A/N: Gosh, I'm tired.. it's 4 am in the morning over here, and I just finished this chapter, just for you, guys ;) There was a lot more left to do than I'd first imagine.. but now, it's all done! A word of caution; there's some heavy stuff in it, and I apologise more the massive parts of text. If you manage to read through them all, I will tip my hat for you! ;)
Enjoy!
The Sorceress and the Sharpshooter
Chapter Eleven
The City of Nightmares
It doesn't matter if you leave; we are inside you. Your heart, your lungs, your thoughts will all be blackened. Watch your flesh turn to black. Watch your thoughts turn to black. Watch your fates turn to black. You're tainted. The stain will never wash out. The sun will never shine upon you again. Tainted broken little toys. Watch as your skin withers and falls leaving you exposed and hollow. The light you bring will die. The light inside you will die. All that you are will die. Watch us fly into your heart; death beats its wings for you. Now do you realise how worthless you are?
No! She fought with all her might, out of the Darkness's grip. She wanted to live. She wanted to live! I want to live!
Death is not your destiny today, little sparrow.
She shot her eyes open, despite the blinding sun and despite it hurt like hell. Theresa's voice lingered in her head as she stared up at the sun. Not die, she thought. Not today.
Suddenly, a head covered the sun, and as her vision cleared a pair of forget-me-not-blue eyes gazed down at her, and a pair of lips smirked handsomely at her. "Taking a nap in the sun?" the lips pressed out with a gleeful tone and someone took her hand, and it felt familiar. "Typical royalties. You almost had me worried there for a while."
She gazed back at the face before her. Was it possible? Was it him? "Ben?" she croaked out.
"Don't worry, Princess," said the blond soldier softly and gave her hand a small squeeze. "You're safe now."
She could cry of happiness. She wanted to cry, but she was all too tired for it. "Walter," she finally breathed. "Where's… Walter?"
"Rest now, Princess," Ben said. "Leave Walter to us. We'll find him. He can't be far away."
She felt him his hand leave hers, and she wanted to object, she didn't want him to let go! What did he mean "find him"? Walter was there! Wasn't he? She hadn't abandoned him! She didn't leave him! Or did she? No, no she didn't. She wouldn't! She tried to tell them, but she couldn't. Her mouth was dry, and she almost couldn't breathe. She felt how hands picked her up and placed her on a stretcher, and shortly after, it started to move, and she saw the sky move with her. No, she thought. No, don't leave without Walter! She took a breath. She wanted to tell them that he was there, that he was with her, that she hadn't left him. "Walter!" she breathed again.
"Don't worry, your Highness," a male voice told her. She couldn't see who it was, because she was too tired to lift her head.
"Help over here!" she could hear Ben's voice call from a distance, and she heard the shuffling feet of people moving away from her.
She closed her eyes. They found him, she though in relief. They found him. Everything is going to be fine.
She let her body melt away into nothingness as the stretcher was carried away, and somewhere along the way, she must have fallen into some sort of a trance. She was asleep, but occasionally, she would open her eyes and see arches and flags, rooftops and windows. However, next time she opened her eyes, she woke up. She was lying on a bed, inside a building. The air was cool, and the only sounds heard were mumbling from somewhere in the distance. She then heard a dog's panting and claws against a stone floor, and she turned her head. Bernard… "Bernard!" she called hoarsely and sat up, not without difficulties. The dog wiggled his tail so violently, she was afraid it would come off any second. The dog whined in ecstasy and pattered his paws manically as his whole body wiggled together with the tail. "Hey, boy!" she breathed with her tears not far away. He was alive… he made it!
A woman walked up to her. She was bald and a thick, white stripe covered her face, and her striking, blue eyes reminded her of someone… "Your Highness, you are awake," she said calmly. "Good." She kneeled next to her. "My name is Kalin, and you are in the city of Aurora."
Andrea nodded. Then she gasped and looked around. "Walter?" She saw the old man lying on another bed, only a few feet away. He was still unconscious, and an elderly woman seemed to be tending to him. "How is he?"
