(Kayell)
It had been nearly six years since I had last seen Dren. It must mean that my mother realizes how serious the situation is. Unfortunately, I rarely was ever able to see him unless that was the case. It was around that time six years ago (What was I? 15? 16?) that there was an assassin out after my father and myself. It seems that such occasions happen often with royalty. With the help of Dren, we escaped with little trouble. It didn't take very long before the assassin was found and put to death.
He stayed with us, at the request of my father, for a year afterward, helping in my training. He was a rough one to get used to at first, but once you get past the shell of a personality he puts in front, he could be a loyal, caring friend. I had a lot of time to get used to him myself. He would drift in and out of our lives for as long as I could remember.
Heh, drifting---reminds me of how much he appreciated a good drink as well, so long as he wasn't working. However, a little drink in him and he would be inspired to show off the 'lovely' singing voice of his. The crowing quickly spawned many-a-joke as well as my favorite nickname for him, the Nightingale.
So, here we were again, although the last time there had never been any reason to use the inner halls of the Black Dagger Inn. It was composed of those with complete loyalty to the crown and had been a safety for a good part of the past few decades. Victor knew of it oh too well, only, he had never had the privilege of visiting under necessary situations. It was only a matter of time until he found how we had left.
The full moon was shining brightly as we cautiously left into the side alley. The cold hit me instantly as my bare feet touched the stone and dirt. I couldn't help but look over at Naetalia quickly. She had pulled her hood up and was working on a pair of gloves. I hope she was warm enough.
We heard the guards from the front of the building and turned in the opposite direction.
.............................
The three figures continued down the narrow streets that were pressed between the old buildings. In almost no time, they had reached an open road some distance from the Inn. Dren paused briefly, turning to the younger man.
"Take her to Flint. I'll meet you there."
Kayell flashed a confused look at the man.
"He's still alive? I thought---"
"You should have learned by now, boy. It seems death is only an illusion around here."
The prince smirked casually and focused his attention to the direction they needed to head.
"I'd rather not push its limits today."
He looked back at Naetalia and smiled lightly.
"Keep close."
She nodded, trying to hide her nervousness. They turned away from the guide and ran down the street, trying to keep under as much cover as they could find. The moonlight wasn't doing much to help. The cold air seemed to encase her, refusing to lighten its grip. She clutched her coat tighter as she tried to keep the pace. She had fiddled with the gloves, but they had simply become to complicated to put on in the rush. The chill again brought her mind to the man next to her. Briefly, she noticed Kayell's bare feet. If she was freezing she couldn't imagine how he felt.
Quickly they turned down another corner, practically running into a thin, grungy man. His hair hung limply over his shoulders, greasy, or wet, she really didn't care what the difference was. Strong liquor seemed to stream off of him, tainting the air.
"Oy," he grumbled absently. He didn't seem to be able to focus clearly.
Naetalia felt a cold hand grip hers firmly. She allowed herself to be tugged around the drunk and continued to stay close to Kayell as they moved down the road. One more turn down a side street, and then he stopped suddenly.
......................
(Naetalia)
I practically ran into him when he stopped. I still couldn't feel comfortable after feeling how cold his hand was in mine. He was freezing, but he never said a word. His eyes remained focused, searching.
I heard a shout around the building and felt myself turn.
"Here, Tally."
Have I mentioned how nice his voice sounds? It is incredible how it was so different from the look alike.
Focusing.
He pressed against a brick, opening it to reveal an entrance into a dark room. My mouth opened in astonishment and annoyance.
"What on earth---does everything around here have a secret room or passage?"
Instantly, he moved a hand, covering my mouth. I didn't realize I said that so loudly. His hand was so cold, have I mentioned that? He glanced over me as I made my way inside. It looked like the inside of a storage unit, or a forgotten room perhaps. Shelves lined the dark room and although I couldn't see much, I could imagine from the smell there was a good deal of dust.
I turned at the sound of the door closing and instantly the room was purged into complete darkness.
"Kayell?" I whispered. Why did it have to be so dark? I could feel him moving past me, letting go of my hand.
............................
Dren cautiously stepped out, away from the wall. He spotted a man a little down the street, passed out on the ground. A bottle was lying nearby. He moved quickly, picking it up and taking a mouthful of what he could. He was just in time.
"Oy---you there---!"
The voice didn't seem to surprise him as he turned, appearing to try and focus on the guard.
"Get off the street!"
The guard backhanded the dark man, toppling him backwards...Dren made a movement as though he was attempting to stand before falling back down with a groan. He held the bottle firmly, as though it was his life.
"Mic, anything?" another voice called out.
"Just another damned drunk."
The guard, Mic, sneered in distaste as he casually pushed the man on the ground with his boot.
"Wish I could be doin' that 'bouts now, 'stead of being out here on some damned hunt."
Mic snickered at the other guard's remark.
"Well, we wouldn't have to if a certain someone could keep his woman in check."
The other guard groaned in annoyance.
"Let's just find her, stop fiddling with the drunks."
Mic leaned down, forcing the bottle from the fallen man with surprisingly little effort. He took a swig before tossing it onto the ground, a good distance away. Dren responded with some whimpering and made an exaggerated leap towards it.
"Pathetic," the guard muttered.
.............................
A.N.- I'm so sorry that I haven't been posting things. But I HAVE been writing, just, a lot of it is a little jumbled up atm. I have my final classes over these next couple of weeks, and things with work are slowing down a little, so hopefully I'll have more time to work on this and update more often =) and yes...I know, this seems more like a filler, but it's ALL part of the story.
