It is in heart of society that there lurks an evil unsuppressed by all the intentions of saints together. The greatest crimes of the world are committed through word and intent, unsurpassed by all the actions of demons at once. Perhaps this is why humanity was doomed to suffer eternally. Perhaps the void of darkness that dwells within the heart of man is Satan himself. I suppose we shall never know, but the thought lingers still.

It was then that she saw what Shianni had been looking at- Lord Vaughan, as well as his men, were coming their way. One of his men unsheathed his sword as they came closer. The nasty, cruel, grin of a rat formed upon the noble's lips. His intentions, although unknown, were clearly not of good merit.

"Excuse me for interfering," he said with rotten drag in tone, "I hate to spoil a good celebration, but I have my own to attend to. If you would be so kind," he continued, "I should like some of the ladies to attend. If not-" The rest of his men drew their swords, "well, I doubt that's going to happen." The laugh that followed was enough to make the vilest of sewer creatures writhe in disgust. It was sickening in every fashion of evil.

Faces of friends and family glanced back at one another, searching for somebody, anybody, to explain what was going on. Ornatia looked up at her fiancé, hoping for recognition that the day's events had simply been a dream- that there would be no wedding, that the current events unfolding before them were indeed subject of the imagination. Instead, she looked into the face of a man who appeared to be just as shocked as she. Nelaros released her shaking hand as she searched for Soris.

The horror that followed happened in a blaze, too fast for Ornatia or anyone else to remember with clarity. No one dared to come any closer to the commotion than they had before; mothers pulled their small children from the streets, swiftly closing and locking the doors behind them. Only Shianni spoke up, as was her reckless and brave nature.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded. "Leave! Can't you see that we're having a wedding?"

Lord Vaughan took several steps closer, until he was face to face with her. Shianni swore she could feel his breath on her as he lowered himself to her eyelevel. His dark eyes showed no emotion whatsoever, she noted mentally. Trying to create a gap between them, she stepped back. To her utter distress, he took a step forward.

"Well, well, well," he began in an eerily threatening tone, "Aren't you feisty." He leaned in closer yet, so his head was beside her's, and his mouth was at her ear. "How fun," he whispered.

"You creep!" she screamed frantically, "Get away!" she slapped him, full force, across the cheek. Remarkably, her nails scratched him rather deeply, drawing blood.

"Oh, you'll regret the day you were born…" he gasped, shoving her to the ground. "Take her, for starters," he instructed the men behind him.

"Shianni!" Ornatia screamed, "Don't touch her!" Desperately she turned to Soris, "Do something!"

Vaughan's attention was caught by Ornatia's pleas for help. "Be careful with the pretty one. Bruises would be such a shame." Nelaros reached out, only to be intercepted by one of Lord Vaughan's men's blades. He and Soris could only watch the Chaos, helplessly, as both their brides were taken away. Valora tried to scream, but only a squeaked burst of air shot out. Neither she nor any of the other women being taken understood what was happening, let alone contemplate what the future held in mind. Ornatia held on to her sanity with the last of her conscious effort, remaining calm as she was shoved away from friends and family. Only her eyes reflected the true panic within.

"You are a pretty one, miss," laughed the guard who now had a death drip on her arm, making a small tear on the fragile cloth of her dress, seemingly finding it hysterically ironic to call an elven woman 'miss.' "I wonder if you're as fiery as the red head?"

Something in Ornatia snapped. Her plans to remain calm and talk her way out of the horror crumbled and turn to ash beneath her flaming rage. She was, indeed, as fiery as the 'red head.'

"Let go!" she shouted with all her might, managing to momentarily shake off the armoured guard. Backing up and lowering herself into a defensive posture, one leg, bent, before the other, she picked up a rock, holding it above her head threateningly and in a rather ferocious and barbaric manner.

Clearly not taking the threat for what it was, the guard once again laughed, stepping up as if to take the stone from her hand. She chucked it forcefully at his face, knocking him to the ground. How unfortunate for the lad, being that he had not been wearing a helmet. He moaned as he attempted to lift himself out of the dirt, holding his forehead in hand. Blood poured intently from the gash the large stone had left behind. She turned to flee, readying herself to sprint. To her dismay, however, another guard was coming her way. She expected the worst as he drew is sword, now only four or five feet away.

"You little bi-"

Then darkness.

Her eyelids fluttered open, wondering, once again, had it all been a dream? As the realization of where she was hit her, she wished only for the sweet, lukewarm darkness of nothing. Death, no. Sleep, no, it was too late. Simply nothing- nothing for her, or her friends around her.

"Ornatia? Are you okay? You're awake!" Valora spoke with a certain blatant optimism that Ornatia had not expected.

"Obviously, I am. What's going on? Where are we?" Even under the current circumstances, Ornatia refused to let go of her usual, cynical attitude towards anyone other than Soris.

"They, they…" Valora stammered, "took some of us, they took me and you-"

'I know that much,' Ornatia mutter inaudibly under her breath.

"and Shianni, and a couple other girls! Oh, it's terrible! Someone knocked you with the blunt of his sword, and they dragged you here. Shianni, she was screaming the whole time! Oh, Shianni…"

Ornatia took the chance to look around the room. I was large, the ceiling high with walls made of great stone. Several pieces of embroidered tapestry and many paintings hung from the wall. There was no bed, or desk. Just many seats and side tables, arranged around a monstrous, unlit fireplace. Two other girls, both elves, sat in the room, huddled quietly by themselves, one shedding silent tears. They were obviously traumatized, by what, Ornatia could only guess. As one should expect, she assumed the worst. Shianni was nowhere to be seen. "Where is she?" asked the Ornatia, her grey eyes scanning the room. She spoke in a low voice that echoed throughout the cavernous room. The room, however decorated and adorned, sickened her.

