《Chasing Freedom》


 Prologue: Darkness Consumes

    The music of the insects rose as as the temperature slowly dropped and the breeze rustled gently through the grass growing around the fields of golden wheat. It would be time to start harvesting soon. The city was already making their demands known. All he could hope was that the crop would yield enough. The weather had not been the most favorable. Oh the feel was full, but the heads of the wheat just weren¡¯t very full.


    Not enough rain this year. The heat hadn¡¯t been too bad, but the sun was seldom lost behind clouds and rain. Now that summer was approaching, the temperature was beginning to climb quickly during the day. The summer planting would be more strenuous for it.


    There were plenty of strong, young hands and backs in the village though. They could set up a good rotation so no one would be forced to work too long in the heat or without a break for water.


    The farmer would make sure of it. He was already calculating and had put some men to work to expand some of the fields and clear land for a couple of new ones a few miles down the road towards the city. With a little more effort it would all be ready in time for planting the next crops. He really hoped it would be. They all needed it to be.


    His large shoulders lifted in a heaving sigh. He continued to stand at the edge of the porch on his modest home. The sun set was vivid and stark on the horizon. Gold shimmered and gave way into orange, then red. That read then faded into a magenta that gave into a deep bruise shade of indigo before giving into the oncoming night sky. Stars were not quite showing yet.


    The smallest moon, Birris, however was glowing with proud glory high in the sky. The final glow from the sun seemed to make the dark spot in the lower left of the moon stand out brighter. Birris would would only just reach the western horizon when the sun returned to rise in the east on the morrow, the farmer reflected absently.


    He turned his head enough to look at his front door over his shoulder. It was shut firmly and only silence filled the house. After childbirth took his wife, he hasn¡¯t been able to look at another woman quite the same. Oh there were many and some lovelier than his sweet Irrett. He had loved many before her, and had not expected his love for her to last as it had.


    The world was cruel indeed. He could admit it, if only to himself, that for all the considerations he gave to the well being of his workers, those were only given as he knew very well that the work would not get done if he made them work longer or harder without refreshment.


    Deep down, all he wanted was a few harvests good enough to get the money he needed. Then he would pack up and leave. the bitterest corner of his heart wanted to build everything as he left as well. He might. He knew he might actually do it. The possibility grew with each harvest that he could couldn¡¯t make a profit on.


    His gaze shifted to the road several yards away to the right of the house. Then drifted along westward. The city lay that way. Noot any city, the capitol with the King and all the frivolities of noble wealth. It made the black emotions in him roil.


    But he was just a humble farmer in living amongst a small group of homes and families all trying to live off the meager fruits of their labors. Sometimes he felt like Evreus herself, the goddess of farming, was cursing them and spoiling the crops. The last harvest had lost almost a third of the crop to a blight.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    If gods were real, he bet money that they were the ones causing so much trouble throughout the lands. The whole lot of them were probably petty and spiteful and cruel. Laughing at mortal suffering.


    The sun finally fell completely beyond the horizon. The glow from another moon was creeping up from the west behind the house, and the farmer could finally see a few of the biggest and brightest stars pushing the the veil of the the sun¡¯s final glowing rays. He turned to finally go inside, cook his own misely dinner, and go to bed.


    He only took one step to turn when his eyes caught on the distance. He squinted, brows furrowed deeply. Something seemed off. There wasn¡¯t anything he could see that was obvious. He tried to strain his hearing, but all he got was the incessant cries of insects. Noises he nevr paid any mind to normally, now seemed too loud for him to even think through. His nostrils flared as he inhaled slowly. The air breeze was a whisper over his skin and carried the same fragrances of grass and fertilizer as always.


    Nothing was out of place, but something was. Something was off.


    The darkness of the distant sky was encroaching as it did every night.


    But that wasn¡¯t the night. That was coming from the south, and fast. He could see it now by it¡¯s absence. Even as his watched, the glittering of a star above vanished. The farmed swallowed. He couldn¡¯t tell how far it was. He couldn¡¯t even guess what it was. Everything was just fading into black, as if the world was being swallowed by a stormy, moonless night.


    Then, there was a figure. It shimmered and swayed before it became a steady enough image for him to study.


    It was a woman. A tall woman. Her golden hair almost seemed to glow against the darkness behind her, and she wore a simple dress of seafoam green. It had no sleeves, but a short train fluttered in the wind behind her.Her eyes were the color of a spring field of grass, and seemed to be flecked with sparks of gold.


