold them together?” The drakken girl gave her a nod, and so she went back to work.

Miry raised her hands, calling a large blob of water between them from every source of water that was within range of her, her eyes going a little unfocused as she started turning every bit of it into steam. It was a lot harder to control steam than water, like grabbing at air, and so took a lot more energy. But she got it sectioned apart into three white, rippling clouds. One in the doorway, two to either side of it on the inside of the room. She held them there, biting her lip with the effort of holding them there.

Aery raised her hands too, causing little gusts of wind to circulate through the room, wrapping around the clouds of steam and shrinking them slowly. After a few moments of watching, Ayltam joined in, and the process was sped up. It took only a few moments more before there were three faintly shimmering sections in the air as the only sign that something was amiss. If someone was to brush up against them they would simply feel a slippery, very smooth but rather hard surface about as large as a fist. And then they’d quit feeling anything as they would get a cloud of highly energized, extremely hot, steam in their face.

Miry let out a squeaking noise, her body shaking from the energy she’d used, and spoke again. “Let go of them, Ayltam. Aery and I can hold them. We just needed help assembling them.” She leaned back, curling against her twin’s side, hands folding tightly into fists. Holding the traps wasn’t quite as bad as putting them together but it still expended a lot of energy. Oh well. She was at least doing her part.

---

What really snapped Cuwarr out of his melodic reverie were the loud steps and hisses from an unmistakable Lord Huron who seemed adamant in dragging his wife towards the inner recesses of the castle. While definitely imposing on both stature and strength, Cuwarr couldn't help but be mildly amused at Huron's 'wife problems'. Not only was this drakken notorious for having already lost four of his past wives, but even now, he continued to fail utterly in front of Sorrak's face. Let it be known that Cuwarr already branded the gruff drakken as too desperate, too ugly, and too repulsive to be able to keep a proper wife. Truth be told, his wives won when he snapped their necks because they would have been freed from an uncultured swine like Lugft. However, the small drama piqued Cuwarr's interest, and while he didn't really concern himself with the affairs of most drakkens, he couldn't help but feel excited at the prospect of fighting.

No matter how much Cuwarr tries to distance himself from the drakken roots, the fact remains that deep down, he was still a true-blooded warrior of Drakka. And, the prospect of war and blood sent pleasurable tingles down his spine.

Plus, there was more to this than what meets the eye.

So, while his wives were not in view, Cuwarr deftly strode over to the enraged Huron, nimbly jogging just a few paces behind. "I've caught wind of your problem, Lord Huron." Cuwarr spoke, not really minding personal boundaries or formalities. "And, I wish to offer my assistance. As you may know, Unalim has been quite a thorn to my benefactors' sides. He has injured a lot of my clients in the years that he had done his useless series of executions to gain power, and I suffered some financial losses on my end. As a Warlord, as well, I cannot condone what he had done, and rightfully so, the bride belongs to you."

Cuwarr leaped, putting a few bursts of winds to place a spring in his step. The warlord landed upon one of the stone ledges beside Huron as he crouched with his hands resting on stop his knees. "The Deathsworn are expert marksmen. And, not only that, I am a renowned developer of weapons. I may be able to give you some resources to take back what is yours." Cuwarr grinned, looking at the terrified wife in Huron's grasp. "And, Unalim's actions have personally offended me." The warlord hopped of the stone ledge before grinning at the two. "If you accept my assistance, I'll be in the dining hall with my wives. Send word for me through your guards, and I will be beside you as swift as the winds."

The warlord took one last look at Huron and the gem before heading for the grand staircase where, just in time, he saw his wives descending together. They appeared to be conversing, and while the two of them could not be any more different (with Sorici being the more dangerous one), they looked beautiful in their focus and calm. He remembered his mother wearing these kinds of dresses, but while the common blokes only saw her as a walking piece of flesh around her core, Cuwarr saw a goddess made flesh. And, he wasn't so sure if he could stop himself from saying the same of his wives. How gemminites had this kind of beauty and allure was beyond the bewildered warlord, but he decided to just do something rather than to gawk at them. So, he pulled out the flute from his side, playing a soft, slow melody like those of slow dances and slow-beating hearts. Then, he stopped in front of them, taking their hands in his before squeezing gently. "And, here I thought you would appear like poor birds who failed to find shelter from the rain." At this, the warlord tilted his head before planting a quick kiss on the back of their hands. "Yet, I find two rainbow lorikeets in front of me."

The warlord let go of their hands before descending the steps. "Breakfast has been prepared for us, my dears. If all goes well, we'll be able to go home by tonight." Cuwarr assured them as the Deathsworn, his bodyguards, converged on their master. The drakken uttered a few quick instructions which caused the four warriors to scatter, as if left to their own devices. "Oh, and I can really feel that something big will happen this morning. You can only tame a beast for so long before it lashes out of its cage." The warlord's lips parted in a wicked grin as he looked at the spot where Huron was last seen. "Anyway," Cuwarr turned to Kalani and Sorici. "Come, and eat. This food has been prepared for all of us, my dears. You will need to eat to regain your strength." The drakken pulled out two chairs for them, his hand beckoning for them to take part in the morning feast.

Kalani could understand where Sorici was coming from, but she didn't necessarily agree with her. On the other hand, it was a pleasant surprise that Sorici had actually talked back to her. As the two were walking down the steps, Kalani answered,"I actually like him. He is strange but I think I could learn to love him." She then blushed lightly, feeling a bit embarrassed by her own words.

The two gems were soon spotted by their husband. He began to play his flute again as he approached them. This time it was a sweeter, more gentle melody. Was this going to be a thing? Not that Kalani minded. She had failed to understand his weird metaphor about birds but offered her husband a smile. "Thank you, mi'lord," she said, under the impression that he was complimenting them.

The trio continued down the stairs together rather cheerfully and walked towards the dining room. A few Draakens were already there with their brides. Some brides seemed worse off than the others and Kalani could not help but pity them. At the same time, she had reached a jarringly obvious realization. With Cuwarr, she had forgotten that she was merely a prize that he had won. This was not supposed to be a marriage of love, but sacrifice. Yet he had treated them so kindly; she doesn't know what to feel. Did she only like him because he was not cruel as of so far? Because it was the only thing to do as she has no other choice? Maybe Sorici was right after all. Kalani didn't know what to think.

She sat down in the chair that Cuwarr had pulled out for her and Sorici. "Thank you, mi'lord," she said politely before grabbing some food. She wasn't feeling very hungry, but at least got some fruits. When she took her first bite, the sweet taste of the pears had made her crave something more salty and she could feel her appetite returning. She ate more and began to reach for some rolls that she had sampled earlier this morning in their chamber.

Her husband had spoken about something big that was going to happen and Kalani was a bit suspicious. She had followed his gaze only to have it land an empty chair. "I wonder what he's talking about. Perhaps he is speaking in his weird metaphors again," she thought to herself, though she wasn't going to let her guard down this time.

There was a change of plans. Exon had only been walking towards the ruckus for a few moments when his brother, Atreyu if it matters, appeared by his side. Apparently a note had come for the family late in the night. Zeska, one of his ….less agreeable cousins, had made a challenge for Atreyu’s land while the brothers were away.

After a few quick words, it was decided that the family would leave at once, leaving behind Panitra make final arrangements and to pack up. They would have to travel quick and light. Meaning Exon could only take on of his brides with him at the moment. There simply wasn’t enough room for both of them to ride with him, slight as they were.

Exon glanced at his brides. In truth, he would probably lose whichever wife he chose to leave behind. But he had to help his brother, after all, they girls were only brides. “Come, Sairi, we are leaving,” he barked taking the girls arm “Nadia, return to my rooms at once, I'll send for you later” he then took Sairi and lead her quickly out.

