*Chance Encounter*

Chapter 4: A Painful Story

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"The fairy beam upon you,

The stars to glister on you,

A moon of light,

In the noon of night,

Till the fired rake hath o'er-gone you.

The wheel of fortune guide you,

The boy with the bow beside you,

Run aye in the way,

Till the bird of day,

And luckier lote betide you." –Ben Jonson

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Raven set down the sterling tea tray with a soft clank on the table in the middle of the room. The people in the room, Lydia, Edgar, and the fairy-child all looked up. The currently nameless girl glancing only briefly upon his entering before returning her gaze embarrassed to her lap.

"Ah. Raven. We were waiting for you. You should be here for this as well." said the earl, turning once more to look at him before continuing the conversation. Lydia sent him a polite smile.

"Now, first of all you said your name was Lyra correct?" The girl nodded. "And what might your last name be?"

She swallowed and the stiff look in her eyes hinted at what was to come next. "I don't know. I never met my father."

Naturally, this stunned them. But recovering quickly, Edgar chose to glide over this fact by asking his next question.

"Well, that's not important. Lydia tells me that you carry fey blood. How is it that you came to be in your present condition?"

Lyra hummed nervously. "It's…a very long story. I'm afraid." Her tone told Raven that not only was it a long story; it was a very difficult story for her to tell. Raven could understand that. His own past was anything but unstained. The only people who he had told anything about it to were Lord Edgar, Miss Lydia, and his sister Ermine. The three people he was closest to.

"Raven, you may sit down. Sense you were the one who…err…found her, its only right that you listen as well."

"My Lord?" Raven said questioningly. He had learned that, being a servant, it was not proper etiquette for him to sit in the presence of his master. He would have much prefer standing but Edgar gave him a confirming nod and Raven stiffly sat down. Taking a seat a chair away from their guest. This was certainly unusual, but then, thought Raven, this entire situation was.

Lydia smiled encouragingly at the girl. "Please tell us whatever you can. We'll help if we're able to."

'These people', thought Lyra, 'They're so different from anyone else I have ever met. Especially from those people I was with before…"

She sighed inwardly. 'They're too trusting for their own good. Life is more dangerous than they might guess.'

Finally after a long pause she nodded.

And so she began her tale. She was a good story teller. Her eyes stayed partially closed staring at something else the entire time. He face showed no expression beyond a rare tightening of her lips, a furrow of her brow, or her hands being clenched tighter on her lap. Occasionally there would be a pause in her story as she gathered her thoughts. But other than that, it flowed relatively well.

She told them of how she had never known her father, and her mother, who had been killed along with her half brother when she was very young, only around seven, was the last family she had known. And the last link to her past. Her mother, named Sara, hadn't given her much information about her heritage. For instance, who her father was, stayed a mystery.

Lyra was certain that her mother was a complete human. However, her mother had dropped enough unintentional hints for Lyra to gather, that her father was not nearly normal. Lyra had guessed, and now knew, that she was the daughter of some other being. A fairy.

About a year after her mother died, a group of men found her, living alone on the street. She was starving, week, and hopeless. Being too young to get a real paying job, and having no known relatives, she had become a thief. They offered to take her in, saying that there 'master' was looking for a skilled servant. She complied, as naive and desperate as she was.

She was taken to their 'company house' which was really just a huge mansion which she suspected had previously been abandoned. She stayed there for years, becoming not only a more skilled thief, but also a true servant, and much more. As the years went on, she was sent on more important, and oftentimes dangerous, assignments. In all these nearly eight years, she had never once met the man she was ordered to refer to as master. All she knew was that he was the head of the organization, very powerful, and named William Hampton.

Then, after a mission in which she was directed to steal a seemingly dull looking old leather book, she was ordered to bring it to the master herself. When she arrived in his 'meeting room' she found a man in his mid-forties, with dark grey eyes and short cropped brown hair, sitting in a large chair that was clearly a cheep replica of a throne. Despite this, he sat with all the bearing of someone born to a real high class family.

"Ah. There it is. Bring it over." He ordered raising his arm and beckoning greedily for her to bring the volume over.

She slowly walked over and handed him the book, bowing quickly and turned to leave. But she was stopped by a fierce and sudden grip on her wrist as he reached out to grab her. "Wait a moment. You're that girl that joined us a few years ago aren't you. The one from South Haven. Lily was it?"