    She strolled leisurely towards him, as if she had no idea that something was following her.


    A strong gust of wind sent strands of her loose hair drifting across her face. That hair. It was the same multitude of golden hues as the field of wheat in front of his house.


    The farmer stepped back. No. No way.


    The woman stopped a few feet infront of his porch. She smiled with full pink lips, ¡°Out a little late, aren¡¯t you, farmer?¡±


    He swallowed, ¡°Not really, ma¡¯am. Can I be helpin¡¯ you with something?¡± He forced himself to stand straight and look her in the eyes.


    ¡°Oh not at all,¡± her voice was light with laughter, ¡°I was simply out to see the fields.¡± She gestured with a slim arms towards the wheat. It waved in the breeze and almost looked duller now.


    There was silence for several moments before her gaze returned to his face. He felt bare. He felt like any thought or feeling he had was hers to read and judge.


    ¡°I should also like to know how you humans could be so pathetic and ignorant.¡±


    he backed up until his back met with his front door. ¡°I-i-i I don¡¯t know what you-¡±


    ¡°Silence!¡± Her eyes narrowed sharply, ¡°Fools, all of you. Your world is going to be stroyed by your own foolishness, and yet you all choose not to see it. We can only do so much to make you see. I have tried and tried. Foiled crop after crop that you yourself has planted. But deep in your heart, all you still wish to see is the suffering of others while you flee. I hope the darkness consumes your black soul.¡±


    She turned and started walking away. The farmer began shaking, his body trembling. Was it anger? Fear?


    ¡°My lady, Evreus! Please-!¡± He was cut off as that darkness that he had thought was still so far away swept in on him and he wwas gone.


    Evreus, the goddess of the land and food it produced, drew in a long and slow breath. A silent tear rolled down her cheek and she dropped her head down a few inches. But she did not look back even once before her figure wavered in the final shadows, and faded away.

 Chapter I: The Dove in Her Cage

    ¡°I shouldn¡¯t even be surprised,¡± a tenor voice crooned with vicious delight from the small doorway into the cramped room. A male figure stood there with hands in his pockets. He wasn¡¯t especially tall, but he was thoroughly muscled.


    Nikkita straightened from her crouched position where she had been tying her white knee-high boots tight. The motion was slow, using the time to assess that tone and what it would mean for her. She knew there was trouble in it, just not sure how much. She resisted the urge to swallow are she meet cold, ice-blue eyes.


    His square face was set in equally chilled delight, as though she was an unexpected gift found on the street. Those brutish thin lips curved slightly on either side. The large-flat nose flare as he took in a deep breath, ¡°However, I honestly can¡¯t say I¡¯m disappointed.¡± He stepped into the room.


    All the space in the room was already taken between the two small beds, a couple of wardrobes, and a couple of trunks. As he approached her, Nikkita stepped back. Suddenly, she felt like there wasn¡¯t even any room to breathe, and his face had grown dark. She instinctively pulled her arms up defensively. The white suit she wore had some extra padding along the forearms. Not enough to stop a black, but it would deflect some of the impact from a blunt blow.


    He stepped forward again. She backed up again. And her foot connected with the chest at the foot of her bed. It surprised her enough that she staggered, throwing her arms out for balance.


    That was his cue. Before she could even right her balance, let alone try to dodge or block, his fist hit home on the left side of her rib cage. She choked out a sharp sound of pain with the breath the fled her lungs as she fell hard onto the floor. Even as she fought to suck air back into her lungs, he moved again. His foot connected with the left side of her stomach, just above her hip.


    What little air she had gained was lost once again as the kick buckled her and forced her to roll away onto her back.


    Nikkita laid there breathing and short gasps. He had knocked the wind so completely from her, that her chest seized with every attempt she made to refill her lungs. But she continued to force herself to take in more air. Her vision began to blur are the lack of oxygen hit, along with the tears. She rolled onto her right side, wrapping her arms around herself and pulling her knees up feebly.


