AN: A warning for implied gore and nastiness later on in the chapter, when it switches to our antagonist.

Previously

Ignoring the soft cry of pain and the startled "Wait!" that followed him he leapt straight out the window, shooting down the tree and hitting the ground running. Unfortunately he did so right in front of a trio of guards, who quickly gave chase once they realised where he had just exited.

Thoughts in a whirl, he didn't think to use his power to speed up his escape, just wanting to get away from the hospital and that girl. He just ran, fear biting at his heels at the thought of a Marshal having found out what he was, and what she could do if he were caught.

ooooooooooooooooo

Racing through the side streets with a growing contingent of guards hot on his heels, Rush cursed at the amount of people out at this time of night. Just a few streets away from the hospital there had been much more people on the streets. Even worse they were all seemingly determined to get in his way, forcing him to dodge between them and losing precious time and speed as he did.

Only now did he think about using his power to get away, but if he used any Remnant ability to make escape easier he risked hurting them. Valeria Heart, as docile as it had seemed so far, probably wouldn't let him escape unpunished if his actions did cause hurt.

Hoping to lose his pursuers in the narrow twisting alleys, he took a sharp turn and dived between the two nearest buildings, running pell-mell through the maze of passages. The alleys were nearly pitch black, the sun having vanished some time ago.

The only light was from the occasional bracketed torch placed at the intersections between some passages. The shadows they caused however only seemed to enhance the almost nightmarish quality of Rush's situation.

Even with his sharper eyesight he had difficulty avoiding the boxes, barrels and uneven cobblestones that had the mitra guards tripping and stumbling. Some of the qsiti even managed to gain on the boy, their smaller size allowing them to move faster than their larger counterparts.

Rounding one corner after the other Rush finally hit an obstacle the guards couldn't cross, a towering pile of heavy crates nearly ten feet tall. It was too precariously balanced to climb, and the crates too heavy to push over without the danger of injuring people, even with a yama's considerable strength.

With the ease of practice the boy tensed his legs, crouched and leapt at the wall beside the crates, feet barely touching the surface before he pushed off, rebounding up and over the pile. The guards hot on his heels were left cursing at his display, with no choice but to backtrack and hope to catch him at another point. Luckily for them it was actually quite likely due to their prior knowledge of the city.

With no idea where he was going or if he had even lost the guards, Rush kept running, doubling back occasionally when he hit dead ends. After what seemed an age, he burst out onto the main street just south of the plaza square.

From here he could just high-tail it to the gates and be out before anyone was the wiser… or that would have been the plan had he not barrelled into a veritable wall of people.

Skidding to a stop he gazed around in confusion, for what looked to be the entire population of Athlum was lining the street, talking, laughing and cheering for some reason Rush was not aware of. Scanning the sea of people he began to force his way through, too busy searching nervously for any sign of those guards to even notice when he trod on unprotected qsiti toes and yama tails.

The somewhat scattered cheering suddenly became a roar of enthused voices that rippled through the crowd like a wave, making him flinch in reaction as he was hemmed in on all sides. The tightly packed bodies pressed against him, emotion and sound battering his already fraying nerves.

He still couldn't see what was happening to warrant this display, and right now he really couldn't care as he spotted three guards shift into sight a few metres away in the crowd. Nervousness turning to panic in the near deafening crush of people, he fought against the instinct to just throw them all away with a pulse of power, but he dearly needed a clear space so he could move!

Not thinking beyond getting out of the crowd he started to fight his way towards the clear space in the middle of the road, pushing past people without much care as to the force he used.

Hearing the sharp whistle of a guard behind him send him bolting into the crush, knocking people aside as his panic grew in leaps and bounds. It wasn't meant to be like this! There were too many people, too much noise and too many feelings pounding at him from all sides for him to think straight.

