AN: Sorry I've not posted in an unforgivable amount of time. Hopefully, the
story will flow a bit faster no that my life is no longer in transition.
Flames are expected and accepted as due.
After hours of blindly ambling Lana reached the small room in Rior's Holding that she rented as her own. It was a Spartan space with nothing personal or valuable to liven up the dismal brown of the room. It had to be. Anything that she might have left here was subject to theft. It was only by the nature of her reputation that she was able to come back to the small bed centered in the room.
Her breathing was shallow and rapid, an after effect of too many emotions rather than her frantic run throughout the city. That she had come so close only to fail left a bitter mark near what she had once deemed a heart. But she was used to that disappointment. The burning desire to find Lord Tallmont and destroy him fuelled her life. Coming so close only fanned the flames. Failing normally left her feeling rejustified in her quest.
This night however was not normal. Lana felt as though her very soul was bruised, battered, and bloodied.
: What have I become.
The thought echoed through her mind with no mercy. She had seen the look in that Herald's eyes when he suspected her of taking part in the child- slavery ring. In many ways it was deserved, though not for what he suspected.
Lana had had looks of fear and hate directed at her before. She had even had the icy hot stare of disgust centered on her from her own father. But she had never felt them.
When the Herald puppy looked at her as if she was cut of the same scum as those she had given up her life to fight against it had been different. She had felt his look as if it had been her own. All of the things she had done over the years to survive and ultimately become powerful enough to ruin Lord Tallmont flashed hauntingly through her mind. Though she didn't doubt her cause was just, now she wondered if the path she was taking to get to it was worth it.
As the sun reluctantly glanced into her small surroundings Lana curled herself into a tight ball. She rested her head upon her knees as she cried herself to sleep. Tears for the young girl she had lost so long ago without ever questioning why.
: The sun rises early this time of year. It always makes me feel as though the nights aren't long enough for anyone to get a decent night's rest. And it makes it deuced difficult to get back to the Collegium without feeling as though we're on parade.
This morning Tristan's mindvoice sounded far more disagreeable than usual. Lyra was used to the sour tone of his morning tirades but this was one she would not accept.
Her mind voiced dripped with unrepentant sarcasm. : Perhaps if you had not gone against Alberich's suggestion for this particular evening you would not currently be riding through the streets of Haven having to put on your 'polite I'm a Herald of Valdemar how can I help you' façade.
: I wonder how I was supposed to follow Alberich's suggestion for this evening since his plans didn't include a vigilante young woman with an aim in street knives that would put Skiff to shame.
: I believe the words 'do not directly introduce yourself to the scum' might have applied. Something I might add you disregarded three weeks ago.
Tristan's normal crowd face slipped slightly. He was used to prolonged courtly discussions with brainless lordlings, who questioned whether or not the sky actually had to be blue, without breaking form. But this morning he was already in a foul mood.
: Yes, and three weeks ago my Companion was with me in that particular endeavor completely. I don't see how last night in any way changed that. Other than there seems to be a new complication to the plot.
There was a hesitant pause in Tristan's mindvoice. Lyra felt him shield away from her slightly.
: What do you think that she has to do with all of this?
: I don't know. She was shielded tighter than an empath in a battlefield after I came into the picture. Those shields slipped only slightly and not enough for me to clearly get anything out of her. But I know this, she is connected to this. How exactly, I don't know.
There was something in Lyra's mindvoice, which made Tristan's normally impeccable posture in the saddle disappear. His face took on the look of a disappointed five year old as he slouched forward.
: Do you think that she's part of a rival circle?
Before he could clearly send another word Lyra blasted him with a wave of disapproval.
: I would have thought you were smarter than that Tristan! You're an empath for Haven's sake! How could you not feel the desperation in her voice when she gave you that dressing down?
The rode on in silence for a few winding streets before Tristan tentatively responded.
: Lyra, I couldn't get a clear read on her emotions.
: What do you mean? You're gift of empathy is one of the strongest? How could her shields be so strong to block you?
: That's what worries me. I wasn't blocked. It was as if I was looking into a mirror and saw my own emotions, but they were jubbled with another image. Do you think there's something wrong with my gift? I haven't had trouble since my years in the Grays, but maybe this assignment has messed it up?
: I don't know what to tell you Tristan. I have a theory, but I'm not sure. All I can say is that we need to find that girl and see what she knows. And this time try not to scare her off with your holier than thou act.
Tristan was bothered. Not by Lyra's none to subtle disapproval of the way he'd handled things. But she was worried and wouldn't tell him what exactly the problem she foresaw was.
: You need to report to Alberich on this one. I think it is about time we let our Weaponmaster know what we've been up to. I think we've finally gotten ourselves over our heads.
: Lyra? What does this one girl have to do with me telling Alberich? Tristan's voice was panicked. Even after Alberich had singled him out to aid him in his nightly work in Haven, Tristan had not been comfortable with the man. In his Grays, Tristan had hero-worshipped him a bit and Alberich only intimidated him more as he grew aware of how gifted the man was.
: The fact that you haven't yet realized that you no longer can complete this assignment because you've revealed who you are to the slavers makes me wonder.
Lyra paused unsure of how to continue.
:I think we should give up this work. Maybe we aren't cut out for it Tristan.
: Lyra! I know that we've ....alright I've been rather rash lately. I don't know why. I'm sorry its just that I keep feeling that there is something to do with this assignment that I have to be a part of. Its as if ...well its as if it was meant to be. That's why I've gotten far more involved with it than Alberich wanted. I just had to.