    The man gave a disgusted sound, ¡°Your master gave you orders, and you have a job to do. Let this remind you not to disobey again.¡± His tone made it sound as if he looked forward to the next time she disobeyed just so he could beat her again. Then he turned on a heel and left, whistling a jaunty little tune.Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    ¡°Cruel...bastard,¡± Nikkita choked out after he had left and she had enough breath to speak. She coughed a bit, a few fleck of blood splattering the floor in front of her. She was shaking, but she was breathing in regular shallow breaths. Her body refused to move at all. It took several long minutes full of half-coherent thoughts intruding through the haze of pain for the shaking and adrenaline to wear off enough to ease her legs out straight and roll onto her back.


    She spent another minute laying there and staring at the wooden boards of the ceiling. She brought her right arm up and draped it over her eyes as she began to thinking more clearly. First thought, no broken ribs. He had more than enough power to have broken multiple ribs, but he hadn¡¯t. Her next thought was to consider how much longer she could lie there before she really had to finish getting ready and leave before she was paid another visit.


    Far too soon, she rolled onto her stomach and pushed onto her hands and knees. Then she reach up and used the second bed, her twin sister¡¯s bed, to get onto her feet. Pain throbbed harshly through her left side, and she had to hunch herself inward for a bit.


    But she couldn¡¯t cater to the pain forever.


    Taking a steadying breath, she stood up straight and turned to her bed where the rest of her gear and a white dress lay. There was several knives of varying size that she slowly picked up and slid into concealed places on her. The two largest were slid into her boots. Two of the smallest went into sheaths on the inside of either wrist. The hilts of those were also white, to blend into the clothes. Last was a medium length, slender dagger that slid into a sheath strapped to the inside of her thigh.


    Finally, Nikkita grabbed the dress and slid it over her head. It was a plain gown, no embellishments. It wasn¡¯t even stylish. A proper woman would¡¯ve worn something fitted and flowing. This just hung from her shoulders loosely. It wasn¡¯t too big, just a couple panels of fabric sewn together with long sleeves that flared out wide at the ends. With her hands at her sides, only her long, slender fingers showed. Good.


    She finished with an equally plain, light gray sash tied at her waist. She looked into the mirror to make sure all of her weapons were concealed, and no movements betrayed their presence.


    For a moment her mismatched eyes met their reflection. The left one was green, bright as springtime forest moss, and the left was as blue as calm waters. They were set above a small, but pert nose dotted with a few light freckles that were almost unnoticed with her skin so tanned from the summer sun. Her lips were still set in a thin grimace as her side positively thrummed. All set in a heart-shaped face that often made people mistake her for younger than her 24 years.


    A small sigh escaped her as she tried to smooth the pain from her furrowed, thin eyebrows and lips. Her silver hair was already pulled up into a high ponytail and then braided to the end that brushed along her backside. For a moment she considered wrapping the braid into a bun, but dismissed it. She didn¡¯t feel like the extra effort and it wouldn¡¯t make any real difference for her whether is was atop her head or swaying down her back. Amusement tinged her thoughts as she considered how much more attention was attracted because of just where that braid ended.


    A shake of her head sent the braid swaying, and Nikkita turned away. She needed to leave and get to the opening ceremony of the festival. Dominique was waiting, and getting caught still in the manor a second time might very well push defiance too far, even for her.

 Chapter II: The Raven in Flight

    The Centre, as it was known, wasn¡¯t yet packed. It was busy and people moved around everywhere in the large oval-shaped cobble-stone space. It wasn¡¯t the center of the city at all. It wasn¡¯t even the predominant market center. That was some blocks away, nearer to the slums and river docks.


    No, the Centre was the intersection of seven streets that had been opened into a rather large area with a large fountain closer to the southern edge. In the middle of the fountain was a pedestal with a ring of statues that depicted the Seven facing outward to the Centre. The Seven were seven heros from nearly two millennia in the past that were said to have banished the Fae, the Daemons, and all magic from the world. Four were men, and three were women. Each stood in a regal pose. From the base the statues stood on sprouted a row of gentle streams. Another spout of water rose high from the center of the ring and spread outward above and over the statues. It was all made of expensive marble. Black with white streaks for the base and bowl; white with black streaks for the statues. The Fount of Heroes was carved in letters large enough to circle the entire bowl.


    Along the edge of the Centre, in between streets, were various buildings. A bank took up the whole space on the southern side, nearest to the Fount of Heroes. To the left was a bakery. It too took up all the space between the streets on either side. That bakery was known as the best in the kingdom, and by all the fragrances of sweets, savory breads, and other confections that Dominique could smell, she would believe what people exclaimed. She paused before it, eyeing some of the lovely desserts on display in a case by the window. Her mouth watered, despite having already eaten.


