(I really hadn't seen this coming at -all-, but what's the fun of rp without
a little unpredictability? =) )
~*~*~*~*~*~
"Has anyone seen Cael?" Lt. Garrad Rainier, in his black, elite uniform,
looked out of place amid the pastel colors and floral prints of the Ladies'
sitting room. "She was supposed to meet me for lunch today. I know she's
still upset at me, but it isn't like her to just not show," he flashed a
handsome, rakish smile and raked a hand through his thick brown shock of
hair.
"No, Gary, I haven't," Jolene Dureau looked up from her book to give the
Elite a small, helpless smile.
"Garrad... She.... She ..." It wasn't like Nanette Vallen to stutter, and
right now she could barely look the young man in the eye. "She never came
back yesterday," the thin young woman rose from her chair, clasping her
hands in front of her.
"Maybe she just wanted to spend some time alone?" Jolene shrugged her slim
shoulders. She'd been distant herself as of late with all of the time she's
been spending with her Explorer, but she had been a close friend to her.
"She hasn't been herself lately... but I'm sure she's alright, she's smarter
then--"
"Smarter?!" Garrad's heart plummeted into his stomach. What kind of trouble
could she have gotten herself into this time?! "Jo, I found her drunk and
half on the lap of some stranger a week ago! When did you see her last?
Where was she going?"
"Yesterday morning. She went into town to do a little shopping..."
"Merchant's Square, Garrad, she said she was going to go there," Nan spoke.
"Gah! I don't care if she -is- Cheif Lady in Waiting!" Garrad fumed, red
with anger, "...But if I find her in some stranger's bed I'm going to have
her carted back off to the middle of the country with her father where the
only thing for her to get boozed up with are the goats!" His fist pounded
the doorframe as he stalked out of the room.
~*~*~
It was cold, it was dark, and Caelan Rainier ached. It wasn't just her body,
but her pride and her spirit as well. She wondered how far beneath ground
they were, and if they were still indeed under the streets of Mysthaven. For
all she could tell, it felt like she was in the depths of some deep, dark,
dank cave that she very well might never leave again. Bound and blindfolded,
she laid upon the straw covered, cold stone floor of her cell. Hours ago
she'd grown numb to the smells of the left over waste from the previous
prisoner. Her only thing to be thankful for was that she wasn't gagged and
choking... though her screams and shouts could never be heard in the streets
far, far above.
She hadn't recognized him. There was no way that she could have. The tall,
dark haired man that she ran onto on the street was handsome, and charming
as he apologized. But his voice, and his distinct accent, the only clue she
had, made her blood run cold, and there was little to do to hide her initial
fright and nervousness. He almost reminded her of the foreigner in the inn,
with his long black hair, tanned skin, and warm smile. But where Xylir's
dark eyes were comforting and friendly, there was something dangerous in the
bright blue gaze of the man on the street. He'd questioned her reaction, and
she tried to pass it off as nothing, but still his accent nagged at her and
he was keen enough to pick up on it.
She should have run faster, but the milling, shopping crowd made it
impossible. She was smart enough to stay amid them, but it was impossible
for her to see what was coming when it did. Smoke billowed out around her,
and scattered and scared the crowd around her before she fell beneath their
trampling feet, and everything went dark.
The next thing she knew she was here, upon the hard, cold, straw covered
floor. Lost in the dark, her tears soaked up by the blindfold. She never did
hear his name, but knew he was a leader of a group of Assassins. An
underground Association that was far more then the initial thief he'd made
himself out to be. Surely he wouldn't have any trouble ending her life. She
was a liability now. A loose thread that could topple their business. The
thought made her stomach turn sickly at the complete helplessness that
washed over her.
She began to think of who she spoke to yesterday, who she'd told of where
she was going. Was there anything out there for them to find? Anything that
they could use to find her? She prayed that there was. She prayed that there
was someone out in the Square right now searching for her. Maybe they would
find the silver clip that was given to her as a gift from Alesia, laying on
the edge of an allyway, before it was trampled into the mud and snow.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Sarah
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