A/N: Standard Disclaimer applies.

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A Corite, with skin so pale to the point of translucence, stood statue-like in the middle of the stairs. Blank and dull, her amethyst eyes stared past them and through the rain-streaked window offsetting the couple. A curtain of blue-streaked ebony hair framed her expressionless face. She was clad in a mellow-colored dress that covered every inch of her body, crisscrossing in odd places and adorning jewels to contest the monotony.

"Rakisha…," Alleza heard Northenio whisper, an odd and uncharacteristic gentleness in his voice.

Rakisha did not respond. She acted as if she had not heard. She did not even flinch.

"How've you been, little one?" Northenio asked.

She kept her silence. Minutes passed and the rain fell harder, still she would not honor them with a response. Northenio, however, seemed expectant of an answer. Or rather, half-expecting.

"Northenio…," Alleza cut in. "Don't bother. She won't answer---."

"Silence," he cut in firmly. Stunned and feeling like though he slapped her, Alleza stared at him with a hurt and confused expression.

A low rumbling laughter filled the air. "Northenio… Northenio," came a half-amused, half-reprimanding voice. "You shouldn't be talking to your lover like that."

Atop the stairs somewhere behind Rakisha, the butt of a lighted cigar floated in the eerie darkness. It marked the presence of a man; assumingly, held by the one who addressed Northenio. Lazily, the man's silhouette walked towards them in order for the crystalline chandelier dangling above to define his features. Roguishly in attire and stance, he greeted Northenio smilingly.

"Why was Rakisha without a companion?" inquired Northenio, a hint of anger lining his voice.

"I was with her all the while," Craft replied straight-faced, unflinching at the edge in Northenio's words. He was one of the few people who did not cower in Northenio's presence.

"Like hell you were."

Craft laughed. "Ok, I wasn't. Do I get a beating for this?" he inquired jokingly.

"If it was anyone else, he wouldn't be able to tell day from night within a sennight after I was done with him," the green jade-eyed Templar replied fiercely.

Craft chuckled heartily at the statement. "Glad I am not anybody else."

"Count it as a blessing."

"I will," he replied, winking at Northenio, as he took hold of Rakisha's arm and gently tugged her, commanding the silent lady to follow him. "Come. We shall return to the drawing room."

For a moment, Rakisha refused to be moved. Ever so slightly, she parted her lips as if she was about to speak. Surprised, the three of them stared at her in anticipation. But minutes passed by and she spoke nothing.

"Rakisha?" Northenio implored.

"Welcome home…," she finally spoke in a soft raspy voice.

Predictably, they were astounded. Ever since they had come to stay at the Camino and before that for that matter, Rakisha had refused or had lost the ability to speak and was usually unresponsive to things happening around her.

"Thank you," answered Northenio, his face masked with an indiscernible expression.

Silence consumed them and they were thoughtful. Suddenly, a loud gasp broke through the still air. A loud thud and a fearful shout followed.

Alleza had collapsed.

…

UNFORGIVEN


An Omen, Unrest

Ding…

The rain outside was in its strongest outpour yet. Eerie howls, louder than a nearby Assassin Builder's cry, penetrated the thick marble and concrete walls of Camino as the hurricane came blowing past.

Ding.

A scramble of feet could be heard on the tiled floors of the castle's great arched hallways. Some of the footsteps were hurried like when one is catching the Cartellan Ship for Ether. Some were unhurried, almost lazy, as though they were really uninterested in reaching their destination.

A sigh. A chuckle. Clanks of metal and steel.

Ding.

"What business is it?"

"I do not know, my friend."

"Is there an upcoming battle?"

"Perhaps.."

"I don't think so."

Footsteps. They halt.

"Should we go?"

"I'm not really interested…"

Ding.

A throaty chuckle. "This is rather.. interesting, don't you think?"

"I can feel it too."

Agitated whispers.

"Why are the ELITE being gathered?"

"Something is wrong."

"Must be."

"Something is definitely wrong."