---

Hitvich stood ready for his unarmed father with Warhammer in hand. One blow would be enough to break bones. But to do that, he’d have to hit his father. The rain turned the ground to soft mud filled with traitorous gravel. About 15 feet away Keregar stood. The silence was taunting the first twin. He charged, forgetting his brother behind him in a bid to finish it quickly. Or try at least. Keregar watched as his child charged. Foolish.

Hitvich jumped high up, lifting his hammer overhead.
Keregar made a small sidestep.
The hammer landed next to him.
He slammed an elbow into Hitvich.
The first twin fell into the mud.

Herstvich looked on from a distance. His brother was barely moving now. He saw him wincing in pain. From the twins, Herstvich favored a calculated approach more. He moved sideways and his father followed suit. Like two starved predators they kept their eyes on each other as they moved in circles. Herstvich kept his weapons, two war axes, up. The tension was ramping up. Both Drakkans were waiting for the other to move.

Herstvich moved first, throwing his one axe as a diversion.
Keregar dodged but took his eyes off Herstvich.
Herstvich dashed forward.
A few feet before he reached his father he dropped into a slide.
The mud did nothing to break his momentum.

Keregar didn’t even have to look. He knew his sons well enough. Herstvich always went for the low blow if he could. He grabbed the boy by the throat before he could finish the slide. Now, like some animal caught, he was squirming. In shock he had dropped his other axe. Though Hitvich had just risen. Mud mixed with blood painted his face as he swung his hammer once more. Though Keregar caught it mid-swing. “Is this what my blood has to offer?” The old Drakkan said. He slammed Herstvich into the handle. Shattering the wood and breaking the weapon. He then threw one twin against the other. Sending both sliding through the mud.

Both twins got up. Their weapons were gone and their father hadn’t even drawn his yet. One look at each other and they knew what they had to do. Both began to slam into the ground below. The mud flung away, revealing the solid earth below. With every hit, small cracks formed below Keregar. The cracks grew and grew. Jagged rocks began to spout sideways from the cracks. The Warlord was sinking into the ground. A crown of rocks surrounded him. Herstvich stopped pounding. Instead, he reached to the water from the rain. Pushing them together and cooling them down. Steam burst forth from the crater crowned by jagged rocks. As the rocks of ice fell from the heavens, more and more steam flew up from the crater. Until Herstvich, using as much power as he could, pushed all the rain in the air together, froze as much of it as he could and threw it into the crater.

Steam exploded from the crater. Both twins collapsed onto their knees in the mud. Exhausted from the pull of their magic. “You think the explosion got him?” Herstvich asked. “I think it hurt him.” Was the answer he got from his brother.

Steam continued to rise from with the crown of jagged rocks. Shrouding the crater in a fog. For several counts, it was completely quiet. Save for the rain still falling down. It would appear even thunder was waiting for something to happen. From within the fog, a faint red glow appeared. One that grew brighter more and more. Forming the shape of armor. A few rocks jutting out shattered as if they were hit by twenty hammers at once. Making an opening from the crater. Out from the fog marched Keregar. His metal armor glowing red-hot. The drops of rain that fell on it evaporated immediately. Though the metal was not in one piece. Hot shards of metal kept falling off. He looked at his sons. Bleeding and exhausted in the mud. Their weapons shattered or scattered. Then he looked behind him. To the crater crowned by stone, filled with steam. “You did well.”

---

Varzar listened attentively at Xaelia as she told him about the many areas of Gemmenia. To him it sounded like a green, beautiful paradise. A place of true wonder and beauty. Xaelia’s stories only confirmed those ideas. As she spoke of evergreen trees and large, blankets of pure, white snow he almost wanted to go then and there. He was hanging on every word she said. Then Nadia spoke. A warmth grew in the young Drakkan. She described something else entirely. Not greatness, not really. But a comfy place. A sort of place with a house and hearth. A simple life. One where you just worked the land and lived your life.

But then she began to cry. Varzar, at the sight of her tears, felt like he suddenly woke up. For a moment he was surprised. But then he realized what was happening. She missed home. Quickly he grabbed one of the few chairs still in one piece and placed it behind Nadia, letting her sit down. He also took off his own leather jacket and placed it over Nadia’s shoulders. After which he kneeled down before her and took her hands. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I asked.” He softly said. “It’s okay. I’m sorry you’re… here.” He kept silent for a moment. “Maybe… maybe someday you can show me your home.” He didn’t know what he was saying. That was for sure. He was far too young to fully understand what it meant. But he wasn’t a kid entirely. He might not know the full picture, but in his eyes you could see that he knew what he said was a big, grave thing.

The moment couldn’t go on forever though. As another Drakkan, slender and lean appeared behind Xaelia. With a flick of his hand he took the blade she kept behind her and swirled around her. Keeping one hand on her lower back as he pulled her close to him. “Well, well, what do we have here?” he said, as he softly pushed the blade against the middle of the bare part of her chest and let It slowly trail downwards. Making sure he didn’t cut her. “You must be a feisty one.” He continued as he turned his head to whisper, close, into her ear. “Hiding a knife like that. Imagine what father would say about that.” The trailing knife reached fabric. Though it did not dissuade the Drakkan. In fact, he pushed a little harder down and began to cut the dress. Slowly. “But what if I didn’t say a thing?” he said, with his hot breath on her neck. He planted a small kiss there too before he pulled his face back to look her into the eyes. “Maybe, as a little reward I could get a better taste of you?” he said with a sly smile.

Gentle arms enfolded her in a reassuring embrace. Amalia turned to the source of the comfort and focused on stopping her shaking body. Her sister-bride gave her words of encouragement. It was simple kindness that she had not received since leaving her home and it made her eyes tear up.
“Thank you,” she murmured so only the two of them could hear. “I’m sorry.”

The princess calmed the upset and they weaves their way through and out of the mess. Outside it was cooler and quieter. Amalia took a deep breath, grateful that she could breathe once again.

The cottage they were led to was not what she had expected. Her lord-husband was wise enough to rest before traveling. Amalia noted this, realizing it was more for them than for him. He, a hardened Drakken, could no doubt travel great distances with little rest. Whether the thought was out of concern for their wellbeing or just a measure to make sure they survived to breed remained to be seen.
The tension returned when the man in dark clothing appeared. When she was pulled from her sister-bride and shoved towards the man holding ropes in his hands, her fear returned full force.
“No, please! I’m sorry for before! It will not happen ag-!”
“Quiet!” The man snapped and began... measuring her?
Relief made her knees nearly give way. She had thought he was going to bind her for grabbing onto him earlier.

The servant was quick, moving to different parts of her body without so much as blinking. After measuring Onyx as well he left without another word.
Her hope that the inside would be warm and inviting was dashed. Other then being clean it looked like no one resided there.
Since they had been slightly rained on it was a pleasant surprise that her lord-husband called for baths for them. He warned them about escaping. He needn’t have bothered. Amalia was no where near thoughts of escape. Being a bird in a cage meant safety from the outside world.