"He is fortunate to be alive," Kalin said. "But we have seen his condition before. We might be able to help him."
Again, Andrea nodded. Then she looked around once more. Where was Ben? She knew she had seen him! It couldn't have been just a dream now, could it? When she came to think of it; that woman, Kalin, she had similar eyes to Ben's… could it have been—no. No, she had seen Ben. She knew she had. "Is there another of my friends here?" she asked and looked at the woman. "I thought I saw… in the desert—"
"A devilishly handsome soldier by the name of Ben Finn?" his voice suddenly said as he approached her. She looked up, and her heard skipped a beat. He was alive! He jumped up onto the platform where Andrea was lying. "Not dead yet, my friend."
The woman, Kalin, looked at Ben and then at Andrea and then back at Ben. "I'll leave the two of you alone for now," she said and rose.
Ben grabbed Andrea's hand and smiled. "I'm so glad to see you're alive."
Andrea looked up at him, feeling how her entire body got warm, and she pressed herself closer to him, leaning her head against his chest. "I was so scared, Ben!" she sobbed quietly. "That—that thing… it was if it dragged every horror and every nightmare I've ever experienced to reality, and presented it to me, forced it back to me!"
He hushed her and stroked his hand across her hair. "You don't have to be afraid anymore, Princess. I'm here. You're safe now."
She buried her face in his uniform and cried, her whole body trembling. "Don't let go," she breathed. "Don't let go."
"I won't," he promised. And he held her, safely and steadily. Really, what would she do without Ben?
.:*Ö*:.
The knot was still there, growing inside his stomach. She was hurt, and she was frightened, yet all he could think of was her body against his. Well, that settles it then, he thought bitterly to himself. You're a despicable human being, Benjamin Finn! But he couldn't help the satisfaction he felt by the fact that it he who was comforting this fragile beauty and not that Elliot twat. He fought the urge to smirk, but lost, and it was a good thing the Princess couldn't see his face. He tightened his hold around her, not willing to let go that easily. But she didn't seem to mind. She pressed herself even closer and turned in his embrace to make it a bit more comfortable. Ben leaned his chin against her head and clenched his jaw. So, he thought. I've played my first jack. Now what?
But he was surprisingly answered by the Princess herself as she raised her head to look at him. "I need some air."
"Of course," Ben said, and even though he disliked it, he let go of her to let her stand. He offered her his arm, which she took. "Are you hungry or thirsty? They don't have much, but it's always something."
Andrea nodded. "That would be nice."
They walked out of the temple – or whatever it was – and found Kalin, talking to a villager. She turned towards them.
"How are you feeling, your Highness?" she asked.
Andrea nodded. "I'm well, thank you."
"The Princess would like a bit of food, and some water," Ben said.
Kalin nodded. "Of course. Here, let me help you, your Highness, and I'll see to that you'll be taken care of properly."
Reluctantly, Ben let Andrea go with Kalin, and he clenched his jaw. Possession, he thought to himself. Get away from it, mate, before it consumes you.
.:*Ö*:.
Andrea had gotten herself a hearty meal, a bath and some new, clean clothes. She felt calm yet distressed as she looked out the window of one of the guest-rooms in Kalin's house. The creature's voice still echoed in her head, and she couldn't push away the fact that it stirred disturbed memories from her childhood. She nervously fiddled with her nails as there was a knock on the door. "Yes?" she asked.
"It's me; Ben," she heard from the outside, and her heart raced.
"Come in!"
The captain entered, and as he saw her, so clean and well dressed, he opened his mouth, probably to speak, but closed it again.
Blood rushed to Andrea's face as she looked away. "Did you want anything special, captain?"
"I just wanted to make sure you're alright," he said.
"I'm… quite alright, thank you," she said, but avoided his eyes. She had let him too close. Sure enough, his presence calmed her, and she couldn't deny the butterflies in her stomach every time she saw the arrogant soldier. Nevertheless, she was not a common girl, so she couldn't give herself to him like that, no matter how much she might want it. She had obligations and regulations.