Valora bent her head, hiding the despaired face she wore. "They took her," she muttered.

Before Ornatia had the chance to respond, a heavy door on the side of the room opened. She looked up, with a hopeful essence of eye, before mentally scolding herself for thinking that some gallant knight would arrive, gliding through the doorframe, bringing Shianni to safety. No, that was as foolish thought. No knight would give a second though to the well-being of elves. By some cruel manner of destiny, only those souls born in to princess-hood were given that noble birthright. Instead, yet another guard paced in, heavy metal boot-guards clinging ominously against the stone floor. The two elves huddled in the corner lowered their head, not out of any form of respect, but in the hopes of not being noticed. Lucky for them, they weren't. Instead, Lord Vaughan's guard briskly came towards Valora and Ornatia. Ornatia observed how eerie it was to hear a voice from beneath the man's helmet, yet see no signs of his lips moving.

"Get up," he ordered sternly, showing no such signs of humor, however sick, as the previous guard. "Lord Vaughan was hoping you'd be awake by now."

He grabbed her by the collar of her dress, which was already heavily worn and dirty (she imagined this was due to her fall after she had apparently been knocked out), and dragged her to her feet before shoving her towards the door. Ornatia, now, learned to watch her tongue and movements. Unlike the man who had grabbed her by the arm originally, she seriously doubted that this guard could be evaded. Once again, she attempted to remain calm. "I highly recommend," the guard warned, "that you not try anything with Lord Vaughan. It won't help you any, and he'll just have fun 'reprimanding' you for it. Do as he says, and maybe you won't end up like that other girl… the loud one."

Ornatia was pushed through several hallways and corridors before they stopped before a massive door that made even the towering guard beside her appear diminutive. "Remember what I told you," he stated, shortly thereafter pushing the door open and shoving her inside, closing it behind her.

"Shianni!" she shouted, seeing her friend lying in the middle of the floor. "What did they do to you?!"

Shianni's already ragged dress had been torn in several places, and a small amount of blood could be seen on the skirt. Her eyes appeared strained and red; it was obvious that she had been crying. Shianni looked up into Ornatia's eyes, and without words, confided in her cousin what had happened. Ornatia understood immediately, breaking eye contact only to embrace the girl who had been violated in the worst possible way. "It's going to be okay," she promised, "don't worry."

"Ah!" came a voice beyond the opening door opposite to them. "I see the sleeping beauty has awoken." Shianni winced, and Ornatia recognized the voice at once- Vaughan. She truly felt like gouging his eyes, and ripping out that nasty tongue. The fact that three guards stood at his sides and behind quickly waved away any such plans. Revenge, though, is usually a much more passionate and impulsive thing, but the guard who had brought her to the room was right; it wouldn't help anything to act in a careless manner. She quickly rose to her feet, standing between Lord Vaughan's men and Shianni. "Now, now…" came the rat-man's voice, taking note of Ornatia's posture, "no need to be so defensive. I was hoping you'd be ready by now." His voice was deceptive, and she again wished nothing but to rip out his tongue.

"What do you want?" Ornatia asked in a low, threatening voice.

"What do you think?" he laughed, "just ask her," motioning towards Shianni.

"You son-of-a-"

"Mind your tongue!" the man to his right shouted, "Lest you lose it!" Lord Vaughan laughed at the notion, holding his stomach as if getting a joke.

"Now, doesn't that sound like fun?" he mocked. "Oh, don't look so tempered," he said, stepping closer and pinching her cheeks. Shall we cut the dialogue short? My mother always told me not to play with… dessert." He made her sick.

As if by cue, two of the guards took Ornatia by each arm, moving her out of the room and into yet another hallway. "Ornatia!" screamed Shianni, once again in tears.

"Don't worry!" Her cousin, just as frantic, repeated. Lord Vaughan chuckled at the commotion, leading the way through multiple room and hallways. At last, they arrived at what was her 'destination,' of sorts. Guiding her into the room (pushing, really), Lord Vaughan stood before a chest of drawers, pulling out garment from one of its compartments.

"Put this on," he instructed with a demented grin. "I think it will suit you just fine," shoving it into her hands before leaving the room, locking the door behind him. "I'll be back," he called, as if trying to sound charming, which made it all the worse.

Once alone, Ornatia held up what had been given to her. Funny, she thought, I thought that you weren't supposed to be able to see through clothes. It was a long nightgown, really, with a drawstring holding together the bodice. It was ever so slightly transparent. Translucent, if you wish. I swear to the Maker, I'll die before I put this thing on. She grinned to herself, for all I know, he's a necrophile- the sick bastard. She rummaged through the drawers of the dresser, looking for something to use as a weapon. Nothing. She looked under the bed. Nothing. The vanity. Nothing. The desk- and ornate letter opener, which would have to do.

The footsteps coming towards the door gave her little time in advance to think, so she quickly hid beneath the large canopy bed. It was abundantly obvious where she hid, she knew, seeing as there was literally not a single other place to avoid the eye. She wasn't working with unlimited and fruitful resources, but it was better than nothing. It would buy her a few seconds. Swiftly, she tucked it into her boots.

The door creaked open, and she heard his footsteps walk in. Five, she counted. Four. Three. Two. One…