A/N: Hey! Well, um, I guess this is the follow up to "Us and Them". For those of you who haven't read it it's not required to understand this story but it provides some-what of an insight. The Stalker (narrator) from "Us and Them" is the same one that's going to be featured in here.
... I really need to work on finishing stories I start. /desp

Update, 05.27.10: Just going back and fixing some errors, etc.

Chapter 1: The Messenger

Her footsteps were muffled by the sand beneath her feet, her prints nothing but slight depressions in the grains. Maybe thieves made their bases in the desert for a reason.

It was annoying, actually. Aside from the fact that her shoes kept slipping with every step she could swear that she had picked up at least half a pound of sand in her shoes alone. Oh well, that's what she got for going off of the "path" in Morroc.

Finally the priestess could feel her heel connect with sturdy ground again and she squinted ahead. Even in the falling dusk she could make out a rough, wooden sign with worn-out red letters that red "Morroc Pub" hanging above the doorway of an old stone building. The girl's step quickened as she hurried inside, shutting the creaking door behind her.

She sighed lightly, leaning against the wall and brushed a bit of dark blue hair from her eyes. Her other hand reached down to empty the sand from her shoes. Straightening back up she knocked her toe to the ground once to secure her shoe and looked around, the hood of her cloak covering the top half of her face.

The pub was a dimly-lit place, filled with the smell of dust and alcohol. There was maybe about five other people there, including the bartender; though none of them seemed to take notice when the door opened. She looked around quickly, exhaled, and walked quickly across the room, leaning against the counter, trying to get the bartender's attention.

Finally, the man looked up, a hint of annoyance in his voice. "Ya want something?"

"Um, well…" The priestess blinked, taken aback. The Church had told her the people in Morroc weren't exactly the nicest of folks, but really! "If you—I have this— um…"

"Waitta sec. You from the Church?" The bartender raised his head, looking at the girl fully for the first time, his interest suddenly sparked. "What do they want?"

The girl pursed her lips, but didn't answer. Instead she simply slid a hand into her robes and pulled out a piece of folded parchment, the words "Assassin Guild" written in a blue, loopy scrawl across the front.

The bartender's eyebrow raised as her saw this and he quickly took it from the girl's possession, checked for something on the back, and roughly shoved it back into her hands, along with a small rusted key.

He did this without a word, but seemed to have reached a kind of understanding. Leaning forward the man whispered something in the girl's ear and she nodded. turning to go back outside, the priestess gave a quick glance back over her shoulder and shut the door behind her.

Holding the letter in her hand she looked around again and slid to the side of the building, following its wall until she found what appeared to be a cellar door, a rusted iron lock. Well, it seemed to match. Taking the key from her pocket she inserted it into the keyhole and turned it.

She was rewarded with a small click and the padlock popping open, allowing the girl to slip inside. It was even dustier down in the cellar, darker, too.

"Ruwach !"

A pale blue light appeared circling around the girl's midriff and lighting the room in a rather eerie glow.

"How did you get in here?" A quiet but rough voice sounded from one of the few shadows left in the room, causing the girl to jump. A tall, slender figure walked forward, clothed in the classic Assassin Cross uniform. With golden-colored hair partially hidden under a Boy's Cap. The man's arms were crossed in front of his chest, both his icy blue eyes and the knifes on his gauntlets reflecting her Ruwach's light, flashing a warning.

"I, uh—"

"I said, 'how did you get in here?'." He glared at the girl, taking a step forward. The cross's voice doubled in the threats it carried. "Don't make me ask again."

"I'm—I'm Ninya Cruze! I was sent here by the Pronteran Church regarding the alliance of the Sanctuary and the Assassins' Guild!"

She flinched, saying this all very fast and in one breath. Bringing out the parchment and holding it in front of her like a miniature shield, her head bowed and her eyes shut tight as the assassin walked towards her.

He frowned slightly, swiping the letter from her hand. Turning it over, his eyes landing on the Sanctuary's seal. Apparently satisfied the cross gave a small nod. "Fine. I'll show this to the higher-ups. We'll have our response to whatever's in here back in the morning. You're not expected back 'til then, right? Stay at the inn or something; we'll send the reply back with you. Now give me back that key and get out."

Ninya whimpered slightly, cringing under the man's cold voice and stare. She nodded quickly and turned around, scampering out of the cellar.

As soon as she had relocked the cellar door behind her the priestess' posture slumped and she stomped the sand with a mixture of annoyance and frustration. The Church and the Assassins' Guild had been working for over twenty years to establish a peaceful relationship, and they were close than ever now. Ninya knew the importance and impact that finally having an alliance with them could be, but honestly? They creeped her out. Plus, their manners (or lack there of) wasn't something she appreciated, either.

She shivered slightly; the cold partially coming from the desert night and partially from her mental reliving of simply being in the same room with that assassin cross. Drawing her hood back up around herself, Ninya stepped back onto the path and headed east towards the Inn.

"Stupid assassin. Honestly!" The girl muttered to herself, feeling a good bit braver now that she was out of that horrid cellar and away from the assassin and his icy glare. As she turned down another just-devised 'short-cut' of hers. "Don't tell me what to do! What if I don't want to stay in Morroc over night? What if I had something else to do? I can't just sit around and play messenger all da— Oof!"

Ninya tripped over what resembled a log in the shadows, causing her to stumble forward a bit. Catching her balance, she turned, hearing a grunting noise from the so-called 'log'.

"Oh my gosh!" The girl's hands flew up to her mouth, realizing the cause of her fall was actually a man's leg. "I'm sorry! I-I didn't see you! Are you alright?" She hurried back and knelt down next to the man. Pulling her hood down, the girl cast another Ruwach around herself and the man. She shifted the hem of his cloak aside, her attention focused on the tattered leg of his pants. Really, there wasn't any harm done. No cut, no blood, not even a possible bruise. But of course, being raised to help people whenever possible Ninya had managed to overreact.