“Thank you milord,” she said gently and bowed to him.
The bath was warm. The moment she stepped into it she breathed a sigh of relief. A warm bath was just the thing to calm her nerves. She sat in the water, knees drawn to her chin, arms wrapped around her legs, hair floating in the water around her.
Onyx, her sister-bride, was beautiful. And not as scared as Amalia was. She was braver, more sure. With such beauty inside and out, she would be the favorite. But she was kind. Amalia has heard stories of brides who got full of themselves and became cruel to the brides under them in favor. But she didn’t think Onyx would be like that. They could support each other.

She looked up at her sister-bride, who was relaxing in her own bath.
“Do you... do you think he has other wives? Besides us?” Amalia asked.
After Onyx’ answer Amalia stared into the bath water, her chin on her knees. “I wanted to be brave, like you. I tried to be brave. I truly did. But fear is everywhere. It chokes me.”
A tear fell down her cheek and dropped into the water as she looked at Onyx with a sad smile. “I am sorry you are stuck with me, my sister. I am not worth much. But I promise I will not give up completely. No matter how harsh things become, I will support you.”

The defiance the Gem named Arden showed was while unexpected, very familiar. Many, many people boasted such an attitude when they were dragged to Harand Kor in chains. Some of them still did say such words, as a mantra of insanity after having endured countless sleepless, tortured-filled nights in chains. From the whispers of the inmates, it was foolish to defy the Warden and suicide to challenge him. However, as much as Heccarim refused to acknowledge it, Arden had a point. The Gems were such frail creatures that just harming them too much would probably cause them to go into shock and die. Hell, preforming his normal "orientation" that so many inmates suffered would likely cause them to just fall over. The Drakkan would have to be careful about this as a dead bride doesn't produce a living baby no matter how hard one may try and should they have a miscarriage, it would be equally as bad for the heir.

"Your defiance is…" the maw of the mask opened as a light smoke filled the carriage, "Familiar. I have heard many people say such words before. Some still do. As a madness mantra; the only phrase their broken minds can remember."

The two Hoblars sneered and jeered, delightfully bringing up the names of those who had suffered such fates. Thralmark the Blooded, Prince Jamalar the Slayer, Kudanka the Monster of Kyzgrande, they hopped about on their dirty feet singing the names, the deeds and the fates of such individuals, taking great delight whenever a verse about spiked chains and flayed skin came up in the song. Heccarim took a deep breath and allowed them their shrill song until he threw Streek into the lap of Gems. The Hoblar instantly dirties and soiled the dresses the brides where wearing and looked up at them with his bright, beady eyes. His sinister gaze amplified a smile full of jagged yellow teeth and his stubby arms made motions to grope some of the Gem's softer parts until Heccarim picked him up once more and threw him against Kreek, reminding both of them of their place.

"Tis true that I need one of you to survive to grant me an heir…" Heccarim sighed before suddenly straightening his posture and yanking on Sorrin's chain, dragging her into his lap. "But I only need one and you look sturdier than this little one any ways." Heccarim's hand danced along Sorrin's torso, his finger almost marking where he would cut her up, "If both of you were to fail in your duties, then I'm sure I could get another Gem for my service to the Crown… perhaps I'll take one of your siblings or friends from whatever pitiful village you call home and show them your heads. I might even be so generous as to grant them thick cloaks, made of your skin."

An evil chuckle filled the tiny carriage as he held on to the little gem in his lap tighter, "So yes, I can burn you, starve you, isolate you, it doesn't matter; you've made yourself clear. As such I propose a little condition; I will not punish you for your crimes, instead I will simply inflict the punishment of your crime on to the other." Heccarim pulled Sorrin's arm and separated a finger, from her tiny palm and pointed it at the Hoblars who cautiously grazed it with the tips of their own putrid fingers and salivated at the thought of getting to eat some Gem meat, "I know, it may not be easy for you, but fear not, you've made your intentions clear to both me and her."

With a nod of the Warden's head and a bump on the road, Skreet hoped over onto Arden's lap, once again eyeing her up like a wild animal before returning to staring intently at Sorrin on his master's lap. The air was getting colder now and the roads, rougher. "It would see that this little one knows how to properly behave, so you Arden, won't need to worry about any much punishment. Perhaps you'll even live out in comfort, knowing that you've caused such terrible, terrible harm to such a poor, innocent thing." The back of Heccarim's nail dragged along the smooth skin of Sorrin's neck as the Graven Warden tilted his head to the cute, little Sorrin.

"You, little Sorrin, have behaved well so far so I'll tell you. I am no mere actor, no showboating fool; the title of Grave Warden of Harand Kor is one of terror and fear. What do you think keeps some of the nobles in line? Duty? Honor? Oaths? I will tell you that fear is the best lever and Harand Kor is a constant reminder of what happens when a noble steps out of line. I care little for the court intrigue and politics, except when I am told of a new criminal that must be apprehended. There are no petty thieves or beggars in Harand Kor, its mountain vaults are home to only Drakkan warriors and nobles who have disgraced themselves and had to be dragged in by their necks. Of course many try to escape, everyone does it at least once but none of them ever see the light regardless after being dragged back into the shadows by me or my subordinates. And atop all of that is the Grave Warden, the keeper of the prison, the master of the mountains. For generations that honor has fell to my father, and his father before him and so on. I have a name yes, but it is not a name you need know yet."

It had been a longtime since Heccarim had to recount the glory of Harand Kor to anyone but it was so satisfying none the less. He had smiled through all of it, letting a primal growl rise from the back of his throat as he spoke. And once he was finished, he wrapped his hands around Sorrin's throat, tight enough to hurt and leave a mark but not enough to strangle her, "So, Arden, will we proceed with your punishment now?"

"That would be my brother, Delleck." Kaivor sighed, exasperated at the mere thought of him. "He's, ah, energetic." Polite words that belied impolite thoughts. Delleck had a way of getting to him like no one else did. He had a short temper, he knew, but Delleck had a way of shortening it. Only the fact that Delleck was of his own blood kept him from lashing out at him.

He was snapped out of his own musings by Kendra, who moved behind him. He was confused, until he took notice of the commotion.

Rynek Darion...

He was amused, at first, maybe even a little delighted. Some bastard barging into a feast to demand something from the royal family. A man after his own heart, it seemed. He could see pretty quickly, however, that the situation was fast becoming dangerous. His eyes darted around, once again taking stock of the room and its exits.

Then a man that had mocked Rynek had some unlucky smaller Drakkan by the face. Kaivor had done his research. Chances were that he might've recognized the man, had the brute's hand not been in the way. When the body fell to the floor, there was little enough face for Kaivor to try and recognized. He looked at the dead man and his cast aside bride with something almost like pity.

What a waste.

Kaivor's brows raised of their own accord when he heard the brute's name. Ultair. He knew it, of course. His father had told him all manner of stories. His father had been terrified of the Berserker, and so had Kaivor, as a child. He didn't know how true his father's stories were, but the name made him uneasy.

He looked back at the dead man's bride, and he looked over his shoulder to see Kendra there.

"Stay close." He said, perhaps a bit more gruffly than he intended. As much as he wanted to leave, he couldn't without Delleck. Plus, he couldn't help but want to see how things ended up for Rynek. He settled down a bit once the Ultair was headed away. "Don't worry, he's leaving." Though his voice was steady, it felt like he was speaking to himself as much as Kendra.