Aeila gripped the hilt of the dagger, gently willing it to press into his throat and kill him. But the knife didn't move an inch and she slowly came to the conclusion that she couldn't kill him. She wasn't like the rest of her people - she was weak and useless and he easily could have cast her aside. He didn't kill her even though he had the chance to and there she was, ready to slit his throat at a moment's notice. Just as she was to pull the knife away, his voice rose from the tub and she found herself shivering, suddenly finding need to grab the knife once more.

For all her threats, she barely even lasted a few seconds before his blast of water produced a small yelp from her and the knife cluttered to the floor. She expected an outcome a lot worse but being soaked in front of him wasn't exactly gratifying.

Almost immediately, her head dipped in shame and she hugged herself, trying to hold body-heat as she came to the realization that her only pair of clothes were completely drenched. This was bad. Knowing Azilon, she suspected he would leave her in them to suffer but surprisingly, he left and returned, bearing a thin tunic which he quickly handed over to her.

Aeila's eyes went wide almost immediately and she blushed but she knew she had no choice. Hypothermia would set in and she'd be well and truly gone. Even if she didn't have a choice, she still raised her eyes to his and fidgeted, avoiding his nudity. "Turn around..."

Azilon rolled his eyes with a chuckle before glancing down at the shivering child. He hadn't really thought about the fact that she might not have been used to the colder climates. It didn't really bother him any, but he was used to the coolness of shadows and dampness of water... If her chattering teeth were any indication, Azilon realized that she wasn't and now he had just dumped water over her head. Cursing himself silently, the man growled and partially ignored her request to turn around. Throwing the tunic over his shoulder, Azilon grabbed for the closest towel and tossed it over her head so that she could dry the water droplets from her hair as well.

"You women and your modesty, it's not like you have anything I want Sprite. But it'll get rather annoying if you're sneezing and snuffling the whole ride home so either you can ditch the clothes now, or I'm going to help you out of them. Which will it be?" He stated, taking a step forward to emphasize his serious tone. Normally he wouldn't care but she was just so small... It reminded him vaguely of a kitten he had once encountered in the rain. Such a sad creature, so cold and alone... He hated just thinking about it. 

At the sound of his growl, she thought she had angered him and instantly flinched. Her older brother, the heir to the throne, became angered often and she found that the warning signs were a good time to leave. She didn't have that opportunity in that moment, however, so her eyes naturally drifted down to where the knife lay on the ground and she cleared her throat before yelping as her vision was suddenly darkened and something fussy was placed on her head. Pausing momentarily, her hands slowly crawled up to the towel and dragged it away so her eyes were free once more. She didn't trust Azilon and if he wished to do something, there was no one to stop him.

His threat brought a shocked look to her face, painting her as the normal deer in the headlights as she took a defensive step back. No one had ever been that blunt with her before. It served as a reminder of her position but judging by the look in his eyes, his threat was very real. She stopped entirely and was convinced that no action was the best course of action but as soon as he took another step forward, she found her hands reaching up to the top of the dress.

Working the strings loose, she got about two thirds of the way down before she withdrew her fingers and presented her half-exposed back to him. "C-Could you help me please...?"

Azilon hesitated as Aeila flinched back, standing his ground with a scowl as she shakily began untying her own dress. Satisfied by this he crossed his arms and stared off to the side until his attention was recalled by her quiet voice. Shifting his gaze back down to look at her he was met with her mostly exposed back, the last portion of the strings too awkwardly placed for her to reach herself. Sighing at her request, Azilon stepped forward with a disapproving expression.

"You've never had to do a damn thing by yourself, have you?" He asked with a grunt, kneeling down so that he could better see the strings he was untying. Quickly but carefully he loosened the remaining portion of her dress before standing back up to full height and crossing his arms.

"Geez, what am I going to do with you? You flinch at every sound, you can't kill anyone, and you can barely undress yourself without help..." Shaking his head, Azilon sighed again and looked down at her. This time his eyes full of concern. He couldn't understand how a Drakken, no matter how much they took after their Gemminite parent, could be so frail. Scoot was incredibly capable, but then again he himself could barely remember what the guy had been like when he was first brought to the estate. Reaching his hand up, Azilon pulled the tunic from his shoulder and offered it out to Aeila once again maintaining a neutral expression.

"I have a question for you if you don't mind my impertinence."

She kept quiet as she heard the brush of his clothes while he knelt to the ground and untied the remainder of the strings. Her hand quickly rose to her chest, holding the dress against her torso so it didn't slip down and completely reveal her. She was quick to answer when he first questioned her, eyes surprisingly stormy as she wheeled about on him. "I was never allowed to do anything by myself, I'll have you know! Father let me into the royal library and I could sometimes go out into the gardens but it was only when the Warlords and their families had went home for the winter." Her tone shifted into something surprisingly hopeful as she stared off into the distance. It wasn't long until it took a quieter, more reserved tone. "This was my first time outside the citadel walls ever since I was a little girl..." Giving him one last look, she stayed silent at his next question and took the tunic, turning away from him.

Looking back over her shoulder to make sure he wasn't watching, she allowed the dress to slip off her before she quickly threw the tunic over her head, darting her arms through and instantly pulling it down to cover her nudity. Fixing the gifted clothing, she stepped out of the crumpled dress around her feet and lifted it, folding it silently as he questioned her once more. "Yes?"

Turning on his heel Azilon exited the bathing room, his yet to be asked question an obvious call for her to follow him. Nabbing a robe for himself, he wrapped the expensive cloth around his body and tied its belt around his waist before setting to work lighting a fire in the room's fireplace. He remained silent for a little while, eyes focused intently on his work of bringing warmth to the room, and even afterwards as he stared at the flickering light for a while before backing away. Settling down on the floor, the Drakken Lord crossed his legs and leaned back on his arms to stare up at the ceiling.

"This brother of yours... no, the entire royal family sounds like a bunch of bone munching idiots. I'm sure if you had bided your time, eventually you would have been able to kill your brother and earn yourself a standing. Sure you would have been met with some pushback... but you most certainly wouldn't have been the first Drakken in history to kill a family member in order to escape the chains they were put under. So I guess my question boils down to this: Of all the time spent in the castle, the oppression keeping you beneath their boots, why with all of that challenging you did you never try to prove yourself?" His face was still turned toward the ceiling but his eyes had shifted to look at her as he asked his question. There was something about the way that she spoke, the tone of her voice, that hinted that she had never attempted to rebel however he of all people knew how wrong an assumption like that could be. After all, the longer this girl spoke... The more he realized just how similar they actually were.

She blinked at him, expecting the question and when it didn't come, she stared as he moved into the main room. Pacing into the room after him, she watched with somewhat demanding eyes as he bent down and stoked the fire, bringing it to life and warming the room in a moment before finding a comfortable place on the floor and dumping himself down. After raising his eyes to the ceiling, he finally chose to elaborate on his original question. Sweeping her eyes to the ground, she gently lowered herself down before sliding her legs in under her body so that her modesty was somewhat retained. She waited for him to finish and extended the silence for another minute before finally choosing to answer.

"I guess... Well... I always wanted to see outside the Citadel. And I always wanted to see something more than pity in my father's eyes but..." She didn't know why opening her heart to him served her any good but she'd be dead soon enough anyways. Might as well have someone know. "I was scared. Even if I didn't like my condition, it was safe. I had read the history of Drakka, I had listened to my father and his talks of war, I knew that it was a cold, horrid place and I chose to stay away. They tried to make me bite back, to kick and scream. 'It's the Drakken way', they said, but would good would hurting them do? It would make me feel good but then the adrenaline would slip away and the happiness would go with it and then I'd be left an empty shell with nothing left to define me except for the fact that I slit my brother's throat while he slept." She finally slumped down, intertwining her fingers before finally peeking up at him, large eyes wavering.

