"You didn't cause too much trouble, did you, my lady?" asked one of the women picking corn. Autumn was here, and the frost would come soon. You could never tell in the mountains surrounding Airyglyph. Even the step like plains that they scraped out from the side of the mountain didn't stand a chance against the sudden winter winds that racked their mountain each year. At times like these, the only thing you could do was pray for Apris to keep the ground warm and for Aire to keep it fertile.

"No, not too much," Sabella said with a smile. She had her hair, black as soot, pulled back in a kerchief as she plucked the ripe corn from the stalks. She could feel the foreboding chill ruffle her plain brown work dress. "But seriously, those jerks who live in the capital need to stop worrying about politics and start thinking about what we are going to do over the winter."

"Matron!" a boy's voice yelled from over the hill connecting the village to the farmlands.

"What is it, Sinclair?" Sabella asked.

Sinclair, a boy no older than sixteen, gasped for air as he ran to them. "There is-puff- a strange man -wheeze- who arrived in the village. He was dressed in strange clothing with a spear. We are holding him captive inside the manor."

Sabella handed her basket of corn to her friend and walked over to the boy who kneeled in the pathway. She bent down and tenderly kissed him on the forehead. "You've done well, my son. Please, show me to him."

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The said man was sitting in a comfortable leather chair in a medieval sitting room. Everything looked very welcoming, save the guards who leered at him from the entrance. Under different circumstances, one might assume that he was a guest of a nobleman/woman, simply here for some idle chatter over tea and cakes. But, unfortunately, that wasn't the case.

Luther was royally pissed.

Actually, pissed didn't even put a dent in the range of emotions he felt with anger as a common ancestor. But most of all, Luther felt very insulted. There he was, going on his merry way, completely lost, utterly confused, and wondering why in the theoretical 9 rings of Hell his sister would send him to this rock, and he gets jumped by at least three-no, eight!- rogues and dragged here. They had the nerve to attack him and then make a sad attempt at redeeming themselves in the eyes of their Creator by offering him a comfortable place to sit in this prison.

Not to mention that it was cold, and smelly, and if someone didn't plug that leak in the northernmost corner, he would go postal on everyone in this village!

Drip. . ,

Drip. . .

Drip. . .

That's it! I'm leaving! Luther thought, unable to hide the look of sheer annoyance that managed to free itself from his previously pensive and, admittedly, bitchy mind. That was, of course, until she walked in.

That woman, with the seemingly ethereal air about her, had entered the room in an elegant navy evening gown. Everything was so silent. Her eyes weren't accusing like the others'. Although she wasn't increadibly beautiful, there was something different, something that transcends the realm of ones and zeroes, in the childishly curious glance that her dull grey eyes gave. She sat directly across him, and with a simple snap of her lace-clad fingers, a tray was rushed in by another one of the children that could be seen cleaning the place.

She grinned pleasantly. "Welcome to my humble home. Please help yourself to tea and cakes."

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He smells like pancakes. That was the first thought that crossed Sabella's mind. This was very strange, because he really didn't really smell like pancakes. It was more like the smell of the metal pan used to make them, or the industrial scent of Kirlsa. Perhaps that was what reminded her of pancakes. But now that she thought about it, it really didn't matter.

Perhaps he came from Kirlsa, or the area surrounding it? His strange draping robes of white, black and gold looked very unfamiliar to her, so she highly doubted it. The runological force surrounding him felt sterile or mechanical. The way his golden hair draped his face, effectively accenting his cerulean eyes, seemed too unreal, almost as if every part of him was manufactured by the gods themselves for maximum efficiency. He looked very skeptical, like he was appraising his surroundings for a menial sum of Fol. She now knew why her beloved guards were so apprehensive.

She sat her tea on a small coaster. "If I may ask you a personal question," she stared into his glaring eyes, "Where in your house is your alter?"

His face contorted into an arrogant smirk. "I have no need to bow down to gods," he said.

"You wretch!" shouted one of the guards, "How dare you speak so rudely to Lady Sabella!"

"It's alright, he's not our enemy," she replied, folding her fingers into a pensive arch over her lips, "Apparently he's from one of the heathen northern island countries. Aquarians all have alters to Apris in their homes, usually at the end of a main hallway. Glyphians, on the other hand, usually keep household alters in separate rooms. Since he doesn't recognize a higher power, he wouldn't be from our enemy's country. The strong scent of machinery and the high quality of his clothing must mean that he is a nobleman from an archepelago near Greeton. Am I correct?"

