Here's a Dark Jewels Trilogy Fic. One that I have been working on and changing for a while now. I hope you like this. It will get a little intense later on, so just bear with me. I'll try to add some comic relief too. All the characters, except Anne Bishop's, in this story are owned by me, any usage without my consent will be severely frowned upon. Please read and tell me what you think.
Chapter One
Alone. A word that almost everyone dreads at some time or another. A word that guarantees suffering. Raissa Rowancove is no different.
She has dreamed of escape for as long as she has lived. She has dreamed of running away, of finding a new and better life somewhere else, and now she has her chance, but this is not how she had dreamed it would be. For one thing, her sister isn't with her. She's held somewhere outside the city of Hayll. For another thing, Raissa's being hunted down by soldiers bent on killing her. No, this is not what she has dreamed, but if she could get away to some place where she would be safe then she could come back for her sister when everything calms down. Still, the prospect of leaving her sister alone when Raissa had promised to protect her does not sit well on her conscience, but she would be no help if she is dead.
'Everything has a price.'
She picks up her pace through the back and side streets of Draega, Haylls capital. The sound of men shouting seems more distant than before as she picks a winding route through the slums. Everywhere she looks, people dressed in nothing but rags sprawl about the streets, sit in dark corners, or beg for some monochrome of food from anyone who walks by. She throws a few coins to them and watches as they scramble to pick them up. It's better to have allies at this time than to have enemies, and who better than those who know the secrets of the city.
She smiles beneath her hooded cloak and feels the comforting weight of her knives strapped to her thighs. She would get out of this one alive, for her sister and for herself.
Raissa is close now, just a few more streets and she will make it to the Dark Alter. There she can buy her way through the gate and into Kaelere, the Shadow Realm, a realm until a few years ago, people in Terrielle had thought a myth told up by mothers who were just looking for a good bed time story. Now that the secret was out, almost everyone who didn't want to be here was scrambling for a chance to get to Kaelere and start over, and that's exactly what she wants for both her and her sister, a chance to start over. If she could get to Kaelere, she could find work and save up enough money to buy a nice place to live for her and her sister, but she has to be alive before she does anything so getting out of here is top priority right now.
Quickly, she turns the corner and skids to a stop. At the end of the small back road stands two men armed with swords and crossbows. She silently turns back around the corner and presses against the wall. 'So this was their plan.' She thinks and berates herself for being so stupid as to not recognize it before. She wasn't getting away from them, they were herding her right into a trap. Her eyes scan the gloomy alleyways for some escape, cursing fiercely all the while in her head. Her hand drops to her thigh and grasps the hilt of her dagger. If she has to fight her way out of this one, so be it, but she isn't going to die today.
A noise close by causes Raissa's head to whip around, nearly throwing off her hood, and she draws her dagger quickly out of the sheath. She spots a small figure in the shadow of an alley way and relaxes, it is a child, one of the slum children most likely by the look of his mud and filth encrusted clothes. He motions earnestly for her to come over. She shifts her gaze around and, in spotting no one else, sneaks over to the mouth of the alley, keeping to the shadows.
"Quickly, this way." The boy says and starts down the alley, pulling her along with him.
Why are you helping me? She asks on a spear thread to the boy.
"The last time you were here, you gave money to my mother. That money helped pay for food and a new pair of shoes. Why shouldn't I help you when you helped my family?" He says and looks up at her, his gold eyes kind with a touch of something that makes him look much older than he really is. A smile spreads across his face making him look like a boy again.
An answering smile dons her face. Thank you. She responds.
"Your welcome, Lady."
What is your name?
"It's Erik, lady."
And mine is Raissa. She says and watches as a kind smile spreads over his face.
He silently takes her through back alleys and roads that she has never been through, occasionally waving gaily at boys along the way, who answer with a bright smile and an enthusiastic wave.
"They've all heard of you, and most of them have gotten money from you at one time or another." He explains, and heads down a narrow alleyway in between two stone buildings. He stops about half way down and turns to her, pointing down to the other end. "There is the alter, at the end of the alley."
Thank you for everything. I won't forget what you have done for me.
"Neither will I, Lady."
Take care of yourself. Good-bye.