"What a pitiful way to live." He growled though the sound held little malice, seeming more bored than anything. So similar and yet so different were their tales. Their meddling and her suffering had only pushed her further into the paralyzing grip of complacency. Azilon understood the methods they had tried to employ, but unfortunately they hadn't taken to Aeila in the same way they had taken to him. It made him wonder if there was something else to it. Perhaps something she herself did not yet recognize. Shaking his head, Azilon pushed the sentiment aside and yawned before sinking further back on the floor until he was lying flat with his head supported by his arms. His stomach tightened silently with hunger and he found himself wondering where his usually punctual servant had made his way off to. Deciding that it didn't matter Azilon stretched himself out and listened for the popping of various joints. As he relaxed, his eyes drifted shut and his breathing evened out giving off the impression that he had fallen asleep yet again.

"The world isn't as terrifying as you've been made to believe. Sure it's harsh and it can be quite difficult, but it is apart of the true 'Drakken way' to accept these hardships and face them head on. That family of yours had it wrong, well not completely but mostly. You've already proven you have what it takes to be a decent Drakken, you just need a little push in the right direction. This should be entertaining indeed." He chuckled, his neutral expression twisting into an amused grin.

She thought he would at least have a shred of sympathy but Azilon surprised her at every turn. Sure it may have been pitiful but his life wasn't that much better. Grumbling under her breath, Aeila stood up once more and set about looking a bit busy. She tried to resist talking back to him because she knew that he derived a sort of weird fun from this but she couldn't help it. "No. I don't need a push. I'm not a Drakken. I know I have these... Things..." She made a casual swipe at her horns as she rounded on him. "...But I'm not one of you. I don't kill people just to get one step higher on the rung. You think because you're messed up that everyone around you is a murderous psychopath?" Snorting, her eyes darkened as her eyebrows furrowed. She didn't know why he annoyed her exactly but he did and that was enough. "What a pitiful way to live." She was quite proud of that one.

Azilon sat up, turning his head to stare at the girl. For a moment he wasn't completely sure he had heard her correctly, but the fierce look in her eyes assured him that he had. He didn't know whether to be shocked, amused, or irritated with her so he ended up just staring at her blankly for a solid minute before bursting out in laughter. It was the kind of laughter that cramped at the sides and brought tears to his eyes, shaking his entire body to the core.

"Who would have thought I'd be eating my own words, thrown right back at me by a little sprite who rejects her own heritage. I'm glad Scoot wasn't here, he'd never let me live it down." He said when he could finally breathe again, eyes focusing back on Aeila with an inquisitive look.

"I just don't understand you. You continue to claim that you are not Drakken, yet here you are losing your temper and attacking the person who insulted you... Granted this is the least violent attack I have ever encountered, but a taunt aimed at pride often has the effect of provoking sloppy strikes. Perfect strategy for one your size. But I would like to remind you that while we are both devilishly handsome, I am not your brother and thus do not think like your brother. My goal is not and never has been greedy in nature. I kill to survive and if that means reminding others every so often who holds the power, then by all means I'm going to remind these animals of just how cruel I can become. You're cute Sprite, but I wouldn't try pushing your luck just yet... I'd hate for you to forget who the alpha is around here." His voice took on a chilly tone, contrasting greatly with the amusement in his eyes. It wasn't as if he was going to deny her claim that he was a murderous psychopath... After all, what fun would there be in lying?

She remained proud until he started laughing and then her pride turned to annoyance as she regarded him. She didn't open her mouth but her look was enough to tell him she wasn't too pleased. Her petty anger continued as he sat up and his tone took a completely different turn. At that, her anger faded away like the wind, her lips parting slightly as she took a step back. He was right, even if she didn't like it and his words felt like a punch to the gut. She wasn't one of them... She had promised herself all those years that she would never be like them. She wouldn't use anger and bitterness as her weapons and yet here she was, using anger and bitterness. Her chin fell once more and she dodged his gaze as she wrung her fingers together. 

Aeila may have been many things but she wasn't dumb and there was no point wasting her life just to get one-up on him. So, although hesitantly, she swallowed her pride and gave a curt nod in response. "I-I'm sorry, I should not have spoke out of line." Her words sounded fairly fabricated but there was a shaky fear present and that was enough to confirm that his words had affected her.

Looking at Aeila retreat a couple of steps and stutter her way through an apology almost made Azilon feel bad for threatening her the way that  he did... Almost. He had gotten his point across and she wasn't going to forget it anytime soon, however it was also a step back in getting her to act like a proper Drakken. Sighing internally, he realized he had a long way to go though he couldn't quite figure out why he wanted to help her so much. It was very likely that once she finally began acting like her own kind, she would actually succeed in killing him but for some reason the thought didn't bother him much, if at all. In fact, it was almost a comforting thought very much like a promise that one day she would get to bite back at the hands that stole from her. One thing was clear, however... He was going to have to get creative, as the methods that had worked on him were definitely not going to work with her. It was probably similar methods that drove her to such a submissive state. Deciding that he had some serious thinking to do, Azilon's once cold aura returned to its neutral state as he smiled at Aeila.

"Don't worry about it. Making mistakes is what the learning process is all about. But you'll have plenty of time to figure that all out later, for now you need to stop inching away from the fire and sit your butt back down here. I told you before, it's going to get annoying real fast if I have to listen to you sniffle the whole way home."

The smile seemed completely out of place on his face given his previous outburst but then again, she was also guilty of outbursts. Aeila found an odd comfort in his smile, however. She knew he was nothing like her brother but when her brother smiled, it typically was a bad sign because he was enjoying himself and Rynek only ever enjoyed himself when he was doing something awful. Azilon's moods were much more... Black and white. When he was angry, it was clear he was angry; when he wasn't, it was fairly obvious and in that situation, he seemed safe, relatively speaking. His smile seemed brutally honest and she found herself hesitantly placing one foot in front of the other and closing the distance between them. Finally, she was about a meter away from him when she chose to kneel down close to the fire and offered her hands out in silent prayer to the flames.

After a long pause where only the cracking of the wood filled the room with any noise, Aeila chose to speak up. "I don't want to offend you but I would sooner throw myself off the roof of this castle than change into one of the monsters around me. I don't know if it's an odd justification of your lifestyle or just another ploy to sow chaos but you won't change me." Her voice was firm yet quiet and the entire time, her eyes never left the leaping flames.

"We'll see."

@NarcissisticPotato

A light breeze caused the long silken curtain to flutter. The nude girl standing in the middle of the room shivered as goosebumps appeared on her fair skin. Multiple servants stood around her, each working on a different task. Some brushed her soft white hair until it gleamed in their hands. Others rubbed fine but subtle scented oils into her skin. Others brushed khol ink around her eyes, to frame them and make the sapphire blue color pop against her pale face, and dabbed a mixture made of crushed pink flowers onto her lips, making them appear fuller.

Finally Treema, the head maid and the woman who had been her nursemaid and governess since she was a child, stepped foward with a pale blue dress made of the finest silk they had. It was with tears that she dressed her little one for the last time. Pulling a golden belt around her waist, a symbal of her chastity and the status of her family, the older woman stood back and tried to smile.