A subtle jerk shot through Xaelia’s body as she instinctively started towards her distressed sister bride. But the cold metal she kept behind her back held her back, a rope tying her in place. The pool of blood caused a itch to start forming as the blood began to dry down her palm. It was too much to ask that that was a sign that the bleeding at slown, the knife was too sharp and the cut was too deep for such an idea. Being unable to comfort Nadia hurt more.

Xae’s eyes widened as she watched the young drakkan hop around Nadia, bringing her a chair and whispering sweet promises to her. Every act of kindness shown to her sister bride brought on a stab of guilt as punishment for the previous cruelty she had shown the boy. And now, she was nothing but thankful for his actions. Although he had been the one to cause the pain in the first place with his questions.

A sharp yanked twisted the knife out of her hand, in the same movement, A set of strong hands yanked her body till she was face to face with another drakken. This one smaller than the twins and far smaller than Keregar.

“Well, well, what do we have here?”

A poorly muffled cry of panic escaped Xaelia’s mouth as she found the knife pressing into her chest. She stiffened, her voice coming in short shallow breaths as he got closer. Her hand twitching to cover her chest as the sound of ripping material filled the air.

“Hiding a knife like that. Imagine what father would say about that. But what if I didn’t say a thing? Maybe, as a little reward I could get a better taste of you?”

His lips felt like cold steel on her neck. A line of goosebumps shot across her body as she tried to break free of the hold, but was held tight. She could only guess at how much of a ‘’taste’ the drakkan was asking for. But the fact that he felt the need to barter meant that he couldn’t just take what he wanted.

Maybe.

Maybe he just liked the game.

But it was a game she would rather not die playing. Her mind quickly shot through every option she had in a limited list. A brave person might have challenged him. Clever person might have thought of a safer plan.

“W-what knife,” she said, her voice a terfied whisper, but her words came out clear as day. “T-the only one here is the one in your hand,” Her entire body gave a traitorous tremor as tears threatened to spill from her eyes. It was a gamble. One where the chances of it paying off were so slim that it was little more than suicide. But the little Drakkan hadn’t known about the knife. While she didn’t expect the little Drakkan to lie for her, there was a chance that he’d at least hesitate when asked for the truth.






“It is unwise to trust a demon, the cost is always far too high,” Rya whispered under her breath, staring at Morganna, but not really seeing, her chin being held in place by the woman’s finger. Her hand reached out, holding Lienna’s hand, the grip too stiff to be a measure of comfort for either side. A noise from somewhere far off seemed to fix Rya’s focus, as her glassy eyes became clear, or at least, clearer.

“What is the cost of protection?” Her voice sounded heavy, fearful. Like a creature who knew there was danger, yet chose to walk forward anyway. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that Lienna had yet to take her eyes off of the new drakkan who claimed her as his own. Reaching up, Rya took a hold of a chunk of the girl’s silvery hair. Yanking hard until the girl was forced to look toward Morganna.

“What is the price?” Rya asked again, her hand still burried in Lienna’s hair like a leash, forcing the girl to hold her head forward, forcing her to look away from the pretty, evil, drakkan.

“Feel free to put your dress there,” Ineraz gestured over to a rather meagre and barren vanity table, which unlike the rest of the furniture in the room seemed to be there almost for its own sake, just so that it could be said an item such as it was there and to make the space a bit less empty perhaps. While the dresser in the room was still relatively free to use, Ineraz had put his sword to lean next to it and he preferred not to encourage his brides to approach sharp objects just yet.

“It will do indeed, beautiful,” he murmured softly as she came closer. Although the previous blush which had graced Zeldria’s cheeks was a promising sign, Ineraz was well aware that the Gem was likely still cautious and fearful. However…she did join him. And as joyful as Ineraz wanted to be, his bride’s nearness would make it both awkward and possibly intimidating (for her, not him) to relieve his not-so-little problem. He sighed, but restrained himself for now. I truly deserve an award for my patience. Ineraz shifted closer to the Gem on the bed and put a hand on her shoulder-blade, slowly stroking down her arm and back up, essentially providing a massage with the lazy but firm circular movements he was doing.

“Mind if I hold you while we sleep?” He asked her the question quietly. Before she could respond, he added “And no need to worry about this,” he pressed his pelvis to her backside so she would know very well what he meant “either. I will take care of it on my own. I promise, as much as I want to ravish you, there is something very tantalizing about a consenting lover,” he finished with a sigh which might as well have been a moan and sneaked a quick kiss to Zeldria’s neck. Ineraz then scooted back slightly so he could gauge her response more easily and also to give her the choice of initiating any further physical contact. He kept his posture inviting as much as he could do so while lying down. Whether the Gem responded well to his seduction attempt or not, he would probably have to satisfy his urges on his own. Based on her response, she wasn’t ready for coupling just yet and forcing it on her would likely just destroy her. And that would certainly not be in his best interests. So, trying to wait until she fell asleep it was. Unless…If she shows interest again, I might entice her into watching, at least. However, he was realistic enough to expect another night spent alone – alone in the ways that mattered, that is.

So entranced was Lienna by the intruder that she somehow let herself be dragged by the chain around her wrist through the crowd, all the while bobbing and weaving to keep her view as she was escorted along. Some vague chatter of some vague bribe wafted past her, but she didn't register it; someone squeezed her hand, but she wasn't concerned. She was somehow consumed by the appearance of this dangerous stranger, unable to tear her eyes away lest he make a move while her back was turned. It was not until what she could only assume was some kind of imp took her by the hair and pulled her to face a very tall, very imposing female drakkan that she snapped out of her reverie.

The drakkan was the least of Lienna's worries as she came to her senses, eyes wide and face screwed up in a mixture of anger and surprise. She turned not on the drakkan, but on her timid little sister-bride who so boldly took her like a lead. It was then, as she firmly grasped and purposefully separated Rya's hand from her hair, that she remembered what Rya had asked, and what the female had proposed.

Despite being relatively slow to anger, Lienna had quite the potent spiteful streak, and (though it rarely did) it could gather and strike her in little more than a heartbeat. So while it may have come as a surprise to any onlooker, she wasn't altogether out of her element when she turned her burning eyes on Rya instead of the drakkan.

"You coward," she spat, "So timid are you that you grovel at the feet of the bear just to escape the fox?" Her hands were collecting moisture from the air and beginning to steam; her eyes were turning an ever more saturated shade of blue.

Kuki startled a bit hearing Vannoth's laughter. It was unlike any laughter she'd heard before. She pondered his question. "Well, I like painting. And reading." She smiled and let out a small chuckle. "If you gave me any free time, I would probably spend it in a corner reading a book." She was quiet for a moment. "I also enjoy just spending time in nature and meditating. It's calming." Kuki was a pretty simple person, in her opinion. She didn't want expensive dresses or elaborate jewelry. Wow, I really don't do anything. She recalls Vannoth mentioning that he had land. She was looking forward to seeing it. Kuki decided that she had spoken enough and would shut up for the rest of the journey.

Nadia could hardly breathe as Varzar sat her down. She gasped, struggling to try and control her tears, but the homesickness felt like a dull knife, slowly cutting away at her heart. She felt a small weight on her shoulders as Varzar wrapped something around her. The musty leather jacket carried the scent of a place she didn't yet know, along with that of a person she realized she was quickly coming to cherish. She looked up at him as he took her hands in his, kneeling at her side as she wept.

