A/N: Translations in (-).
I created the Auriel language, and I will explain all I can about it as we go. I provide translations to the phrases and words I use. However, there isn't always a word in our language that can literally translate, so the translations provided are generally as close as one can get to the meaning behind the words.
If you have any questions, I will be happy to answer.
Thane had dealt with Auriels before. He knew better than most how difficult they were to find if they didn't want to be caught. This one, it would seem, would be no different.
Due to his previous experience with Auriels, limited though it may be, Shepard had picked Thane to aid the search for the mysterious Auriel. Miranda, with her file-based knowledge of the target and race in general, was serving as back-up.
Aria T'Loak had said that someone befitting Clarell Di'Raevus's description had been seen a few times around Omega within the last two weeks. Most of the sightings were within the walls of Afterlife, an uncommon place for an Auriel to frequent.
Thane had heard of Clarell Di'Raevus before. She was among the highest ranking Auriel fighters still in existence. She was well-known among the populace, though few had ever knowingly seen her before. He knew that her position commanded the utmost respect among her people. He just hoped that Shepard was aware of that as well.
Thane was surveying the dance floor when he noticed Shepard approach from the direction of the bar, his confident swagger not betraying any intent other than a casual visit to the club.
"Any sign of her yet?" the commander asked, sidling up to Thane's side as if they were old friends. You'd never know that they had met only five days prior.
"No," Thane replied quietly. "Perhaps she's made her way to the VIP room."
At that they turned and headed quickly toward the exit, Shepard telling Miranda to abandon her post at the transport and to meet them at the VIP entrance.
Shepard's knowledge of Auriels was about as limited as his knowledge of Vorcha biology. However, even he knew how strange it was for one to be anywhere near a place like Omega. Auriels were good Samaritan-types, generally abhorring places like it. They would only come to a place like this for one reason.
" I wonder what she's doing…" Shepard mumbled.
Thane's answer was blunt, matter-of-fact.
"Hunting."
Light, seductive steps; heel clad feet and long violet legs, bared from a slit that started at one curved, swaying hip. Lithe, shapely body draped in a floor-length, black gown that was almost a second skin. Front covered from shoulders to hands. Violet back exposed almost to the point of being immodest. Long, dark purple hair pulled into a fierce ponytail with just the slightest lift at her hairline.
This was a woman that was dressed to kill, and Vance Otwell could see it.
From the moment she had entered the room, she had the attention of everyone in it. The people that regularly claimed the VIP room of Afterlife were always wary of anyone that entered the space. She commanded the attention of everyone – save for the few that wouldn't be swayed by a pretty face – for an entirely different reason. Males and females from every species openly ogled the moving work of art that was the beauty drifting through the crowd. It was rare to see an Auriel on Omega; even more so to see one at a place like Afterlife.
With one coy look across the crowd, the Auriel sashayed toward the bar and the Afterlife VIP room returned to its normal state of chaos.
However, Vance Otwell would not be so easily distracted.
He watched the purple-skinned goddess order a drink – a shot of Asari liquor, by the look of it – that she downed quickly, before whispering to the bartender. With a wink, she stepped away from the bar; a heavy, electric beat picking up where the last riff left off.
Even though she wore a lovely, non-threatening smile, there was an imposing air about the female Auriel. Her steps were slow and calculated as she made her way to the dance floor, with no need to step around anyone. Everyone seemed to just instinctively step out of her way. Vance was entranced.
Upon reaching the dance floor, she began to twist, turn, and roll her body in the most arousing ways. She moved with a fluidity and grace like water. Many tried to approach her, but she would smoothly shut them down and continue on with her performance.
Vance barely managed to drag his eyes away from her to assess the new group of three to enter the room; two fellow humans and, oddly, one Drell. He attempted to concentrate on them long enough to gage the threat they might pose, but it hurt to try and focus on anything other than the Auriel goddess. He turned back to her, only to find that she had her sights set on him as well – and, oh, those glowing purple eyes were going to kill him. He wanted her. He needed her.
As he rose from his seat to approach the exquisite beauty before him, he knew he had to have her.
Thane didn't like clubs. The music was always too loud for his sensitive hearing, and each one always stunk of sweat, alcohol, smoke, and sex. If a contract called for him to go to one he could play the part of a regular patron, but he always despised it. Looking at the Auriel dancing sensually on the dance floor, he could see that she was no different. The tightness around her eyes betrayed her discomfort and annoyance, though her eyes, themselves, portrayed a dark promise of pleasure and mystery. Her dancing was fluid and graceful, but she moved her feet as little as possible, indicating that she was uncomfortable in the strappy, dagger-like heels and unaccustomed to wearing them. To Thane, it was apparent that she wasn't there because she wanted to be.
"Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go talk to her," Shepard stated, interrupting Thane's close, careful observation.
"Wait," Thane stopped his two partners before they could move. "We don't want to get in her way."
"What? She's just dancing."
"Shepard, Sere Krios is right. Even you know it's strange for an Auriel to be at a place like this without it being required of them," Miranda conceded.
"Even me? I'll pretend that wasn't an insult. Fine. We'll wait and see what happens. Then, we talk to her," Shepard declared, crossing his arms and unconsciously assuming his 'Commander Stance'.
"She's watching someone," Miranda stated, studying the other woman's intent stare.
At that moment, the focal point of the Auriel's gaze rose from his seat and approached her.
"She's made herself the bait," Thane observed. "And, now, she's luring her prey."
Vance approached the beautiful woman slowly, a devious, handsome smirk firmly planted on his face. Upon reaching her, he smoothed a hand through his perfectly mussed blond hair, before making his introduction.
"I'm V-"
"I know who you are," she interrupted, a smirk of her own painted on plump lips.
Vance was momentarily stunned. Her voice suited her perfectly. It was slightly low in tone and every bit as sensual as she was. However, that wasn't what stunned him.
"Y-you're…British?" he questioned. Though, as he said it, he realized how dumb the question was.
She laughed and it was like music.
"No, Mister Otwell. I simply speak the same as the man whom I learned your language from. He was, as you say, British," she answered, a wide smirk displaying her amusement.
Vance cleared his throat and, hoping to salvage his dignity, pasted another smirk on his face and declared, "Well, you have me at a disadvantage, considering you already know my name, but I haven't been given the pleasure of learning yours."
The lovely lady smiled demurely at him and stated simply, "Clare."
Running his right middle finger lightly up her arm, he announced, "Well, I assure you, Clare, the pleasure," he winked, "is all mine."
"Mister Otwell, I am a woman of action. I grow bored quickly and easily. You've managed to capture my attention for the moment, so what do you say we go elsewhere and get to know each other a little better?" she propositioned, laying her hand lightly on his arm.
Vance couldn't believe his luck. Barely a minute in her presence and she was already inviting him to be alone with her.
"After you," he offered, barely managing to cover the giddiness in his voice with what he thought of as his bedroom voice.
"They're moving," Miranda announced.
Thane just barely managed to keep from rolling his eyes. It's not like he was already watching them or anything.
"Alright, stay on them, but don't get too close," Shepard ordered, already following at a safe distance.
Clare led Vance through the apartment district, presumably to her own abode. They had been walking for a while, Vance trying for conversation and Clare staying mostly silent. One thing was for certain; she was a woman of few words.
Vance had been growing irritated the further they drew into isolation. What was she playing at? Surely she didn't live this far out. It was getting annoying.
There was no one around, and Vance had just reached the end of his patience. He halted, jerking Clare to a stop, and was just about to say something when he felt a pressure in his back and his feet were swept out from under him.
Vance wasn't a small man, and he went down hard, losing the breath in his lungs on contact with the ground.
Dazed and confused, Vance felt a weight settle forcefully over his torso, making it even more difficult to breathe and pinning his shoulders down. Suddenly, he felt something sharp and scalding hot press against his throat. All of this happened within five seconds total.
"Name: Vance Otwell. Race: Human. Age: thirty-one. Crimes: Kidnapping and slave trafficking. Mister Vance Otwell, you have information that I need. You are going to give it to me; freely, else I make you final moments in this life utter agony. Any attempt to move will be futile. I've triggered a pressure point in your spine that will leave you completely paralyzed for at least four hours. However, you will feel everything," he heard Clare – or whoever she really was – threaten with all the lethality of a wild varren.
All he could do in response was wheeze.
"I'm looking for someone, an Auriel like myself, and you are going to tell me where to find her," she growled.
"I'm…not telling you anything…bitch," Vance wheezed, as the fog lifted from his mind.
"Perhaps you need some incentive."
He heard and felt the crunch before he felt the pain. When his brain processed what had just happened, the excruciating pain hit and he screamed, damn close to crying. She had crushed two of the fingers on his left hand with her elbow.
The woman was silent, patiently waiting for him to stop screaming.