Luther was so tempted to say no and tell her his true origin. But, fortunately for him, she had uncontiously made a backstory for him.

He raised his glass of tea and bowed his head. "How very clever of you to figure out my tale. It is difficult to hide anything from you, Sabella. I am Luther, and as you say, I am a nobleman from a land to the far north of here." He could play along with her game. She seemed interesting enough, for a mere shred of data, that is.

"I welcome you to my humble town. I hope you enjoy your stay, because you won't be leaving for a while."

Luther snapped to attention. "What? Why not?"

Sabella allowed a small smile to play across her lips. "Well, although you are not from the enemy's kingdom, I can't completely trust you. The northern island countries are not increadibly rich, so the only way you could afford such expensive clothing is by trade. What's more, your most likely trade partners are Aquaria and Greeton, both of which are our enemies," she reached across the table and sympathetically patted Luther's leg (he really wanted to cut her hand off with his spear, but since he was in no predicament to attack her, he resulted to sulking) "I'm sorry. It's nothing against you, Luther. I'm sure you're a great person. If it helps, don't think of it as being held in captivity. Think of it more as. . .an extended vacation," she rose from her chair. "Now, you may walk around the village as you see fit, but you may not leave. The guards will make sure of that, so don't even try it. Dinner is at six, so don't be late. The maids will be happy to show you to your room and draw you a bath. I'm sure you must be very exhausted after your long trip. If you will excuse me, I have work to do." She gracefully glided across the floor and left Luther to continue his sulking.

He could escape, couldn't he? After all, he freaking created this world! Why should he have to listen to this mere program? He looked around his chair and realized that that woman stole his weapon while she walked out. Well, that would complicate things. Their AI certainly was advanced. (Of course they were! He made them!) They obviously didn't just attack blindly; not to mention that it had been a while since he was in the Eternal Sphere, so he was a bit out of shape. Taking on intelligent enemies in large numbers while unprepared and unarmed was just stupid. Luther sighed. Oh well. This was just a part of his game, anyway.

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Dinner was very tense. The food was decent, but Luther could feel the eyes of the serving maids and guards penetrate him. Sabella looked like she was thoroughly enjoying herself, though. She sat across from him in a typical noble's dining room; complete with portraits on the cold stone walls, as well as beautiful crimson rugs on the floor. She crossed her legs and playfully fanned herself while taking bite out of annoyingly peppy bite from her meal of. . .whatever it was they were eating. It looked like steak, but tasted completely different.

"So, are you enjoying your stay, Luther?" she asked cordially.

"Besides the fact that I'm staying in a cold, primitive, backwater hamlet like this against my will? Yeah, I'd have to say I'm just peachy," he replied venomously. She laughed.

"I know, it's not exactly the capital, but I tend to like the rustic feel of the place. If you don't feel the same way, I'd gladly take you to Airyglyph castle. They'll gladly give you a dank cell to live in, complete with hourly beatings by an overweight S&M maniac," she smiled dangerously. That smile made Luther uncomfortable. It felt too much like the shot of anesthesia that Earth doctors gave their patients before they operated on them.

She laughed again as he glared at the table for the rest of diner. He excused himself, saying that he was tired and wished to clean up before he went to sleep. She suggested putting bubbles in his bath, seeing as "They make it so much more fun!" If Blair didn't lock him into the system to make sure he took his well-needed vacation, he would have teleported out of here by now. He would later thank his sister for this, but that's for another time.

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Chapter 2! My, they don't seem to be getting off on the right foot, do they?

The Crazy Authoressess CAT and AMS: I hate term papers, especially on topics that you don't really care for. Oh well, what are you gonna do? XD I always thought that he would be much more loose around his sister, so I made him that way. Thanks, I worked really hard on character drafts for her. It took forever. . .0-0.

Blue Persuasion: There really aren't enough different pairings out there. All I usually see are Albel/Nel and Albel/Fayt (the lovable little slut that is our Alby!), so I like any new pairings. As you can see, I took your advice on Luther's personality in this chapter by making him a bit colder than the last one. The reason I put that comment was because most people judge him by the 5 minutes or so at the end of the game that you see him, so. . .yeah. :B

Anarchy Sky: Yus! We have all been touched by His Noodly Appendage!