"Sir, its Lyra, Master Hampton."

He laughed, and in a tone at odds with his actions he replied in a disgustingly sugary polite voice. "Of course. You'll have to forgive me. With all the servants running around the place I find it hard to keep track of the names. Lyra then, why don't you stay here for a bit so you can see what's in this book of mine?"

She didn't want to. This was her first time meeting this man and already she despised him. Him and his horrible stench, like expensive cologne and something poison that had been sugar coated. Like Nightshade. She had come across that once, when she was living on the street. Vats of light green fluid that wafted a sickeningly sweet smell being sold on the black market. The Nightshade extract had been mixed with something sweet to mask the smell and the resulting poison could be spread on a knife, or slipped into someone's drink. It was an underhanded tool created specifically for killing people. The police shut the black market stall down in a few short days, but she could never forget the scent of the air wafting through the streets that day.

As he leaned down now waiting for her answer she could smell that scent and it made her nauseous. She nodded and he released his grip. She stepped back as far as she dared and resisted the urge to rub and scratch at her skin until the memory of his touch was erased.

"Good girl. Now, can you read?"

"No sir." She could read very well, her mother had taught her. But she chose to keep that a secret. Because in this place, knowledge was most definitely power and power was not something such people wanted to share.

She knew she had made the right decision by the pleased expression on his face. "Then I'll just read it for you Lyra."

'Stop saying my name' she pleaded silently in her head.

"Right here, ah yes, right here it says, 'Thou hast found this present tome. And so then, thine own self holds within thine hands, the key to the great commandship of this land Ibrazel's trove. If thou hast not the blood of the fey with thee now, then set away this sacred volume for at thy hands it not be used. Only if ye commandeer of the trooping good neighbors shall present thyself at the foot of the good Queen of the Faerie Isle Hy Ellyllon, or else if not, bring with thee thine own mortal blood and body as tribute, thou true willed fey servants at thou's right, and the heart-blood's protection blessed of the good-folk's, thou shall not pass it's borders, and wander without thine right as supposed heir to Castle Hy Ellyllon's riches, evermore.'

Lyra was naturally speechless. Those words seemed to get jumbled in her head, not more than a few of them making sense. Unfortunately Hampton noticed this and laughed.

"I wouldn't expect you to understand this. Luckily you don't have to. I have what I need. I'm going to read the rest now. You are dismissed."

Lyra nodded numbly and walked away.

"Oh. One last thing Lyra. Those ears of yours," He said gesturing with a smirk to her slightly pointed ears and leaning his chin on his fist. "You may want to keep them covered up from now on. We wouldn't want people finding out about my exotic little servant now would we? I have big plans for you my little imp."

She stared wide eyed and practically ran out the door. Leaving William Hampton to devour the rest of his book.

At this point in the story Edgar interjected. "Pointed ears?"

Lyra nodded and brushed her soft hair aside to reveal a pale pointed ear free of any jewelry.

"Come to think of it, she has green eyes too." Lydia said looking closer at the girls face. Then she turned to see Edgar staring curiously at her ear.

She swatted him away annoyed. "I don't have pointed ears Edgar."

During this little squabble no one noticed Raven staring very intently at the fey-child's eyes, his head cocked very slightly to the side.

'Green eyes?' he thought, 'I could have sworn she had hazel eyes when I first saw her. They had only a bit of green in them before, I'm sure of it.'

The quarrel settled, Lyra continued her story.

It was about a month later, and Lyra had begun to relax and forget the comment of Master Hampton. She was sleeping in her quarters one night when she heard some noise down the hall. Being a naturally light sleeper she instantly awoke and stepped out of her room for a moment to see what was going on.

She was grabbed from behind.

A rag was pressed to her mouth to muffle her scream. She tried to kick and claw at whatever was attacking her, even trying to bite the hand that held the rag to her mouth at one point.

Then she noticed the smell. The rag had apparently been dipped in some sort of chemical. She tried to only take shallow breaths threw her nose but she could feel her eyelids growing heavy. She knew she would pass out soon. One last frantic attempt at freeing herself, and she passed into darkness.

It was nearly dawn when she woke up.