"Good-bye." He says, and she watches as he vanishes into the shadows.
Swiftly, she moves out of the alleyway and across the dark street to the door of the alter. Pressing herself against the wall, she peers around the corner into the alter room. Seeing that it was clear, Raissa moves soundlessly into the room. Before her stands the alter, a large, cut block of some sort of stone, she couldn't be sure in the gloom. Behind it, fastened to the wall, is a four branched candelabra that's candles seemed to be old and worn down. By the looks of things, the dark alter hasn't been in use for some time, but there still should be a priestess looking after it.
Moving through the room towards the back wall, she passes the alter and sees something that stops her in her tracks. There on the floor behind the alter lies the priestess with a crossbow bolt through her heart.
'Oh fuck. Now what the hell am I going to do?' She thinks and looks at the candelabra on the wall.
If you wish hard enough, sometimes She'll come to you. Where had she heard that before? That voice seemed familiar. It has been frequenting her dreams for some time, but strangely, it was comforting. What did it mean though? Was there a way to get to Kaelere without knowing the combination of candles? If you wish hard enough. What did that mean?
She walks over to stand in front of the four candles, just looking at them. If she wished hard enough? Could she do it? Could she get into Kaelere?
Yes, yes, she believed she could, after all, stranger things have happened.
She closes her eyes and makes a wish into the darkness, letting all that she wished for fill her mind. Her dreams, her hopes, everything. Suddenly, it is there, right inside her mind, the right combination for getting to Kaelere. Witch fire appears on her fingertip and hovers over the first candle.
'Something is wrong.' Raissa thinks and turns her head to look towards the door. She senses something, two different jewel strengths coming closer. Swearing viciously in her head, she turns back towards the candelabra. Quickly she does the sequence of candles and watches in amazement as the stone wall in front of her turns into a swirling gate of colors. Hearing the door slam open behind her, her head whips around, throwing off her hood and making her black, curled hair fall down her back. Her gold-green eyes flash in the light of the witch-fire as the two men come through the alter door, crossbows pointed at her heart. Her finger brushes the candelabra and a timing spell activates around the candles.
"Don't move, sugar, you ain't going nowheres. Your skin's the property of Dorothea SaDiablo now." One of the men says, his lips drawn up in a cruel smile.
Raissa smiles in response, flips them off, and dives through the gate into Kaelere.
Raissa tumbles through the gate, watching as it closes right after her feet. She smiles, dazed, as she stares up at the ceiling.
Kaelere. She's really in Kaelere.
A silent laugh of glee causes her face to lift and her mouth to spread in a smile. She leaps to her feet and practically jumps for glee.
'I did it! I really did it!' She thinks enthusiastically.
"I'm glad you're so happy, but do you mind telling me why you're here?" A silky, cultured voice inquires behind her causing her to spin around and draw her daggers from their sheaths.
Standing in front of her with two Eryian men flanking him, armed with crossbows pointed at her heart, is a Hayllian man dressed in a nice pair of black pants, a white silk shirt, and a black overcoat with the collar of his shirt flipped neatly over the coat collar. Hanging around his neck is a glittering black jewel. His eyes stare at her coldly and she knows this man is a Warlord Prince who would not hesitate to kill her right here.
'Fuck, fuck, and double fuck, this just isn't my day.' She curses and shifts her stance to get ready to fight.
"Hey, don't move, and drop the knives, slowly." One of the Eryians says, his voice hot with anger
'Well, mysterious voice, any more words of wisdom?' She asks to herself as she slowly drops her knives and kicks them over to them.
"Good. Now keep your hands up where I can see them."
When you anger a Warlord Prince, you either stand perfectly still or run like hell. The voice in her head states.
'Stay still or run like hell? If those are my choices, I'd rather run like hell. Oh boy, this just isn't my day, is it?' She thinks as she raises her hands. 'Foolish boys, do they really think those knives would be my only weapons? Now, how do get out of here? Ah, yes, I believe I know a way.'
Keeping her face carefully neutral, she feels the comforting weight of her knife sheaths on her wrists. Quick as a flash, she whips out her knives and sends them flying at the two Eryians, distracting the Black Jeweled man long enough for her to vault over the alter as a blast of Black-jeweled power slams into the place she just was. 'Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.' She curses as she dashes out through the back door of the Dark Alter.