"I’m sorry. I’m sorry I asked." He spoke so softly, Nadia almost didn't hear him over her own sniffling. He continued just a little louder, or perhaps she only heard it better because of what he said... "It’s okay. I’m sorry you’re... here." He fell silent for just a second, just long enough for Nadia to manage a weak smile at him. He was a sweet boy- she could see that clearly. he could never have meant to hurt her, in any way.

"Maybe… maybe someday you can show me your home." Oh Varzar... All the god's blessings upon you. If only. If only she could go back home- if even for just a day. She would bring him with her, if that's what he wished. This sweet child didn't really know the depth of what he'd said though, did he? Nadia took one of her hands from his grasp, wiping away the tears once again as she finally managed to stop crying enough to speak.

"I... I don't think that's possible." She hesitated before continuing, just a few seconds passing by. "But I'd take you there in a heartbeat, if I could." She smiled again, thanking Pyrus and Vivari for allowing her this one person. He was a drakkan, but he was obviously kind and so far had been gentle. He was full of innocence and curiosity, but was not entirely oblivious to the larger world- that much she could see in his eyes.

The moment couldn’t go on forever though. Over Varzaar's shoulder, she noticed another young Drakkan enter the room and approach Xaelia. Oh no... How many kids does Keregar have!? She saw him take the knife from Xaelia, and then he moved her sister-bride between himself and Nadia, so she couldn't see what he was doing now. She pulled her eyes back to Varzar quickly, hoping he hadn't noticed her glancing at the other side of the room. If the other Drakkan has said anything... She couldn't hear it from over here. Perhaps, she could pretend she never noticed him enter? She could keep holding Varzar's attention and let Xaelia figure out how to deal withthe other Drakkan on her own? Or call out for help because, He has a knife and look- Her hand is bleeding! He cut her!

She closed her eyes, taking a breath and trying to keep calming down. No, no one would believe her lie over the word of the Drakkan boy, if they would even care enough to listen in the first place. I'm sorry Xaelia, you're on your own with that...

She could keep Varzar's attention still, at least. She opened her eyes, meeting his steadily before asking her own question. "Varzar... Would you tell me what your home is like? Kereg-Kor?" She pulled the jacket more tightly about herself as she continued. "Who all lives there? just your family or is it like a fortress with guards and towers? Is there a forest, or mountains nearby? What are the days like, when everything is calm and the sun shines?"

She would wait for him to answer the first few questions before asking, "Do you... Do you think I could like living there with you?"

"Well, I like painting. And reading." She smiled and let out a small chuckle. "If you gave me any free time, I would probably spend it in a corner reading a book." She was quiet for a moment. "I also enjoy just spending time in nature and meditating. It's calming." Vannoth thought about this as he calmed a bit, still half smiling. "So a Garden then- a place to be alone at times and relax? Other than that I do have a bath house but I feel that I would need a new one that is more personal... or I would very quickly run out of recruits. . . Young warriors do not have the habit of behaving well when there is beauty or excitement." he sighs "It takes months of working them to get the stupidity out of them." He was already devolving back into his typical grouchy ways. He did not talk much once she grew silent, but he did the take the time to enjoy the walk with her until they arrive at the small manor. That is a very quiet, long walk. He knew nothing of painting or books meant for leisure, and would likely take the time later to learn more for her sake.

A frantic outburst sounded from the small blonde sitting beside her. It was nice that she was finally speaking, but Arden wouldn’t let the girl’s sudden voice shock her. Although she remained still, focusing on the monster before them, her ears were open to what Sorrin was saying. She spat out what sounded like childish babble; a desperate attempt to cling to anything that made sense. The girl had spoken so quickly, she didn’t even pause to take a breath.

Fear.

He had scared the girl… Arden knew that fear was the normal response in their situation, but the voice in her head kept screaming at her to fight against it. The voice wasn’t her own, it was a piece of each and every sister she had met along the way; someone had to be strong for them. Someone had to not be afraid for them. Now more than ever, she had to be the pillar of strength she was raised to be… she wasn’t alone in this. She had Sorrin.

One of the ugly creatures suddenly appeared in her lap after reciting yet another tactic to scare them. From the corner of her eye she could tell he was staring up at her, smiling a yellow grin in her direction. She refused to pay him any attention, even though all she wanted to do was push him off of her immediately. This was about the stand she had taken, and she was not going to remove her focus from the Warden of Harand Kor. The creature’s presence didn’t last, as their master removed him quickly but with it came the sound of their chains…

And there she was. The small blonde haired gem, Sorrin, in the monster’s lap. Her body tensed as she watched his finger run its course along Sorrin’s abdomen, her own battle scar aching at the reminder of what the Drakken were capable of.

"As such I propose a little condition; I will not punish you for your crimes, instead I will simply inflict the punishment of your crime on to the other."

Arden’s heart stopped, barely choking back the breath of panic that filled her lungs. Her entire body flinched as the Warden forced a finger apart from Sorrin’s hand and waved in front of the tiny creatures as if it were a treat ready for the taking. Her harsh exterior had melted away into worry for her sister bride; she had caused this… The fear on the blonde’s face was growing rapidly, she was losing colour in her skin, and her eyes were beginning to tremble with panic. Arden recognized the look, she had seen it before; the girl was reliving a trauma.

She wanted to reach out to Sorrin and snatch her back from the monster’s grip, but she wouldn’t.. She couldn’t. She knew that would only lead to more suffering for the already terrified Gem. There was nothing more she could do, nothing more that she could push. She would not take the chance of risking Sorrin’s safety for her own ego. Arden finally released the heavy sigh that had been trapped in her chest for so long… but as she let it go, she found herself quickly gasping for it back as she watched the Warden’s hands snake their way around the blonde girl’s neck.

Every hair on the back of Arden’s neck stood tall. A chill swarmed her body as she watched with bug eyes as the monster’s hands tightened around Sorrin’s neck. The girl wasn’t struggling to breath, which meant he wasn’t constricting her air flow… yet. The Warden’s eyes met with hers and as a growl escaped his maw, he asked if Sorrin would be punished or not. He had won.

”Checkmate, Warden. I’ll behave…” Although she was frightened, she wouldn’t show that in the tone of her voice. Her glare gave way to an apologetic gaze as her entire expression lost its fire and was replaced with a submissive one. ”Now please let her go…”

You won’t get away with this… you might have won this round… but there will be more.

Aurora should have known better than to assume invoking the name of a literal god would be enough to intimidate a Drakkan, even if the one standing before her was so small. If anything he seemed… amused? At the very least he could have acted insulted, if not at the challenge then perhaps the mention of a god not his own, but it would seem that a different statement would bear more power than her first.

It was as if a fire had been lit, the air becoming taut with undisplayed rage as his face twisted into a scowl of sorts. She couldn’t be sure at first as to what exactly had caused his sudden shift in composition. While it could have been her stepping out of line that had set him off, but such a response was unwarranted for such a small infraction… No, it had to have been her sister, or at least the mention of her. It would seem her death was a sensitive topic for the pair of them, a concept she was not sure she was quite ready to accept.

