With the moonlit night laying still overhead and the winds loud enough to cut out softened footsteps; escape was certain to Valora. Ayda knew which guards patrolled that night and how to sneak past them. The two already gathered everything they could. Ayda was dressed with clothing that once belonged to Valora. Valora brought with her the sword and twin throwing knives from her mother, as well as a set of her mother's eyru armor displayed in her room.

One guard, a mercenary human, took a sickening fond of Ayda, boasting about her being his prize. The other guards simply assumed his case true, as they had no reason to object.

"There, miss. What does we do?" Ayda whispered to her, both crouching behind potted plants, shaded by the roof above them that looked to be held up by pillars of marble and polished stone.

"As you said, he has no suspicion for you. All you have to do is distract him. I'll deal with the other two. " Valora whispered back, still focused directly on them, glancing quickly to the left and right to be sure they were alone.

She ripped a piece of her garment and tied it to her face.

"But...what if it don't work?" Ayda whispered nervously back.

"It will, but if it doesn't, depart as fast as you can without me. They care less about you escaping than me. I'll hold them off as best I can if it comes to it, and seek for you the moment I may be able to escape." Valora's voice was muffled by her disguise, and she placed her hand on Ayda's head in a pat. "Now!"

"Who's there?" One of the guards asked.

Ayda walked out of the dark to cover the sounds of Valora.

"Well, wha' do we 'ave 'ere? The little lady seeks me affection? Am honored, truly." The one who desired her bowed. "You's awake past your bedtime, ain't ye?"

The guards beside him chuckled. Ayda walked awkwardly closer.

Ayda just stood there, shaking.

"Me grin and fine viewing keep her yammer shut?" He looked to the other men. "Come closer, little lady." He signaled his hand towards him, a large smirk on his face, just as the other two.

Ayda nodded no.

There were screams muffled into silence well behind them, footsteps gathering towards him. The two men fell, collapsed by a cloth rank with fine powder. He noticed the feet to his sides and then gripped his sword.

Valora was nowhere in sight.

"She be mine, beast! Shant you lay a finger on me property!" The man spoke aloud, moving in a circle with a turned head.

He gave a sinister grin; crooked yellow, and scattered like the jagged jaw of a wild dog. His eyes were wild like an animal and held greasy skin shining in the moonlight.

Valora was silently behind a pillar, glancing his way and back again, waiting for the best chance to strike. She gripped her blade firmly, and even more so through every glance, worried Aran would discover them. The man was growing ever close to finding Ayda.

With one slide to the left, past the pillar, Valora stood up and charged the man.

With a growl, he parried her. He recognized the biting shimmer, the blade of Lady Elera . He took a step back, loosening the grip to his own.

"Aran's girl?" He asked, eyes widened and a shake in his voice.

The swing of his Paldaron blade was cumbersome to her own, so she led with a flurry of shallow thrusts. throwing the sword out of his hands, sending it into the air, and landing it ten strides away with a loud clang.

Valora looked to the blade with widened eyes, then received a quick bash to the head, causing her to fall over in a daze, body echoing on the nearby floor.

While sitting on the ground, the man went down to her level, gripping her hair. From blank to life, she raised her voice.

"Now Ayda! Run!" In mere seconds, Ayda returned to her feet to run out the front gate only a few strides behind them.

"Why you little -" Valora kicked his forehead, bashing it to the ground; unconscious, allowing her to return to her feet, and picked up her mother's sword.

Voices and footsteps gathered in the distance as she hastened down the steps.

The sky was cloaked in lumbering clouds, its shimmering children devoured in certain black. She led her path with a lantern, but the night remained her ruler.

She had caught up to Ayda fairly quickly, finding her on the ground with a leg wound; her baggage scattered across the shrubbery.

She couldn't walk, so Valora gathered her upon her right shoulder, and her left with the brackish light of a lantern that screeched they ran at an unstable pace through the wind and cold of the night.

"You know the way?" She asked while continuing on foot, sword clanging against her right side.

"Is dark, miss." Ayda spoke softly, her large gentle eyes peering up to Valora's.

"Yes, it is dark, but not even to which boats we could take?" Valora sighed.

"Been a servant me 'ole life. Me an't know much of anythin'." Ayda whispered back

Valora provided profane remarks under her breath.