"My little one, you look beautiful," she said.
"Thank you Mee-ma," Amalia said, using the title she had called the maid when she was a small child.
Impulsively the older woman reached out and hugged the girl-child. "Out. All of you," she ordered and all of the younger servants went scurrying away. When they were alone Treema began braiding small bits of her hair on either side of her head, pulling them back and fastening them with a tie in order to keep the hair out of the girl's face. "Remember little one, the only way to even hope for safety and security is for you to entice a Drakken in high standing. Even if he is ugly as sin itself and smells like death warmed over, once he claims you as his property no one will dare touch you. And if he is taken enough with your beauty he will endeavor to retain that beauty by not harming you."
Amalia nodded mechanically. She had been told this many times before, since she had turned 12 and had her first woman's time. Once her first bleeding had occured her mother had informed her of her eventual fate. Both of her parents had kept their distance since then, perhaps in an attempt to lessen the blow of losing their only daughter.

Amalia had grown up with only Treema and few servants for company. Her older brothers, four in all, kept away mostly as well. She didn't blame them for this. Whenever she did see them, the look of shame in their faces was enough to make her not want to see them either. She understood that they wished desperately to save her, but there was truly nothing that could do that wouldn't lead to war. The current peace was delicate and as thin as frost. Any misstep could lead to centuries of bloodshed and the eventual extinction of her people.

Amalia barely spoke and when she did it was in quiet tones and in as few words as possible. She had been groomed and tutored to be the perfect pet. A beautiful bird to sing and be kept in a cage, to be enjoyed at her master's whim. Amalia knew how to cook, clean, sew, weave, could play the harp and sing like an angel. Drawing had been attempted but abandoned, as had horseback riding.

Outside of the window, the town was silent. The people, who worked her father's land and lived under his protection as their liegelord, mourned for her already. They loved the fair maiden who was like an angel to them, the very embodiment of the Great Mother herself.

Amalia Solair, born of Earth and Sky. That is what they called her.

"It is time my little one," Treema finally said, turning her to face forward and brushing her shoulders and face. There was nothing there, but the older woman was stretching out their time together, fussing over her little one for the last time.
Amalia stared at her with warmth and love. Reaching forward, she hugged her tightly. "I love you Treema," she said, her voice breaking.
Treema hugged her back just as tightly, as though they could stop time if they stayed that way. Finally there was a hesitant but solid knock on the door.
Pulling back, Treema, crying in earnest now, held Amalia's face in her hands. "Whoever choses you, HE is the fortunate one. HE is the one who should be grateful and HE is the one who is blessed by the Gods. No matter how the Drakken's act or speak to you, remember : the Great Mother sees all. Embody her patience, her love, her grace, her purity in all that you do and say and she will bless you."
Amalia nodded. "May the Great Mother look kindly on you Treema."

One of her father's men stood at the door, ready to guide her down to the waiting carriage. The golden carriage, with her family's crest, would taken her to the border before handing her off to the Drakken who would conduct her the rest of the way.

Sunlight bathed the courtyard. Many people had gathered to watch her leave. Amalia hid her astonishment that her parents were there as well. They both stood stoic, but she could see the hurt in their eyes.
She presented herself to them with her head high but her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. Her mother embraced her child, not speaking. Her father laid a heavy hand on her shoulder.
"Do not forget this land," were the only words he spoke to her.

Amalia climbed into the carriage and didn't look back as it set off. She finally allowed the tears that she had been holding to fall freely from her eyes.
Ahead of her loomed darkness and the unknown. Ahead were monsters and creatures of the damned. Ahead was her future, shrouded in pain, fear and shadow. What could a creature of light do but weep.
"Great Mother...," she prayed in her tears, "Hear my plea... Faithful and obedient I have been... I beg you to turn your gaze to me... take me into your embrace as your beloved child... give me the strength to face the evil... protect me Mother... protect me... I beg you..."

The morning brought a rude awakening as the carriage jolted to a stop. The door opened and a black gloved hand reached in to snag the arm she had thrown up to defend herself.

"She's the last to arrive?"
"Yes. Tiny thing huh?" The black clothed guard who currently held her arm commented to another, eyeing her up and down. The gaze was not lustful, more judgmental. "This whole second batch is on the small side."
"How long do you think most of them will last?"
"Considering how many bodies they have been carrying out this morning, not long. The Gems are getting smaller and more delicate every year."

To be talked about and manhandled like a piece of furniture was demeaning and humiliating. Amalia tried to keep her head high and ignore the words spoken, pretending they were not about her.
She was taken to a group of other females, all shivering and shaking, most weeping and several still as statues, their faces blank and their eyes empty of life. Amalia's heart clenched in her chest and she felt like weeping herself. Was she to end up like these girls, empty shells?
No. She refused to be that way. Amalia felt a great calm over her. The fear was still there, but also a sense of quiet dignity she knew had to be from the Great Mother herself. She was blessing her servant with the strength of mind to face this atrocity and maintain her composure.
As children did with a mother the other girls clung to Amalia, her calm drawing them to her as a beacon. There was nothing she could do to protect them or herself, but still they clung to her in the hope that some of her mental and emotional composure would rub off on them, give them the strength needed.

From the guards speaking around them Amalia learned that the choosing ceremony had actually happened the day before. Her group had been brought in as backups, replacements for the women who had not survived their wedding night. They were to be paraded around, leered at, appraised and then claimed to perhaps share the same fate as their now dead countrywomen.

Amalia kept picturing the Great Mother in her mind, trying to project outward. Her face was passive, her eyes fearful but reserved, her hands shaking but firmly wrapped around the girls that clung to her, her heart beat erratic but strong, her breathing shaky but deep.
Once the creatures, she refused to call them men, wandered into the hall where they were standing, many looked at her. Her white hair made her stand out. Several of the creatures even wandered over to touch her hair and she had to struggle not to gag at their smell.
They laughed at the girls they scared and the younger ones were taken quickly. It sickened Amalia, making her want to throw up even though her stomach was empty. Apparently it was their 'husband/masters' that decided whether or not they were fed.

The waiting was terrifying. She wished they would get on with it. Knowing what was coming but having to wait and agonize over it was worse than anything.

The day waned almost too quickly, and soon, Cuwarr found himself seated in the rapidly vacating long dinner table alongside his Kalani and Sorici. It wasn't surprising why the drakkens left for their rooms with their wives in tow, nor would it take a genius to realize what the brutes intend to do behind the closed doors. Well, hopefully, these brides survive the night unlike their sisters from last time. Cuwarr grimaced at the thought, chatting up his brides in an effort to distract their attention from the gloomy fate that sealed the destiny of their sisters. Thus, Cuwarr began talking about how much he appreciated the gemminite arts, marveling at how intricate and well-planned their pieces were. Music, colors, dances-- every single performance made the warlord's jaw drop in awe, and he couldn't help but lavish these joys on the two women who sat near him.

"And, yes, dear," Cuwarr continued, munching a piece of chicken between his canines. Though he exhibits a demeanor unfitting that of a drakken, it would seem that even Cuwarr himself still held the drakken roots within him-- like, talking while chewing. "I bought all of those paintings. They all hang in my castle right now. I just couldn't stop thinking about those masterpieces; I really had to get my hands on them." Cuwarr looked at Kalani and Sorici, perfectly happy to be surrounded by his two wives. As the dinner went on, most of the drakkens and gems already went back to their quarters, leaving only the trio at the table along with some other drakkens who chose to finish the left overs. Cuwarr's storytelling went on and on, going from the gemminite arts to his prowess as a marksman. For some reason, most would realize why the warlord's bodyguards absolutely looked relieved that Cuwarr found himself brides-- this way, someone else would be forced to listen to his tales.