"Come," he suddenly said and reached out a hand.
Andrea looked at it, bewildered. "Why?"
"Just come with me," Ben smiled. "I want to show you something."
Uncertain, she took his hand and followed him out to the city. The air was hot and dusty and as the sun shone through the dust, the light received a shade of burnt umbra.
"Welcome to Aurora," he said, "the city of nightmares."
She looked around. There were no people there. "Where is everybody?"
"Hiding," Ben said. "They've lived in constant fear of the Darkness for the past five years. Kalin told me it had reaped many lives, including her father's."
"I can understand that," Andrea mumbled.
Ben sighed. "Andrea, it's really good to see you. When I woke up after being fished out of the local port, and you and Walter weren't there… well, I thought it was all over. Then I realised I was being an arse and worked my charms to get a search party out for you."
Andrea chuckled lightly. "Work your charms? I'm surprised you even succeeded."
Ben nudged her lightly. "Be nice, Princess, I hold the strings here."
Andrea laughed, and it felt good to be able to do it. When she was in the cave, she felt as if she'd never laugh again… they continued through the rather eerily silent city, down to the docks. Ben sat down, and Andrea sat down next to him.
"See that?" Ben asked and nodded towards the horizon. "Beyond that horizon lies Albion. Your Albion. You will return a Queen, Andrea. You left as a young, headstrong girl, and you'll return as a Queen. All that's standing in your way is an ocean and a few petty soldiers." She looked at him and he smiled, and Andrea's heart flickered. Oh, Avo, help her.
Ben eyed her. She was so beautiful. Her emerald eyes glittered in the setting sunlight, and her auburn curls played like fire in the wind. Her face was darkened with sorrow and worry, but right there, right then, Ben saw the young woman age at least five years. He fought his many urges to touch her, but a playful smirk just came naturally.
She blushed some as she sighed and looked away. After a silent pause she asked; "Do you think Walter will live?"
"Of course he will!" Ben chuckled. "He won't give up that easily! You know that!"
"I don't know anything anymore," she sighed as her eyes were set on the horizon.
Ben sighed, too. "Well, I think he'll be alright. It's Wally we're talking about, Princess! He'll be fine! He's a stubborn, old—"
"I think Logan went there," Andrea suddenly said.
Ben raised a brow, bewildered. "There? There where? Here? To Aurora? Well, yes, he did. Everybody knows it."
"I mean there," she said. "To where Walter and I were. To the Darkness. I think it's killing him… and I think it killed my mother, too."
Ben knitted his eyebrows and looked at her. "You think this… this Darkness killed your mother?"
She nodded.
"You're sure?" Ben asked, and she nodded again. "Well, did you find any, you know, traces? Her sword? Anything?"
This made Andrea laugh, a dark and bitterly amused laugh and she shook her head. "Yes… the whole country believes she died a Hero." She sighed. "Some say she died by a dying enemy's last bullet. Some say she died on her way back to Bowerstone after saving the kingdom. Some even say that her death was caused by foul play, and that her killer was so afraid that her spirit would haunt him, he killed himself, so even in death she would still perform Heroic deeds. Well… if the people knew the truth, my mother would lose all credibility. They would demand her and her kin being locked up at a madhouse."
Ben knitted his eyebrows even more, if that was even possible. "I don't mean to be rude, Princess, but what in Skorm's name are you talking about? I—didn't she die on a quest?"
With a deep and devastated sigh, she turned her eyes towards Ben. And then she shook her head.
"What happened to her?"
