The frustrations of the afternoon where wearing down on her faster than she would have liked to admit

Okay, guys. I don't know WHY I'm even posting this. It's really stupid

and probably won't even make a whole lot of sense. I wouldn't be

surprised if the very idea disinterested you from the beginning.

Though, if you are actually venturing into this particular realm there

ARE a few things I'd like to make clear before you do so.

This is RAW ROLEPLAY between Croik and myself. I give a lot of credit

to Croik on this one because she always wrote Allen. I'm sure you'll be

able to figure out who "Ayryn" is and will probably end up hating me

for it. *sniff* Don't hate me yet. I'm still good for some things.

Second, the plot is sketchy, if one can actually call it a plot. I'm

not sure what the plot is. It's unfinished and will probably always be

unfinished unless people actually like it to the point of demanding

more . . . I doubt that though.

Third, just because I wrote the story this is based off of and Ayryn

claims to have written the story (she's basically me), a lot of what

Ayryn does is not true to myself. Once Ayryn entered the realm of

fiction, she too became fiction even if some events she describes are

based from real life occurances. Don't worry, I'm not psycho.

Fourth, this is not a sneak peak at what will happen in Of Shadows and

Light. In fact, this started before I thought up the plot for the real

story. The events in this timeline go in a completely different

direction. You won't even see Denevive (and the crowd cheers . . .). It

takes place a month or so after Allen loses his arm (there goes my

audience). So here we go with the story (or lack thereof).

I hope you all find it in your hearts to forgive me and enjoy the

fiction. Sorry, Croik, my friend. I had to do it. It was just sitting

on my computer, being unappreciated. SOMEONE's bound to like this . . .

I think .........@_@

Love,

C. Selene Belyea *^-^*

@}-----}-----------

The frustrations of the afternoon where wearing down on her faster than she would have liked to admit. Writer's block was a terrible thing sometimes and it just made her tired to think about. Sleep sounded like a much better idea anyway. Off she wandered to her small dormitory and flopped on her bed, shutting her eyes and almost forcing slumber to appear. Why can't adventure happen in real life, like in her stories? Why did things have to be so - realistic? Sleep came longer than she would have liked, but it came nonetheless. Her breath relaxed and her world changed.

Transition to that world was always strange to experience. When things seemed real and you had to tell yourself that it's just a dream. It was dark this time, not like other dreams she'd had. But when she took in a deep breath, the air was sweet with flowers and grass. Warmth was on her face and she thought to herself, my dreams have gotten extremely vivid lately. Well, that's what you get for using your imagination too much. She opened her eyes and there stopped. The sun was above her, the grass was around her, and she stared up the length of three feet of steel pressed against her neck.

Celena stared down the length of her sword at the strange girl that she'd come across. It wasn't one of the maids...she was dressed in such strange clothing. "I hope you realize," Celena said evenly, "that you're trespassing, whoever you are."

She stared at her, wide-eyed and dared not gulp with the sword in such a precarious place. "T-trespassing?" Trembling came quickly to her small form and she didn't know how to react. The sword bearer - she knew who she was but, "This - can't be real!" She scrambled out from under the sword's reach, climbing to her feet and backing away. "I can't believe this! This," she calmed and laughed suddenly, "I get it. It's a dream. It's all just -" She grabbed a chunk of grass to prove her point but stared at it when it was as real as anything she's ever touched. "H-holy mother of Jehova's Witnesses!"

Celena lifted a pale eyebrow, regarding the strange girl with mixed confusion, apprehension, and amusement. She certainly didn't look like a spy or a thief. Probably some noble's foreign hand-maiden or something. Still, she didn't sheathe her sword just yet. "Calm down. Just tell me what you're doing here."

She held her head in her hands. "What did I take before going to sleep? I've sworn off Nyquil! I don't - think I took any...I - What?" She asked, looking at the girl and realizing she had spoken to her. "I'm . . . I haven't the slightest idea what the hell I'm doing here!" she practically yelled, throwing her arms up in defeat. "This is supposed to be something that happens to people who don't have anything better to do in their lives! Jesus, Mary, and Joseph on a crutch!" She cursed, "And you! I know who you are. Celena, right?"

Celena took a step back at the mention of her name, her sword grip tightening. What in the names of the Gods was she babbling about? "Who are you?" she demanded, her tone warning. "How do you know me?"