Moving out into the bright light of morning, she has to squint to take her bearings. In front of her, off in the distance, is a huge black building that spans a substantial amount of land. The dark power rolling off of it and across the land causes her to shiver. To her left, is a span of trees that looks like sufficient enough cover, so she veers to her left, running full tilt towards the trees.
Out of thin air, an Eyrian comes down and knocks her off her feet. As a reflex response, she tucks in her chin and feet, pulling off a smooth somersault and lands on her feet with a single-edged sword already in her hand. Three Eyrians land around her, war blades drawn, ready for a fight.
"Give up, girl, and we won't hurt you." One says, a slight snarl in his voice.
In response, Raissa moves into her stance, putting her sword parallel to the ground so it reflects the man behind her. Swiftly, they move in for an attack. Swinging fluidly left and right, she blocks all their attempt to get a wound on her.
One of the men moves in for an attack of his own, and her sword collides with his. His weight bares down on her, making her legs bend and pushing her closer to the ground. Knowing she couldn't match him in strength, she rams her knee into his groin. His knees buckle under him and he drops his sword in shock. Her arm comes back and her grip shifts as she knocks him over the head with her hilt, knocking him out.
Turning on the ball of her feet, she faces the other two Eyrians as they charge her, thoroughly angered now. In one fluid motion, she deflects one of their swords to the side and spins, drawing her foot back and sending it into the middle of his shoulder blades, knocking him to the ground and the wind out of him. The other man comes at her now. Raissa runs at him, ducks under his sword, getting in close, and sends her fist right into his stomach, resulting in him doubling over in pain.
Now that those three were taken care of, she dashes off towards the forest again, sword in hand, just in case. Suddenly, ropes of Ebon-Grey energy wrap around her wrists and ankles, bringing her up short. Before she lands on her face, she puts her hands out in front of her and rolls into a somersault again, vanishing her sword before she accidentally impales herself. She tries to roll up onto her feet, but since they were bound together, she couldn't get her balance and she fell back onto her ass.
'Shitshitshitshitshit. Now what the hell am I going to do?' She thinks fiercely. 'Okay, mysterious voice, now would be a good time to pop in with some life-saving information.' No voice pops into her head in those strenuous seconds where she struggled, tied, on the ground. She could almost hear a little imaginary cricket going off in her head and it was getting pretty annoying. 'I swear to the Darkness, if you keep chirping I'll send a flock of imaginary birds down on your ass.' She threatens and hears the imaginary chirping stop abruptly.
She feels herself reaching for that reservoir of power below the surface of the Black, and ancient kind of power that really has no explanation. She makes herself draw back from it. 'No, not yet. That's my last resort. I'm not done yet.'
Before she could get her feet back under her, a strong hand grabs her under her arm and drags her up onto her feet and almost off the ground. She turns her head to look behind her and sees an Eyrian man, his black hair longer than most, touching his shoulders, and his gold eyes hot with anger, and maybe even a little amusement. Around his neck hangs an Ebon-Grey jewel that glows faintly in the sun.
She bares her teeth in a silent snarl at him and watches as he snarls right back at her.
"Okay, this is how it's going to be, so listen and listen hard. You are not going to cause any more trouble and come peacefully, or I'm going to have to knock you out and drag you back to the Hall over my shoulder. Now, what's it going to be?" The Eyrian says, authority ringing in his voice.
'If he thinks I'm going without a fight, then he seriously has some brain problems.' Raissa assumes, sending a searing glare his way. 'Oh no, I'm not coming that easily.'
Still supported by his hand, she jumps up, bringing her feet up so they are near his stomach and kicks out with them before he has a chance to move. As her feet touch the ground, she spins and wraps her arms around the man's neck when he falls to his knees, gasping for air. A knife simultaneously appears in her hand and presses against his neck.
"Don't move." She whispers into his ear, just loud enough for him to hear. Looking around her, she sees a bunch more warriors, all armed with some weapon that looks like it will hurt very badly, and all the Warlord Princes are nearly on the killing edge. This is not good. "Now,this is how it's going to be so listen and listen hard. Your going to tell your friends to drop their weapons and move away from them, then we're going to leave and no body is going to do anything, or I'm going to slit your throat right here right now." She threatens, and just for emphasis, presses the knife closer to his throat.
