The rebels had seemed to panic, going berserk and arguing loudly with each other once Caleb told them what happened. Nothing was taken lightly in the rebellion and for Caleb; one of their best fighters, to be knocked unconscious by a girl in allegiance with Phobos was hardly expected, striking worry through the ranks. Most of the young men, around Caleb's age, declared they should go investigate the area, claim it, and had marched off before the Elders silenced everyone, stopping them in their tracks and getting them to turn around and listen to their decision. Everyone respected the Elders, many being part of the fighters who started the rebellion against their Tyrant Prince. The soldiers grew silent, awaiting their words of wisdom. "Show us the girl." They commanded and Caleb jumped to get some paper. He was going to do what he did best. Draw.

He drew out the area, marking everything and explaining what happened again and where. And then, he drew the girl; making sure to capture every inch of detail he remembered and put it into her image. He, for some reason, refused to let her be seen as anything less than what she was. Though Caleb wasn't sure what she was, he knew she was powerful, someone that shouldn't be made fun of or taken as a joke. She was someone who was to be respected and he made sure she radiated that, even on paper. He put in her tensed shoulders; a sign she was alert, her creased jacket that had led to folded arms; a sign of her firm nature and silent irritation that she had voiced in low grumbles, slightly raised heels, adorned in white shoes of an odd nature with laces; a sign she was nervous as she bounced on her feet. And then, he presented it.

Caleb awaited their decision; their answer, as he leaned on the table with both hands, watching as his drawing was passed along both sides before passed back to him. "Well," their leader Aketon, started. Caleb's eyes met his and immediately, he knew they didn't know her. Aketon was Aldarn's father, Aldarn being Caleb's best friend and partner in many raids and attacks on the palace. He was a good friend, useful, but had never been helpful in these situations with his father, Aldarn was never sure of Aketon's reaction. But over time, Caleb had learned to read not people's faces, though he could accomplish that as well, but he read their eyes. He had learned it was needed in certain situations, when faces were an empty canvas waiting for an emotion to be falsely painted on. The eyes were what held the real emotion, the real picture, the real art. "We do not know her, Caleb." There were mutters of reassurance, promising they'd help him avenge his pride, but Caleb found he cared more about finding her, knowing who she was then avenging his wounded ego. Bidding his leaders a goodbye, he left the room, pushing through the hordes of rebel crowds with the picture still ensnared in his grasp. "Maybe the other troops…"

****Rebel Fire****

Caleb wandered through the ranks of the rebellion for hours, mainly focusing on ex-spies and scouts who had visited the castle. If she was an ally of Phobos she would most likely live in the castle like the others. But she wasn't like the others…she was something more; different. So maybe she wouldn't stay in the castle…Either way, no one had recognised her, but Caleb supposed he couldn't be too angry. The rebellion made sure to remember faces and names; people of importance to Phobos; allies and enemies. Caleb only knew she was an ally to the Tyrant; a servant of his, making her their enemy. But he didn't have a name or a face or a ranking of importance, just that she was an ally. Every man he showed the image to shook their head, much like the Elders had, before complementing the sketch and walking off to tend to their duties. It was nothing new to the rebels that Caleb could draw; it was a well-known fact that was used to their advantage, but the detail in his sketch was unheard of. Never had he been quite as dedicated to one piece, drawing merely being a pass-time, and the rebels seemed to realize that, as well as the importance this girl, this mystery seemed to have gained not only with Phobos but with Caleb. This girl, in the few moments they had spent interacting, had made her mark on Caleb, made him want to find her. But the troops had no knowledge of the girl; they weren't of any help.

In a last desperate attempt to find information among his men, Caleb ransacked his brain for numerous spies who still worked in the palace and were in the base on temporary leave. And then the answer hit him; quite literally, as a poster with a poorly drawn out blue man's face flew into Caleb, carried along one of the gusts of wind coursing through the Infinite City. "Vathek," Caleb muttered, turning around and sprinting towards the entrance to the city. He knew Vathek was only here for a short time frame to give information to the rebels about the guards' shifts before the next raid. If he was to ask the man before his next visit, in two weeks' time, he would have to catch him before he left for the castle. He would have to ask him now.

Caleb scrambled up the stairs, pushing men out of the way as he ran towards the light of the entrance. "Vathek!" he hollered, reaching the last turn as he tripped and tumbled his way up; green marble steps digging into his legs, no doubt going to bruise him. "Vathek, wait!" He called. His grip on the picture was still like a viper's, tight and unyielding. He had no doubt that it was going to look crumpled, creased and scrunched up once he released it from his hands, but he was desperate to catch Vathek and show him, too desperate to care about how the picture looked as long as the girl was discernible. "Caleb?" A voice replied, deep and rough, as a large man, almost ogre like in appearance, appeared in front of him, different white markings covering blue skin. "What is it, Caleb?" Thrusting the picture into his hand as he bent over his knees, hands clutching them in support, as he panted heavy hot breaths, he choked out, "Do…you know…her?" He wasn't expecting an answer as his brown locks covered his face, green eyes shut closed as he steadied his heart. He normally wasn't one to do this kind of thing; to run around asking about a girl, but this felt important to him, though for what reason he was still unsure of. Vathek took in the picture carefully, feeling his eyes widen at the girl's stature before the face seemed to appear before him as well. "She's—she's… how do you know her?" Vathek stammered, looking fearful as Caleb glanced up at him. "You know her?" The man nods his head, clearly intimidated. "Do the other villagers know her?" "They all fear her, Caleb. They fear her as much as they fear the Tyrant."