"Me?" she pointed at herself. "You want to know who I am?"

"Yes, you. Who are you, what are you doing here, and how do you know me?" She lifted her chin haughtily. "If I don't like your answers, I'll hand you over to the knights, so you'd better have a good excuse for being here."

"Being here." She echoed and looked around. "I assume this is - Schezar property?"

Celena's face twisted in frustration. "You know my name, but you didn't know that?" She lifted her sword menacingly. "Now answer my questions."

Sword, she thought nervously, sword coming closer.... "I'm -," She stopped, realizing what she was going to say. How did she get here, from a world that knows this one as nothing but fantasy? This is a story . . . she traveled to a story? There were several books and stories about such adventures and she recalled them, remembering what the heroines did in such situations - made up their appearance. "I'm from - well. I can't remember where I'm from. But everyone knows who the Schezars are - I think." That's right. Pretend you have amnesia! Maybe she'll buy it.

"You....don't remember?" Celena frowned. She should have known better than to trust anything the girl said, but it hadn't been long when she was in a similar circumstance... Her tone softened considerably. "How would you remember us? I've never seen you before."

"Gaea is a very large place, my lady." She said, finally curtseying respectively to her. She remembered the Schezars were nobility; also that many thought Hitomi was a hand-maiden due to her outfit. Her own clothes were out of the ordinary, true, having worn denim jeans which the material is best known for tents in a world such as this. Her top would be deemed promiscuous due to the fact that it slightly revealed her mid-rift and was tight around the bosom. What an atrocious condition to be found in, in such a place, she thought.

"I suppose it is." Celena sheathed her sword, at last deciding that there was no threat in the stranger. She didn't appear to be carrying a weapon, and her posture was not of a fighter. Perhaps she really was a lost handmaid--or a slave. Perhaps that would explain her attire... "Well, can you tell me your name, at least?"

My name? Again, she would have to use her deceptive talents. "Ayryn." she said confidently, remembering her favorite character from games of Dungeons and Dragons she would play with her friends. "Ayryn Selanesi, at your service, my lady." She curtseyed again, this time a bit more gracefully and smugly recalling the fact that 'Ayryn' was an elven princess...although that personality would not go over very well here.

She certainly had changed her attitude quickly, Celena noted with some disquiet. From all jittery to polite in a brief moment. Well, anyone in her situation would be frightened and confused at first. She hummed thoughtfully as she considered the name--she didn't know the Selanesi line, but it sounded Cesarian. "Well, Ayryn," she declared suddenly, "I guess I can at least offer you some hospitality. Would you like to come back to the house with me?"

Yeah, as long as your brother's there, she thought but she had to repress the smile that was tempted to cross her lips. She bowed her head, "I would appreciate that, very much, my lady. And, uh," she looked down at herself, covering her exposed flesh with an embarrassed smile, "would you be able to spare some appropriate attire for me? You have caught me in my casual clothing that is not very becoming of me in society."

"Oh, certainly." A maid's dress for her, Celena thought to herself. She may have been raised to be polite, but there was no way she was allowing this stranger to wear any of the new outfits her brother had bought for her recently. She started down the hill toward the Schezar home. "Come on, then. Is there anything more you can tell me about yourself? How you got here, for instance?"

She quickly caught up with the taller girl, almost left behind by Celena's quick depart. "I - I'm afraid I can't remember. I think I was out for a walk. It's strange that I can't remember, though. I - I might have been attacked and maybe that's why I can't remember." She shrugged, "I really don't know. The details of that are sort of sketchy." So, is your brother home? He still seeing that princess? Can I have him instead? Shut up, she scolded herself.

"Hmmm. You have my sympathy, then." Ayryn sounded sincere enough, but also strangely eager. Perhaps it was simply her nature. "Well, I didn't see anyone out there besides you."

She sighed, shaking her head and hoping she was more convincing than what it appeared to be. "True. Like I said, I really don't remember. I have no marks on me so perhaps I wasn't attacked after all. Otherwise there would be physical signs of struggle. Are we almost there?" She changed the subject, bringing a hand up to shield her eyes from the sun. Not too far in the distance stood a large manor with round roofs. Funny, it never looked that way within her imagination.

