Captive

"Please accept my thanks for your assistance, good knight. Might I ask your name?"

"Did you see a jar in there somewhere?"

"A... Jar? Wait, why would you venture here in the first place?"

"I made a bet."

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Anxiously, she rapped the end of a pen against the work table infront of her. A crack had formed around the middle of the writing instrument, and it would have probably snapped clean in half and gotten black ink all over her Aketon had someone not come to knock on her door that instant. Instead, she threw it and it snapped against the wall of her home. She ran to the door and opened it, not waiting for her Moogle to greet her guest.

"Oh praise Altana. Aleous, what news?" Anatares breathed, embracing the Hume. He was only a head shorter than her, and wore a Kingdom Aketon not unlike her own. She released him and backed up a step.

Slowly, he removed his feathered red hat and held it in gloved hands infront of her. His eyes could not bear to meet her own. "According to my friends in Bastok, he's been sent on a fool's errand into the heart of Quadav territory." Anatares brought her hands to her face. "I suspect... He will be in the heart of Beaudeaux, if he yet lives."

Anatares drew a deep breath, placing her hands on her friend's shoulders. Several moments passed before he could bear to look at her face. Several more passed as her expression changed subtly from worrisome and grieving to focused and serene.

The silence was abruptly ended when she walked purposefully to the table and started throwing things into bags. She held up vials of dark oils, checking to see if they were securely sealed before throwing them almost recklessly into her pack.

"What are you doing?" Aleous asked from where he stood. As soon as he spoke the words, he understood. He strode across the room to where she stood. "You can't go alone, it's too dangerous. Let me come with you."

"No." In a flash she had stopped him with a hand to his shoulder. "I need to do this."

"Why?"

"Because," she breathed. "I need to discover something for myself."

"Ana-"

"Do you recall how he and I met?" she snapped.

Aleous was surprised at her sudden hostility. After a pause he shook his head in the negative.

"I was lost in Davoi. He had been fighting for a while and looked a mess, so I cast a Cure spell on him when another Orc discovered him resting. He didn't thank me, nor even look in my direction, not that I expected him to. If asked he would likely say he didn't need it. But soon I found myself low on magic, my generosity had nearly cost me my life. He appeared out of nowhere and cut down an Orc about to strike me. I managed to roll away and drink an Ether, and together we escaped. He saved my life that day."

"Ana..."

"I need to see his fate for my own eyes, and even the score if I can."

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All he could understand at first was the immense pounding in his head. Slowly, agonizingly, he recognised the presence of voices around him, speaking in organized grunts. He tried to shift, but even the smallest amount of effort was met with pain. A gutteral, raspy laugh erupted behind him, and it took him a moment to acknowledge that a foot had struck his back. Another moment later, he noticed his armour and weapons had been removed, and his lips were coated in a layer of his own blood.

The men were lost, and he was next.