    She continued her lazy stroll along the edge of the Centre. For all the world she looked like another young woman out to enjoy the revelry and annual celebration to commemorate those seven ancient heroes. The sound of boots and heels was a constant clattering around her. Along with snippets of conversations, a young woman laughing perhaps a bit louder than necessary at the wit of the gentleman whose arm she clung to. Her own shoes gave dull thumps as she walked past a clothing store and shoe store buddied up between the next two streets. A vendor had a stall set up in front of the stores.


    Dominique eyed the lovely jewelry displayed on the table and shaded from the high summer sun. Gems glittered among intricate designs of silver and gold. She didn¡¯t linger, even though the short and stout vendor called to her in an attempt to peddle his goods. She simply smiled and shook her head as she walked away from him. Then she turned her gaze toward the people out in the middle of the Centre. Soon the entire area would be so full of bodies that everyone there would be brushing up against the others around them.


    For now, it was still easy to navigate around people and move freely. Dominique¡¯s swung slightly at her sides. She passed by a few more stalls and more stores around the edge of the Centre. She eyed the wares with mild interest, but always politely declined any solicitations. Repeatedly, her gaze drifted to a man in front of her, also strolling casually along the stalls.


    He was an unusually tall man, looking even taller with one of the ridiculous tall, black top hats favored by some of the older and wealthier men. It was an absurd fashion in Dominique¡¯s opinion, but who was she to question it. Light chestnut brown hair, speckled with strands of gray, hung from below the hat and was pulled back into loose tie at the base of his skull. He must have had it trimmed up recently as the ends all fell neatly between his shoulder blades. He wore a nicely tailored suit of pale green and black shoes the clopped with each step. The clothes were expensive, but not overly rich. They lacked any flowery embroidery or fine patterning that displayed true wealth.


    He walked with his hands in the pockets of his pants causing his arms to rest bent and slightly cocked outwards. A man at complete ease, perhaps even over confident. When he turned his head to nod a passing greeting at a pair of more finely dressed young women who fluttered they fans a little faster and hurried by with demurely bowed heads, she could see the profile of his sharp, slightly crooked nose and the arrogant was he smiled. He acted as though he had everything in the world and that the gods themselves would bow at his feet if they even existed.


    Dominique narrowed her eyes, and as the girls passed her a few steps later, she could hear their uncomfortable whispers. They were barely old enough to be considered grown women, and that man was clearly well into his 40¡¯s. Disgusting.


    She continued to follow him. When he stopped to look at a stall selling merchandise advertising gear and souvenirs for the Daerune run today, she would get within ten paces and then stop as well. Sometimes she would look to the nearest stall as well, feigning some more interest, or merely look around as though trying to find someone. Mostly her eyes kept spearing through the crowd. Nikkita still hadn¡¯t arrived yet. Her twin was due to be there soon.


    When the man moved along, she would wait for a few more seconds before strolling along again as well. She didn¡¯t stare fixedly at him. That was far too obvious. Other people would be more likely to notice such concentrated attention, not to mention that some internal instinct in people made them look around when such focus was fixed on them. Perhaps an old fear from old times when such attention usually came from a predator that was stalking.


    That was irrelevant. Dominique kept her eyes scanning. Sliding from one person to the next in the Centre. She only watched closely enough to keep the man in her sights.


    She was passing by a tailor shop that was advertising a sale now. It was near the north most street. A few feet out from the street entrance was a large platform about four feet tall. Tall enough that anyone standing on it would be easily seen by everyone in the Centre, even at the far end, and more importantly they would be clearly heard throughout as well.


    That was where the Master of Ceremonies, Argullas Svellen, would give the annual speech about the celebration. He would again recite the tales of the fae, the deamons, the war, and everything about why this day was a celebration. Then he would announce the events of the day. The Daerune would begin after his speech, and likely continue nearly to the evening party.


    The Daerune was a multilevel maze held once every year at the midsummer celebrations. Not only did it have two or three levels, it was also constructed into rings. These rings were rotated by some sort of machinery that only the gamemasters knew how to control. That information was staunchly guarded. The rings rotated in a rhythm, but that rhythm varied each year. Anyone that part took in the Daerune, usually called a Hunter or a Huntress, had to deal with more than just the shifting maze. There were also traps set up to hinder them. One the upper levels, there were even trap doors that would drop a person back to the level below.