Seriously panicking and nearly hyperventilating due to the overload of sensations, he didn't see the qsiti child he tripped over as he burst free from the crowd. Staggering, he fell headlong into another person's chest, knocking the wind out of them and sending them both to the ground.

Barely noticing the warm mitra body under him, he tried to get to his feet, but tangled his legs with the person he'd knocked over and went down again, the feel of a thick silk coat and soft cotton arm warmers barely registering.

Looking up he caught the other's eye and froze, just for a moment, before a guard's cry rang above the excited noise of the crowd.

"Stop that boy, don't let him get away! He broke into the private ward of the hospital!"

The weary but curious blue-grey gaze that held Rush's own hardened at this, and before the boy knew what was happening he was being pulled to his feet, his arms locked behind his back and an arm pressed against his throat by the man he had knocked down.

Too frantic by the thought of being caught and caged to consider what he did next, the young Remnant twisted his head and bit down, hard, on the hand nearest his face. During the chase his body, primed by instinct and adrenaline, had also been releasing larger than usual amounts of a special and very potent chemical into his saliva. This now entered the wounds he made in the other's skin. The strength of desperation let him tear straight through thin cotton and into soft skin, the taste of blood a sharp splash of copper on his tongue.

The bite didn't last long, but the sheer unexpectedness of the move caused the man to pull back, allowing Rush to wrench free. He didn't make it more than a few metres however before Valeria Heart reacted, a silent ripple of force sending him to his knees as it wrapped around him like a heavy shroud, blocking his power and paralysing his limbs. Like a puppet whose strings had been cut, he collapsed limply to the ground.

Unable to move, unable to even open his eyes, he could only lie there and listen to the awed crowd as they saw the gargantuan Remnant pulse brightly above their heads like a beacon. He heard the guards push through the crush of people, some heading in his direction. Other loud voices were shouting for the confused spectators to keep back, to not crowd his Lordship and the Generals (now Rush was even more confused, weren't they out killing beastmen?).

Fighting back pure unadulterated panic, he felt thickly muscled arms lift him up, the arms of a yama, while a hushed explanation was given to what sounded like a superior officer.

Listening to the crowd, he picked up snippets of conversations, and began to piece together what was going on, and it wasn't good news for him. Apparently he'd run right into the middle of the people welcoming the army back from it's campaign, which also meant the Lord of the city and his other three generals.

While he had been dosing on the relative seclusion of that rooftop, messengers had arrived in the city and spread the news that the army would be returning tonight. Hence the crowded streets. What was worse, the man he'd bowled over had been Lord Nassau himself! Rush really didn't see how this could get worse…

oooooooooooooo

Coming home to see his beloved city and hear his people's gladdened cries after months of nothing but sleepless nights, bloody battlefields and death, it was like a balm on his soul. Weary, battered, bloody he may be, but none of it mattered now that he was home.

Though his sword was hanging like a dead weight at his waist and his body smelled of little else except sweat and blood, the young Lord held his back straight and shoulders set as the army marched gratefully into the city. Some of the soldiers peeled off into the crowd to greet family and return home.

True, not all had returned, but this would be a night of celebration for those who did, the following days reserved for rest and mourning of the deceased. Feeling the weight of exhaustion nipping at his heals, the young Lord felt the presence of his eldest general close at his back. He was quite an unusual sight, a relatively young (for his race) Sovani named Torgal who had served the Nassau family unswervingly for eighty years.

With only a brief glance and a small tilt of the head the Sovani nodded and stepped back, snagging one of the messengers still milling about to give him instructions to bring to the castle.

Too relaxed and weary to notice a small commotion happening in the crowd, David Nassau was thoroughly shocked when a brown coated blur shot out of the bystanders nearest him and crashed headlong into his body, sending them both to the ground. Barely given time to react he felt the figure on top of him try to stand, only to get it's legs tangled and collapse onto his chest.