She turned her gaze back towards the horizon. "She didn't die out on a quest, but she did die battling." She took a deep breath before she continued. "My mother fell ill, just after my third birthday. It came like a hurricane; swift, violent and out of nowhere. It was horrible. I can't remember everything that clearly, but I do remember when I had to go and visit my mother. The first time, I remember sitting on my father's arm, and I held on to him, as if I'd never let him go. Logan held his hand, even though he was a bit too old for that. But he was just as frightened as I was. Father said that we weren't allowed to quarrel or laugh or make any unnecessary noises, and as we entered, I remember seeing my mother half lying in her bed, her eyes weary. The windows were covered with heavy curtains and blankets. The doctor said the sunlight hurt her eyes, but he was troubled; the dark seemed to make her worse, and any burning candle would frighten her. Apparently, she saw things flickering in the shadows. I remember that we weren't allowed to be in her room for that long, but it was long enough for both Logan and I to understand how serious it really was. But, it got worse. Much worse. The physician, Dr Baker, was with her most days, and she could only be out of bed a couple of hours each day. Another two months, and she was confined to her bed. The strongest memories I have from that period was her screaming some nights. It was as if the nightmares were eating her alive. I often went to Logan's room and slept in his bed, since father was too occupied by his royal duties and was rarely at home. Logan used to tell me that everything would be alright, that mother would get well again, and we would be a real family. But it only got worse." She swallowed. "Dr Baker moved in with us in the castle. It's from this period my memories are as clearest; some days she was… better. We could talk to her, and she would answer. But some days… well, some days she was unreachable. She would cry and scream things about her being 'tainted' and that the light inside her would die. She would call us foul names, curse at us, scream at us to go away. She would call us 'children' sometimes, but she didn't mean her children; she meant the Children of the Darkness. Even though her eyes were gone, I still remember that look upon her face; that look of utter and complete horror. She saw things that weren't there; shadows and monsters." She took a pause to breath. Ben looked at her, and he saw the hurt in her face. She took a deep breath and continued; "The screaming became worse. Eventually, every night was filled with her terrifying screams. I—I remember one night in particular… we had become so used to the screaming at night, we were no longer frightened by it. Whenever she would start, the doctor would tranquilise her, and she would fall right back to sleep. One or two hours later, she woke up, and the same procedure was done, and so it would be the whole night, every night. But this night, this particular night, her screams were even worse than we'd ever imagine. Dr Baker rushed into Logan's room in cheer panic. Logan was reading to me at the time; trying to comfort me. There was a conversation… I can't remember it that well, but it was rapid and I remember thinking that the doctor sounded awfully distressed. Logan jumped off the bed and picked me up and rushed to mother's room. She was still screaming. When the doctor opened the door… when he—when…" She breathed heavily, and Ben put a hand on her shoulder.
"Andrea, you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. Memories can be more painful when reminded of. Take it from someone who knows."
She shook her head. "No. I—I want to." She looked at him. "I have carried this inside of me long enough. I have never told anyone before. Not even Elliot. If I do this, then maybe I could find closure."
He felt a string of pride as the Princess actually confided in him rather than Elliot, even though it was a dreadful story. "Well then," he said, "I'm here. I'm listening."
She inhaled and looked back towards the horizon. "The first thing I remember, as if it was yesterday, was the scream. It was terrifying enough hearing it from the other side of the castle, but right there, right then, her scream could make your blood freeze. I… I can't even try to understand how Dr Baker could stand it every night without going mad. The second thing I remember; the smell. The horrible odour of staleness, sweat, human waste and vomit. And then… then there was the tapestry. It was torn, as if someone had tried to scratch their way out. And it was everywhere, not just on one specific spot. All four walls were covered by these deep scratch marks. Mother had collapsed and was lying in the middle of the room. Her fingertips were bleeding. Somehow, she had found the strength to get up and scratch the walls… she wouldn't let anyone come close to her, and her eyes were completely gone. We were no longer humans to her. We never even entered the room. Logan took me back to his room and continued on reading, as if nothing had happened, and he would sit by my side until I had fallen asleep." One again, she paused. "From that day, our life became like a living nightmare. The screams were no longer restrained to night time, but were also heard during the day. She screamed all the time now. Father didn't even want to be at home, and therefore, he would only be back for a day or two before he went on his next journey. Logan and I stopped visiting her every day. Dr Baker said it was too risky. Our presence seemed to agitate her, and in her fragile state, he was afraid that she might get a heart-attack. We would visit her, occasionally, and once again, sometimes she could address us, and sometimes she was gone. Her hair had gone white. Dr Baker said it was from fright. He couldn't explain it in any other way. One morning when we came to see her, she had a bandage around her throat. Dr Baker said that when he had, at one point during the night, gone into her room to tranquilise her, she had scratched her throat, just as she had scratched the walls, and her throat was covered with open wounds. He had been forced to strap her down for the night. I remember that Walter had started to ready us for her… passing away. I guess I was too young to really grasp the whole concept of death. I knew mother was unwell, but to be honest, I have only very vivid memories of my mother before the illness began. And those months were so intense, I simply forgot that she had been different." She looked at Ben with tears in her eyes. "Am I horrible for that?"