But, really, he couldn't stop his mouth. Stories always piqued the warlord's interest, and he would gladly listen to any story offered to him. When he did try to ask some details from his brides, the two of them just kept mum and refused to tell him any. While it was understandable, he felt quite disappointed that he never really learned anything new about these two gems. But, if they do not tell him a story, then, by the gods, Cuwarr would tell them his. So, he reached the story of his gemminite mother, and how much he adored her when a sudden lash from Sorici stunned the warlord.

"I suppose you really loved your mother that you didn't think about setting her free." Sorici interjected, a slight snarl in the way the words left her lips.

Cuwarr took a moment to compose himself, feeling a stinging sensation down his core at the words uttered. If anything Cuwarr would have wanted to set his mother free, but it was not his decision to make. Still a fledgling, Stezius, his father, controlled everything that happened inside the Naxremis fortress. And, even if Cuwarr heard his mother's pained screams as his ruthless father ravaged her without mercy, he could do nothing but wait for the shadows to pass. After all, no dawn comes without darkness. Every bruise, every wound his mother sustained brought Cuwarr closer to plotting his revenge against Stezius, and everything came to pass when the bloke was dishonored. As a parting gift, Cuwarr shot his father right between the eyes as the older drakken was tied to the rear of a pig while his manhood twitched inside the swine's cavity. Brutality. The drakkens did it best, and Stezius should have thought of that before tormenting his mother to death.

"Oh, I would have, my dear lotus, but I was not in power yet." Cuwarr forced a smile, taking into consideration that Sorici had always been the fiercer of the pair. "It is not beyond a drakken to not feel remorse. Just take a look at Lady Beneni. Why else would she come here to take a bride. Surely, it's not to be intimate with the gems. She comes here to safeguard the women from the blokes like Huron." The warlord glanced at Kalani, hoping that she felt more at ease with him. "But, I assure you, you shall not find the same tyrant in me as your husband."

"It is useless to fool the crows, Cuwarr," The way his name fell off of her lips sent shivers down Cuwarr's spine. Her very voice was laced with venom, and she dripped insults with every syllable. "What you're doing-- all the stupid things you're doing... they are nothing but a facade. Pathetic. Do not taint the gemminite culture with your bloodline so rotten that a filthy pig would be a better husband than you can ever be. You know what a good drakken is? One that is hanging from the gallows whilst the birds feast on his bones." Sorici spat, a dark glint on her lips. "You want to be a good husband? Get a noose, and Kalani and I will help you out."

At the onslaught of insults, even the stoic warlord's hand twitched. In any normal circumstance with other drakkens, she would have been planted face down on the table, clothes torn from her body while a knife plunged through her head. Her corpse would have been violated over and over again by the minions of the drakken lord she insulted. But, he couldn't bear to hurt her. His mother once lectured him on why gemminites were suppressed, maltreated. And, while he never really understood the effects then, he could surely see it now. Sorici, his white lotus, reddening with rage as her fingers clenched the table cloth. He wondered what the drakkens did to her for such a woman to this hostile to them, but he really tried his best to put himself in her shoes.

He experienced the same rage against his father, and perhaps, he and Sorici were not so different after all.

"I understand your rage, my dear lotus, but--" Cuwarr began, but was soon interrupted as Sorici shook her head.

"I apologize for my behavior." Sorici bowed her head, causing Cuwarr to raise his brow in surprise. "Just, please, hand me the plate of chicken."

A smile curved Cuwarr's lips, hopeful that perhaps Sorici would give him a chance before judging his being. "Of course, my dear." Cuwarr reached down the table, grabbing the plate with the chicken on it. The roasted poultry with a knife sticking out of it was passed down to Sorici, but before Cuwarr could let go of the plate, he realized he was too late to see the malicious intent behind Sorici's smile.

"Thank you, my husband." In a flash, Sorici pulled the knife from the food, slashing it vertically at the warlord who failed to react in time.

And, so, Cuwarr only had a split-second's worth to tilt his head backwards, causing the knife to slice at soft flesh beneath his jaw-- just a few centimeters away from his jugulars. Sorici knew how to handle blades, and if Cuwarr were any normal drakken, the slash would have proven fatal. As blood dripped down Cuwarr's throat, Sorici went in again, her hand gripping the knife in an ice-pick hold. She jumped at the warlord, landing on his torso as she raised her hand to bring down the knife once more in order to seal the deal. But, Cuwarr, having gripped himself, brought his arms up in a cross, effectively shielding himself from the knife as it dangled dangerously close to his forehead. Sorici had no intention to give Cuwarr time to recuperate, and channeled her affinity with the earth. Her eyes glanced at the spiked decorations dangling from the pillars, and since they were made from earth, she glared at the warlord with immense fury. The spikes ejected from their space, hurtling towards Cuwarr whose teeth gritted in frustration.

At this point, the four deathsworn guards sprinted back inside the dining hall, just in time for them to see the lethal spikes heading for their master. Even the drakkens seated near the table began to stand up, but before anyone could do anything further, Cuwarr muttered out a deep incantation. The archaic words he spouted from his lips echoed in a chorus as a barrage of whipping winds lashed around him, deflecting the spikes and launching Sorici a few feet away. She slammed against the nearby wall, and before she could stand, the deathsword guards were on her, pinning the woman to the floor as Pezach unsheathed his blade.

"You whore," Pezach snarled, raising his blade before deftly bringing it down towards Sorici's neck. "I'll teach you to harm our lord!"

But, before the blade could touch Sorici's flesh, another burst of wind parried Pezach's sword which caused it to spin out of his grasp. The guard tried to mumble his surprise, but Cuwarr motioned for him to keep quiet.

"No." Cuwarr strode over to Sorici, not sparing a glance at Kalani. "Why?"

"I have seen my sisters lose the life from their eyes because of your kind! My sister is there, yet not complete. Never to be complete again." The woman spat at Cuwarr as she struggled out of the hold. "Like a ghost stuck in the mortal realm yet unable to pass on, my sisters have suffered. They died without a fight, but that will not be the same of me! I would rather die fighting than to die a coward!" Sorici began to laugh as a twisted look invaded her features. "You may kill me, but that mark on your throat will be a reminder that no matter how hard you try, you will never be loved. You don't deserve to be loved, because you're a drakken. No drakken deserves peace!"

"I've had enough!" Qiorach roared as he launched his fists at her, but an arrow soared past his fingers, prompting the guard to freeze in place.

"I will not have her blood spilling these grand halls." Cuwarr instructed, his voice striking a tone colder. "Pezach, take her outside near the window. Bind her to the ground and come back at once."

The instructions were quickly followed as Cuwarr strode over to the window overlooking the bound Sorici who thrashed against her ropes that pinned her to the earth. A crowd had gathered near the window as well, trying to get a glimpse of the execution. The warlord held his bow tighter as he passed by Kalani, pausing just in front of her. Cuwarr instructed the deathsworn to veer the crowd to his right side, leaving only Kalani and a few gemminites to witness the 'death' of their sister while being able to look at the full facial features of the enraged warlord. Cuwarr aimed down his bow using his left hand, notching an arrow in the right as he pulled back the string. A series of stretching sounds emanated as the arrow was pulled. Then, after a split second, the bolt soared through the air before striking Sorici's ropes, freeing the woman.

"If you can flee without being struck, you may live." Cuwarr called out to Sorici as the drakken crowd was incited to an excitement at such a spectacle. Of course, the deathsworn knew that the woman would not live. Cuwarr possessed the keenest eye among all the drakkens, and there was no doubt that his arrow would fly straight and true. Sorici began her desperate dash as she sprinted barefoot through the clearing.