The Eyrian finally catches his breath enough for him to move and talk. Ever so slowly, he starts to descend down to the level of the Ebon-Grey. When he passes the level of the Green, she feels him descend.
"Oh no you don't. Don't you dare go any where near your jewels or I'll kill you right here." She whispers into his ear and presses the knife closer to his throat, drawing a little bit of blood.
"Okay, okay. I won't touch them." He complies and draws himself away from his jewels.
"Good. Now, your going to tell your friends what I told you. Then, your going to take these bonds off and we're going to walk out of here without any trouble."
As he tells the others what she told him, she lets her eyes scan the crowd. Most of the people surrounding them are Eyrians, but she could also see traces of Hayllian, Dhemlan, and other races that must have been purely from Kaelere. Most of them stared at her with cold anger, worry, or just plain hate. Hate she could deal with, but the cold fury rolling off the Black-jeweled Warlord Prince made her uneasy. Just looking at him made a chill run through her body. He is certainly someone to look out for.
After he relayed her demands, she watches as the people around them slowly put their weapons on the ground in front of them and kick them away from themselves. The bonds around her wrists and ankles dissolve and she shifts her feet under her to stand up. Slowly, Raissa pulls the Eyrian up with her, keeping him between her and the others, and backs away from them.
Before she could react, he was there, face-to-face with her, his arms around her waist. His wings snap open and in a few strong beats of his wings, they were in the air. The ground seemed to wrench out from under her, her dagger flying out of her hand, and the whole world seemed to spin before her eyes. In response, she clutched on to the first available thing which just so happened to be his shirt. Her hands grasp onto the collar and her legs wrap around his waist, feet locking together at the ankles.
'Don't look down, don't look down.' She thinks desperately, squeezing her eyes shut tight. Absolute terror explodes in her chest as she feels nothing but air all around her and loses all contact with the earth, not to mention the Eyrian chose that precise moment to do a spin in mid-air and a nose dive right towards the ground. If she could scream she would have. All her muscles freeze up and her grasp of his shirt and waist becomes like stone.
He comes to rest on the ground, back winging before he sets down. Raissa's muscles still stay paralyzed in place, even after she was sure she was on the ground. Her whole body starts to shake as the man tries to pry her legs from around his waist.
"You can let go now." The man says, his voice just a little more gentle than before, which isn't much.
As much as she wanted to not look foolish in front of all these people, she just couldn't get her mind out of the panicked haze it was in and get her body under control.
The man carefully sets her on the ground, and she feels her legs pull up towards her chest and her arms wrap around her knees involuntarily, her body still shaking.
"What the hell did you do to her?" A woman asks, and she feels a hand being laid on her shoulder.
"I just took her a for a little flight." He protests.
"A little flight?! You did a spin and a nose dive, Lucivar. Look at her, she's shaking!" She chastises.
"Do you know this woman?" A cultured voice asks that sends a new convulsion of the shakes through her system. From her guess, it would have to be the Black-Jeweled Warlord Prince from before.
"She kidnapped me! Look at this, look at this!" The Ebon-Grey man exclaims, possibly pointing at the small cut on his neck.
"What that small thing? That's barely a cut. Stop whining, Warlord Princes do not whine."
"Jaenelle, answer my question." The Black-Jeweled man says in a stern way. Poor guy, perhaps in a few minutes he'd realize that no one was paying attention to him, but until then they'd keep ignoring him.
"Whining?! I'm not whining! I'm just saying that any closer would have slit my throat!"
"Oh, stop being a baby. You're giving a bad name to Eyrians everywhere."
"EXCUSE ME!" The older man shouted, drowning out all arguments around him, thoroughly blowing out her eardrums, and catapulting her mind back into some sane state.
Slowly her eyes focus on a large brown boot that was right in front of her and presumably belonged to the Eyrian man from before. Quickly, she struggled to put her fear-jumbled thoughts together. As Raissa comes out of her panic-fueled haze, her teeth jarring shakes slowly calmed to a standstill and her taut muscles slowly relax, leaving her with very soar muscles.