"It's just over there," Celena indicated. She looked her companion over critically. "I've never seen clothes quite like yours, so I'm afraid I can't offer you much help. You must have traveled far." She shrugged. "In any case, you'll be welcomed to stay for a while. We don't have much, but I think my brother could use the company."

Some sort of wild elation filled the girl suddenly with those words and she desperately tried to keep herself composed. "Really? If I'm not mistaken, you speak of Allen Schezar, correct? The hero Knight of Heaven who helped save Gaea from a certain unspeakable end?" Maybe I'm overdoing it, she thought grimly.

Celena cocked an eye. "For someone who has no memory of where they came from, you certainly know a lot about us," she commented sharply.

Okay, so my role-playing needs work. "Perhaps I do remember where I came from." Ayryn said with more mystery to her voice, "but it should not be revealed just yet."

Her eyes narrowed--was this girl now toying with her? The thought made her bristle indignantly. "This better not be some pathetic attempt to catch a glimpse of my brother," she warned, her blood boiling at the thought of all the "visitors" they'd been receiving lately. "Though you've come up with the most creative excuse yet."

"Do all your "visitors" dress in such foreign clothing?" Ayryn countered, equally indignant.

Celena cocked an eye. "Maybe not. But...I wouldn't think it impossible." She continued on, thinking. "You're obviously not a servant, so don't bother trying to act like it anymore."

"You're right. I'm not a servant." said the girl haughtily, "So what led you to believe that I wasn't?"

"Your attitude, of course." She smiled a bit. "Somehow, you remind me a little of myself. But I'll warn you," she went on loftily, "if this is some prank, I'll have you gutted."

Gutted, Ayryn thought as she swallowed the lump that formed in her throat, what a lovely thought. "I'll - keep that in mind." she took a breath and braved herself for the next question, "So, how is your brother?"

Celena's eyes flashed to her sharply. Quickly she calmed herself--this girl was a stranger. She wouldn't know. "He's...been better. But he's been worse." She said no more than that, leading her guest into the house through the servant's entrance.

"Better?" she looked confused for a moment. What part of the story am I at, anyway? Her heart slowly began to sink at the thought but denied it before she saw anything. "Well, I should hope he's doing well. Ah, the servant's entrance. And yet I'm not a servant. Quite the entourage you're becoming." She flashed Celena a smile.

"It's the fastest way in," Celena replied with a shrug. "Besides, it's from here that we're going to find you a new wardrobe." She smiled prettily, and called out to one of the young maiden's scampering about. "Jeyla, will you fetch a dress for our guest? Thank you."

The strange girl ended up trailing behind Celena, looking about the house wide-eyed as they passed through. She hardly noticed when Celena was finished giving orders to the maid and turned to face her. She grinned sheepishly. "You have a lovely home, Lady Celena." She looked up, "High ceilings..."

Celena couldn't help a small, proud smile. "It's been in our family for generations. You're welcomed to look around, if you want." A moment later the servant girl returned, and handed Ayryn a pale blue maid's gown. Celena thanked her. "Well, I'll take you to one of the guest rooms, so you can get changed," she offered. "I can have a bath prepared, if you like." She was only making the effort because she knew Allen would have, though she made her voice sound polite.

Ayryn took a moment to examine the gown, smiling almost childishly. A real, hand-made gown! It wasn't full of frills and ruffles but it was at least her favorite color. "Lovely. Yes, this would be very nice. I thank you, Celena." She curtseyed briefly. "And a bath is not necessary. I had one this morning." I wonder what they do for shampoo, she thought as she followed the tall, pale haired girl down a hallway to a guest room.

She seemed so happy--it was only a maid's gown. Perhaps she was lower in status than Celena had first anticipated. Her strange clothing and face-paint--could she, perhaps, be a brothel girl? The thought made her flush, and she quickly turned her eyes forward. She didn't know much about things--what if Allen could tell, and would become upset with her for inviting such riff-raff into their home? But, how would Allen know a brothel girl by her looks? What if he DID? Celena bit her lip, now very confused and distraught, though she tried to hide it. "It's nothing, really. And stop curtseying. It doesn't matter to me."

Ayryn frowned, raising a finger knowingly. "Right. No curtseying. I'll remember that. Uh - should I curtsey to the master of the house hold then?" She silently growled at herself, I could've sworn I had this medieval manner thing down. I'll have to work on it.