Around three people where milling about the room. At least she thought it was three. Her head was still so foggy she couldn't even see the faces. Thankfully her head was clearing fast now and she caught a glimpse of Hampton's unmistakable figure. She tried to get up but saw that her legs and one arm were somewhat loosely (though tight enough to hold the half conscious prisoner) tied to a pole behind her with leather cord.

Unfortunately, her struggling brought everyone's attention to her and Hampton strode over to where she slumped.

"Oh dear, that wont do you any good. But don't worry; I'll have something better than rope to seize you in a moment."

One of the other men in the room walked over and placed a box of what looked like a cross between scientist and doctor equipment on the table.

"Ah here we are!" said the master with a happy smile pulling a gleaming knife with a stone handle out of the box. He began cleaning the blade with a piece of grey cotton before setting it down again on the table. He did the same to a glass vial, a tube, and a chemist bottle. Each time casting a glance at her as he did so.

"Alright dear," he said nearing her with the knife. She began to struggle against the bonds. She was getting that light, strong, and tingling feeling she got when she was in danger again. It was like an extreme surge of adrenalin.

"Oh no, now don't do that. I'll admit this will hurt but just comply little imp, and we can get it over with. Soon you'll be my personal little fey; my own little servant from the land Ibrazel. Isn't that what your sprite is supposed to do? Comply with orders? Ah yes, I see your reaction. You didn't realize I knew about that did you? Or is it possible you yourself didn't know? What a pity. And such a useful power too." He rubbed his thumb over the smooth gem that puckered the hilt's surface.

He was lifting the knife to her flesh. She was still struggling.

"Remember that book I read to you from? Remember the servant? I said 'If thou hast not the blood of the fey with thee now, then set away this sacred volume for at thee's hands it not be used. Only if ye commandeer of the trooping good neighbors shall present thyself at the foot of the good Queen of the Faerie Isle Hy Ellyllon, or else if not, bring with thee thine own mortal blood and body as tribute, thou true willed fey servants at thou's right, and the heart-blood's protection blessed of the good-folk's, thou shall not pass it's borders, and wander without thine right as supposed heir to Castle Hy Ellyllon's riches, evermore.'"

He stopped for a second to lean down and look into her eyes.

"You see little imp, the only way I, a human, can get my hands on the legendary treasure and soldiers of the Isle Hy Ellyllon, and much more importantly power of Hy Ellyllon is if I either sacrifice myself, quite defeating the purpose, or bring some commoner fairy, completely loyal only to me, and with very special blood, as a sacrifice. He leaned in and she could smell his sulfuric scent, it made her want to gag.

"That servant would be you my dear."

She struggled furiously, crying out and screaming, "I won't follow you! Get away!" The scalpel was suddenly knocked out of his hands and nearly cut him in the process. His face dropped, revealing his true nature. His face extended in a grimace he grabbed her wrist and, lifting it until her bare feet barely touched the floor he took up the knife again and in one swift motion cut a long gash in her forearm. She cried out as he poured the blood from the wound into a vial. She had never bled so much. She caught a glimpse of her red blood glittering like a jewel in the vial, and suddenly she was on the floor twisting in agony as her blood, not just from her freshly induced wound, but from every scrape, bruise, and cut on her body, began to seep out. He stood over her laughing. Then he forcefully tilted her head up by her chin and staring her in the eye coldly said "It is not your choice to make my dear."

He turned to the tall man besides him, the one who had gagged her.

"Samson. What was that…errand that you wanted preformed. I remember you asking something about an overdue loan?"

She couldn't make out the next few words, because she had set sight on all the blood. She had avoided looking at it until that point, but now that she had, the entire room was spinning.

"Ah. Then it's settled then." He clapped his hands together. "He turned to Lyra again. "I have the perfect little test run for you, little imp." He grinned. She smelled the tobacco on his breath as it mixed with the smell of her own blood. She gritted her teeth and forced herself to stare unwaveringly at his face. Letting her emotions poor like steam from her.

"Sir?" One of the men interrupted.

"What?" Hampton snapped back, obviously displeased with the interruption.

The man answered in a less self-assured voice than before. "If you send her in this state, Master Hampton, she won't be much use. She might even get herself killed and waste all the effort we've put in so far…Sir.

At this Hampton made a sound somewhere between a grumble and a sigh.

He turned back to me.

"Well little imp. I guess I'll have to postpone my test run." He sighed dramatically. "And I was so looking forward to testing out my new weapon too. Oh well. Until tomorrow. Imp."