He had stepped closer to her by the time she had calmed herself but made no motions to punish her in any fashion. There were many things she had expected of the creatures that lived in Drakka’s wastelands, the cursed children created in mockery to the creator Vivari. The men that had ‘cared’ for them upon their departure from the homeland were so much bigger, more threatening than the man that stood before her. Everything about them screamed predator to her, like a lion charged with the care of a lamb. Her husband-to-be was not like any of the ones she had met so far, but she knew better than to assume he was not as dangerous, if not more, than they. He was no lion, but a wolf, nay… a fox suited him better.

She was caught off guard a bit by his next words, able to maintain his position of authority over her even while admitting her validity. Aurora was determined for answers but she had never expected to be handed them so… diplomatically. Such a thought tugged at the very core of her being, a small flicker of concern that was quickly overshadowed by her desire for closure. This was her chance to learn all the details of what occurred instead of imagining the countless horrors that no doubt went through her family’s minds.

'I understand your outburst; any one of these events would be difficult to handle individually, let alone thrown at you together. When we withdraw to my families spare residence here in the city this night, you may interrogate me for every detail of that morning your sister died and I shall answer the best I can. If you find it insufficient or find me at fault, you may throw every curse you like at me, launch whatever other empty threats you desire- vent your anger and hatred and sorrow and so forth. But here in public, I must maintain appearances. Is that a reasonable proposition?'

The Gem found his request to be more than reasonable, Zakroti leaving very little room for refusal to his propositions. Looking around the room, such a move was beginning to make more and more sense. In a nation ruled by the biggest and strongest, this man had to work twice as hard to earn a right to live among them. He would have been a fool if he believed he could rely on brute strength alone, so he adapted to his circumstances. To lean so heavily on strategy, she had no doubts he was able to fight his battles as one would play a game of chess, always several moves ahead. Had she not been so angry, she might have been impressed.

Aurora did not answer him right away, instead shifting her eyes past him to size up the Gem who had looked equally as wary of her. Her stance had remained polite but her eyes were distant, as if she weren’t quite there completely. She was either a complete airhead, or she knew something… more accurately, she was remembering something. No doubt it was the memory of the topic at hand, whatever scene she witnessed enough to bring tears to her eyes. Ice crystals formed on her skin wherever the water touched, a clear sign of distress from someone of her typing. The fire Gem maintained eyes on the small girl as she came around, taking note of every glance she made toward Zakroti and the way she moved by him as she approached.

'Peace, child of Pyrus. You are not the only one to have lost her sister that night. You are not the one who still bears scars of it. So- Trust. The matter is not what you think it is.'

What she expected and what she heard were two very different things, Aurora’s posture shifting ever so slightly as the girl spoke. It would have been one thing if she had come with real words of assurance, but such was not the case. The girl spoke of loss and yet even as she did so it was all in defence of a Drakkan. Aurora’s nose turned up from the girl, her gaze falling harshly upon the small creature.

“If I required the input of a Shattered, I would have asked for it. I expected more elegance from a follower of Naia but it seems her wisdom is not so easily imparted upon her children.” She hissed, throwing a slur rarely used among her kind. It was not a word that was said openly, only whispered in rumor behind the offender’s back. Being taken by the Drakkan was a tragedy, to fall for one’s captors was a crime against her people and their collective suffering. To be called out on it was no small thing.

Turning her attention back to Zakroti, Aurora finally nodded her compliance.

“Surprisingly fair for a Drakkan, but if it gets me the answers I’m looking for then I clearly have no choice now do I? Worry not, your ‘appearances’ will be maintained. But make no mistake… The children of Pyrus, daughter or not, make no empty threats. I would advise you to stop shielding your weapon from me though, it makes you look like an idiot.”

She made sure to keep her tone low so that it would carry only to its intended target, displaying her promise of maintained status while still making it clear to him that she was not yet completely under his thumb. A loud commotion from behind her startled her out of her stance, the girl whipping around to find the source of the disturbance. Aurora was surprised to find that she wasn’t the only one disturbed by such an entrance, even the royals taking up arms against the unknown threat.

A smarter girl would have stepped back and taken refuge behind those that would have protected her, but Aurora was more stubborn than wise and chose to remain rooted to her position. If Zakroti wanted to assure her protection, he would have to come to her to make it happen. Seemed such a move would prove unnecessary, however, as the stranger introduced himself and scanned the room. Death was not his primary goal but quite characteristically within reason, his demands simple enough. A bride.

As far as Aurora knew, each girl that had been plucked from the homeland had been rehomed already, none to spare for a party crasher such as he. This left him with the option of taking someone else’s girl. Settling on a target across the room, Aurora turned her head slightly to look at Zakroti, silently inquiring about their departure. While she was interested in seeing what could very possibly turn into a battle, she had more important things to tend to. There were answers Zakroti possessed and had promised, and she wasn’t about to let some small matter distract her from her expected information.

"Don't be sorry. We're in this together, alright?"

As soon as Onyx let go of her sister-bride, Wilhelm took hold of the both of them and began leading them out of the party. They walked together in the rain for a while, the downpour having shifted to a less drenching shower. Their husband lead them through the maze-like streets and soon, they came to their destination. A cottage, of a sort, with a proud banner hanging over the door.

Suddenly, Wilhelm pushed Amalia away, towards a Drakkan guard that Onyx had failed to notice until that moment. She tried to follow her sister-bride, to pull her away from the guard as Amalia began to cry out in fear, before Wilhelm's grip pulled her back. The guard shushed Amalia, and Onyx had to fight the urge to try and rip away from Wilhelm to go help her still. It took Onyx almost the whole time Amalia was being measured to realize that was what was happening. Once she did realize though, she quickly whispered her apologies to her husband. "I'm sorry for trying to pull away- I thought he was going to hurt her." He didn't seem to care much however, as he just pushed her forward to be measured as soon as Amalia was done.

The guard said nothing to her as she stood there, and she said nothing to him. It was curious, measuring a person in rope. Wouldn't a tape be more accurate for making clothes? but then, you don't measure someone's full height or the distance around a person's neck for a dress, do you? Those are more like measurements for a coffin, or a collar... Despite that peculiarity, so far nothing else was amiss. The house Wilhelm had led them too was clean but otherwise bare. He called for a bath and then- Of course there's only going to be one bed. Onyx thought as she said nothing to her husband and simply followed Amalia to the bath.

“Do you... do you think he has other wives? Besides us?” Amalia asked after they'd both settled into the warm waters. Onyx pulled her wet hair out of her face so she could look at Amailia while she answered.

"I suppose it's possible... But I wonder, would they really give brides to a Drakkan that still had some at home?" She paused for a moment, thinking. "I kind of hope there is someone there though now. A Gem who could help us get used to the new place, the new life."

As Onyx finished Amalia seemed, depressed at her answer. Onyx reached out to take her hand, but let the gesture die as Amalia began to speak again. “I wanted to be brave, like you. I tried to be brave. I truly did. But fear is everywhere. It chokes me." She started crying, and Onyx felt a sharp stab through her heart as her sister-bride continued. "I am sorry you are stuck with me, my sister. I am not worth much. But I promise I will not give up completely. No matter how harsh things become, I will support you."