Ben shook his head and moved closer to her so that he could put his arm around her shoulders. "You were three years old. What does a three-year-old know about death? I'm astonished you even remember it at all."
"Well," she said and leaned her head against his shoulder, "as I said; those months were so intense, it's hard to forget. Avo knows I've tried."
"Was it… did it get worse, you know, towards the end?"
"I honestly don't know," she said. "Somehow, I don't think it ever truly left her, but at the same time, I want to believe that she finally found peace…" She sighed. "Walter called for me and Logan one afternoon. Mother had one of her better days, and she wanted to see us. We entered her room, and it was clean. The servants had cleaned her room on her demand. The odour was gone, the blankets were gone, and the heavy curtains were now hanging over the scratched walls, and she had been dressed in her finest dress; a one with a high collar, so that her wounds wouldn't show. Dr Baker was at her side, as always, but he was smiling comfortingly. Mother apologised on our father's behalf that he wasn't there for us, and then she wanted me to sit down next to her. I did, naturally. I was just happy that my mother was feeling better! I thought she was going to be fine. But Logan didn't really want to go anywhere near her. Then, I simply couldn't understand why, but now I know he probably understood what was going on. So, he kept his distance. Logan has never been very good at farewells. Mother asked me to take her hand, and I did. It was so emaciated, I believe my small hand was heavier than hers. She squeezed my hand with the little strength she had left, and she even managed a smile, and behind those sunken, dim eyes and the yellow and greyish skin, I saw my mother, and it's my strongest, real memory I have of who she really was. She told me a story, and I fell asleep at her side. I woke up by Logan picking me up, tears streaming down his face, and the last thing I saw as we left the room was how Dr Baker covered my mother's face with a white cloth."
Ben didn't know what to say. Even though he had lost his entire family, nothing could compare to the nightmare she had lived through. "It's… it's just… horrible. Just horrible," he said. "I mean, you were so young, it must have given you scars that will never heal?"
"It did," she said. "For a long time, I still thought I heard her scream during the night." She laughed. "I think I slept in Logan's bed until I was at least seven years old. I bet he hated me for that. But eventually, it went away. I forgot it, I suppose. Well, not forgot it, I just… suppressed it. But after those intense six months, I was terrified of the dark. When mother had been screaming, she sometimes used real words, such as 'the Darkness is coming' and 'the Children are hungry'. So, I became afraid of the dark. And I think a lot had to do with her room being so dark. Let's face it; not many of my memories from that room are nice ones."
"Did you tell anyone?"
"Logan," Andrea said. "But father forbade us to ever speak of it again. He spread the rumour of her Heroic death, and we buried her in secrecy. He had her room shut and barred, and we've never spoken of it since. He thought it would be lost in oblivion. The people would think that she died a Hero, and as we weren't allowed to tell anyone, that rumour would eventually become the truth, since no one could prove anything different."
"So why do you think you mother went here? Do you think that whatever you and Walter faced was the source of your mother's insanity?"