    Spectators flocked to the Darune. Legend held that the Heroes themselves had set up the game and each took their own turns navigating the obstacles until they won and earned the title of *Champion.


    Simply competing in the run of the Daerune was considered a noble feat, winning it was almost an act of heroism itself. It wasn¡¯t especially dangerous, but people could die if they were too careless. The prestige of it alone, however, could earn a person great status, and there usually was no shortage of people wishing to try. There were many openings for people to run, as each round consisted of seven people starting at different points and went until one of them reached the top and claimed the victory *flag.


    After the Daerune there would be some peace and quiet as people readied themselves for the evening party. A ball held throughout most of the city. All restaurants and taverns left their doors open, music played from within them. Some musicians would play on the streets. People would be everywhere. It was a marvelous display of controlled chaos. At midnight, a display of fireworks would be launched from the Centre. That usually marked the beginning of the end of the revelry. Many people would retire after that. Many would also continue to celebrate as long as there was music and drinks to be found.


    Rumor had it that the party this year was to a be a Masque.


    Dominique stopped and turned to study the platform and the people around it. Now to her left and slightly behind her, the tall man was standing among a group of other older men. She was close enough that she could hear their conversation. She eased into a comfortable and relaxed position, letting her gaze wander idly as if waiting for someone or something. She wasn¡¯t really looking at anything in particular, though in her periphery she could see them. Her focus was on listening.Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    Argullas reached out to the man she was following and shook his hand vigorously, ¡°Ah, Caspius, my friend. How are you today? Is the Daerune all set for this afternoon?¡± He was an aging man, his short cropped hair hair was all gray and white, wrinkles filled his face around his mouth and light brown eyes as did a few age spots. However, he spoke and moved with vigor that was suited to someone much younger as he continued speaking and answered his own question, ¡°Of course you are. Fortune favors us for such a fine day to celebrate. Will you be attending the evening events?¡±


    Caspius chuckled at the older man. His grin was on the sly side and he returned his hand casually to his pocket ¡°Fortune does favors us. It is a marvelous day for what I and the others Masters have planned for the games. I should not like to spoil the surprise, though.¡± His words did not match his tone, which said he very much wanted to tell all about it, and would if coaxed just a bit.


    Dominique refrained from scowling at his audacity. ¡°Although, I did not see as many prospective players as I had anticipated,¡± his expression became a frown that mirrored his disappointed words.


    ¡°Ah, indeed! I would prefer to see it with unbiased eyes. It is a surprise and a shame to hear that people are not stepping forth to run.¡± Argullas reflected with a sympathetic frown. ¡°I wonder what why that is and if it will affect the number of spectators.¡±


    ¡°Oh, we have carefully kept quiet about the lack of entries,¡± Caspius quickly assured him.


    Argullas looked a little relieved at that, but still frowned in concern, ¡°I hope it isn¡¯t from those pesky disappearance rumors. They have been increasing lately. Ever since that farming community vanished nearly a year ago.¡± He quickly cut himself off as if he didn¡¯t want to breathe more life into those rumors.


    Now a younger man with similar light brown eyes broke into the discussion, ¡°Indeed. We relied heavily on that farm; it was nearly a disaster when the supply trains arrived and the fields were half dead and nothing had been harvested. Everything was just left. Several fields looked like they were halfway through expanding, and other areas were clearly marked for new fields to be developed. If we lose money on the Daerune it could be nearly as bad.¡± He wasn¡¯t smiling as he spoke, and his whole demeanor was somber. He even shook his head, despairing at the idea of losing such an enterprise.


    Caspius frowned, and looked out on the Centre. Dominique turned and walked passed them to a store just across the street from them. She turned to face the window and angle her head carefully to be able to study the men better. She was more to the side of the group and from her new angle she could study Caspius more closely. His eyes were a limp, light blue color, and with his well tailored clothes she could tell he was still fit, if not as much as in his youth.


    She already knew much about him. Years and years ago he had participated in the Daerune. He never actually won, but he tried year after year on every occasion it was held. Until age caught up with him and he took a nasty fall. After he healed his performance were never the same. It didn¡¯t take him long to just quit entering. After that, he began working his way into the ranks of officials that monitor the players. From there he schemed his way onto the planning committee. It had only been a couple of years since the previous High Master passed away to the shock of many, Caspius Morrowan was selected to replace him.