"I am not stuck with you. I am blessed to have you, my sister." Onyx smiled as she reached out again to take Amalia's hand. "You don't need to be brave- I honestly don't believe I am very brave either. Please, don't cry."

"Fear is not a bad thing. If anything, it's the best thing to have, especially in our situation. Fear makes us careful and helps us react in the face of danger- even if it feels like it may overwhelm us. But even then, we'll always be there for each other."

"I'll always be there for you, Amalia."

Zel carefully laid her dress on the bedside table as indicated and made her way to the side of the bed. She peeled back a few of the furs laid over it and slid underneath them, laying on her side and facing the wall. Her husband- she was still having trouble considering him in that way- soon slid over to lay very close to her. She felt his breath on the back of her neck, and it sent a silent shiver down her spine, though not for the reason he might hope. The cold, rough skin of his hand on her shoulder and arm only added to her discomfort, and it took a great deal of effort to not visibly squirm where she lay.

“Mind if I hold you while we sleep?” he asked, nearly whispering in her ear. She breathed in sharply, not sure what to say in response. And then, he took things further.

“And no need to worry about this either,” he said as Zel felt a sudden pressure on her rear end “I will take care of it on my own. I promise, as much as I want to ravish you, there is something very tantalizing about a consenting lover.”

Zel winced at the word "tantalizing." Of course, she knew that such a purpose was the entire point of her position, but that he would be so quick to act on it, and so forward as well was not something she could have anticipated. Furthermore, Zel knew very well the sort of things he likely had in mind for where to place his hands should she say yes... but she'd already effectively denied him once tonight. Did she dare do it again? Would he punish her for it?

At that point, her eyes fell on Sera, huddled in her chosen corner just across the room. From where she lay on the bed, Zel could see her quite clearly as she lay there, trying to make herself warm for the night. No, Zel thought, He would punish her instead. And while it was true that Sera had rejected the idea of them relying on each other for support, and despite the fact that letting Inarez's wrath fall there would leave her untouched in multiple senses, Zel couldn't bring herself to let something so foul befall the poor girl. Not when she had the capacity to prevent it.

"If that pleases you, then by all means," she answered, and prepared herself for the worst to fall...

---

The lustful fire in Kieran’s eyes did not subside. In fact, it flared up a little as he licked his lips. “A clever one, are you not?” He said rather teasingly as he pulled the knife. It had cut the fabric to the lowest point of her stomach. Almost too low. Almost. He let the knife play in between his fingers as he kept his eyes on Xaelia. He turned his face towards Varzar, who sat with his back towards his older brother. Kieran heard what his brother said about him and faked a hurt look. Then he looked at Nadia “You think she’s as clever? No, I don’t think so. Look how my little brother holds her hands. The clever ones don’t do that. I bet you wouldn’t do that.” He whispered. His gaze went back to Xaelia. He let his eyes follow the cut he made in the dress and once again licked his lips. He was getting hungry. Once again he put a hand on her lower back. Though he didn’t keep it there. The hand went lower and lower until he had the right curve. He never pulled her close though. Instead, he then let a finger trailer through the cut he made in the fabric. “Hush now. Not a word and not move wrong.” he said, his eyes locking onto hers. “Do you like exploring? I heard you talk about your homeland so I bet you do. You must’ve seen many places the bright sun touches. Though I am much more interested in what the sun doesn’t touch.”

Nadia asked her questions right when Kieran pulled back the little knife. “My… brothers live there too. You’ve already seen the twins. Then there is Kieran. He came with us so he should be around. But you have to look out for him. Then there is Bregrek. He never leaves his furnace so he didn’t come along. Then there is Karog and Drugal. My oldest and second oldest brother. Though they don’t live in Kereg-Kor anymore.” He explained to Nadia, never realizing or hearing what was happening behind him. “Kereg-Kor is… different.” He tried to explain. The little child knew fully well Kereg-Kor paled in beauty compared to Gemmenia. Or at least from the description of it. The trees were ugly and gnarled. The grass and moss a deep shade of green from all the blood that had been spilled on it. Not anymore though. According to his brothers the walls were once chiseled straight and true. Centuries of rain, snow and wind have weathered the black rock walls. “Then there are the other Gems. They’ve made their room pretty. Like you described home. Auntie Kyr makes sure everyone feels happy there.” He then quickly added. The room for the Gems was a diamond covered by black stone. A room made in the likeness of Gemminia itself. “There are woods… But I wouldn’t go there. Not without anyone with you. There are beasts there.” And also animals, he added in his mind. “You could live there with us. I’m sure of it!” He said with slightly faked enthusiasm. He didn’t want her to cry again. But the truth was that it was still a place deep in Drakka. A place Gems did not survive long. He had three mothers already, loved two of them but also killed one. “Yeah… you could live there.”

A loud explosion, one harder than thunder broke the concentration of both brothers in the room. They looked up from where the bang came with knowing eyes. The same thought rushed through both of their minds. The twins actually tried it. But Varzar then realized another thing. Kieran’s finger was not in a nice place. Furious like only the blood Keregar could be, he shot up and pulled him away from Xaelia. “Don’t you touch her!” he yelled.

Kieran never expected to be pulled backwards. The bigger, older Drakkan fell over backwards into the floor. Though he spared no time getting back up. Varzar put himself between Xaelia and his brother. Looking up but straight into Kieran’s eyes with a defiant stare. Tensions were rising as Kieran kept toying the knife in between his fingers behind his back. No words were said, until the door from the outside was slammed open. A flash of lightning illuminated the figure. Keregar, but something was off. As he walked in the fire light inside, his armor cracked a little more. More pieces dropped until finally his breastplate could not hold it together anymore. It broke free and fell down all around him. For a moment he looked behind him. At the back of his armor that feel. The damage was substantial. With the armor, he would have been terribly hurt. But by looking behind him, he showed his own back to the room. It was filled with ragged flesh, pale scars of lashes covered almost every inch of it. Several scars ran far, far deeper than any whip could ever inflict. He turned back to the room and looked at both the brothers. It was clear they were facing off. A small smile formed on his lips. Maybe the runt of the litter was finally showing his teeth. “I have business to attend to. Do not make me be interrupted.” He stated with a voice of stone, before he vanished into some other room. Then the twins dragged themselves inside. Covered by mud mixed with blood from the several wounds on their arms and back. Herstvich was stumbling, kept up by his brother. Though the moment he came in, he saw Kieran toying with his knife. Hitvich, almost instinctively knew why his brother suddenly got so angry again. He let him down carefully and then stomped over to Kieran, snatched the knife from his hand and pushed the tip below his chin. Forcing the Drakkan to look upwards if he didn’t want to be stabbed. “You touch this again, and I’ll flay your arm.” He said it with such cold malice. As if he would truly do it. Hitvich returned to his twin and both walked out of the room.

Kieran let out a deep sigh when both Keregar and the twins were out of sight. Though he still had Varzar, standing defiantly between him and his little game. “I hope you’re not a deep sleeper. I’d hate it if you’d miss my little visit tonight.” He said rather teasingly before he too vanished. Varzar kept his eyes on him right until he vanished through some door. Then he turned to Xaelia as he asked: “Are you alright?” When he saw her dress was cut, he turned his eyes away and grew a little red. “Sorry, I-I didn’t mean to…”

“Varzar.” Even without rage fueling it, Keregar’s voice was a force in of itself. He looked up immediately. “The Gems are tired. Lead them to their chambers.” The Warlord stated. It was his gift to the brides. One more night of peace.