"The first time," Celena replied somewhat distractedly. "But knowing my brother, he'll most likely tell you it's unnecessary." She continued to fiddle with the hilt of her sword all the way down the hall, and at last indicated an unoccupied guest room. "Here you are. I'm going to tell my brother you're here--wait here for me."

Ayryn nodded once, thanking Celena quietly before entering the room. She changed very quickly, throwing her clothes on the floor and slipping the dress over her head. She looked down at the ties and remembered to lace the bodice up instead of down. "Renaissance Faire comes in handy." She said, smiling to herself when she finished.

Celena returned shortly, her thoughts a bit disorganized. Allen had agreed to meet her--she was surprised, as he'd been adamant about discouraging them of late. Perhaps it was a good sign.... She tapped lightly on the door. "Ayryn? Are you prepared?"

"Yes." She said lightly, straightening her sleeves and smoothing her dress when her eyes caught the laces of her bodice. She almost panicked. Was it up or down? Oh, no! What if I did it the wrong way...too late. The door slowly opened and Ayryn stood in front of it, trembling terribly.

Celena eyed the girl carefully, and tried to keep her face from contorting into a look of profound irritation--her bodice had been laced UP. Perhaps she truly was a brothel girl after all...but it was too late, as her brother awaited them. "It looks good on you," she said lightly, noting with increasing annoyance that the bodice, whichever way it was laced, accented her feature very well. "Come on--Allen's waiting." She started away curtly before waiting for a response.

"Of course." She swallowed, fidgeting with the laces absently. She was very nervous and the way Celena glared at her didn't help. She made a mistake. . . you're supposed to lace it downwards so that your breasts are exposed last when the laces are untied. She could've slapped herself but instead clenched her jaw and followed Celena once more.

Celena led them down the hall, through the corridors to the study where Allen awaited. She paused with her hand on the door. "Ayryn," she said quietly, hoping that he wouldn't hear from the inside. Her eyes shone seriously. "Please, be considerate to him." Without another word she twisted the handle and opened the door, indicating that she should enter.

One would think that the master of such a large estate, a young one no less, would be - more out and about, per say. Ayryn obeyed Celena and entered the room quietly. "Sir Allen..." she began.

Allen glanced up from the book he'd been reading, slipping a thin slip of ribbon to mark his page. He was dressed in a simple, three piece suit of light blue, his hair tied loosely back to keep it from his face. He was as elegant and handsome as any of his female admirers would have attested to, and yet there was a sadness in his flashing sapphire eyes. The reason for this was clearly seen--or rather, not seen--with the folded, empty sleeve on his right side.

She felt a rush when she saw that. It wasn't elation like before. It was incredible guilt. "Oh, dear." She found herself whispering, quickly regaining composure and curtseying. "Forgive my intrusion to your - estate." She stammered. She argued with herself whether she should say more, her jaw working in her uncertainty.

Allen nodded vaguely, looking his guest over. She certainly wasn't as odd as her sister had described her, but then, perhaps it was the change in attire. "It's all right," he told her, waving her further inside. "Celena explained everything to me. You're quite welcomed here."

Ayryn stepped closer, gazing at his handsome face. It was certainly something more to behold in person. "I - I am?" she asked uncertainly, "Your sister explained to me that visitors have been - well, looked down upon lately. It only surprises me that that should not hold true for me." You're jumping ahead of yourself, she thought and quickly curtseyed humbly.

"Most of my visitors lately have come for...a different purpose," he admitted, unable to hide a certain tone of bitterness. They'd come to gawk, was more like it. "Besides, she tells me you arrived most mysteriously." A smile quirked his lips. "And I have a feeling there's more to it than simple amnesia. Care you explain?"

"Do I care to explain?" Yes, was her immediate thought. She fumbled around words, trying to figure out what she should say. I'm from the Mystic Moon . . . but that's not it at all! I'm from Earth but a different Earth and that explanation will just confuse everyone. Poor guy, she though, glancing sadly at his injury, I'm really mean to him. Ayryn stood there, not realizing how much time went by as she mumbled incoherently. She looked into his eyes again, taking a breath. Here goes nothing. "I'm from across the ocean. My country is called Sirivus. I was - travelling by sea when a storm caught our ship."

Allen blinked slowly, clearly not convinced. "Miss Ayryn," he said evenly, "I'll warn you that I'm quite a good judge of character. There is no country across the ocean called Sirivus. And you're in excellent condition for someone having survived a shipwreck." He lifted an eyebrow. "You can try a different story, if you like."