Staring at it, at him he deduced, as he felt no definition or curves on the chest pressed against his own, he caught the impression of wild dark hair, a pale frightened face and large, almost iridescent eyes. The boy froze when David met his gaze, the stranger's eyes shifting between the tumultuous grey of storm clouds and a strange, glittering green that seemed otherworldly in the flickering torchlight that lit the main thoroughfare.

Feeling almost unable to look away for several seconds, the spell was broken when a voice boomed out from the crowd, denouncing the boy as a criminal. Eyes hardening, David rolled to his feet, bringing the boy with him and putting him in a choke hold before he could struggle.

Short of kicking, there wasn't much the boy could do, though David revised his opinion of that when the boy did the most unexpected thing and actually bit him, teeth going straight through his arm coverings. Shock more than anything made David loosen his hold, and the boy pulled free with surprising strength, bolting away.

He didn't get far, for Valeria Heart flared to life in an instant, it's power a heavy, tangible thing that swept through the crowd. It closed in on the boy swiftly before vanishing as quickly as it came, leaving the young man to crumple mid stride, limp as a rag doll.

Surprised at the Remnant's intervention, David turned his eyes from the prone figure to the bleeding marks on his hand. Stripping off the cotton, he inspected the bite, still oozing blood. It had been quite a forceful bite, so he'd probably have a nasty bruise in a few hours… Just as he saw Torgal appear by his side, an odd bout of dizziness swept through him, everything swaying alarmingly.

Staggering at the abrupt loss of equilibrium, he felt a hand appear on his shoulder, the voices of the crowd and his generals becoming muted and distorted. His hand throbbed alarmingly and he felt his whole body relaxing against his will, an unnatural languor winding down his limbs. At the same time he felt his legs give way, dark spots creeping across his vision as everything faded…

oooooooooooooooo

Inside his head, Rush was having real difficulty keeping even a semblance of calm. After the Lord had collapsed, everything started to move very quickly. Both Rush and the young Lord had been carted up to the castle, soldiers struggling to disperse the worried crowds.

Once there, healers had converged on the mitra, while Rush had been taken down into the bowels of the castle and dumped in a dark, cramped cell. Before they left him however someone had taken a swab of the inside of his mouth.

Presumably it was in the hope of identifying what he'd 'poisoned' their Lord with, showing no apparent regard towards the fact that if it had been poison, he'd be affected by it as well… Not, now that he'd thought about it, that they'd be able to tell because of his current paralysis…

Trapped like this, with no way out, it was only a matter of time before someone realised what he was, and when that happened, who knows what they'd do to him… There was a chance they'd just kill him, but it was much more likely that he'd be locked up and 'studied', experimented on to try and figure out how he worked.

He knew that's what they had done to countless other Remnants, the more animalistic kind they called 'therioid types', and honestly he'd rather die than suffer a life of experimentation.

Unable to express the feelings that ran circles in his head, he could only lie on the cold stone floor, breath coming too fast and throat tight with fear. He could still feel Valeria Heart's power, a steel band that constricted his core and blocked his senses. Paralysed like this, he could only rely on hearing, scent and limited touch to tell him of his surroundings.

The worst part was that he couldn't :feel: the people (or lack) around him. He couldn't reach out and sense them, couldn't :seetouchsmelltaste: the delicate, multihued colours and patterns of energy that had been a constant in his life. He couldn't even feel Valeria Heart really, just the leaden weight of it's power like a vice around his heart.

He was so used to the sensations of life flowing around him that the sudden loss was like being struck blind and deaf. The lack of sensation, the feeling of being horribly alone was almost more than he could bear.

oooooooooooo

Meanwhile, Pagus was faced with a bit of a conundrum. The healers had examined Lord David and could find nothing wrong with him, aside from the fact that he was unconscious. There were no signs of any harm done to his body aside from the small wounds on his hand, and his condition was perfectly stable.