Ineraz observed Zeldria’s back and despite the darkness and renewed distance between the two of them, he could see how tense her shoulder and neck muscles were. She lay very still and listening to her breathing, Ineraz got the impression she was trying not to panic. All in all, the Gem very much gave the appearance of a scared animal, who wanted to bolt but was either so petrified from the terror itself or the possible consequences she imagined, that she could not move. Obviously, refusing him or defending herself was also outside of her capabilities. What a weakling. No wonder some Drakken just take these kinds of girls and do with them as they please. I suppose I will have to be more careful with this one, if she truly is so fragile.

“Your caution will serve you well,” he attempted to compliment her, but could not help the sarcasm heavily present in his tone, no matter how true the statement was in and of itself.

He had seen how badly she startled while he was attempting to seduce her. No enticing this one just yet, he though a bit disgruntled. Zeldria took a good amount of time before she verbalized anything, and Ineraz snorted derisively when she did.

“Many things would please me,” he whispered harshly, but despite his words, made no move to get closer to her again. Instead, he stared at her back as he fulfilled his promise and indeed took care of the lust which had pestered him at the back of his mind all this while. Watching her shapely form, he let his fantasies run free and wild, taking himself in the usual manner. It was over as quickly as it begun, and left him looking forward to a future in which his brides would want to do such activities with him.

Then, he rolled over to lie on his back and stretched leisurely. Once again, he checked that all his weapons were far away enough, even his dagger, which he habitually slept next to. He wouldn’t put it beyond a silly Gem to attempt and murder him in his sleep if she thought she had a good chance to accomplish it. Just in case, he would keep his ears open while he slept. Being able to wake up at the slightest potential danger was a skill any worthy Drakkan possessed. Before completely relaxing, he said one more thing to Zeldria. “Try and get some sleep.” Adhering to his own advice, that is exactly what Ineraz did.

Zakroti reached out for Aymiria as she backed away, murmuring apologies to him. He gently drew her closer to him, protectively as Aurora's words lashed at her. He whispered to the tiny, precious woman he held in his arms. He could feel the coldness on her skin, water turning to ice from her sadness and sorrow. He wanted nothing more than to reassure her, to hold her gently until she was at ease once more. She had been through so much today- through his betrayal and now through the pain of coming face to face with the sister of her sister-bride, doubtless the memories of that night were flowing back to her.

"Oeiz Aigz, wre jusla caracze kas." Zakroti held her gently to him as he said that, looking down to her with a happy smile. His eyes darted up towards Aurora as she said something to Miry. It was clearly an insult, although he didn't understand it, and a slight growl escaped him. But he didn't move away, he just continued to hold her to him gently, glaring at Aurora for her comment but making not a word.

Whatever she had said, it was clearly deeply insulting. The tone in which she said it gave that away. Zakroti wanted nothing more than to spring forth in this moment and defend Miry's dignity. After all, how dare Aurora insult Miry as such! Were they not in this situation together now? Taken to a far off land against their will? After everything Miry had been through, and after what Miry had felt that night, how dare she insult her and belittle her! He could feel the heat radiate from his skin, likely serving to melt the crystals of fine ice that had formed across Miry's body.

But he calmed himself again. Aurora did not have the details (not, he imagined, that they would truly do much to endear her towards Miry once she learnt that it was Miry's sister who ended up taking Kasari's life.) and could not be blamed for taking exception to what must have seemed to her a very curious situation. And besides, she was still under the impression that they were to blame for the death of Kasari, was it not reasonable to dislike them? So he calmed himself and let the anger flow off him, let his blood and flesh cool and the fire die down.

Certainly, she would cause him some trouble down the line if he did not handle this carefully. Perhaps even if he did. But perhaps he could calm her and soothe her anger, to tame that fire as it were.

"Very well, Aurora. You have a stout heart- but take heed you do not burn your fire out. We will depart this... Place soon." Zakroti replied with a weak smile. He moved his body again so that he was standing more naturally at ease rather than defending his sword, and looked around the room, eyeing up the commotion and killing from a new entrant across the room with a slight shake of his head. He gestured for her to approach him as he took a step forwards with Miry and glanced to the blackguard around him as they moved alongside him and kept their eyes on the commotion.

Perhaps it was time to make themselves scarce before something worse broke out. Certainly, he didn't want to waste his time being caught in some pathetic crossfire over whose bride was whose or squabbling about minor details- admittedly he would have liked another good fight, something to help take his mind off of everything that had been happening today and give him a rush of energy and power, but that could wait until later. He had work to be doing, clearly. "I have no desire to spend longer here than is necessary. Come."

Nights in the desert weren’t known for their warmth, but the falling rain brought with it a chill that soaked through to the bone. Thick clouds cut the landscape off from any source of moonlight, the darkness devouring what little light torches and lanterns could provide, while the deafening rain forced the masses inside their homes. Silent figures moved about the city unseen, some masked while others simply cloaked, all observing from their places in the shadows. Many things were witnessed that night, though death was only but one horror among many.

By the time the rain began to let up, most of the city’s occupants had either retired to their estates within the walls while few others had already embarked on a long journey home. Five small shadows darted from cover to cover, careful not to spend too much time out in the open where they could be spotted, holding their breaths each time a Drakkan drew too close for comfort. One by one they made their way to an abandoned shop, a disheveled location that looked like someone had left in a big hurry, bloodstains left behind indicating that it was not of their own volition either.

Three girls stood at the back of the building, furthest from the door so as to minimize the possibility of detection despite the hour. One leaned up against the wall with her arms folded against her chest, both her hood and her mask still donned despite her companion’s appearance. Poking her nose into every corner of the building, the second young woman took to canvassing the area while they awaited the arrival of their leader. While it was highly unlikely they would be discovered, it was always better to be sure than to assume. The other two sat together on the floor, the elder of the two helping to warm the shivering youth.

“We’re in the clear, you can remove your mask here. Friends, remember?” The one spoke, rolling her eyes when she received no response from her masked companion.

“It’s alright, leave her be.” Came another voice from the doorway, the new arrival pulling her hood down as she took refuge from the rain. Her breath escaped her mouth in tiny white tufts, water still dripping from the edges of her cloak but it didn’t seem to bother her all that much.

“So, what do we have?” She asked, looking around the room expectantly. No explanations were necessary, there were very few reasons they would risk entering the capitol especially this time of year.

“Unfortunately not much. With the ceremony being moved up the way it did, there wasn’t enough time to properly prepare. Trying to find a way inside on such short notice was next to impossible, so outside of you… and maybe him... the best we have is long after initial contact with their husbands.” The woman she was reporting to nodded her head thoughtfully, eyes drifting to the floor.

“I see. While it was not an ideal situation, it was not a total loss. Every bit of information helps, you know that. The initial contact is a great teller, but it is not everything. We’ll have to wait and see how they fair after a few days spent in their new homes. Was there anyone in need of immediate liberation?” She spoke, looking around the room to each of her companions.