Her breath caught in her throat. Okay, so Dungeons and Dragons won't work here. She closed her eyes. "I'm from Earth." She said quietly.

He smiled, as if having anticipated that answer all along. "The Mystic Moon," he said quietly, resting his chin on the back of his curved palm. "Thank you, for telling me the truth. I once knew someone from your same world." His voice took on a soft, nostalgic tone. "I often wondered about what a place it might have been. Perhaps you'll tell me sometime."

"Uh - if you like." She stumbled over her words again as she did with her curtsey. "But, if it all right with you, Sir Allen . . . as far as everyone else is concerned, I'm from Sirivus." She tried for a hopeful smile.

"Of course--we couldn't go around telling everyone you're from the Mystic Moon." Allen titled his head to the side curiously. Even in those simple gestures and smiles, he still looked sad... "You seem to know something about Gaea, Ayryn. I was under the impression that your people were unaware of us. Was I wrong?"

"No, no." Oh, geez, how do I explain this one? She shook her head and smiled at him again. "Just call me intuitive."

Ah, full of secrets, this one. Just like Hitomi had been--were all those from the Mystic Moon fortune tellers and soothsayers? What an interesting society they must have, everyone knowing everyone else's future....or perhaps, how boring. "All right, then. In any case, I'm afraid I really don't know how to send you back to your world. Until we can devise a way, you're welcomed here."

"Begging your pardon, sir." She began softly, "But I do not wish to go back. You need not concern yourself with such efforts. And I thank you, humbly, for your welcome."

Allen straightened somewhat in his chair. Did not wish to go back? He hadn't expected at that at all. "Well, then," he said a bit awkwardly. "It's your business, so I won't pry. Is there anything you require? Something to eat, perhaps?"

"No, I'm not hungry." she waved her hand dismissively before she stopped and gazed at him again. "I'm - I'm sorry to hear about your injury. It must have been a great loss to Asturia - to lose their most valuable knight." You're rambling on again, she thought, cringing at what she must sound like to him.

Allen's kind visage faltered briefly at her abrupt change in subject, and the ease in which she spoke of his..impairment. "Yes, one could say that," he murmured distantly, escaping her gaze. "I suppose it is no more than fate's will."

"I'm sorry." she whispered, seeing how hurt he was. It effected her much more than just reading about it. "Well, I was wondering actually. . . if you wish to discuss more - things - with me? Perhaps go for a walk?" She shrugged, wanting only to speak with him now.

Allen turned back to her, his interest genuinely perked. It had been a while since he'd simply....walked. To even leave the manor was to risk becoming a spectacle. But she seemed like an earnest, kind young woman, and he had to admit that he could use the company. "All right. That would be fine." He set his book aside and stood, smiling.

"Wow, your tall." She said softly, mostly to herself. She stared up at his full height, guessing that he was a whole foot taller than she was. She grinned sheepishly at him. "Eh - That suit is very becoming of you." Isn't the man supposed to give YOU compliments, not the other way around?

Allen grinned, somewhat surprised by her compliment. "I thank you. If you're going to be staying for a while, perhaps we can find something for you more suitable than a maid's gown, hmm?" He smiled to show that he was only kidding, and offered his arm. "Shall we?"

"Oh, yes. Of course." She said politely, slowly taking his arm and smiling up at him. "You're very trusting of strangers, you know. We've only just met." Well, you've just met me but I've known you for quite sometime. I practically wrote your life - parts of it anyway.

"Perhaps it's my weakness for a lovely young lady," he admitted, feeling a bit of his old spirit return to him. It was something new for him, to be in the presence of a lady who was not staring at his right side, trying to sound interested with him when she was only searching for a charming tale for her friends.

"Lovely indeed." She mocked herself, "I've been known to have more rugged and abrupt features. And I'm not very delicate so I guess calling me a lady isn't right. Your sister, on the other hand, is very pretty and her features more delicate than anything I could wish for. I have to admit that I'm envious of her. You must be proud of her."

"Yes, I am. Though I still think you shouldn't be quite so modest." He led her outside the study, down the hall. "I am a gentleman who only speaks truth."