: Tristan that bothers me more than I want to admit.
After hours of blindly ambling Lana reached the small room in Rior's Holding that she rented as her own. It was a Spartan space with nothing personal or valuable to liven up the dismal brown of the room. It had to be. Anything that she might have left here was subject to theft. It was only by the nature of her reputation that she was able to come back to the small bed centered in the room.
Her breathing was shallow and rapid, an after effect of too many emotions rather than her frantic run throughout the city. That she had come so close only to fail left a bitter mark near what she had once deemed a heart. But she was used to that disappointment. The burning desire to find Lord Tallmont and destroy him fuelled her life. Coming so close only fanned the flames. Failing normally left her feeling rejustified in her quest.
This night however was not normal. Lana felt as though her very soul was bruised, battered, and bloodied.
: What have I become.
The thought echoed through her mind with no mercy. She had seen the look in that Herald's eyes when he suspected her of taking part in the child- slavery ring. In many ways it was deserved, though not for what he suspected.
Lana had had looks of fear and hate directed at her before. She had even had the icy hot stare of disgust centered on her from her own father. But she had never felt them.
When the Herald puppy looked at her as if she was cut of the same scum as those she had given up her life to fight against it had been different. She had felt his look as if it had been her own. All of the things she had done over the years to survive and ultimately become powerful enough to ruin Lord Tallmont flashed hauntingly through her mind. Though she didn't doubt her cause was just, now she wondered if the path she was taking to get to it was worth it.
As the sun reluctantly glanced into her small surroundings Lana curled herself into a tight ball. She rested her head upon her knees as she cried herself to sleep. Tears for the young girl she had lost so long ago without ever questioning why.
: The sun rises early this time of year. It always makes me feel as though the nights aren't long enough for anyone to get a decent night's rest. And it makes it deuced difficult to get back to the Collegium without feeling as though we're on parade.
This morning Tristan's mindvoice sounded far more disagreeable than usual. Lyra was used to the sour tone of his morning tirades but this was one she would not accept.
Her mind voiced dripped with unrepentant sarcasm. : Perhaps if you had not gone against Alberich's suggestion for this particular evening you would not currently be riding through the streets of Haven having to put on your 'polite I'm a Herald of Valdemar how can I help you' façade.
: I wonder how I was supposed to follow Alberich's suggestion for this evening since his plans didn't include a vigilante young woman with an aim in street knives that would put Skiff to shame.
: I believe the words 'do not directly introduce yourself to the scum' might have applied. Something I might add you disregarded three weeks ago.
Tristan's normal crowd face slipped slightly. He was used to prolonged courtly discussions with brainless lordlings, who questioned whether or not the sky actually had to be blue, without breaking form. But this morning he was already in a foul mood.
: Yes, and three weeks ago my Companion was with me in that particular endeavor completely. I don't see how last night in any way changed that. Other than there seems to be a new complication to the plot.
There was a hesitant pause in Tristan's mindvoice. Lyra felt him shield away from her slightly.
: What do you think that she has to do with all of this?
: I don't know. She was shielded tighter than an empath in a battlefield after I came into the picture. Those shields slipped only slightly and not enough for me to clearly get anything out of her. But I know this, she is connected to this. How exactly, I don't know.
There was something in Lyra's mindvoice, which made Tristan's normally impeccable posture in the saddle disappear. His face took on the look of a disappointed five year old as he slouched forward.
: Do you think that she's part of a rival circle?
Before he could clearly send another word Lyra blasted him with a wave of disapproval.
: I would have thought you were smarter than that Tristan! You're an empath for Haven's sake! How could you not feel the desperation in her voice when she gave you that dressing down?
The rode on in silence for a few winding streets before Tristan tentatively responded.
: Lyra, I couldn't get a clear read on her emotions.
: What do you mean? You're gift of empathy is one of the strongest? How could her shields be so strong to block you?
: That's what worries me. I wasn't blocked. It was as if I was looking into a mirror and saw my own emotions, but they were jubbled with another image. Do you think there's something wrong with my gift? I haven't had trouble since my years in the Grays, but maybe this assignment has messed it up?
: I don't know what to tell you Tristan. I have a theory, but I'm not sure. All I can say is that we need to find that girl and see what she knows. And this time try not to scare her off with your holier than thou act.
Tristan was bothered. Not by Lyra's none to subtle disapproval of the way he'd handled things. But she was worried and wouldn't tell him what exactly the problem she foresaw was.
: You need to report to Alberich on this one. I think it is about time we let our Weaponmaster know what we've been up to. I think we've finally gotten ourselves over our heads.
: Lyra? What does this one girl have to do with me telling Alberich? Tristan's voice was panicked. Even after Alberich had singled him out to aid him in his nightly work in Haven, Tristan had not been comfortable with the man. In his Grays, Tristan had hero-worshipped him a bit and Alberich only intimidated him more as he grew aware of how gifted the man was.
: The fact that you haven't yet realized that you no longer can complete this assignment because you've revealed who you are to the slavers makes me wonder.
Lyra paused unsure of how to continue.
:I think we should give up this work. Maybe we aren't cut out for it Tristan.
: Lyra! I know that we've ....alright I've been rather rash lately. I don't know why. I'm sorry its just that I keep feeling that there is something to do with this assignment that I have to be a part of. Its as if ...well its as if it was meant to be. That's why I've gotten far more involved with it than Alberich wanted. I just had to.
: Tristan that bothers me more than I want to admit.