    Her master had coveted that position for many years already and had originally been favored to take it. When Caspius was the one named, he had been furious, but the man¡¯s sudden death so soon would have been suspicious. So, the master had waited. Luck was with him as Caspius began to set up his own downfall by breaking some of the most sacred rules of the Daerune council. Caspius was selling key information about it to certain people and rigging some rounds to his profit.


    Dominique suspected that the reason her master was overzealously outrage at the was because he had planned to do the same thing.


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t worry about it too much,¡± Caspius shrugged, ¡°People crave the attention and the excitement of it too much. We¡¯ve had years in the past were participation declined, but it always came back up. There is little greater honored than the Daerune after all.


    ¡°I would be more concerned about that farm. Even I have been hearing a great deal more about people vanishing. Just the other day, I heard that a prince from the Kothen Empire disappeared. Everyone there is in an uproar about it. They¡¯ve even shut down the borders.¡± Now he took off his hat and ran a hand over his hair. He had a surprisingly high forehead, and his hairline was receding just above his temples creating a sharp widow¡¯s peak.


    ¡°I will worry about the Daerune! Honestly, if it were to shut down, we would suffer an unprecedented recession,¡± The younger man spoke again. This time his manner was a little more aggressive. His eyes narrowed at Caspius. ¡°I¡¯m not so certain that the council shouldn¡¯t begin finding alternatives to the games. It is a wildly outdated custom. We can keep it around for awhile longer, but we should use our time now to find another revenue to replace it should that one fail.¡± He folded his arms across his chest.


    From his tone, Dominique got the impression that he had argued this many times already and been refused. It also seemed that no one had yet given him a convincing enough reason to let it go either.


    Argullas gave him a stern look. She could tell they were related, father and son. They were of similar height and stocky build with matching eyes. ¡°Enough, Micah. You¡¯ve brought this up in council more than enough already. We all know that the games go through rough times just as everything else does. It will be fine.¡± He looked back to Caspius, his expression immediately lightening and he smiled, ¡°Do you suspect that we shall see any competitors as exciting as those two spectacular girls from last year?¡±


    A slightly startled laugh broke from Caspius, ¡°Ah yes, those two were something to watch. I have found some rather unsettling information about them, however. It seems they may be slaves.¡± Instantly he became sober and irritated. Slaves were not considered worthy enough for the Daerune and if a slave was found out, their master would be punished for it. Dominique had seen one lose his title and everything for it.


    She narrowed her own eyes and took a few steps closer, now leaning against a lamp pole on the corner. She folded her arms over her chest and made herself look bored. Just a girl waiting for things to move along. Her every fiber however was narrowed on the men and their conversation.


    ¡°No!¡± Argullas and Micah both exclaimed. Each took a step back and their faces were a mixture of shock and horror.


    Argullas collect himself first, ¡°You can¡¯t be serious. Do you have any idea who their master is? Does the rest of the council know and have you decided what to do?¡±


    Caspius sighed and ran his hand through his hair again, ¡°No, I haven¡¯t been able to confirm that they are slaves just yet, but I have some strong evidence. I suspect who their master is, but again I haven¡¯t confirmed it yet. If I am correct it will not be an easy situation.¡± He paused to huff out tense breath and shake his head, ¡°It¡¯s all very delicate, and this is one time I can¡¯t bring it up to the council until it is nearly unquestionable who they are.¡±


    The other two men frowned, ¡°It isn¡¯t right to put a slave in the games. By law they don¡¯t even have a right to any of their winnings. It¡¯s an unfair gain to the master and must be dealt with quickly,¡± Micah was scowled severely at Caspius. ¡°You need to take it to the council now and deal with it.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± agreed Argullas, his own face reflected concern. ¡°I don¡¯t see what is making you wait, Caspius. Unless...¡± He went a little pale as he looked at Caspius.


    Caspius nodded gravely but the movement was kept small, ¡°You see my predicament and why I must deal with this very carefully and prove it all without a doubt.¡±


    The other two shared a look. Micah seemed confused and rather angry, ¡°I don¡¯t understand.¡±


    ¡°Hush, boy. Let it go for now. Just keep me informed, Caspius,¡± Argullas finally sighed. ¡°Now, I am afraid that noon waits for noone and I must take my leave now.¡± He nodded his head politely before going to the platform and straightening his clothes.