"A knight by heart as well, I'm willing to bet." She winked. They were led outside, walking amid trees and up a hill close to where she woke up. "Well, now. This is certainly a pleasant sight to behold. The smell of flowers in the air, blue skies, good company. I could live the rest of my life like this."

Allen looked down at her curiously. "I'm a bit surprised," he murmured. "True, it is beautiful country, but are you so eager to leave your own? Surely you have a home to go back to....?"

"Not really." She said, sitting down in the grass and enjoying how her dress fluffed about her with the sudden catch of air. "There's nothing there for me. This is much better than anything I could have hoped for."

He seated himself beside her, still a bit concerned. "Nothing? No home, no family?" He found this very hard to believe--even in his most desperate times, he had always sought out Asturia, his home, his country.

"Well - sure. But," she sighed, looking down at her hands, "I don't know. I live with my uncle. Moved out from my mother's house because she went crazy. Married a stoic ass and moved away from the house I grew up in. I couldn't stand the man courting her so I left. I have a sister. I'll miss her but she'll be all right. As for my uncle - he's better off without me around anyway."

Allen sighed quietly, his face showing genuine sympathy. "I'm sure they would miss you more than you realize," he murmured, saddened by her ease in escaping her family, no matter the state of disarray. "You can never know the minds of those you leave behind."

"So, let them miss me. I'm probably better off here." She looked at him, seeing his concern and sighed. "But I thank you for your concern. Don't worry."

Allen nodded, content to trust in her decision. They had just met, after all, and he had no right to force his advice upon her. Yet still...he felt for those that she was abandoning. "So...do you have any idea of how you were able to get here?" he asked, changing the subject to something more pleasant.

"Not really. It's very strange. One minute I'm asleep, then next I'm three inches away from my life being cut short by steel." She laughed softly, "Kind of funny, actually. I don't think Celena likes me. Which I can understand, a strange girl like me intruding on property own by a very handsome young man..."

Yes, Allen was definitely starting to feel more like himself. He tried not to look too pleased. "Oh, I'm sure she's just wary--she doesn't, after all, know the true circumstances of how you came here. I'm sure she'll be all right as soon as we explain everything to her."

Ayryn studied him a moment, gazing intently at his handsome face. It was so forlorn that it tore at her heart and briefly debated telling him more of the truth. Perhaps later would be more appropriate. She smiled slightly and the wind blew gently and tugged at his blond hair. "I mentioned earlier that you're very trusting of strangers. And you are. Not a half hour ago did I arrive here, by whatever means, and here we are, chatting as if we were old friends. You don't know me. All you know is that I'm from the Mystic Moon. Perhaps this has something to do with your interest in me? Actually taking the time to go outdoors?"

Allen was momentarily taken aback--could she tell that he hadn't been outside lately? It just seemed so...pointless to subject himself to being in front people. They all stared so horribly. He gathered himself quickly, however. "Actually, I once knew someone from the Mystic Moon. Maybe...you remind me of her a little."

"You had said that earlier as well." She cocked her head, taking another moment to study him. "Don't you find it strange that I know so much about you and your sister and Gaea itself? Isn't it out of the ordinary that a perfect stranger would feel so comfortable conversing with one such as yourself after having just met?"

"I suppose it is a bit strange," he admitted. Why was he so compelled to trust her? "But then, I've known quite a few...open-minded women. I'm used to it by now. And as for your knowing quite a bit about Gaea..." He raised an eyebrow. "I am a bit curious."

"Damn." she cursed to herself, "I was afraid of that."

Allen chuckled at her open profanity. Any other knight or noble would have been offended, but he knew better. "As I have offered you my hospitality, it would be only appropriate, don't you agree? And don't worry--I have quite an imagination."

"You'll need it." She sighed. "I'm not sure if it's such a good idea to tell you. At least, not yet."

"I don't see how any other time would be better," he replied knowingly.

She moved closer to him, feeling her heart sinking further as she looked at him. He sat there, flesh and blood and as real as anything she's ever seen. She began to stare intently at his right side, words choking in her throat. I can't believe I've done that do him. "No more words," she whispered, "Now it's reality..."

Allen regarded her curiously, catching the strange tone in her voice. He followed her gaze and seemed to understand, unconsciously shifting to obstruct her view of his right side. "I beg your pardon?"