For all intents and purposes, he just appeared to be in a deep sleep. He didn't seem to be in any pain, in fact, he actually seemed to be benefiting from whatever this was. The long standing tension in his muscles had vanished, and as they found out later, his blood chemistry had altered slightly, showing his body was producing higher amounts of various beneficial hormones and chemical compounds.

They had taken a blood sample to compare it to the swab they had obtained from the young man, but were unable to find any harmful substances. What they did find baffled them. The swab had wielded the largest amounts of the mystery substance, which they had tested and found to be unlike any poison they had come across before. Pagus had examined the results over and over, but had not been able to make any headway.

Left with so many questions, the only thing they could do was wait for Lord David to wake, and interrogate the boy when Valeria Heart released it's hold on him.

oooooooooooooo

More than halfway across the continent, a servant hurried down a long dark corridor, a sealed letter and a visistone gripped tightly in her trembling hands. Both had arrived only minutes before, brought by a long distance messenger hawk, with strict instructions to be brought directly to the master.

Coming to a set of large wooden double doors, the servant knocked timidly, waiting for the harsh voice of her master to allow her within. Her whole attention fixed on the door, she didn't notice a shape within the shadows moving towards her, nor hear the faint whisper of cloth over stone.

Just before the figure reached her, the door opened and a voice bade her enter. Scurrying inside, the servant jumped slightly, sure she had heard a faint growl from the darkness of the corridor. Sparing a brief glance over her shoulder at the shifting shadows, she curtsied to her master and presented the message, unable to control the tremble of her fingers.

Sparing the quivering servant girl barely a glance, her master perused the letter, sharp eyes quickly skimming the contents. Seeing her master's face darken in anger, the girl shivered, hoping he wouldn't take his rage out on her. After all, it wouldn't be the first time she'd received a beating just for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Eyes fixed on the floor, the girl missed the way her master's anger faded slightly, turning contemplative instead as he removed a piece of cloth from the envelope. Unfolding it, he stared inscrutably at the smear of dried blood on the cloth, glittering gold in the candlelight.

Glancing up at the servant, the man studied her for a moment, taking in her slight figure. She couldn't be more than fourteen at the most. His grip tightening on the letter and visistone, her master's eyes flicked over to the door, an unhappy, almost indecisive look on his face.

Looking down at the items in his hands, the man's expression hardened. Gesturing for the girl to leave with a quick flick of his wrist, he turned to set up the visistone, waiting for the door to close before viewing its contents.

Out in the corridor, the servant girl breathed a quiet sigh of relief, before turning away from the door… and walking straight into someone's chest. Stifling a squeak of surprise, the girl jumped backwards, hurried apologies spilling from her lips.

Hearing a rather sinister sounding chuckle from the figure, she looked up, not sure what to expect, but what she did see made the words die on her tongue, an involuntary flush of heat suffusing her face. The man she had walked into was quite tall, and very well built, the tight white and grey jacket he wore hiding nothing, muscles clearly visible beneath the cloth.

Underneath the open jacket was a low cut white silk vest, showing all of his thick, muscular neck, and a good portion of his smooth toned chest. Eyes drifting across the unusual symbol of a striking white serpent on either side of his jacket, her eyes shot up to his face when he sniggered lightly, obviously amused by her flustered state.

Taking in his face she felt her blush drain away, leaving her face pale with apprehension. His face was just as handsome as the rest of him, classical masculine features, a strong, defined jaw coupled with dark brown hair slicked back and tied in a low ponytail.

All of it gave him a roguish, devil-may-care charm, but his eyes were what stopped her cold. His eyes were glacial chips of vibrant blue ice that reflected nothing but malice and ill intent.

Eyes focused on the floor, the girl tried to slip past him, apologising for blocking his path, but the man didn't seem interested in her words, shifting so that she couldn't pass him. Looking up in confusion, the servant girl couldn't stifle the gasp that escaped her. The man's eyes were… glowing, icy blue orbs of light which seemed to make the shadows around them even darker, transforming his face into a nightmarish visage.