It had been nearly six years since I had last seen Dren. It must mean that my mother realizes how serious the situation is. Unfortunately, I rarely was ever able to see him unless that was the case. It was around that time six years ago (What was I? 15? 16?) that there was an assassin out after my father and myself. It seems that such occasions happen often with royalty. With the help of Dren, we escaped with little trouble. It didn't take very long before the assassin was found and put to death.
He stayed with us, at the request of my father, for a year afterward, helping in my training. He was a rough one to get used to at first, but once you get past the shell of a personality he puts in front, he could be a loyal, caring friend. I had a lot of time to get used to him myself. He would drift in and out of our lives for as long as I could remember.
Heh, drifting---reminds me of how much he appreciated a good drink as well, so long as he wasn't working. However, a little drink in him and he would be inspired to show off the 'lovely' singing voice of his. The crowing quickly spawned many-a-joke as well as my favorite nickname for him, the Nightingale.
So, here we were again, although the last time there had never been any reason to use the inner halls of the Black Dagger Inn. It was composed of those with complete loyalty to the crown and had been a safety for a good part of the past few decades. Victor knew of it oh too well, only, he had never had the privilege of visiting under necessary situations. It was only a matter of time until he found how we had left.
The full moon was shining brightly as we cautiously left into the side alley. The cold hit me instantly as my bare feet touched the stone and dirt. I couldn't help but look over at Naetalia quickly. She had pulled her hood up and was working on a pair of gloves. I hope she was warm enough.
We heard the guards from the front of the building and turned in the opposite direction.
.............................
The three figures continued down the narrow streets that were pressed between the old buildings. In almost no time, they had reached an open road some distance from the Inn. Dren paused briefly, turning to the younger man.
"Take her to Flint. I'll meet you there."
Kayell flashed a confused look at the man.
"He's still alive? I thought---"
"You should have learned by now, boy. It seems death is only an illusion around here."
The prince smirked casually and focused his attention to the direction they needed to head.
"I'd rather not push its limits today."
He looked back at Naetalia and smiled lightly.
"Keep close."
She nodded, trying to hide her nervousness. They turned away from the guide and ran down the street, trying to keep under as much cover as they could find. The moonlight wasn't doing much to help. The cold air seemed to encase her, refusing to lighten its grip. She clutched her coat tighter as she tried to keep the pace. She had fiddled with the gloves, but they had simply become to complicated to put on in the rush. The chill again brought her mind to the man next to her. Briefly, she noticed Kayell's bare feet. If she was freezing she couldn't imagine how he felt.
Quickly they turned down another corner, practically running into a thin, grungy man. His hair hung limply over his shoulders, greasy, or wet, she really didn't care what the difference was. Strong liquor seemed to stream off of him, tainting the air.
"Oy," he grumbled absently. He didn't seem to be able to focus clearly.
Naetalia felt a cold hand grip hers firmly. She allowed herself to be tugged around the drunk and continued to stay close to Kayell as they moved down the road. One more turn down a side street, and then he stopped suddenly.
......................
(Naetalia)
I practically ran into him when he stopped. I still couldn't feel comfortable after feeling how cold his hand was in mine. He was freezing, but he never said a word. His eyes remained focused, searching.
I heard a shout around the building and felt myself turn.
"Here, Tally."
Have I mentioned how nice his voice sounds? It is incredible how it was so different from the look alike.
Focusing.
He pressed against a brick, opening it to reveal an entrance into a dark room. My mouth opened in astonishment and annoyance.
"What on earth---does everything around here have a secret room or passage?"
Instantly, he moved a hand, covering my mouth. I didn't realize I said that so loudly. His hand was so cold, have I mentioned that? He glanced over me as I made my way inside. It looked like the inside of a storage unit, or a forgotten room perhaps. Shelves lined the dark room and although I couldn't see much, I could imagine from the smell there was a good deal of dust.
I turned at the sound of the door closing and instantly the room was purged into complete darkness.
"Kayell?" I whispered. Why did it have to be so dark? I could feel him moving past me, letting go of my hand.
............................
Dren cautiously stepped out, away from the wall. He spotted a man a little down the street, passed out on the ground. A bottle was lying nearby. He moved quickly, picking it up and taking a mouthful of what he could. He was just in time.
"Oy---you there---!"
The voice didn't seem to surprise him as he turned, appearing to try and focus on the guard.
"Get off the street!"
The guard backhanded the dark man, toppling him backwards...Dren made a movement as though he was attempting to stand before falling back down with a groan. He held the bottle firmly, as though it was his life.
"Mic, anything?" another voice called out.
"Just another damned drunk."
The guard, Mic, sneered in distaste as he casually pushed the man on the ground with his boot.
"Wish I could be doin' that 'bouts now, 'stead of being out here on some damned hunt."
Mic snickered at the other guard's remark.
"Well, we wouldn't have to if a certain someone could keep his woman in check."
The other guard groaned in annoyance.
"Let's just find her, stop fiddling with the drunks."
Mic leaned down, forcing the bottle from the fallen man with surprisingly little effort. He took a swig before tossing it onto the ground, a good distance away. Dren responded with some whimpering and made an exaggerated leap towards it.
"Pathetic," the guard muttered.
.............................
A.N.- I'm so sorry that I haven't been posting things. But I HAVE been writing, just, a lot of it is a little jumbled up atm. I have my final classes over these next couple of weeks, and things with work are slowing down a little, so hopefully I'll have more time to work on this and update more often =) and yes...I know, this seems more like a filler, but it's ALL part of the story.