Tavington was a very quick thinker, and, based on his knowledge of the Briquet De Vie, came up with a plan at once on how to carry out Lord Cornwallis' bidding. He took a prisoner captured from a raid, and stood him up against a wall.
"Soldiers take aim," he said carelessly; "ready..."
"FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, DON'T! PLEASE!" the prisoner cried.
"Fire."
Six gunshots echoed around and left a ringing silence within the group. The prisoner lay lifeless on the ground with blood spilling from every wound, leaving crimson trails on his body and the ground.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"They did it on purpose, my lady." said a boy's voice; "Should we go?"
Silence followed this. Someone shifted in a chair.
"What was the name of the deceased?" A female voice asked.
"Charles Omyra, my lady." The boy replied.
There was another moment's silence.
"It was his time." the female voice replied. "I'll go."
Another much younger voice piped up, "Oh, my lady, can't I take this one? Please?"
"No," an older male voice replied; "you are too troublesome. You lost us a spirit last time and-"
"Aziz, you shame yourself!" admonished the female. "It was not Aaron's fault that one of our own was poisoned to another side. Aaron is the same way you were when you were only just starting out at this."
Then, speaking to the boy, she said, "Aaron, this is a dangerous one, and I will not permit you to risk your life for it. Next time, if it is safe, you may try again.
Then, without another word, she disappeared.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Ten more minutes and we will leave." Tavington said.
He and his men had been waiting around the dead prisoner for at least an hour and a half. A couple of soldiers had been whispering amongst one another, but with a death threat from their commander, they fell silent.
Nearly ten minutes later, they were still waiting; Tavington was about to give up and call it quits when a sweeping sound met his ears. Many men shrank back as she came into view. Tavington's body stiffened, his muscles so tense they almost hurt. It was at this time that he knew that what he had seen and experienced as a young boy was no mirage. He had seen a Briquet De Vie.
The being before them floated over to the body, unaware of her surroundings. Tavington motioned for his men to make their moves. He stood up and she gazed at him, a fierceness in her eyes as she refused to be deterred by the power displayed by Col. Tavington and his Green Dragoons.
"Good evening," Tavington purred evilly; "we've been expecting you."
She only stared as more men gathered around her, swords and guns raised and pointed. Tavington took in her features. She wore a white cloak and under that, a white dress which had gold outlining her collar and making up her belt which wrapped around her waist and went down the middle of her dress. Strapped to her belt was a silver, curved sword, with a hilt that looked to be made of fine white marble. There seemed be a glow around her. Her stare was mesmerizing.
"Are all your kind so hypnotizing to look at?" Tavington asked.
"Do you not realize what is happening to you as you look at me?" She asked, her voice sounding like a distant echo. "You stare so carelessly, and don't even realize that by doing so, you are giving your life to me,and thus slowly dying from it."
The colonel quickly averted his gaze.
"By order of Lord General Cornwallis, you are hereby under arrest." He commanded. "You will come quietly, or dead. Either way, I have no preference."
"Though I choose not to, even if I chose not to go quietly, you could not kill me." She replied. "For I am but a spirit, and therefore, cannot be killed by any mortal weapon that you or your men possess."
"Well then, you will come quietly, or I will let my men have you." Tavington said, beginning to get irritated.
"I hate you." she hissed.
"Many people do." Tavington purred his words maliciously. "But in case you haven't noticed, it doesn't phase me one bit."
He grabbed her arm and felt a lump growing beneath his hand. He yanked up her sleeve and then suddenly jerked away. A chalk-white swervy line went slithered up her arm and out of sight. He had seen that once before, but it was a different Briquet De Vie, and the line was black, not white.
"You remember.." she whispered to the colonel. "You remember that night. The night of your father's death, and the night that bore the Briquet De Phantom.."
Col. Tavington looked at her shocked and horrified. The soldiers pushed past him, and he watched with wide eyes. He remembered her.
You're safe now... sleep, young Tavington...
He had never forgotten that voice; and now, he had just captured the owner of it.