Lucivar made his way through the crowds of immigrants searching
everywhere for one brown-skinned face. His golden eyes flicked back and
forth, scanning the nervous faces, but he didn't see the person he was
looking for. Not that he was really expecting to, but he couldn't keep from
hoping every six months when he came to these service fairs.Cursing under
his breath, he glanced back down at the stack of papers in his hands. So
many names, but not the one Hayllian name he was looking for. These twice-
yearly service fairs had become a constant source of disappointment for
Lucivar, but he hid his heavy heart behind a snarl that kept everyone he
saw back a few feet.
He glanced in the direction of the Eyrien "camp." There were no names of interest on the list, and after the disaster with Crenivar, Lucivar was wary of every face he saw looking at him pleadingly. With a snarl to himself, he turned towards the exit, prepared to make the journey back to Ebon Askavi empty handed.
"I've waited for six years for this opportunity, don't think I'll let him walk out the door," a soft voice came from behind him.
Lucivar turned around and saw a woman sitting behind him uncoil from her chair. She approached him with a dark grin.
"Who are you?" he asked her, warily.
"Malayian," she told him, and with a long dark tinted fingernail she pointed without looking to the sheet he was holding.
"I'm not interested in taking anyone with me today," Lucivar told her, wondering why she wasn't with the other Eyriens. "Maybe some other year."
"Oh, but you'll want me in your court, Prince of Ebon Askavi. I can teach your women to fight, and you won't have to baby-sit me. I promise."
"And where," Lucivar asked, tired of this exchange. "Did a female Eyrien learn to fight."
"Eyrien's don't take kindly to bastard half-breeds." She tossed a lock of jet black hair over her shoulder, and her black eyes glittered. "I was abandoned and on my own for most of my life, so I learned how to survive."
"A half-breed?"
"You need more proof than is presented before you? Fine." She carefully lifted her hair back and hooked behind her delicately pointed ears. Lucivar's eyes widened.
"Dea al Mon."
"Yes, and don't bother asking why, its long and involved. But it seems that my information was unreliable this time. I was told that the Prince of Ebon Askavi was kind and generous. That he accepted the shunned and rejected as long as they did their share of the work. Your Jewel reveals you to be no other, so I must assume from your coldness that you no longer wish to help those such as myself, and I must return to Terreille."
Lucivar snarled. "Show me you can fight," he told her.
Without waiting for a cue, she stuck out. A few minutes later Lucivar had her spun around with his arm around her throat.
"You fight like an assassin," he told her casually, not letting go.
"I am an assassin," she spat out. "Or I was one, not let me go."
"Maybe I won't," Lucivar whispered in her ear seductively. "Maybe I like you in this position, under my control."
Malayian couldn't help her sharp intake of breath, or the way her body stiffened with fear.
Sighing, Lucivar released her. "Get your stuff. What you heard was true, and I'll take you. But the final decision belongs to my Queen, and whatever she says goes. If she doesn't like you, you're out, understand. You try to hurt any of the people or the Kindred under her protection, and you will be killed. Equally under her protection no one will harm you. Do you agree to this."
Malayian nodded and followed him to the line of people waiting to finish the final formalities.
"What Jewel do you wear?" Lucivar asked.
"The Sapphire," she answered.
"And before you made the Offering?"
"I haven't made the Offering to the Darkness yet." Her dark eyes watched surprise flash across his face. "I never had the chance to learn what I was supposed to do."
"Well then, that will be the first thing we take care of," Lucivar told her. "And welcome to Kaeleer."
He glanced in the direction of the Eyrien "camp." There were no names of interest on the list, and after the disaster with Crenivar, Lucivar was wary of every face he saw looking at him pleadingly. With a snarl to himself, he turned towards the exit, prepared to make the journey back to Ebon Askavi empty handed.
"I've waited for six years for this opportunity, don't think I'll let him walk out the door," a soft voice came from behind him.
Lucivar turned around and saw a woman sitting behind him uncoil from her chair. She approached him with a dark grin.
"Who are you?" he asked her, warily.
"Malayian," she told him, and with a long dark tinted fingernail she pointed without looking to the sheet he was holding.
"I'm not interested in taking anyone with me today," Lucivar told her, wondering why she wasn't with the other Eyriens. "Maybe some other year."
"Oh, but you'll want me in your court, Prince of Ebon Askavi. I can teach your women to fight, and you won't have to baby-sit me. I promise."
"And where," Lucivar asked, tired of this exchange. "Did a female Eyrien learn to fight."
"Eyrien's don't take kindly to bastard half-breeds." She tossed a lock of jet black hair over her shoulder, and her black eyes glittered. "I was abandoned and on my own for most of my life, so I learned how to survive."
"A half-breed?"
"You need more proof than is presented before you? Fine." She carefully lifted her hair back and hooked behind her delicately pointed ears. Lucivar's eyes widened.
"Dea al Mon."
"Yes, and don't bother asking why, its long and involved. But it seems that my information was unreliable this time. I was told that the Prince of Ebon Askavi was kind and generous. That he accepted the shunned and rejected as long as they did their share of the work. Your Jewel reveals you to be no other, so I must assume from your coldness that you no longer wish to help those such as myself, and I must return to Terreille."
Lucivar snarled. "Show me you can fight," he told her.
Without waiting for a cue, she stuck out. A few minutes later Lucivar had her spun around with his arm around her throat.
"You fight like an assassin," he told her casually, not letting go.
"I am an assassin," she spat out. "Or I was one, not let me go."
"Maybe I won't," Lucivar whispered in her ear seductively. "Maybe I like you in this position, under my control."
Malayian couldn't help her sharp intake of breath, or the way her body stiffened with fear.
Sighing, Lucivar released her. "Get your stuff. What you heard was true, and I'll take you. But the final decision belongs to my Queen, and whatever she says goes. If she doesn't like you, you're out, understand. You try to hurt any of the people or the Kindred under her protection, and you will be killed. Equally under her protection no one will harm you. Do you agree to this."
Malayian nodded and followed him to the line of people waiting to finish the final formalities.
"What Jewel do you wear?" Lucivar asked.
"The Sapphire," she answered.
"And before you made the Offering?"
"I haven't made the Offering to the Darkness yet." Her dark eyes watched surprise flash across his face. "I never had the chance to learn what I was supposed to do."
"Well then, that will be the first thing we take care of," Lucivar told her. "And welcome to Kaeleer."