"I don't know," she said. "I just… I have a feeling. A terrible feeling." She seemed to ponder before she spoke again; "When we were in that cavern, we heard a voice… a terrible, chilling voice, speaking about Darkness and the Children and how we were polluted and tainted. It spoke about how our world would be covered by Darkness and how the light inside us would die. Now, either it was looking into my darkest memories, or it wasn't, but whatever it did to Walter, I believe it did to my mother."
"What about Logan?"
She shook her head. "When father died, and Logan inherited the crown, he made his first priority to find out whatever happed to mother. None of us were really that close to our father, but we both adored mother, and Logan knew her much better than me. They had had fifteen years together when I was born. He simply couldn't let it all go. He had to know. It became an obsession of his. But even though he did everything he could to figure out what had happened, he still managed to be a good regent. And he was a wonderful brother. It's just sad that he didn't have that much time for me, but if a spare moment popped up, no matter how rare they were, he spent it with me. And the people of Albion loved him! Up until four years ago… when he returned from here. From Aurora."
Ben clenched his jaw. He had too remembered when Kind Logan had been a respectable man and a fair regent. But he simply couldn't accept that fact any longer. Not after what he had done to Swift.
"After that, he was a changed man," Andrea continued. "He started having restless nights and started sleepwalking, and I found him in the war room more than once, mumbling to himself about the Darkness and the Children." She looked at Ben. "Don't tell me it's all a coincidence."
He shook his head. "I'm not."
"I am convinced that whatever evil lurks within that cavern, it infected my mother, my brother and most certainly my mentor," Andrea said. "And who knows? Maybe I'm infected, too?"
"Do you feel infected?" Ben asked. A stupid question, really, but necessary all the same. It must feel… somehow different if something evil had infected one's mind?
"I've felt infected my whole life," she said.
"But do you feel different?"
She shook her head. "I don't know. I feel overwhelmed. I mean, it's like I understand everything now. The puzzle my brother has wanted to solve for so long is finally done. The mystery of my mother and my brother is unravelled. I don't need to go looking, because the answer came to me, without my consent. I never wanted this. I've accepted that my mother fell ill. It doesn't mean I like it, but I've accepted it. I didn't need to go looking for an answer, but it came anyway. It's like the answer preceded the question, because even though the mystery is solved, it raises even more questions, question I never had before!"
Ben nodded. Once again, he had no idea what to tell her.
"But the biggest question, and the question I wish to have an answer to, is that now when I know what the Darkness is, now that I've seen it with my own eyes; can I destroy it? I can banish that evil form the face of this earth and save Walter and Logan? Can I save them from whatever horror lies ahead, or is it already too late?"
"You want to know what I think?" Ben asked and sighed. "I think you need to rest. It has all been too much for you, Princess. You… you need to bounce back. Walter is going to be fine. He's a stubborn old sod, and don't you ever think anything else! Now, you need to concentrate on what lies ahead of you."
"You really think Walter's going to be fine?" Andrea asked and looked at him.
He smiled and nodded. "Yes."
"Well," she muttered and turned her eyes back towards the horizon, "that's what everybody kept saying about my mother."
Ben studied her. What darkness lured inside of this fragile girl? What nightmares did she really suffer from? He recalled that night in Mourningwood when she said that she suffered from nightmares. She told him it was about the decision she had been forced to make before she left the castle, but now he wondered if she hadn't told the entire truth. But then again, why should she? She had no idea who he was then, and he was truly astonished that she had shared this piece of her dark, enclosed memories with him. Perhaps she wasn't that spoiled little brat she first appeared to be? Perhaps life in the castle wasn't as easy as he first had thought?
"Anyway, enough about my disturbed childhood," she suddenly sighed and looked up at him. "Tell me about yours."
Ben chuckled. "My childhood?"
"Well, you do have a past, don't you?" she asked, and if Ben didn't mistake himself, he could hear a tone of challenge in her voice. "We all have a past."
He raised his brows and nodded. "True."
"Now I've told you a very dark and major event of my past," she continued, "so now it's your turn to share one of yours."