"How did you lose your arm, Allen?" She asked softly, her face mirroring her tone. She moved to put a hand on his right shoulder, feeling the fabric, moving her hand down the folded sleeve.

Allen jerked away from her suddenly--no one but Celena had yet to touch the stump that had once been his right arm, his very life. He frowned at himself. "I'm--I'm sorry," he murmured, escaping her gaze. Why should she express such sympathy and pain for him? She barely knew him....didn't she? "It was....a duel. I lost my arm in a duel."

"It was a mistake, wasn't it?" She asked, feeling her hands trembling. She thought she could stop the nervous reaction if she held them together tightly but the blood still coursed through her veins furiously. She felt light headed as she continued like this but there was nothing more she could do.

"...Yes. But then, no one ever plans for these things...." He turned his head upwards, as if inspecting the summer sky. But.. at least he was outside. He was speaking to her about it. He sighed--it was almost calming, in a way.

Ayryn could help a small smile when he said that. "That's - actually rather amusing. . .And is the sky really all that interesting?"

"I don't see what's so amusing about it," Allen replied somewhat petulantly. He shifted, chose to ignore her last remark.

"Well," she humphed, "Excuse me for finding amusement where it's not welcome."

"It happens to be a matter of some sensitivity with me. I'd appreciate your discretion." All the same he turned to face her once more. "Why does it sound like you already knew?" he asked, trying not to sound accusing.

She simply smiled at him. "I'm fourth generation psychic." She bowed her head as if being introduce to him all over again. "And no, not everyone on the Mystic Moon is a fortune teller. We're a special breed."

Allen hmphed, wondering briefly what else she knew about him. How easily Hitomi had been able to pick all the secrets and worries from his mind... "May I ask how much you know about me already, then?"

"What would you like to know?" She asked merrily, her mood lifting abruptly with her prior declaration.

"How much you know about me," he repeated. "My past. My...future?" He felt a sudden eagerness, wondering what fate might have in store for him now. Or perhaps it was dread that raised his pulse.

"Your past? Oh, dear. Where should I start?" she raised a hand to her chin in contemplation. "Well, your father left to chase a dream, your sister - the one that can't stand me at the moment - was kidnapped by a very shadowy government." She sighed as if bored, "Your mother died of grief, you went off seeking death as a bandit, a man named Balgus took you in as a pupil of the sword, you won the heart of a rebel princess . . . should I go on?"

"No," he said quickly, "that's quite enough." How could she speak of it so openly? The very memories pained him so... "You certainly are a woman without shame," he muttered, wondering perhaps if he had been wrong to trust this stranger so soon. Knowing that she was so well-versed in his history unnerved him.

She grinned. "I make you uncomfortable, do I? I know too much?" She stood from the grass and let the blades brush past her borrowed gown as she walked a few steps away from him. "You asked. And about that duel . . . it almost turned out differently."

"What do you mean?" Allen demanded, growing wary. He remained seated, watching her very closely.

"Well, if you hadn't intervened in the conversation - uh, that's what they call an exchange of blows in fencing - well, you're sister . . ." she almost didn't want to continue, for anticipation of reaction or pure discomfort she could not say.

Allen found himself on his feet before realizing he'd moved. "What? What about her?" His fist tightened at his side. If...what was she saying? His stomach was churning.

"Oh, what does it matter?" She turned, seeing that he had climbed to his feet and had to look up at him. "It didn't happen that way. What ever way it was."

"But..." Allen pursed his lips, told himself it was better to stay silent and let it be. He didn't want to know what she had been going to say. He didn't want that knowledge. "Maybe...we'd better go back inside."

"Yes, perhaps your right. I've had enough fresh air for one day." She moved next to him, expecting to be escorted back. "Make sure you tell me when I've overstayed my welcome. All right?"

"Of course," he replied vaguely. She had given him much to ponder, and he didn't think to take her arm as they started back toward the house. "You're welcomed to stay, since you have no where else to go."

Ayryn frowned when he didn't offer his arm to her. She pursed her lips and followed him. "I'm sure after a while I can establish myself. Maybe some sort of business in Palas. I am a seamstress, you know. Among other things."

"Oh? Then perhaps I'll have Celena take you into town sometime. There may be a shop where you can apply."

"Celena?" she cringed at the thought. "Don't you want to take me instead?"

"I..." He hesitated. Surely she knew already--she knew so much--he thought with a bit of discontent. "I don't go into the town much anymore," he said simply.