They ran and ran. It wasn't until she got a glimpse of the city itself that she heard the gallop of horses behind them.

Many voices, possibly twelve or more, all on horseback with riders calling her name.

Tumbling, her legs began to ache and tire. Her desire for freedom was nearly killing her.

Reaching Arandoth, she ran past the gate guards.

"M'lady? Your entry papers!" An Eyru guard demanded.

Her footsteps had faded away to the rattle of wind.

"Blast! That's three this week!" One guard said, looking to the one who called for her.

"Begone to your posts! Make way for the King's steward, Aran Sadorian!" One of Aran's riders shouted as they galloped on towards the city's eastern gate.

The guards, four in total, stood in awe, looking to the one furthest left.

"Th-that's-" The one furthest left muttered, dropping their weapon.

"Indeed it is." the one closest said, patting their shoulder. "You will be remembered."
_______________________________________

Running and pacing, slipping and stumbling on polished stone roads, clean streets with empty alleys. She had no place to hide.

"The window!" Ayda pointed up to an open window only a jump's distance up, high up a downward sloped road.

The clopping of hoofs echoed only a few buildings behind her.

"Give me your hand!" Valora spoke in a loud whisper to her.

She carried the little girl up without much effort. Around the corner came the horses, glances away from seeing Ayda's foot outside the window.

The horses galloped past with much haste. Ayda fell on the wooden plank flooring, both of them silent while in the dark of the room, then returning to heavy breaths the moment the riders were out of sight.

There was not a single candle of any sort in that room, only lit with the dim light of the outside. It was hardly even near morning when they sneaked out in the first place. In the distance was a glow of the star's golden and red light shadow, a beacon of hope to what little she had.

There was crack in the floorboards, and she immediately looked to all portions of the room.

"Was it you?" Valora asked, gripping her mother's sword.

"An't made a creak so true. Am too little." Ayda muttered.

On both sides, to her surprise, stood two separate figures. One was smaller than Ayda, the other as tall as Valora.

Valora removed her hand from the sword, for it was a mother and daughter.

Valora, with as much haste in her concern as she could, signaled her finger to her lip that they remained silent, taking her hand off the sword.

The mother nodded, remaining still.

Valora slowly approached the window, glancing outside to the sight of nothing but a marbled brick pathway, and then signaled they lead further inside.

Her mouth was grabbed shut just prior, however, by a foreign hand beyond the two.

Their eyes were wide opened then, fearful and shocked.

There stood a man, tall with royal garments torn, hair a mess across his face, skin dashed with bloody cuts across his otherwise maintained face, and eyes filled pure in the blood shot of insanity.

"You think a scheme such as this could let you escape me? For someone who trains daily how to outplay themselves, you've much to learn." It was Aran's voice, louder than she ever heard before, like a demon clouded his every word.

He violently pulled her into his right arm's grasp.

She screamed in his left hand, a scream with only a muffled cry without help to be found. She kicked and squirmed, trying as she may to escape, but could not.

"Ayda!" Valora roared almost incoherently.

"Not so true, miss! Thought you's been wantin' to leave?" Ayda replied in a loud whisper. "Best ease ya mittens from your yammer."

Valora released her hand from her mouth.

"W-what?"

"Place's abandoned, miss. Not a sight a' life ere'." Ayda coughed softly, dust filled in the room by Valora's sudden outburst of fear; causing the walls to rattle, a fear of nothing.

"What just happened?"

"A payment, me heard." Ayda replied, Valora's head exhausted, laying down on the empty broken beds with her head rested against the stone wall. "Master talked and talked, fancy words with fancy men. Said he can't let yeh have it yet. Frightful sights to fix what's been done to yeh, sights he felt would keep yeh away from his true...what's it?"

Valora sat there for at least five minutes. She held her hand against her head, eyes widened yet exhausted, such as her breath. Ayda eventually sat down by her impatience; forgetting the threat that stood outside.

"His..heart... He wants to break me, make me his toy to cope with what's been lost to him..." Valora contemplated softly and slowly as she rested in the broken bed, chest forward rather than back, heart still racing. "We're too far now, Ayda. Too far to doubt what we think he feels."

Valora stood up, looking out the window to see the light in the distance coloring the sea a golden glow, a view of the docks and the waves soaring in the wind of a sight some would call "freedom".