Cuwarr notched another arrow, pulling it back before muttering something under his breath. The arrow flew with deadly speed, chasing after the woman. And, soon, the bolt was flying in the right angle that it would hit Sorici's back, but before it could touch her, the lone arrow spun out of control as it hurtled away from the fleeing gem. The crowd murmured in surprise at the missed shot, but Cuwarr only aimed down another arrow before, again, mumbling another set of silent chants. Once more, the second arrow tore through the winds as it neared Sorici's head. And, again, before it could strike her, the bolt flew away from Sorici as it was launched spinning into the air before dropping to the earth. By this time, the visage of the rogue bride had vanished from the horizon, and the crowd were beginning to boo and mock the archer for missing such a shot.

"So, you're just all talk, master marksman?" one of the drakkens jeered before moving away.

"I could have hit her. You're just as blind as your reputation." Another mocked as Cuwarr withdrew his bow.

The warlord turned around, walking towards his room before looking at Kalani. "Come." It was an order; a command lacking the tenderness of his past requests. The deathsworn guards tried to stop Cuwarr, saying that Kalani could not be trusted. But, the warlord growled at them, sending them away as he headed for their quarters. Every slow step back to the room weighed on Cuwarr. For those whose eyes were sharp enough, they would have noticed that the two arrows would have definitely struck their target. But, then, just before it reached Sorici, the arrows would always bounce away. It wasn't because of Sorici or any divine intervention; it was because of the warlord himself. The mutterings he spoke as he readied an arrow was a wind spell which coated the projectile before being launched. Then, as the arrow would near Sorici, the winds would lose control, hurtling the arrow away from the woman. Why he chose to let Sorici live was beyond him, but the woman left a far more painful wound on him than just the incision near his throat. Words. They pierced deeper than any physical wound could.

The bright warlord lost the spring in his step as he entered the room with Kalani in tow. He took off the eyepiece, setting it down on the dresser before he took a seat on the bed. His hands trembled-- shook violently-- as he took one of the bandages stowed in the nearby drawer, holding the gauze and the ointment in his hands. Cuwarr spoke nothing for a good few minutes, and neither did he try to fix his wound even though blood dripped down his torso. It was only when he remembered Pezach's instructions did he speak to the wife who stayed.

"Kalani," His voice broke for a second. The warlord wanted to appear less shaken than he actually was. He twitched at any foreign sound, and his blood pumped through his veins in an effort to sate the bloodlust growing within. Sorici may have failed to end his life, but she killed some far more precious: his trust. Heated, rapid pants flowed out of Cuwarr's mouth as he tried to process his thoughts in attempt to stave away the haunting memories. "The night is waning, and we need to leave for the east soon." He turned to Kalani, his eyes trying their best not to forego the tears that were held in them. Though, a lone trickle ran down his face before it melded with his blood. "I need one more bride, but I do not think I can choose one... after what happened." Cuwarr shook his head before planting his face in the palms of his hands, the bandage and ointment falling to the floor. "Sorici was right." Cuwarr's voice was muffled by his hands, but it echoed clearly. "I am just trying too hard to be someone I am not. The urges," He grimaced, his fingers clawing at his forehead. "The urges are coming back."

Cuwarr released a deep sigh as he raised his head, his blood now staining his hands. "We will find another bride from one of your sisters." Cuwarr spoke in a monotonous tone as his head hung from his shoulders. "You are the only one I trust as of the moment. I plead with you, for both my sake and yours, do not break my trust." However, he turned to Kalani once more with a deadly gaze. "So, if you want to leave now, I will allow you to do so. I will slide you through sunbeams to send you back to Gemminia. It is better for you not to break my trust in the long run for it will ruin you more than it would ruin me."

A beast can only be suppressed for so long before it lashes out of its cage.

Kalani listened politely as Cuwarr began to talk about the Gemminites. He spoke with such admiration that Kalani could not help but smile. She enjoyed listening to him ramble on about her people; perhaps it made her feel a bit more at home. She kept quiet as to not interrupt him for it seemed like he also really enjoying telling stories.

But Sorici was acting rather strange. She seemed to grow more impatient and irritated as Cuwarr continued to speak. Until he brought up his dear mother, and that was when she finally spoke up. Her venomous words shocked Kalani and she hoped that none of the other drakkens had heard her. Did her sister-bride have a death wish? That sort of behavior could get her killed in an instant. Kalani's face paled as Sorici mentioned her name but could not squeeze a word into the intense conversation between the two. Before Cuwarr could defend himself, Sorici swiftly apologized for her behavior, but Kalani was not convinced. Something about the gem seemed off...

Suddenly, Sorici grabbed the knife and lunged at their husband. Kalani screamed at the sight and began to feel faint as she saw the blood running down his neck. She screamed once more as Sorici hit the wall. One thing led to another, but somehow Sorici managed to flee with her life. Kalani watched as the arrows seem to change direction just before they hit the mark. Had he let her live?

Cuwarr had ordered her to come with him in a tone that he had never used towards her before. She obeyed and followed him back into their chamber. It was silent and tense. She did not know whether to approach him or let him be. When he finally broke the silence, his voice was filled with pain. To her surprise, he had given her the choice of leaving him.

She could return to her family! Her life could return back to normal as if these past few days had been nothing but a bad dream. This was her chance! So why was there this feeling of hesitation inside her heart? He was a drakken! His people had done nothing but torture her people! They were monsters, brutes and savages! But Cuwarr... He had been nothing but kind to her so far. She could not say that she loved him, but as he stood before her, revealing his vulnerability, she also could not say that she felt nothing for the drakken.

Without giving him an answer, she picked up the ointment and bandages that he had dropped onto the floor. "Let me tend your wound, mi'lord," she said gently. She tried to apply the ointment as carefully as she could but could not control the fact that it probably would sting him a little bit. "I'm sorry. I hope that didn't hurt you too badly," she apologized.

Then she helped him put on the bandages. Once she was done, she gave him a small smile. "You are still covered in blood. Let's get you cleaned up. You still have to find another bride before we leave for your home." She took his bloodied hands, not caring that her hands would now be dirtied with his blood, and led him towards the washroom.

No words passed between them further as Kalani took it upon herself to clean and bind the nasty wound trailing down Cuwarr's neck. The incision left a visible scar, one that Cuwarr would never fail to see whenever he looks at himself in the mirror-- a permanent mark from a gemminite he once trusted. While he felt jumpy, almost too defensively, whenever Kalani's fingers brushed against the soft incline of his neck and the sliced skin, Cuwarr had to remind himself that Kalani stayed, and that was more than enough to trust her to bind his wounds without twitching at every wince of pain that coursed through him whenever the medicine burned the slash. She could have escaped, took up his offer and bolted out of Shadow Worth, but instead, the gemminite sullied her hands with his blood, patched him up, and looked at him as neither a drakken nor a master. Her eyes just saw him as a husband. And that was what mattered. He watched her with his azure eyes, never averting his gaze as she washed off the blood from his hands. She took her time in wiping the cloth against his neck to remove the stains, going as far as to also dash the cloth against his armor. At this action, Cuwarr shed off his breastplate to the floor, exposing the crimson stains scattered around his torso.

Cuwarr gently took her hand with the washcloth, pressing her palm against his chest as their hands swept slowly to clean the mess. Could she feel the beating of his heart? Perhaps, perhaps not. But, Cuwarr never felt something like this since time immemorial. He kept dragging their hands across the valley of his chest to the ridges of his stomach, relishing the feel of her smooth skin against his. His spine tingled, shooting pleasurable sensations down to every one of his nerves with every pass of her hand. This feeling wasn't love, but it was far deeper than just an otter with a rock; she mattered to him on a higher level, and it was terrifying how quickly she had become important to the warlord. And, while it was unwise for others to pick up on that, there was no harm in expressing what his core ached to say in the confines and secrecy of their room.