"Stop! Would you stop!" She grabbed his arm and pulled him to a stop. "You're walking too fast. I can't keep up."

Allen stared, unaware that he had been walking at anything more than a normal pace. He pursed his lips. "Sorry." He was at a loss for anything else, and glanced briefly at her hand on his arm. He lifted the limb in offering to her. "Shall we continue?"

She closed her eyes and sighed, taking his arm. "Yes, please." They started walking, his pace slower to keep with Ayryn's shorter strides. "Have you been to a ball yet?"

"Not since the accident." He was beginning to grow uncomfortable with her questions. He couldn't even attempt to supply a pleasant lie--would she know already? She was digging deeply into matters best left not discussed.

Ah, so it's before he goes to see Millerna. I'm half tempted to take over her role in the story. . .He is after all supposed to be like Denevive. That's how Daniel explained it. Only Allen has blonde hair instead of brown. It's almost the same though so - why not? She sighed and smiled. "Not to worry, Allen. I don't know everything. I can't tell what you're thinking right now, for instance. But I do know that you're so dreadfully uncomfortable with everything we've discussed. I just hope you forgive me for being presumptuous and I hope you'll still want to speak with me."

If Allen was surprised by her apology, he didn't show it. "It's...all right, Ayryn. I suspected you would have many questions." He now had much to consider, thanks to her. He wasn't sure if he should be pleased for it.

She pulled on his arm and forced him to stop before they entered the house. "I still do have questions. What of Millerna?"

He'd feared that, and turned to gaze at her evenly. "What of her?" he asked, showing in his eyes that he'd prepared for this. He didn't want her to catch him unawares again.

"The youngest princess of Asturia? Now crowned Queen because of her father's death. Her older sister Eries refused the crown. Millerna still loves you dearly but - is it love or pure infatuation?" She raised an eyebrow. "And do you love her back?"

"That is very much none of your business or concern," he rejoined tersely. "You may know much about me, Ayryn, but don't assume that entitles you to anything. I'll ask you to mind your own matters above mine, thank you very much. Now, may we?" He nodded toward the awaiting household.

"No. You can. I'm going alone." She gave him a sour look as she headed toward the house herself, almost running towards the servant's entrance. "Bastard. Just who does he think he is, anyway? I never wrote him like that." She entered through the slim doorway and found herself in the large kitchen. A plump little cook was happily stirring at a pot on the stove. Ayryn gave her a slight smile before saying, "You must be Mallie."

Mallie glanced up curiously from her work. "Oh, um, hello there, Miss," she greeted somewhat awkwardly. "Yes, I am. Are you perhaps a friend of Lady Celena's? I'd not heard we were expecting company."

"Yes, well. I just arrived today. I'm more of an acquaintance than anything but they were kind enough to take me in until I can settle down in Palas." She flashed a smiled at her before stepping up next to her and staring down into the pot. "So, what's for dinner?"

"Nothing all that fancy, I'm afraid," the woman replied heartily. "Since I wasn't expecting you. It's Pheasant Stew, miss. And we're to have herb potatoes, water-berry and fresh vegetables. Is there anything else you'd like to have?"

"Engleberries." She said with a smile, holding back a snicker. "I'm sure Allen would love some of that on his plate."

Mallie lifted an eyebrow curiously. "Sorry, Ma'am, but we don't keep many engleberries around, and Master Allen might have my head if I served them." She couldn't help but smile herself.

"It was worth a shot." She winked at the cook. "But everything you've described sounds just fine to me. I can't wait. Is Misshel around? I've heard much about him and wished to meet him."

"Oh, that little rascal?" she said with a laugh. "I'm sure he's around here somewhere, probably with Lady Celena. You could try the stables."

"Oh?" She smiled widely. "Do you think they'll let me ride? It's been so long since the last time I've ridden a horse."

"I don't know, Ma'am. It would be up to Lady Celena." She shrugged and returned to her cooking. "I'm sure she wouldn't be against the idea, though."

"Thank you." She bid her a brief farewell before starting out once more towards where she thought the stables would be. I always said they were down a hill on the right side of the manor. Ayryn ran towards that place and found nothing but trees and fields, being able to see a road from around the house that led to the front of the manor. In the far distance, a little bit of the sea horizon could be seen. But no stables.