She knew she would never again hear her name from his lips.

It was two days later. She felt like she was falling apart. Her spirits rotated between incurable depression and unrestrainable rage.

Then they came for her.

She was dragged, clawing and even biting, to the library once again. She might have laughed at how circumstances had changed sense her last visit, if the situation had been much, much different.

This day however, would contain the moment that she would learn of her sprite. A spirit that lived in her very blood.

At these words Raven's eyes shot open. Even Edgar and Lydia stared at him in surprise. But they said nothing and the girl was so absorbed in her story that she didn't notice.

She was forced to wait, tied up, between two armed guards until Master Hampton chose to make his appearance. After much prying her guards finally told her that she was going to be responsible for robbing an old man of money. According to Hampton, the old man had been loaned a large sum of his money. And in failing to return it, deserved to die. Lyra's orders were to go into his house and, if there was nothing of value there to use as repayment, to kill the man as punishment.

Seconds later Hampton emerged from a huge doorway and confirmed her fears. In an undeniably inconsiderate way. She suspected he was drunk again.

Lyra was appalled. She had stolen before. Her job, at that place, included among other things: house servant, robber of strange items, spy, messenger, and later a specialty envoy -or more adequately put-weapon (during which time she was sent to carry out orders that mostly included acquiring sketchy information). But this task was new. She had never murdered before. She refused.

That's when it happened. Suddenly he pulled out a knife and cut a small crease in her palm, 'just as a reminder' he would later state. She squealed in rage and fear as he pulled out the vial. And suddenly she was on the floor twisting in pain once again as all the blood in her body began to burn. She could swear she felt flames licking across her skin. He stood over her smirking in pleasure. For a split moment the pain subsided (or perhaps she just was in shock to the point of being numb) just enough for her to prop herself up, leaning heavily against a wall and gripping at the siding of the doorway to hold herself upright. She glared at him and whispered an unintelligible voice "What did you do to me?"

He walked over to her, still grinning.

She spat out the stubbornly defiant words "I won't," She huffed, trying to regain her breath "do anything you say!" Then hissed from the surge of pain.

His footsteps stopped as he came before her. Then very slowly he forcefully tilted her head up by her chin and staring her in the eye coldly said "It is not your choice to make my dear. You will do as I say." He let her head fall with a thud against the wall and told her to get going

And she did. Her body was practically moving on its own as she walked out the door. Tears were streaming down her face as her will escaped her grasp. And she learned what the word slave really meant.

But she did not kill that day. There was a very nice golden necklace to save her the guilt of that man's life.

Here Lyra paused in her story. Staring dawn at her lap, her head bowed. They all just sat in solemn silence as she regained herself and continued slowly and without emotion.

She was tortured in the next few months. Naturally she tried to run away. But each time he called her back before she could get more than a mile or two away. It was the worst feeling she could ever imagine to have her will torn away. If she fought, she bled. If she complied, it took almost total control of her body. All she could do was wait for her personal dooms day. This, she knew, would come, as soon as he found the last piece of his puzzle. Whatever that could be.

But one day she was serving wine to Hampton and a visiting acquaintance of his. They were quite drunk by this point and she dearly wanted to disappear into her quarters. She quickly filled their wine-cups, and scurried away. That's when she heard them.

"Yah," he had said drunkenly to his equally intoxicated drinking partner, "I found th' little whelp a year after I had 'er mother killed. It was a luck-y break it wa-! Just when I needed one of them fairies too. She 'as some of them's blood in 'er though from that father of 'er's. But now I can use it all I want an' I got myselfff…a good slavey!" There was a huge burst of laughter from the table. "An' I was gonna kill 'er dammed mother anyway! I was gonna do that anyway since the woman knew too…much! Just you wait Charlie-! I'm gonna be richer than the king! And twice as powerful!

That was the night she ran. Something had stirred in her. She could not, no matter what, stay with the people who had killed her mother. A burning inside her told her she wanted that man dead, but she knew her only chance was running now.

And besides, even when drunk, he was guarded. So somehow, with the utmost miraculousness, she did escape. And for a wile, she convinced herself she was free. It was a year later that the burning came, along with news of the Hampton Group nearing the town she was staying in. Next came the blood. She had been wandering from town to town, always on the move for almost a year. The question of why he hadn't called her beyond a gentle tugging always nagged her. She had met some nice people, but always had had to leave or else risk endangering them and herself. She would not allow herself to be captured again. But little by little in this time, she remembered how to be human.