So, the warlord spun her around, pushing her backwards until her back pressed against the wall of the bathroom. His hands left hers as it traveled upwards until he cupped both of her cheeks in his palms. Cuwarr's eyes fluttered for a brief moment before he slanted his face over hers. He glanced down at her, cerulean gazing against hazel. A million thoughts raced through his head, but the one thing that remained proved to be simple: kiss her. And, so, he did. Cuwarr pressed his lips against hers, angling his head just enough to shift the pressure when he deemed necessary. The desirous way he bit and tugged at her bottom lip spoke volumes of how much happy he was that she stayed. The connection lasted only for a few moments before the warlord parted from her, his mouth panting for air as he realized that his breathing stopped the moment his lips met hers. His eyes met hers again as a weak smile formed on his lips.

"I must say that I am overjoyed that you chose to stay, Kalani." Cuwarr whispered, his forehead on hers. "And, that, was my first kiss. The gems always treasured these kinds of firsts; they say you should only do it with someone who matters. But, at this moment, I do not regret sharing it with you." The warlord rose to his full height before he bent down to pick up his armor, swinging it over his head shoulders as he wore the plate again. Cuwarr grinned as he exited the bathroom to cover his eyes with the usual cloth. He picked up his recurve and the quiver, hesitating for a moment before deciding that he should probably let go of it already. The warlord couldn't really step outside to look for a new bride with his paranoia at an all-time high. He began to look at every gem in a hostile light-- well, except for Kalani who he looked upon favorably. But, he knew his body tightened in a flee or fight manner when he would see a new gemminite.

Which, really, was the reason why he needed Kalani to accompany him. She would be his reminder that not all gems were dangerous, and that, Sorici was just a rare case. "Kalani," Cuwarr turned to his wife, beckoning for her to hold his hand. "Let us a find a sister bride for you. But, please, lead the way. I... am still not comfortable around your sisters. I trust your judgement, my dear." The warlord instructed, letting Kalani lead the way to the new wife she would choose for him. At this moment, no one knew him better than Kalani, and strangely, that thought made Cuwarr smile.

She was really different, and to imagine an outcome without Kalani in it was nigh on impossible to do. Though the lotus withered in the dark, the rose continued to bloom-- it stared the shadows right in the eye, but it continued to fight on, thorns and all. The color auburn symbolized security and protection; thus, Cuwarr knew that he never made a mistake in naming Kalani as his auburn rose. She made him feel safe, made him see strength where there was none.

Rya stopped mid step, her weight visibility teetering as some invisible force seemed to hold her. Scoot brought up a fair few points. She didn't have a mark and that meant that one of the other Drakken might try to take her away. Rya didn't trust that Azilon would do her any favors, like...stop them. Besides, if the night before was any show, she was hardly convinced that he could do something even if he wanted.

Besides, if they did get into trouble, she would probably be fine, weaseling was her speciality. But Scoot...well, he looked like the type that would get caught, stay caught and probably end up dead. She really didn't want Scoot dead yet. He was nice and one of the things that made this whole ordeal a little less awful. Which lead to argument three, Rya doubted very much that any knew husband she gained would have something similar to a Scoot.

"Fine then little one," she chirped. "Let us go back to Azilon. The safe way. You brought up a fair point that needs to be addressed," it was only after she finished her speech that her foot finally came down. Rya quickly turned and walked the much safer route back to their rooms.

Entering quickly she set the food down on the nearest flat surface before following the voices of her 'husband' and 'fellow lady(?)'. Although it was clear by the state of the room that something big and somewhat important had just ended between the two, Rya didn't hesitate for a second before stepping between the kneeling girl and the giant man.

Rya still didn't understand the girl. She wasn't Gem and she was by far the weakest Drakkan Rya had ever seen. Perhaps the girl was a sign that the genetics of the gem COULD over power given enough time. Maybe she was the inheritor of some double recessive gene or something. But there would be time to explore and examine the girl later. This was more important

Rya glanced up at Azilon for a mere second, before all but shoving three fingers up his nose. "Three things," she said quickly. "First, I need a mark, about this big," she said using her two hands to make a circle about three inches in diameter. "Right here," she said, loosening her top so that it fell halfway down her breast, exposing her shoulders and upper back. Using one hand to hold the top of her dress, she used her free hand to point at a spot on her upper back a few inches to the right of her spine. "What do you think? Pretty easy to expose when it is convenient, yet not all that suspicious of a place to hide when it is not. Course, I'll have to see what your mark is before you put it there. But if it is ugly, we'll just have to edit it, I am sure it will be fine," Rya took a deep breath before continuing. "Secondly, I don't know if you noticed, but Scoot is an invertebrate and I am amazed he can stand up right on two legs, three..." Rya face took on a thoughtful look trying to recall the third thing. Her eye flicked from her dirty feet, still having not bothered to wear shoes, to the tray she had abandoned a moment ago. "Oh yeah, I got food. Scoot helped,"

There was some kind of commotion in the dining hall. When Amalia moved forward instinctively to see what had happened she was blocked by the guards. But from what people were saying, and from the girl that was dragged outside moments later, she guessed one of the brides had rebelled. The younger Gems surrounding her whimpered in fear of what would become of their fellow. They huddled around Amalia like chicks to a hen, and Amalia's maternal nature had her putting her arms around them as though she could shield them from whatever was about to happen. They were near enough to the windows that they could see the Gem being tied down by a Drakken guard. There was nothing they could do but watch.

A unusual Drakken entered. He wore some kind of fabric over his eyes. That was not all that was unusual about him. He physically differed from other Drakken she had seen : slimmer, slight build that bespoke underlying strength, and golden hair. No doubt his mother had been Gemmite, for he had retained quite a bit from her genes.

"If you can flee without being struck, you may live."
The words he called made her shudder. What had the Gem done that her death would be reduced to some kind of twisted target practice? The girls buried their faces against her dressed and she murmured, shushing them as best as she could. They did not want to draw attention to themselves right now. Tempers were running high and the Drakken's would be looking for reasons to spill blood. It was what they enjoyed seeing how they huddled at the windows, fighting for a good vantage point and taking bets on how far the Gem would get. It made her ill to see how eager they were for someone to die. Life was a precious gift from the Great Mother. It was something to be guarded, protected, celebrated. To enjoy it being taken, and so cruelly, was something she could not fathom.

The first arrow was shot and Amalia closed her eyes, already whispering a prayer to the Great Mother to care for the poor girl's soul.
Several gasps made her open her eyes to see, to her complete surprise, that the arrow had missed its mark. The girl lived still. Another arrow shot and it also missed. Drakken began hissing and grumbling.
When the girl was out of sight all eyes went to the Drakken Lord. He said nothing, barely reacted to the jeering and harsh comments he received. Was his eye sight bad? Had he missed under the pressure of being watched by so many? Or had he let her live on purpose, giving her a longer and harsher death from the elements or by wild beasts rather than granting her a quick death? Were Drakken that cruel?

Of course they were.

The Drakken Lord left the hall with a dark haired Gem that had to be his bride in tow. Amalia hadn't missed the injury to his neck. What had happened? The thought that the runaway Gem had caused such an injury was incredulous but it was the only thought that made the actions she had just witnessed make any sense. Why would a Gem be crazy enough to attempt to harm a Drakken? Gems could not fight Drakkens. It was a simple fact that had been proven for years. Could she really have been so desperate to get away that death was a better option than life with a Drakken?