"I'm sorry!" The girl repeated, her palm glowing a faint green as she touched the man's leg, healing whatever tiny possible scratch she could have caused.

"S'notta prol'm, babe."

Ninya's head shot up as she felt the man's hand on her shoulder. "I-I'm glad… Are you all right, sir? You seem a bit, um…"

Drunk. She frowned inwardly. No wonder he was sleeping in the middle of the alley…

"'M fine now, thanks tuh you."

"Th-that's good." Ninya backed up slightly, making to stand when she felt a surprisingly strong grasp around her wrist as the man half pulled, half pushed himself up, causing the priestess' knees to buckle slightly at the sudden, unexpected force.

The man's eyes were unfocused, but he stood quite steady despite the stench of alcohol on his breath. Messy, spiked, bluish hair was matted down and quite a bit of stubble had peeked through around his chin and cheeks. Dark shadows were carved into the space under brownish, almost— golden…?— eyes. The girl momentarily wondered how long he had been in the alleyway.

Her musing, however, was quickly wiped from her mind by the man's swift movement of pinning her up against the wall. His unfocused eyes scanned over her body, his alcohol-filled breath bouncing off of her neck. The man leaned in closer as his right hand dropped lower, feeling along the priestess's back.

Ninya whimpered, her heart beat echoing in her head, serving as an alarm for her to move. She didn't though. She couldn't. She was too frightened. Here, this man—this drunken stranger— had her pinned up against the side of an alleyway in the dead of night and he was groping her—in the City of Thieves no less! Great. Just great. This was not headed in a good direction.

"Y'r a r'l sweetie, huh?" The man smirked, leaning in even closer, one hand still exploring the lower part of the girl's body, the other at her chest, keeping her pressed firmly against the stone.

Emerald eyes widened as Ninya felt a quick squeeze to her bottom and she gasped. The man laughed quietly, and took her chin in his hand, tilting her face up as he hovered over her, leaning ever closer.

"D-Don't touch me!" Ninya's voice finally managed to find itself back up to her throat as the girl shoved the drunk backwards making him bump into the opposite wall. Tears were freely flowing now and she was breathing heavily, her face flushed.

The man looked up, startled at the girl's actions. He straightened up, his hand in front of him in an awkward reaching gesture, an unreadable look on his face as he took another step towards the priestess.

"I said don't touch me!" Ninya shrieked, stepping backwards back in the direction she came. "Stay away!" She took another step backwards. Wide, frightened eyes reflected the silhouette of the man in front of them before their owner spun around and began to runfull-speed back onto the city's main pathway.

After what seemed like an eternity, Ninya slowed to a stop. Her body was shaking and tears still flowed as she sank to her knees, her arms wrapped around herself. After a few moments the priestess looked up, tear streaks staining her cheeks. Oh, God. What had just happened? She shivered, her insides twisting themselves up in a messy, painful knot. She could still feel the man's hand on her chest, his breath on her neck and face… she could still smell the alcohol that surrounded him. She had come so close, so close to—Ninya clenched her teeth, shaking her head violently. No… no… She wouldn't think bout that. After all, she was fine… A little shaken up, perhaps, but she was fine. Besides, she had her mission to finish in the morning; she still had to bring back the Assassins' Guild's reply.

Giving a small hiccup, the priestess stood up and drew her cloak back around herself, her knuckles white as she clutched the fabric. Wiping her eyes and face Ninya straightened up as best she could and squinted ahead. A faint glow ahead told her that the Morrocan Inn was close by. A shaky hand checked her robes and gave a sigh of relief. The man must have been too drunk to realize that she was carrying zeny with her.

"'Sc-scuse me… Um, I'd like t-to check in, please." Ninya leaned over the counter of the inn, looking around for someone, "Just for one person… I know it's late… Um… hello? Is- is anyone there?"

"Ah—I'm sorry, dear." An elderly woman dressed in a nightgown and slippers came out from the back, stifling a yawn with one hand and holding a very melted candle in the other. "Do you know what time it is?" She looked down at Ninya, "What are you doing checking in just now?"

"I'm sorry, Ma'am." The priestess looked up, "I um… I got held up."

The woman nodded and smiled, "I understand. But you know, you need to be careful around here—especially at night. Morroc isn't exactly the best town in Migard, you know."

Ninya felt her knees start to shake and her stomach do a flip, but she nodded none the less and forced a small smile, "Yes, ma'am. Thank you."

"Mm." She nodded, placing the candle on the desk and pulling out a note book, "Now then, miss, what's your name? What kind of room do you need?"

"N-Ninya Cruze. I only need a single bed for tonight… Do you have room?"

"Ah, yes. All right." The woman nodded, writing Ninya's name in her book along with a few more things that Ninya didn't quite see, "One second." The woman disappeared into the back again and brought out a small brass key the Morrocan Flag engraved into its face. "Your room is number 23. It's just up the stairs and to the right. There number's on the door so you won't miss it. Please return the key tomorrow when you check out! Oh, and—" The woman ducked beneath the desk and emerged with another candle. She stuck it on a holder and held it to her already lit one. It took a moment for the flame to catch on the new wick, but when it did the woman handed Ninya the candle and gave her another friendly smile and a wave. "Good night and please enjoy your stay. If you have any questions feel free to ask. Of course," she giggled, "You'll have to come and poke me awake. That might take a while."

Ninya laughed lightly and thanked the woman. Bowing slightly and taking the candle and the key she headed up the stairs to her room.