The battle on Neralas peak had been quick with few casualties. The reappearance and escape of Lyon with Renais's sacred stone meant the continuation of the journey through Rausten to the Darkling woods.

It had taken days of careful walking to reach the bottom of the mountain and from there, a week of non-stop travelling to reach Rausten court, the most weary taking it in turns to sleep in the wagon.

Vanessa, whose leg was still healing, had ridden in the wagon the entire time, with nothing to do but brood over what Franz had told her. So Forde had an eye for beauty did he? It did not surprise her, but since Syrene's arrival, Vanessa had been pushing the knowledge to the back of her mind, hoping that Forde's initial feelings might pull through. Forde certainly hadn't visited her while she was injured, so it seemed that they hadn't.

Beauty.

The one thing that Vanessa was sure that she did not have a lot of. She gazed out the large window that was situated opposite her strangely soft bed. Rausten court had been large enough for every warrior to have his or her own room. It was a clear night; no smoky clouds obscured the cold stars. Everything seemed beautiful in the world at that moment, except her. Her sister, her fellow fighters, the sky, the night, the earth. Everything but her.

Earlier in that evening, Vanessa had tried to improve her features with some oils from her sister and from within the castle. But all that she made was a mess. So now she sat, shoulders sagging, hair an oily tangle, feeling most unlike herself than she had ever felt.

She sighed, closed her eyes and kneaded her temples for a little while before picking up a towel, a loose shirt, pants, the crutch given to her by some of the Rausten servants and a bar of soap and leaving her room, shutting the door behind her.

Once in the dark corridor, she turned not towards the baths but towards the door leading outside. There was a nearby spring that wasn't used for drinking water, making it the perfect place to sit beneath the sky and muse.

Despite the clear night, it was pleasantly warm outside, the cool grass rustling as Vanessa's bare feet and crutch glided through it. She managed to find an area of the spring with a soft current, a moderate depth, and cover behind bushes thick with leaves.

Vanessa glanced around to make sure there was no one around, although she doubted anyone would be; she had stayed up brooding for a long time. She slipped off her armour, her skirt, the thick, blood stained bandages and waded out into the stream till the crisp water was just above her waist. Taking the soap, she washed the unnatural oils from her hair along with the sweat and blood that had stuck to her skin. With every scrub, she felt an emotional release as well as a physical one. She washed her face last, the cool water washing away the part of her that was jealous of her sister and upset at what she wasn't, leaving only herself.

Feeling as rejuvenated as she would have after a long night's sleep, Vanessa waded out of the stream, onto the bank, where she dried herself and pulled on the loose clothes. She tested her wounded leg gingerly. It still ached a bit but the rest after sustaining it had helped a great deal.

Now clean, the cool air enveloped her, slowing her heart, bringing sleep. Vanessa picked up her crutch and began returning to the castle, zigzagging across the lawn in her tiredness. She was close to falling asleep right there on the grass when she walked straight into something very solid.

Compared to her other landings, this fall was much more pleasant with the grass and soft earth catching her. Looking up, by the moonlight and the male "oof" that she had heard when she walked into the person told her exactly who it was.

Forde.

When he had seen who it was, Forde offered her a hand up, which she took.

"I see that I wasn't the only one out enjoying the beautiful evening"

Beautiful. Vanessa felt a ripple in her calm pool of emotion. She tried to hold it back.

"It certainly is pleasant" she replied with partially forced calmness.

"So how are you? Syrene told me about your leg."

Syrene. The ripples became larger.

"Did she now?"

"Yeah, she's told me a lot of things about herself and you. You're so different, in a nice way though"

Different

"Really? What else did my sister say?" Vanessa snapped, "You must know, considering how much time you've spent with her."

Forde looked taken aback.

"What's wrong?"

"Oh don't play dumb"

"What is it? I have no idea what you're talking about!"

Vanessa burst. Her mends that the wash in the spring had sewn now tore.

"We both know that my sister is better suited for you than we are! She's more confident, more fun and not to mention prettier!"

Forde looked as though he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Whoa calm down Vanessa"

"Why should I be calm for you?"

"Think about it, you knew that I was interested in you in the beginning right? Before Syrene came, right?" Forde began in a logical voice.

"Yes" Vanessa said coldly, folding her arms across her chest, leaning on one leg.

"Well," he continued, "has there been any sign that my feelings have changed? Have there? Any signs that I haven't been loyal to my feelings for you?"

Vanessa laughed coldly.

"Loyalty? Loyalty? You've shown about as much loyalty as Grado did to Renais, I'm expecting an invasion any day now."

As soon as she said it, Vanessa knew she had gone too far.

She gasped and looked quickly at Forde's face. He had gone as rigid as a stone statue. The light seemed to have gone out behind his usually shining eyes.

They stared at each other. Vanessa's raging storm had abated and left only a mess.

After what seemed to be a century of cold stares and silence, Forde motioned to Vanessa to follow him. It wasn't an offer. She walked behind him, having trouble keeping up with his fast pace. She tried to say something but nothing seemed right, so she remained silent. He led her into the stables, a few of the horses stirred as they walked past to where the saddles were kept. Forde silently found his and rummaged around in one of the pockets. Vanessa stood silently, guilt gnawing at her flesh.

At last Forde found what he was looking for. He walked stiffly outside, into the moonlight, something clasped in his hand. Vanessa followed.

She stood beside him. He looked into her eyes with his, his eyes that usually sparkled with delight and amusement, stared at her coldly now. He showed her what he was holding: a small roll of canvas.

He unrolled it and held it up for her to see.

"I would like you to meet the woman I fell in love with. I don't know where she has gone. Perhaps you could help me find her again?" he whispered.

Vanessa could only stare.

It was a painting. Of her. It was a painting of her grasping a spear in a battle ready position, but with a soft, vulnerable look in her face. It was incomplete; portions of her green hair remained uncoloured.

Vanessa took a deep breath.

"I don't know what to say."

"You could tell me what happened to you. You seem convinced that I'm attracted to beauty and flair. Well, you're right, but I didn't find you attractive because of your body or face. I fell in love with your seemingly hard shell but gentle spirit. Now all I see is a paranoid, jealous, brooding mess! This painting is a lie, a lie that I want nothing to do with."

He let the canvas fall from his hand; it would've hurt less if he had thrown it. He then turned and stomped back into the castle, out of sight by the time the painting touched down the ground.

Vanessa didn't know how long she stood there before walking silently back to the castle, leaving the painting in the dirt to be blown into the spring by the wind. Sleep was out of the question now.