"Now, as the moon slowly fades to day, a journey greets us."
_______________________________________

Carrion's eyes widened at the sight, losing balance at the realization.

"This cannot be! Here? He was destined to die the moment he was captured in that forest, a sacrifice for our sake to move forward and defeat Almar!" Carrion's hands were tightly gripped on both sides of his head, firmly shocked at the sight of his fallen friend, a voice raised to a rattle in the quiet room.

"Oh, but like all people there will always be a desire to strive forward. Even in the state I found him, his heart craved a life beyond what he had, a life of hope and peace fulfilled." Fenris replied calmly, his head turned towards Carrion, then back to the person in the bed.

"This solves everything! It will bring back Theodren, summon Sven back from his cowardice state to however far he went...and perhaps...even to cure Valora." Carrion finally turned to the man, still mixed with unstable emotions and thoughts in every movement and manner he spoke.

"Soften your tone. He must rest now, for the sake of us both." Fenris turned away from the body and back to the fire, a soft voice. "For now, you too must rest. You've aged far too soon in life with how little you take care of it."

"...Thank you?..." Carrion returned, as uncertain as was his state whence he woke prior.

"Hm." Fenris remarked in contemplation. "What is a thank you?.. Often times it seems a meaningless gesture... Perhaps our actions should instead meet that demand?"

"That would explain why it remains a mystery to fully grasp your motives." Carrion replied with a smug tone, resting against a boulder.

"Good, you're catching on."

"Like a fool hanging over a cliff."

Fenris abruptly stopped, staring blankly at Carrion, observing him.

"Oh Carrion. Is humor the only thing left to cope the pain and fear that haunts your mind?" Fenris turned to him after a brief moment of silence away from his gaze. "Or might I ask where your sword has gone?"

A cool breeze blew behind Carrion, footsteps of an old familiar sound: a growl of a large being, claws that would dig in the ground and tear entire limbs off of a man without much effort. The acknowledgement was quick, but too quick to not realize that with his hand placed against his scabbard, there he remembered his sword was taken from him from a mysterious being.

He looked to it, to witness the great beast unfold. There stood a dragon reaching the height of the room itself, to which he discovered was a heightened cave, large enough to sustain it. He grabbed a torch to see in greater detail what was before him.

A white non-elemental dragon, no more than fifteen feet long and with a wingspan of thirty. An elegant beauty rarely seen: with a slender body, blue eyes, curled ears like an Eyru; it was truly a sight to behold.

Carrion fell to the ground in defeat, disregarding the man who had just spoken to him.

"I suppose your heart cannot see, nor your mind recall where last you've seen this being." Fenris began, such a soft tone of voice, so welcoming to all. "The name is Merith: a breyta, or shapeshifter, and one of the last of his kind. He's here for you; for your heart and mind to know what comes next."

_______________________________________

There, over the horizon she saw it: daylight's shimmering glow a sign of hope. The city bell rang its metallic clang in a scream.

Valora held her hand firmly in grip, a sense of hope and strength returning to the fragile state she was for a time she felt endless. The chance was calling for her to meet it.

"Tear the cloth from the bed." Valora said, approached the bed to take a dusty and ripped blanket, tearing it.

"But why, miss?" Ayda's eyes turned towards the other bed with confusion.

"You want to get out of here?" Valora asked with a side glance, Ayda nodded innocently, a wide grin on her small stature. "Then cover your head."

Valora stripped fabric across Ayda's face, then her's, from their garments.

Valora, then staring in thought, brought out her mother's sword. She took a pause at her reflection in the blade. "I never thought I'd have to do this a second time." Her hands trembled.

She took the sword against her head, cutting the braids from her hair; grabbing the ends and holding them on the right side of her neck, and began cutting.

"Why, miss?" Ayda's eyes grew teary, as if begging her to stop. "You did nothing wrong." 

"I did, Ayda, and I'll spend the rest of my life trying to fix it," Valora crouched down, patting Ayda's head, "but I'll start by making right with you."

Valora stood up, peering to the crowd near the docks. "Now, how do you make those rags you wore?"
_______________________________________

Sven sat in the snow chasm of the mountain winds, pained unimaginably by something that had been stuck to him for years and years. He was so focused in fact that Steffen's encouraging voice remained a muffled whisper, as was the storm around him.