He smirked. He didn't really want to be vain or self-centred, but he had to admit that he had had some remarkable adventures during his life.
"Tell me about your brothers," she said, her voice more pleading than demanding.
He clenched his jaw. That particular part was something he'd rather not talk about. However, he presumed that she was right; perhaps taking about it would bring closure. He had, after all, shared it in his autobiography... he took a deep breath. "I was the youngest of four boys. Jason was the eldest, then William, Quentin and finally myself. Now, as we weren't, well, exactly rich, my brothers and I had to earn our own sustenance. My brothers had their own way of getting money, and even though I tried my best, and even though my hands were the smallest, I simply couldn't do it as well as they did. I simply wasn't cut out for pocket-picking. I found my calling as a street performer, sharing my thoughts to the people of my village, and I had a knack for it! Not that is was royal standard on my jokes," he smiled, "but it was honest and simple enough for peasants. However, involuntarily, I became the diversion so that my brothers could rob the villagers blind. I became an accidental accomplice. But to be honest, I shouldn't complain. It was with stolen money I got my first pellet gun, and because of it, I discovered my second talent, and in the following years, I traded my career as a street performer to a gambler, together with my brothers. Now, I'm not proud of that, however, I won ninety-nine percent of the times. All people had to do was to place a bet and then shoot better than me. Simple enough, but apparently, it was hard. I received a beating or two. Apparently, men are very sensible. They didn't like that an eleven year old boy could shoot better than them, so they proved that they were better at other things instead, like using their fists. But as I was used as a punch-ball, my brothers punched back. Thus the brothers Finn were labelled as nuisance, and this we remained for years to come. Because of our reputation, the love affair between Jason and a married woman did not surprise anyone. Not even the husband. However, this didn't mean he was less furious. He challenged my bother for a duel, which was fought using pitchforks, and, well, my brother had never done one day of honest work in his entire life, so he pulled the short straw by holding the pitchfork the wrong way round. I believe you could imagine the outcome of that." He scoffed. "Now, I told you that I had found a new career in gambling, and it was going well. Very well. Men and women around the neighbouring villages came to beat me, but no one did, and as I was a lot stronger at the age of fifteen than at the age of eleven, the people reluctantly left their money as I beat them silly with my accuracy. Now, as I continued with this rather harmless occupation, my remaining brother continued on with the slightly heavier stuff. They were now con men, robbing innocent people of their livelihood. Shortly after the tragically comical death of my eldest brother, William did the fatal mistake of conning the wrong man; a civilian townsguard. He was taken to Bowerstone, and I haven't heard from him since. He robbed that poor sod blind, so I suspect he met his end at the gallows. You already know about Quentin, so I hardly have to tell you again. All I can say is that it was all due to a rather large gambling debt, and a hefty price on his head." He looked at her, and when he saw the horror in her eyes, he knew he had moved up a notch. He was definitely in the game. He didn't find it all that hard to talk about, whatsoever. It was infinitely easier than he'd first imagined. However, the Princess didn't necessarily have to know that. "My mother died shortly after by a broken heart, leaving my father a drunken widower. I tried to hold the fort, but it was difficult to say the least. Not long after my mother's passing, my father joined the rest of my family, far more sober than he would have liked, and that put an official end of my childhood, only fifteen years of age."
"I didn't… I'm sorry Ben," the Princess whispered, her eyes still on him. "That's just… horrible!"
"Well," Ben said, "it's history now, Princess."
She nodded, taking a deep breath, trying to regain her control. She then sighed and cleared her throat. She then detached herself from Ben's embrace, and she stood up, leaving Ben very bewildered. Was he still in the game?
"I'm sorry for your loss, Captain," she then said, and he recognised that regal tone from the very first time he saw her. "Thank you… for your time." She then gave him a nod before she turned to walk away.
He knitted his brows and turned to look at her. "And that's it, then?" He chuckled.
"For today," she answered and left.
Ben smirked as he looked out over the open sea. Oh yes, he thought, I am definitely in the game.