“Excuse me ma’am. There were a couple we took note of that might need our assistance. Whether or not they’ll be good candidates for the front line is still unknown, but I’m sure there’s something we can do… Right?” The shivering girl spoke up, voice light and quite timid as her eyes darted about the space. She looked as if she expected a Drakkan soldier to pop up out of the shadows simply by speaking about them.

“We will try to do whatever we can, but we can’t take in everyone. We’ll have our absent friend look into rehoming the ones we cannot support. An awful premise, I know… but a necessary sacrifice to our cause.” The younger girl looked deflated, clearly having hoped to save whoever it was that she saw. Such was the price they had to pay though, with such limited resources and abundant risks, it was impossible to care for anyone that couldn’t give back to the cause. It hurt the woman’s heart to have admit it, but it was her duty to make the difficult choices.

“There were a few right out of the gate that managed to catch my attention. I think we should consider looking into recruiting them if at all possible. More than a few feisty ones this time around.”

“If by feisty you mean mouthy, then yes… Quite a few.” The deeper sound of a male voice made a few of the members jump a little, the leader clearly having expected the arrival if her relaxed posture was any indicator. Turning around, she motioned for the Drakkan youth to enter and share his thoughts with the rest of them. He was barely old enough to be considered an adult by Drakkan standards, but he had been quick to learn how to blend in with the crowds and appear as if he belonged… An easy task considering he was one of their kind.

While an outsider might have been confused by the sight of what was clearly a Drakkan male conversing with a bunch of wayward Gemmenite women, those that had been around long enough knew he was not someone to be wary of. He had been the child of a bride from one of the earlier reapings, sometime around when the Rebels had really started getting their bearings. The woman had unfortunately been impregnated before she was able to make her escape, but she managed to find sanctuary with the Rebels where she gave birth to and raised her son. She had long since passed away by this point, but the son proved to be a great asset to the Rebel’s cause.

“If the information I heard was correct, one of my primary interests is a girl whose been stirring trouble since she was brought over the spine. She’s got a lot of courage, and seemed like the sort to look out for her fellow brides. Has already taken quite a beating too from the sound of it.” She began, the boy who was now standing beside her shaking his head in response.

“As great as she sounds, you should probably give up on that one. The man she was handed to is no joke, and those chains the real deal. Even the War Lords seemed unnerved around the guy.” He chimed in, fighting a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold.

The eldest woman in the group cleared her throat to gain attention, standing to her feet despite the lack of necessity. An old habit yet to have died off.

“Our leader here has pretty sharp instincts when it comes to these girls. If she’s your prime, m’dear, then there must be reason. The girl wouldn’t be the first to liberate herself from her situation… If what you say about her husband is correct, we might have to wait to see if she makes it on her own rather than going and collecting her. In that case, we’ll be waiting to take her in with open arms.” Heads around the room nodded their agreement as the woman took her seat, the leader waiting for everything to settle before continuing on.

She went on to speak about a few others, such as one with enough nerve to all but yell at her husband and insult his prior bride, a strange girl who hailed from the Spine itself, and various others that had succeeded in standing out. Not all were spoken of in positive terms, however, as the discussion turned to interests from the previous year. More than a few of their potential candidates had died, and another had seemingly grown attached to her husband. There was little hope for converting and was thus considered a lost cause.

Another girl had almost fallen into their grasp after the death of her husband, but her mental stability had proven too weak to trust for their cause. She was left to wander the woods in the hopes that she would either die a swift death or find a way to survive on her own… Neither of these were the case as she made an appearance at this year’s event with a man known to be a bit of a hermit.

With the rain slowing to a slow drizzle, the group’s time together had come to a close. The woman in charge dismissed them, wishing them safe travels and the information necessary for locating their next meeting. She had been prepared to take off in her own direction when the elder woman from before stopped her to ask a question.

“I was able to catch a glimpse of a girl earlier this evening… She looked a lot like..well...me and I think she might be related somehow… It’s been a long time since I’ve heard anything from my family but I have this feeling… She could be of great help to us, so with your permission I would like to look into it further.” Such a request tugged at the heartstrings of the young leader, a dangerous game to play when making decisions for the wellbeing of the rebellion.

Normally she would have declined such a risky investigation due to the relation to the subject. So many things could go wrong in such a situation, several being along the lines of being recognized and found out, while others followed the more concerning topic of clouded judgement. Still, rebellion ran through the veins of the family in question, and if she was anything like the woman standing before her… She would be more than a help to the cause.

“You know I cannot allow you to investigate such a matter on your own… But you may choose somebody to run point on the investigation. If it pans out, I’ll consider her options, but that decision has to go through me… Is that understood?”

Deal struck, the pair made off in different directions, hoods pulled and bodies hugged close to the shadows. The Reaping might have been over, but there was far more work to be done.

Alfhi was confused by the gem’s claim, but perhaps she’d not noticed the pitcher of fresh water sitting by the wash basin… It was the woman’s first night here, and it could be hard to find things in the dark. That was probably it, she just didn’t know where to find the water here. Things were different in Gemminia right? Maybe she just forgot she wasn’t home, Daddy was certainly giving her plenty of nice things.

“You needn’t go out for water, it’s in the room silly. Here, I’ll show you.”

Alfhi turned, tugging Hestia along behind her. She pulled gently, mostly hoping not to wake Mum if she was still sleeping… poking her head in, Alfi heard the rhythmic breathing of her mother and knew she was asleep still. Pushing door open a little more, she pulled Hestia into the room behind her and over to a recessed corner of the room. A wide shallow basin stood there, with a large heavy pitcher siting in a divot on the rim shaped specifically for it. Smaller baked clay cups, glazed in the family colors which were impossible to see in the dim light, sat along the rim as well. Alfhi paused a moment and stared at the pitcher… A moment later a spurt of water shot out of the jug and arced over the girl to fall on Hestia’s head. Alfhi grunted and let Hestia go as she balled her hands into fists at her side… This time the water landed in a cup, which Alfhi handed to Hestia. A moment later she handed Hestia a towel for her now wet hair… since she didn’t trust herself to try using her fire magic to dry the woman’s hair without burning her. And daddy had worked to hard to earn this bride to take burning her lightly. She whispered to the woman.

“Is that enough? Sorry about your hair, getting water to go where it’s supposed to is hard.”

It seemed the girl believed her lie. She let out a tiny sigh of relief as she was dragged along behind the slightly taller girl. Water in the room? What a novel and strange idea. She'd always had to go out to the well to get water. Hestia paused behind Alfhi as the door opened and as quietly as possible they snuck into the room. And, lo and behold, there was the water as promised. She was about to head toward the pitcher when suddenly water lifted itself from it. Her eyes widened is it came splashing down on her head. She had to clap her hands over her mouth to keep from shrieking and waking up her spouse.

Beautiful green eyes looked toward Alfhi in confusion as she tried once again, this time getting the water into the cup. Hestia accepted the towel first, draping it over her head. The water felt nice and cooling so she was not upset. It was not as if she might melt. She then accepted the glass and sipped the crisp drink. A small smile appeared on her lips. "Yes, this is perfect, thank you. I am so sorry I woke you," she whispered quietly to Alfhi. She then noticed only Scyr in the room. "Where has..." she couldn't remember his name, "My husband, your father gone?" she inquired.