Daughter had not been expecting this day to change his entire life. The morning had certainly offered no such hints- he had just woken up, like usual, gotten dressed, like usual, and headed off to work as indifferently as usual. Nevertheless, by mid-afternoon, he found himself running at full tilt away from a platoon of soldiers, through the dense forest that surrounded the city he had lived his entire life in, someone else's blood splattered all over his clothes.

True, he knew exactly how this had come to be, but it was still a bit boggling. Not that he had any time to stop and consider it-he was far too occupied with his race through the woods. The lush overgrowth made it tricky to get around, but fortunately it made things even more difficult for the soldiers and their horses. And the scent of dirt and plants would- with any luck- help mask the smell of blood that currently hung over him. Evening out the playing field was the whole reason he had charged into this place at all.

But he was still beginning to slow; though he was far from out of shape, he hadn't exactly trained for this kind of pace. His heart felt like it was going to burst if he kept it up much longer. It was only the pounding of hooves behind him that made him press onward.

Suddenly, he forced himself to stop short just before the ground ahead of him fell away, dropping sharply into a steep slope that was nearly a cliff. It was difficult to tell how far down it went- there was an overhanging ledge that cast most of what was below in shadows. He could probably jump the gap without too much trouble, but so could the soldiers. And from the sound of it, it wouldn't be too much longer until they overtook him. He looked again at the gap, glanced over his shoulder, and made his way down the slope.

The ground was loose and treacherous, but Daughter didn't have the luxury of caution. He half-slid, half-ran down the steep plane, unable and unwilling to slow himself, even as the dirt underneath him crumbled and gave way. He lurched forward, instinctively covering his head with his arms and rolling down the rough slope, grunting as at the barrage of stones and sticks and undergrowth against his back and arms. Like this, it was impossible to see anything ahead of him or even how far down he had gotten, so he had no choice but to leave it up to chance and hope he wasn't about to crack his head against a rock.

In what seemed to be his first lucky break of the day, the slope finally evened out without much incident. Once he slowed enough to stop, Daughter picked himself up, moving some of his blonde hair out of his eyes and took in his surroundings. He was obviously in some kind of cave, which wasn't that unusual. What was, though, was that he had no idea how he had even gotten in here in the first place. After a bit of feeling around, he realized that the entrance was shrouded by vines. They covered it completely, albeit a bit messed up from where he had presumably plowed through. It all seemed so deliberate; he couldn't help but stare suspiciously at the opening.

Then he heard from above the sound of pounding hooves and decided he couldn't afford to sit around and ponder the shrubbery. He fixed up the slight dislocation to cover his tracks, and made his way further into the cave, trying to be as quiet about it as possible. It wasn't hard- the whole thing seemed oddly clean and well-traveled for something that was hidden.

Must be some rich noble's secret hideaway, he thought with distaste, those assumptions reinforced as it became increasingly obvious he was in a tunnel, not a cave at all. A wave of trepidation came over him as he reached the other end; what he saw seemed like it could be a painting. There was a single gray tower, surrounded by a grassy meadow set against a picturesque waterfall. It looked every bit like a place for a wealthy husband to take his mistresses… well, except the tower. That looked pretty inconvenient- it was maybe seventy feet high, and not that wide around. But hey, maybe the guy had a fetish for heights.

But, he sighed and rubbed the back of his head, as much as the possibility of bursting in on any 'throes of passion' turns my stomach, I don't have much choice. It was a far safer option than turning back. He approached the tower, and was pleased to see that the bricks were uneven enough that he could climb them easily. Which was great, because he couldn't seem to find a door anywhere- just a window maybe sixty feet above the ground. Again, the feeling that something just wasn't right with this place stirred in his gut, but he tried to ignore it. After all, anyone eccentric enough to build a tower in the middle of a forest was probably either weird or paranoid enough to have some secret entrance that would be more trouble than it was worth to actually find. He rolled his eyes at the thought, grabbed onto the rough stone, and started to climb.

After all that running, to say scaling a tower with his bare hands was difficult would be an understatement, but he manage to summon the strength he needed. It took all his concentration- there was no room in his head for fear or vertigo or worry about what he'd find at the top. When he finally reached the window he had seen from the ground, he practically collapsed inside, rolling wearily over onto his back. It took him a few minutes to catch his breath, in in that time he was too exhausted to even open his eyes.

With one last deep, shuddering breath, he opened his eyes to stare up at the ceiling, only to find a young man standing over him, staring down at him with concern in his light gray eyes. That wasn't so surprising- he had half-expected to run into someone up here. What was a surprise, though, was the man's hair. The red-brown locks trailed far past his shoulders, past his waist, along the floor, and even up the stairs at the far end of the room.

"Excuse me." The young man said, kneeling down next to Daughter's prone form, causing his eyes to snap back up to the stranger's face. "Are you alright?"