She had run. Tried to put as much distance between herself and the place she had been chained to for so long as possible. But now here she was, running again. The next day after the blood she became week. And the fifth day, she collapsed.

"And that's when you brought me here." She said looking at Raven.

Every single person in the room stared in complete and utter shock. This lasted a long time. Finally Lydia broke the silence.

"You've been through quite a lot." She gave Lyra a sympathetic look.

Then Edgar broke in. "But why did you follow Raven?"

Lyra looked at him softly, remembering.

"I guess my sprite -the one who lives in me- sensed something about him. I could feel myself being pulled in that direction before I even saw him. But I was too scared to go up to him until he saw me." She continued mumbling the last part. "I don't have the best experiences with people." She chuckled without meaning.

"…Well." said Lydia. "I think that that's quite enough action for you today. The doctor said you should still be resting. Why don't you go back to bed for a wile?"

Lyra looked confused for a moment, and her head cocked quizzically to the side. "But I'll be fine. The blood wounds take a wile longer to heal than normal injuries, but I didn't die from them when they were fresh, so I should be fine."

This sort of statement, coming from a girl who had just recently passed out from blood loss (although it made sense that she wasn't used to being pampered), was a little difficult to respond to. So understandably, Lydia was a bit fazed. And as usual this didn't fail to show on her face.

"Err…But still…"

"Miss Lyra-san. If you'll come with me I'll show you back to your room for this evening." Raven said politely.

"Umm…is i-" Lyra began unsurely, but was cut off by Edgar tapping Lydia on the shoulder. "Lydia, can you come with me? I'd like to ask you about something."

"S-sure."

The remaining two looked on silently for an instant as the door silently shut behind the caramel haired lady. Then Raven repeated, gesturing towards the opposite door.

"Miss Lyra-san?"

"Y-yes." Lyra stood up carefully, hanging on loosely to the chair arm for support as she rose.

"Follow me please, Miss Lyra-san."

A few minutes later (spent in silence) they arrived in the fairy-child's quarters.

Raven went over to the bedside table and began preparing her medicine and another cup of chamomile tea quietly.

The silence was finally broken by Lyra.

"Uh- Umm..?"

"Yes?"

"I never really thanked you for helping me before…so…Thank you." She was truly sincere, but the words felt awkward on her tongue. She had never had much practice in thanking people before, courtesy of her background. But she knew that without this man, that she would most likely be dead right now.

Raven too was a bit uncertain of how to respond to this.

So as usual, he bowed, replied humbly with the equivalent of 'It was my duty', and left bidding her goodnight.

She stared at his retreating back until it disappeared, and laid down in the bed. Sleep took her quickly and her dreams came to greet her.

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A/N: Oh my God! This was sooo long. Longer for me than it was for you people. I couldn't decide between two back stories, so I typed up both of them and made Heze-chan (thank you Hezerai!) read them both and help me pick one. Although I'm still a little dissatisfied… This chapter was difficult to write and I am so afraid that her story is cliché. Please give me your opinions. If people don't like it I will rewrite it and republish this chapter. Also, for those of you who didn't figure it out, Begin Explanation: Lyra has a sprite similar to Raven's. And when Hampton took some of her blood, he took control of her through the sprite. He's planning to use this power to force her to come and be a "willing" sacrifice when he goes to the Isle of Hy Ellyllon. He cast some sort of spell from the book on her blood wile she was unconscious so that he would be the sprites master so long as he had some of her blood. Thankfully he still needs to figure out some other part of the books requirements before he can go claim possession of the island. End explanation. And don't worry. There will be more Raven in the next chapter. I wouldn't dare neglect him. He was going to be a lot more in this chapter, but it ended up being to long, and I'm lazy so…Hahaha. Oh and one last thing, thank you so much Heze-chan for putting up with my endless questions relating to your opinions on the story and your much-needed guidance in the back-story and Leeann-chan for giving me ideas and encouragement to update. Lizzybee, Lizzyhearts, and NekoHime, thank you so much for reviewing. Until next time my wonderful readers! Review! Or I won't know you read it!