Stepping back until her searching hands met the door, she felt desperately for the handle, her mind flashing back to all those rumours of servants going missing in the dead of night, some just disappearing, but others found later on, ripped to pieces.

Just as her hand found the doorknob, his hand shot out and grasped her wrist, easily pulling her away from the door, turning and shoving her violently against the stone wall. Before she could scream, his other hand was there, squeezing her throat until she could barely draw breath, her one free hand scrabbling ineffectually against his wrist.

(Warning Start!)

Pressing the full length of his body against hers, he leant in and sniffed her hair, nose brushing against her ear. Shaking in fear, she let out a barely heard sob, writhing against his crushing grip, her fear mounting when one of his legs pushed between hers, his arousal clearly felt.

Unexpectedly, a jolt of pain shot through her ear, and she jumped, feeling something wet trickle down from damaged skin, only a moment later to feel heat and wetness surround the throbbing tip.

Shuddering in revulsion, she realised he had bitten her ear, harshly enough to make it bleed, and was now licking up the blood, sucking on the wound he'd made.

Grabbing a handful of his hair, she yanked, hoping to make him release her, but all she got was an amused rumble, feeling the vibrations through his jacket. Pulling away from her ear, he turned and looked her straight in the eye, her heart quailing in her breast as he grinned, unnaturally sharp teeth bared in a hungry, predatory smile.

Watching as his tongue flicked out to lick away a drop of blood at the corner of his mouth, (her blood, something in her whispered) she felt almost hypnotised, paralysed by her own terror. Not noticing when the pressure on her throat eased up, she almost missed it when he spoke, his rough baritone a low croon that made her skin crawl.

"Heh, looks like I got a nice catch this time, young, sweet… mmm, very sweet. After I'm done, I think I'll just eat you up myself. If I shared you with the others, there wouldn't be anything left for me, you're just…too…tasty."

While he was talking, the hand at her neck had released her, drifting down to capture her free hand, encircling her wrist, slowly pulling it up to their faces. Unable to tear away from those chilling eyes, she didn't register the movement until her arm was right beside his face, turned so that the softer underside was facing him. Angling his head, he breathed in the enticing aroma of young flesh, lips twitching back in a teeth bearing grin.

"In fact, I think I'll have a little taste now, just a snack, before we get going…"

(Warning End!)

In the room she had left not long ago, the man who was her master heard her screams, along with other less savoury noises, meaty thumps, wet ripping sounds and guttural groans of pleasure, and shuddered in disgust.

If he went out there, he could stop it easily, but he did nothing, knowing very well the needs of the creatures he had created. Ultimately, the creature's satisfaction and loyalty were worth far more to him than a single, or even a dozen servants' lives. Far better that they sate their unnatural hunger with easily replaceable serfs, than highly trained men he needed for his plans.

Turning back to the visistone, he frowned as he watched a slim figure bathed in green light and moving with unnatural speed swiftly dispose of the hired mercenaries he'd sent after the Honeywell heir. Lifting the piece of cloth that came with the visistone and letter he tilted it so that the golden flecks shone in the lamp light.

"It seems that my trap was not as effective as I thought, one disobedient little pup has eluded my executioners… No matter, it will be found soon enough, and then..."

Turning to the large fireplace burning brightly a few feet away, he smiled, a small unsettling twitch of the lips, and tossed the rag into the fire, a red glow that was not from any flame dancing in his eyes as he watched the cloth burn, seeming almost to twist and writhe in agony as it was consumed…

oooooooooooooo

Hours later, deep in the bowels of the fortress, a door slammed open with such force that one of the hinges broke with a whining snap. Striding through it in a positively foul mood came a tall white furred Sovani, long tapered ears pressed flat against his skull and a disgusted snarl on his face. Before he could even close the door, a quiet voice cut through his angry thoughts.