Apparently, her reemergence back into the real world did not go unnoticed, and she felt the hand on her shoulder tighten. Her sight of the large brown boot became obstructed when a vaguely familiar face of a young woman came into her line of sight.
"Raissa, Raissa, can you hear me? Try and focus on my face." The woman says, trying to catch her gaze in her brilliant sapphire eyes that were made almost like silk from the softness of them, but also a touch of worry glazed over her eyes making her want to reach out and console her. Right then and there, she knew who this woman was, she was Jaenelle Angelline, Witch, and the small girl she had met in the slums one day on purely a happenstance.
Desperately she tried to think of something to say, anything that would take the worry out of her eyes. The only thing she could think of to say was, I wouldn't have killed him. She said this on a spear thread, directly to Jaenelle, hoping to console her somehow.
Her lips turn up in a smile, a touch of amusement showing in her eyes. "I know." She says, consolingly, "Don't worry about him, though, he can take care of himself."
Raissa's lips twitch up in a half smile as she recalls the somewhat heated argument between her friend in front of her and the Eyrian man. At the thought of it, she shift her eyes up to the other two men standing behind Jaenelle. They both looked rather peeved over something, of what she had no inkling of. The Black-Jeweled man is probably still annoyed at them both for ignoring him, but she had no sympathy for him, after all, he blew out her ear drums with all his damn yelling. The Eyrian? Well, he is just Eyrian, it is in his nature to look like he has a stick up his ass.
"Did I miss something or were you just talking to yourself?" He questions, lifting up an eyebrow at her, his stick-up-his-ass face lessening in ferocity.
"Yes, she said she wouldn't have killed you, so you don't have to worry your delicate little self over a thing." Jaenelle replies, a sweet, but mocking, smile spreading over her face.
"You never know, she could have been desperate enough to do it."
Do I look like a complete idiot? Raissa pipes up with a snort, indignation coating her voice, on a general thread that included just the three people in front of her.
She never quite new how she did what she did when she wanted to talk mind-to-mind. It was like she expanded her mind out in a circle around her to encompass anyone she wanted to talk to, gently tugging their minds to her. It always seemed a lot different than what she had been taught in craft lessons, but then again she was from the slums, not many people knew a lot about these things. Plus, when your mute, you have to kind of shuffle everything you ever learned that involved your voice into one corner and make up something completely new to suit your new problem. One of the other pressing problems when talking mind to mind was also the concept of shields. When a person admits some else into the surface of their mind, that person kind of gets worried about keeping their secrets a secret, so she had built up strong shields that enhanced those around her mind and kept everyone else's prying noses out of it.
After a few seconds in which the two Warlord Princes had an moment to collect themselves after hearing her voice pipe up in their heads without admittance, the Eyrian stared at her strangely.
"What do you mean?" He asks, bemused, confused, and all around befuddled.
What I mean is that considering there were more than a considerable amount of people surrounding me that had a darker jewel than myself and would be all the more provoked to unleash said jewel strength at me if I had killed you, it would be completely idiotic of me to take that chance. Besides, I don't like killing people if I don't have to. If you look, you will find your friends who attacked me are perfectly fine and the Eyrians from the gate only have minor scratches if they weren't stupid enough to move when I threw those daggers. She retorts, staring defiantly at the man in front of her.
"I don't think they would have killed you, Raissa." Jaenelle says.
"Of course we would have, Cat. If she had caused us enough trouble and if we thought she was risk to anyone here, we would have killed her." The Eyrian bluntly said with a snort of his own.
Oh, well, that's comforting. Raissa says sarcastically.
Suddenly, a fit of coughing comes upon her, wracking her chest and throat. Her hands come up to cover her mouth as her body curves in on itself. The fit lasts for not more than a minute, but, during that time, her mind becomes panicked as her hand comes away speckled with blood. Her lungs gasp for air, burning from her cough, as does her throat. Jaenelle, still beside her, puts both hands on her shoulder, saying something to her, what she doesn't know, probably asking if she was alright. One of her hands moves then and gently covers her throat, a cool feeling, that of her healing craft, spreads throughout her throat and down her chest, but it was no use now because the world just went black as she drifted off into a state of unconsciousness.