"Now, let's try this again. You give me the information I demand and I won't break the fingers on your other hand," she negotiated.
"Fuck off," he gritted out through painfully clenched teeth.
"I warned you."
She removed what he realized was a knife from his throat, sheathing it in a hidden thigh-strap, and freeing her hands. Then, she lifted his right hand with her left, wrapped her right hand around his middle finger and snapped it to the side. His resulting scream was blood-curdling.
She was about to snap his ring finger when, through his tears, he screamed, "Okay! Okay! I'll tell you!"
"I'm waiting," she purred.
"I don't know where she is, I swear I don't, but I can give you a name! Gherith Kerseral! He's a Batarian! Slaver! P-please let me g-go!" he squealed, squeezing his eyes shut and trying not to sob like a baby.
Everything was silent for a few moments – aside from his quiet sobs.
After a moment, he heard her say, "Kal'vera guide you."
Then, he felt her hands on his face. By the time he opened his eyes and realized what was about to happen, it was too late. His head was jerked to the side and his world had gone dark.
She was used to killing, she had more blood on her hands than she cared to think about, but it was never a small thing to take a life. It was a heavy burden to be a harbinger to Kal'vera. It was necessary, though. She could not run the risk of Vance Otwell revealing her plans to the ones she hunted.
Closing Vance's lifeless eyes, she said a quick prayer to Kal'vera asking that she guide Vance's soul to the afterlife. Then, she said another to Relvana asking her to ease the heavy burden of death from her shoulders and cleanse her soul. Last, she prayed to Vaas'an, asking that he guide her swiftly and efficiently to her prey.
As she draped Vance's arms across his abdomen, she could feel the prickling of her skin, signaling that she was being watched. Slowly, reached through the slit in her dress for the small pistol she had strapped there. When she heard the first audible step taken, she spun around quickly, taking aim and preparing to fire…only…she recognized that face from the Citadel.
"Ah. Commander Shepard. Vela'mori'tasi. I heard you had perished. Are you back from the dead, or was any of it true in the first place?" she questioned, lowering her gun and relaxing her stance – just slightly. (Peaceful tidings.)
"Um…yeah. Er. Velamoreetazzi, too, I guess-"
"Shepard! Remember! Respect!" the woman beside him whispered harshly, though Clarell could hear either way.
"Right, uhm, Khar Clarell Di'Raevus, I have a request to make of you and I would be honored if you…why are you laughing?"
With laughter still in her eyes and her voice, she stated, "There is no need to act so formally. You are among allies here, so you may call me Clarell as we are. I am intrigued that you have a request, though I must inform you that I have a very important task already set. What do you wish of me?"
"The galaxy needs your help," he started.
"My people need me as well, Commander. I'm afraid that I have little time to spare," she declined regretfully, already turning to leave.
"Clarell, it's the Reapers," he informed heavily.
She halted immediately. No. Surely, she heard wrong. Misinterpreted. It couldn't be.
She looked over her shoulder toward them. "The Reapers, you say?"
Shepard nodded gravely, along with the woman and the silent Drell beside him.
She brought a shaky hand to her face. The Reapers would mean the destruction and/or enslavement of everyone and everything. She couldn't stand by without trying to stop if there was something, anything, she could do to help. Without a doubt, Milara would want her to drop everything to stop this colossal threat. It would take time to prepare. Maybe she could use her contacts to hunt down Gherith Kerseral and handle him later.
With a heavy sigh she turned toward her three new allies. "Alright, Shepard. You have my arm."
A/N: If you're interested:
Clarell's name translates as Clarell (Protector-F)Di'Raevus (of the People).
Khar is the female form of a formal, respectful title to someone that has achieved great things and lived a full life (even if they're young) – Khor is the male form.
Kal'vera is the Lady of Life, Death, and Fate. She is also referred to as T'Davasi Nimas (The Guiding Hand).
Relvana is the Lady of Life-Giving/Motherhood and Protection.
Vaas'an is the Lord of the Hunt.
(You may notice that the Auriel Guides (or God/Goddesses) have a lot in common with the Drell people's own deities…this was done purposefully.)
Also, thank you, roxy (Guest), for being my first reviewer! I hope you enjoyed the first real chapter of Valor!
Title is subject to change should I think of anything better.
As always, review if you want. I'd like to know what people think.
Oh! And I love art, so feel free to…oh, I don't know…send me any pictures you may want to draw, paint, etc. of anything you want in this story. *hint-hint* *wink-wink*
-Hope