Things were so dark and ugly here. Amalia closed her eyes again, tears threatening to spill over. This was a world she did not understand, a world she did not want to understand.
If it wouldn't have been such a dishonor to the Great Mother, Amalia would have considered taking her own life.
"Stop weeping," she told the girls around her in a gentle but firm tone. "Our sister lives. The Great Mother will watch over her."

A hand in her hair made her cry out in pain and surprise. Her head snapped back and she was faced with a Drakken guard that loomed over her menacingly. "You dare mention your weak goddess on Drakken ground," he spat at her before shoving her forward and onto the floor. "Do you really believe she cares for you at all? She has forgotten you."
Amalia slowly got up and faced him. "A true mother never forgets her children. Even those who stray. The Great Mother loves and cares for all, even you."
A hard slam to her chest put her on the floor again. The Gems around her scattered and held each other. No one remained to stand by her, unlike what she had done for them.
The guard couldn't strike her face, but he felt no hesitance in hitting the rest of her. Amalia had the wind knocked out of her and couldn't breathe for a few moments, hence she could not brace for the next strike to her side from his booted foot. A hand around her neck pulled her up into the air. "Continue to speak that way and you won't survive an hour," he snarled before tossing her into the other Gems, who immediately backed away from her. They avoided looking at her, not wanting to be involved.

Amalia got to her feet again. The guard snorted. "You are nothing and your people are nothing. Your hatred for the Drakken-"
"I am not nothing," Amalia snapped, facing him with no hint of fear or cowardice. "I am Amalia Solair, daughter of the Earth and the Sky. I may not love the Drakken but I will never hate them. Hatred is the poison your people feed on. It blackens your hearts and corrupts your souls. And I swear by the Great Mother Vivari herself that you will not taint my heart with it."

Her first kiss was not what she had expected. It was gentle yet passionate and she did not expect a drakken to have such soft lips. But what surprised her the most was her own reaction. She did not struggle or feel revolted but instead she had returned his passion and kissed him back. Her back was pushed against the wall but she wanted to lean forward, closer towards him. Her arms had wrapped themselves around his neck. When the two lips had parted, she found herself catching her breath as well and her face was flushed red. As he rested his forehead against hers, she felt the desire to kiss him once more but resisted.

"That was my first kiss as well, mi'lord. And worry not. My promise to you as your bride is to ensure that you will never regret our first kiss," she whispered back.

She watched him as he put his breastplate back on and followed him out of the washroom. He appeared to have return back to his 'normal' self but had admitted that he was still cautious around the other gems. She did not blame him; Sorici had been very close to taking his life. And now as he had given her the responsibility of choosing a new bride for him, she must be careful to ensure that nothing like that will ever happen again. "Of course mi'lord, I will do my best to find you another suitable bride," she said. Then she had taken his hand and led him out of the chamber and back into the halls.

As they walked, she had heard some whispers about her husband and none of which were in good taste. They were whispering about his 'bad aim' and his inability to keep his first wife under control. They snickered at the sight of a drakken being led around by his gem bride. Whether or not her husband had heard them, she did not know but she had ignored them and kept her head held up high.

The whispering soon stopped as something seemed to be attracting the other's attention. Kalani, curious as to what was going on, had followed the rest of the crowd. A gem had been pushed onto the ground by a drakken guard, yet she still continued to speak. "I am Amalia Solair, daughter of the Earth and the Sky. I may not love the Drakken but I will never hate them. Hatred is the poison your people feed on. It blackens your hearts and corrupts your souls. And I swear by the Great Mother Vivari herself that you will not taint my heart with it."

Kalani glanced over at her husband to see if he showed any signs of interest towards the white-haired gem. Regardless, Kalani felt the need to intervene. The girl would be killed immediately if no one would step up. So Kalani had stood between the girl and the guard, but never did she let go of Cuwarr's hand. "You have nothing to prove, sister," she said, her face was blank and expressionless. "Please forgive her. She is most likely hysterical." She had bowed her head to the guard to feign some sort of sincerity which was enough to satisfy the drakken.

"Follow me, sister," she said, lifting her head once more and looking the girl in the eyes. Once they had escaped the crowd, Kalani began to speak."My name is Kalani and this is my husband, Lord Cuwarr Naxremis. While I do admire your audacity, I am obliged to advise you that you should be more careful. I have seen our sisters killed in the matter of seconds here and you might join them if you do not learn to bite your tongue."

"By Drun's name, I will split your head upon the marble floor if you dare raise your hand against my wife." Cuwarr growled, streaks of malice dripping from his tone as he gripped the drakken guard's raised wrist. The fool had intended to harm Kalani's intervention on behalf of this other gem who lashed out at her oppressors. But, rather than being inspired by her defiance, her scene only reminded him of Sorici's outburst before she ultimately wounded him. His nerves tingled, his bloodlust growing with the need to assert his own dominance by maiming this Amalia until she couldn't walk straight. Before his lust for violence could overpower him, Cuwarr released his hold on the man before he started to trail behind Kalani who had taken it upon herself to confront the boisterous gemminite. After a few steps, though, the offended drakken began to taunt the marksman with insults of his missed shots against the gemminite who escaped.

"I don't want to hear those coming from an archer who couldn't even hit the broad side of a barn!" the drakken roared, brandishing his sword in an attempt to start a fight. "You're weak, pathetic. USELESS!"

In a flash, Cuwarr spun around, bow and quiver in reach, as he notched an arrow upon the bow. His aim was true, his body tensing for the briefest of eternities. Then, with a whoosh of air, the arrow soared through the air with blinding speed as it pierced the drakken's small ornamental earring off of his earlobe. A spurt of blood poured from the wound as the immense haste of the arrow caused the drakken to feel the pain late. But, once his senses caught up, the drakken held his bleeding ear, spouting curses at Cuwarr who only spat in his direction.

"The next one will be between your eyes if you do not know your place." Cuwarr spoke coldly as he turned around to follow Kalani. "Though you may be the king of pigs, you are still a pig when faced with the butcher's carver. And, I am the butcher."

The warlord left the scene as he caught up to his wife who had begun berating Amalia's lack of tact and hold of tongue. While he was amused with the display, it was only a matter of time before Kalani called out to him. The warlord stepped forward, revealing himself to the gemminite as he snaked his arm around his wife's waist, pulling her closer to him. Behind the eye piece, Cuwarr observed the gemminite through half-lidded eyes. Her golden tresses fell softly down to her waist; her eyes glowed with a passion that only a drakken's bloodlust could match. Emerald eyes looked up at him, causing a shudder to run down Cuwarr's spine. Instinctively, the warlord's hand snapped to the scar near his neck, a sense of paranoia gripping him once more.

"A fly who refuses to keep silent will immediately be flattened with the broad side of one's palm." Cuwarr began, a dark tone lacing his voice. "And, yet, the fly claims that it does not hate its oppressor. Hate is a powerful thing. For those bred in the harshest conditions where the sun bites and the moon sears, only through hate will one survive. Why, you ask? It is because through hate, we rage against the dying of the light. Our hate makes us stronger, and turned us to the masters of warfare that we are now." Cuwarr spoke non-stop with a small smirk. "You claim that Vivari will safeguard your heart from being tainted with hate, and yet Vivari herself could not stop her children from bringing suffering into the land. It wasn't because Vivari was naturally weak, but it was because her sons possessed something that she didn't have. And, that something made her sons stronger than her. Do you know what that thing is, Amalia? It is hate. If Vivari could have hated her sons, then, she would have decimated Drun, Krenta, and Sorrak. So, I ask you, dear fly, what else is better a nectar of life but hate?"

It was test, and Cuwarr believed Kalani knew the warlord's intention as well.