    Micah fumed silently at his father¡¯s retreating back, but said no more.


    Dominique studied Caspius and Micah. Now that the old man had left, the air between the two had become tense. They looked each other over closely. There was a silent battle of dominance playing out if they¡¯re postures and unwavering narrowed eyes meant anything.


    Micah broke first, ¡°Well then. Good day, Game Master.¡± With that he turned and walked away not even waiting for Caspius to bid a farewell.


    Caspius didn¡¯t even acknowledge the younger man¡¯s departure. Instead he watched the crowd and replaced his hat upon his head. She realized that it while it made him look ridiculously taller, it also hid the receding hairline and widow¡¯s peak making him actually look a bit younger. His eyes were still that limpid blue tone, but they gleamed somehow. Then his lips curved into a smile that seemed somehow cruel. She turned away and made to mingle into the crowd, awaiting her sister¡¯s arrival.


    ¡®I am a block away.¡¯ Nikkita¡¯s curt voice darted into her thoughts just at that moment.


    She missed as his gaze fell upon her figure and watched her leave.

 Chapter III: The Dove and The Truth

    The crowd was growing. More and more people were filling the streets and moving towards the Centre. Nikkita was currently caught behind a rather larger group of rowdy kids that were just old enough to be considered adults. She huffed to herself. As was customary for the Celebration of Heroes, they were all dressed in clothes of various bright colors. However, this group seemed to be of the working class as none of it was very fine or properly fitted to them.


    Still, she felt a twinge in her heart at their capricious fun. She closed her eyes willing the dark envy away. It was a bright day. The sun was high in the sky. Shadows had no business on the streets this day.


    Yet, here she was.


    Across street was nearing ahead of the group. It would be her best chance to pass the group before her. She quickened her pace and moved to one side. As soon as they hit the intersection she nearly ran around them and settled back into a quick walk ahead of them. They didn¡¯t notice her. She didn¡¯t want them to.


    Her side was still throbbing. She had to watch her step carefully else she set it thrumming with intensified pain. Her hands swayed gently at her sides. The Centre was only a couple more blocks away. The street she was on was one of the seven that lead straight to it. Going the other direction lead to a district full of grand homes where people lavished in luxury.


    Well, people that could afford to own slaves did. Slaves generally always lived in poor conditions. Even in all the fancy houses they had cupboard rooms or worse.


    Nikkita¡¯s own Master lived in that area, several blocks away. His home was one of the nicest there. A very expensive manse with fountains, gardens, and more nonsense that he really didn¡¯t seem to need. Let alone did he deserve any of it.


    Her narrowed her eyes at her own thoughts. They were useless thoughts, even if she thought them too often to count. She forced herself to live in the moment.


    The heat of the sun beat down on her and she could already feel herself starting to sweat. In the white clothes it wasn¡¯t as bad as it could be, but it was uncomfortable. It also reflected off the glass of the windows in the buildings around her. She glared right back a particularly bright glint from the building on the corner ahead of her.


    One more block. She could see how the Centre was filling quickly now. She sent out a quick thought to her twin, ¡®I¡¯m a block away.¡¯


    Dominique had target watch. It would be u to her where to meet.


    Before Nikkita heard her sister¡¯s response, she caught sight of a reflection of light that nearly blinded her. It sent a sharp sting through her eyes and made her stop, jerking her head away from it. Almost as soon as she did so, she stopped herself and looked for where it came from. Ahead. It had been ahead of her.


    She stood stone still, only moving her eyes carefully to scan what was ahead of her. The reflection had not been off of a window; it was too small. She searched for the source, but the people on the street continued moving and her view was constantly shifting.


    After a few moments she cursed under her breath and started walking again. Her eyes kept shifting through the sights ahead as if she could still find where that annoying glare had come from. She couldn¡¯t pick out anything special though. She couldn¡¯t see much more than just the different people flowing through the street. Now that she was near the end of the block that opened onto the Centre, the pace of movement was slowed. More people were gathering into groups conversing, laughing, and enjoying themselves.


    Now she was weaving between these groups. Shifting her body carefully to step around them or squeeze between bodies. There were advantages to having a slight frame. Even though twisting her torso set an ache through her left side.


    When Nikkita had finally broken into an opening, she was several feet into the open area of the Centre. The fountain was several feet ahead of her and a little to her right.