"Snievan, I take it Young has found some way to get under your skin again, and is gloating about it as usual?"

Twitching in surprise, the Sovani turned to the source of the voice, his snarl bearing long fangs as he glared at the other occupant of the room. A growl evident in his tone, Snievan fought the urge to hiss at the other, who appeared to be a middle aged male mitra wearing a long white robe with a striking serpent motif on the back. Appeared, being the appropriate word.

"Milton, leave now, and keep Young away from me if he values his worthless hide. If I find his leftovers lying in the common room one more time…"

Here the sovani's hands curled into tight fists, claws threatening to break skin.

"He didn't even have the sense to kill it before he started, and the mess it made is deplorable."

Realising he was actually explaining himself to the other male, the Sovani scowled before gesturing curtly for Milton to leave. With a neutral expression that surely masked irritation, the sword master bowed his head at the Sovani, collected his things and swept out of the room.

Normally the man was one of the easiest to be around, but right now Snievan didn't want to be calmed, as childish as it sounded. He didn't understand Young at all, the man was vulgar, and the way he ate was just so… messy. A bit of target practice should relieve some frustration. Especially if he imagined Young's filthy face on the targets…

oooooooooooooooo

Back in Athlum, Torgal had received all the reports from the guards and taken statements from the Warrior's Honour staff and the young Irina Marshal. The accounts were quite contradictory to what they had been expecting. The bartender had been his usual flamboyant self and didn't have a bad word to say, but the guards that had been assigned to observe the boy had also given positive accounts.

Rather than endeavour to be unseen the boy had been wandering about in full view, very much not what he expected from a possible thief or even an assassin.

The boy's things had also been retrieved from his room, and little indicated he was anything more than a traveller. Though interestingly all his possessions seemed very new, and the money pouch they removed from him was surprisingly full...

Putting that to one side for now, he decided to visit the prisoner, mostly to get a personal impression of him, as the previous hubbub hadn't afforded him the opportunity of more than a quick glimpse. Descending into the dungeon, Torgal nodded to the guards posted at various points and stepped into the detention area proper.

Prowling through the cell lined corridors, he stopped dead in his tracks as he got within twenty feet of the occupied cell, fur bristling as he picked up a scent that made his hackles rise. Ears pinned back by reflex, he swallowed the growl building in his chest and stalked forward, just far enough to see the slumped shape of the still immobilised boy.

Glaring for a moment, he proceeded to do a complete circuit of the cell block, frequently scenting the air just to be sure that it was the boy's cell it was coming from. Striding back to the guards he signalled them to come, telling them to stay either side of the door while he checked the boy for any suspicious objects.

Unlocking the door, he crouched and rolled the boy onto his back, mentally noting the lack of any care or consideration given by the guards who had put the boy here. He might have been a suspected criminal, but he was still a person, and deserving of better treatment than he'd been given.

Doing a thorough search of his clothes turned up nothing, yet the smell of Remnant still permeated the air, very different from the metallic scent of Valeria Heart. It was warmer, softer and more organic, but without the musky animal smell of a therioid Remnant. As the source of the scent appeared to be the boy, Torgal was left utterly perplexed, and it wasn't a feeling he liked.

Having noticed the boy flinch slightly during his search, he put the perplexing scent to the back of his mind for the moment, checking the young mitra for any injuries. Finding nothing other than a slightly strange bruise on his side that appeared to have some characteristics of a burn, he lifted him onto the small cot in the cell. Noting he was also a bit heavier than the Sovani was expecting, he arranged him so he was lying on his uninjured side to prevent any choking in the event he was sick.

Leaving and locking the cell again, Torgal strode out of the dungeons, planning on fetching a healer at the next available opportunity to see to than odd bruise, as it still looked quite painful.

ooooooooooooooooooo

Tada! Another chapter done. As always, any reviews are greatly appreciated, and feel free to ask any questions that crop up.