"I'm a failure. Always have been. Parents threw me away, and I've never once proven myself worthy to wrong them for it." Sven began, a brief moment of sighing in self-pity. "Here I sit, a man on my left wishing he could pull my strings, not knowing how far the strings will stray from its guide's hands. With my body aching at what is around me, I fear not its murderous cries, for from this time and what's ahead, I serve no purpose."

Steffen didn't know how to reply, but with Sven's brooding in such a hostile environment, he was inclined to lift the sobbing young man over his shoulders, bringing him back inside.

With the door shut behind them, the pain from outside was taken away. Steffen placed Sven on a seat. The hall was already fled by that time, so Steffen began for the sake of his friend to cook a fine stew with what was available. Listening to Sven's complaint after complaint, Steffen stirred the pot at a constant rate with a humming tune, muffling what his friend was saying. He filled a wooden bowl and filled it, a spoon placed inside the steaming hot seasoned stew, rested in front of him on that same wooden table he wrote his speech for prior.

"Sven, I know I an't what ye were expectin'. Life, it's a hard, cruel lady. It'll beat ya down the worst in the times ye need it least." Steffen began, holding a sigh and sitting on the table, facing him from a side angle. "Ya see them scars?"

Sven slowly took a spoonful of whatever peculiar stew Steffen conjured, focusing on his last comment, seeing him pull his hair back to show a set of cuts across the side of his neck and shoulder. The one towards the shoulder looked far worse, like it was taken out of him by a beast.

"Don't know where they be from. Can't even remember me own childhood, and what memory I did have was with them put to hell Darkcloaks. A life spent as a pawn to broken men." Sven stopped eating, and the room fell silent, attentive to what Steffen had to say next, yet still slightly ignoring.

"Pardon my intrusion, but may I speak to you, son of Raeden?"

A vaguely recognized voice turned Sven's state of doubt to something of intrigue. A well established, clean voice, as though they belonged to the royalty of some place.

Steffen nodded his head, allowing him to proceed.

"I am Valen the Nameless. I came from a far away land when only a child, a place of the same name, and served under your father's banner." The man bent his knee as though to show respect, something the Greymer would never do if not an earned gesture, humbling before the young Sven, being relatively old himself.

"I believe your promises, young one, but I fear the eyes of others do not feel they will remain true." The old man chuckled a bit. "But you already knew that."

"What more do you want? Have I not provided enough disappointment?" Sven got out of his seat from that last remark, already doubting his abilities and was long past seeking more hatred upon himself.

"Why no, Raedenson." Valen turned to the room Sven previously gave his speech in. "While I may be the only one left, I wish to bring you to that dream."

"How can I know your words can be trusted?" Sven remained stubborn in uncertainty.

"How can I know if yours can?... This put to hell place, it craves the end of us all; the pride of our people stained by a foreign invader. What could I have left beyond hope and to your sake to find the answer?" Valen remained humbled in respect, seeming to try and earn Sven's trust as best he could.

"Steffen here wants the same thing. I can't help you on my own.Words can only lead so far without an end to meaning."

"You have the heart and mind of your mother, Sven. She always pursued for the right cause, and for you to a land safe from Raeden's bloodthirsty brother, Reed.... However, with desperation meeting the ends of my sanity, I dearly thirst to know, for your father led our people to an end of the Lorlyn bloodshed...that your courage can be found as well...." The man stood up. "Allow me to teach you."

Sven's eyes widened slightly. While still uncertain, for first impressions left him unable to trust anyone, he looked to Steffen and grinned, for they both believed that perhaps their chance had made its first and final arrival.

_______________________________________

The streets were bustling with people, and the docks were even more so. Valora took Ayda's hand to be sure she wouldn't get lost among the crowd. They met up with a ship captain from the mainland, payment fee ready in hand.

With posters placed all across the city, from the boats to the king's palace, they held their heads low, covering themselves in dirt to look like poor travelers, along with their ridiculous rags.

Valora feared the guard would ask them to remove their mouthpiece, but he didn't. Instead, he winked, which left them pondering for hours as to why.

He looked to be a tall human with a young face, though scraggly due to sea voyages, with dirty hair on his head like any other captain would, with a hint of salt and strong stench the closer they stood.

The ship anchored off, setting the sails with a strange banner. She looked to Ayda and back to it. It held two black curved lines facing opposite each other, with a straight black line cut through the middle. She expected the Lorlyn stallion, a black symbol riding off to the west, but that wasn't the case.

On the voyage north, Valora noticed something. Each time she got up to observe the ship deck and other passengers, fewer and fewer sights were to be found. A dark night struck the boat, making the ocean an unseen void of what it once was.

She didn't want to frighten Ayda, so she decided to sit beside her.

"I call ye by your name now, miss?" Ayda asked in a whisper, a mostly silent boat aside from the waves.

"No, not yet." Valora whispered back, softer than Ayda's comment, trying to lighten the tension with a question. "What brought you to my father's service?"

"You's smarter than me, miss. I know that, but that's not a question worth answerin'."

"But I wish the best for you. Whatever it was that hurt you then, it isn't worth thinking about." Valora placed her hand on Ayda's, making Ayda surprised, looking at her with a confused look. "You've gotten this far, haven't you?"

Ayda began to cry then and there, unable to focus on herself, let alone Valora.

"It's alright, it's alright." Valora held Ayda in an embrace. Others were already beginning to sleep, and Valora was keenly focused on everything around her. "I'm sorry."

"They hurt me, they did. Took me family away, laughed when they did it. Body aching on the floor as they took they's clothes and left."

Valora's eyes widened at that remark, glancing at her as she was held close to her chest like a child.

"He called me Ayda, he did. Master. Kept me alive thinking me was innocent. Me an't been given this, miss, not this."

Valora held her closer, rubbing her hair, hand gently gripped on the side of her face as she wiped off her tears like that of a mother.

"I'm not sure how far we'll make it, but I promise you, from this day forward I will protect you." Valora replied, Ayda cried onto her arm in comfort.

_______________________________________

A day passed them by, and Valora was still pondering the captain's wink, yet it was the only comfort from her visions of Aran. She invisioned a well kept bed, fine Eyru garments and jewels laminating her body, compounded by the silent isolation in a room, trapped from the world. Even the sea water, which she once recalled as a memory of adventure and freedom, was tainted by him --- look of innocence turned to rage, his gentle handle to a grip that tore.

Her eyes lingered nights on end, with glances to Ayda fast asleep on her lap, then to the surrounding darkness of the lower deck of the ship.

Morning couldn't have arrived later, yet the dread to disembark still haunted her, pressed by the same questions, and fearing the answers.

Eventually, they forced themselves up the ladder as well, Valora's hands around Ayda's.

The morning sun was still young when she glanced to it, sneaking onto the decks and towards the Eyru port of Sharanhone.

What what it seemed, the road beyond it was safe, so they paid a carriage to Marfield, hoping to find Carrion's old friend: Haylan.

With the sight of day outside the windows of the wooden carriage, Valora began to smile. She witnessed the beautiful forests of southern Faulon, the only woodland that remained untouched by human hands. Its large oak trees, and many clusters of elm, ash, and others grew tall with long branches filled with snow, and a thick trunk at each of their bases. She was made certain that their road was safe.

The pain of her poison seemed to be returning, so she asked for Ayda to provide her more.

"Of course, miss." Ayda gave her the cure, but an arrow crossing into their carriage shattered the remains of it, glass and liquid powder spilled all over their feet.

Time quickly stopped. Her heart and mind were frozen in shock, like the world around her faded to red.

"Archers at the ready! Spears in formation!" A human male voice shouted, a commanding tone held back by uncertainty and fear.

Footsteps began scurrying about, more arrows to meet them before even considering a shield wall...it was an ambush.

"No, not here, not now! I...I...I can't fight like this!" Valora began losing balance on her seat, arrows flying past them through the open window.

"Valora!" Ayda screamed, trying to lift her back up, shutting the window.

Arrows began to ram into the cart, their tips trapped against the wall of the right side, like the tips of a beast's fans thirsting for their blood.

Valora's voice fell silent, her ears growled into a violent ring. Her head screamed and ached, eyes slowly turning to darkness.

Ayda attempted to wake her fully, but the window was kicked down, pushed her against the seat with a roar of pain... she was taken...by a foreign hand.... Ayda's screams were already mute to her, cries silenced by a strong grip that took her away from Valora, while all she could do was watch. Her weak grasp was lifted into the air, desperately trying to call out for her... but it was too late, it was already numbed....

There it was on the soldier's chest armor, that same symbol on the ship's flag...Almar's....