    With a frown and shaking of her head, she gave up her search for that flash of light. There was just too much chaos to track it properly.


    The area around the fountain was still surprisingly free of people, so she headed towards it. As she walked she took note of everything around her. Mostly, she was looking for her twin. Dominique wasn¡¯t near enough to spot. However, a taller, older gentleman dressed smartly, if not richly, caught her eye.


    He was facing towards the podium at the other end of the Centre; which gave her a clear view of his profile. He wore his dark brown hair unusually long. It didn¡¯t appear to be going gray yet, but it still seemed that it had once been a rich color in his youth. His feather wear sharp, almost severe even, and he was frowning deeply. He stood nearly rigid; his figure was full, but not overweight. Those dark brown eyes were intent on the distance even as his thick eyebrows drew lower.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    In his dark gray suit, there was nothing remarkable about him.


    Still, Nikkita swallowed. Her heart was racing in her chest. Goosebumps prickled at the back of her neck. Her body sang with warning. It told her to run, to flee. Told her that she should be far, far away from this man. More than anything, she didn¡¯t want him to look at her.


    She didn¡¯t even realize as she took a step back, her arms bending slightly as to be ready to fight or defend.


    When the city bell clanged out the noon-hour she actually gasped and pulled herself back another step. It rang again and the man she was still staring at for some forsaken reason like a fool turned.


    Instantly his eyes locked onto hers.


    That gaze.


    Nikkita couldn¡¯t bring herself to even breathe. All the tension she bundled up to fight or flee vanished. Her heart seemed to nearly stop as if even it¡¯s unseen movement would bring whatever terror down on her. Sweat slicked her skin and chilled her. She couldn¡¯t hold in the shiver it caused.


    There they stood eyes locked on each other as the people around them moved more purposefully towards the far end of the Centre. Nikkita couldn¡¯t hear any of it. As if she had gone deaf, she didn¡¯t hear the chattering. She couldn¡¯t hear the bells continuing to toll. Anything outside her direct focus was a blur. Just swirls of color that meant nothing to her scramble mind.


    It was only a few moments, but the ire in his face faded into a cool, calculating look. The staring match went on, but slowly Nikkita became more aware of herself and the bodies closing in. Her hand twitched. His pale lips curved slightly at the ends. Not true amusement, but almost. He looked her up and down with intense assessment. She blinked as soon as his eyes left her and when they opened again she saw it. There on the lapel of his tunic was a somewhat large breastpin. Just a simple oval about the size of a goose egg in which she could see her own reflection.


    It made her mouth throat tighten, that little mirror. Even from the distance, and even as the angle of it was wrong, she was staring at herself in that mirror. A tendril or recognition and another of thought tickled the back of her mind but couldn¡¯t break through the primal instinct she had fallen into.


    The bells gave a final chime and his eyes met hers again.


    I¡¯m staring at a god, the thought flashed through her. She didn¡¯t know where it came from. It wasn¡¯t Dominique¡¯s voice, but she didn¡¯t believe in the gods. A ridiculous series of stories that had no proof and were merely parables to teach children. They weren¡¯t real. They weren¡¯t.


    Her gut told her differently.


    The sounds of the crowd came roaring back into her ears. He smiled a little more widely then nodded his head slightly before he turned and walked away.


    She physically jolted at his departure. She lurched forward a step, her hands lifted into fists at waist height, and her shoulders lifted in tension. It felt like she she couldn¡¯t get enough air as she gasped for each breath in heavy pants.


    Fa¡¯ual. Blue and green eyes closed tightly as Nikkita pulled herself upright and force her body to relax. Her side was throbbing deeply with each breath pound of her heart. She she opened them again he was gone. Completely lost to her sight. Also, the Centre had nearly packed full. Many people were around the fountain, and people weren¡¯t moving any further forward in the space between it and the stage.


    A few colorful words hissed out of her and she reached a wordless thought out to her sister. Dominique was already there, though, walking around the back of the fountain. She looked incredibly annoyed and folded her arms as she came to a stop in front of Nikkita.


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe you¡¯re just standing here, Nik.¡± Dominique was nearly seething.


    Nikkita put a hand to her aching left side, ¡°I¡­ I um,¡± she looked away from the reflection of blue and green eyes, to the ground next to her sister. Her usually aggression was gone. Had she really just had a staring match with the god of truth and lies? He had looked so angry, and what was that smile before he left? The hammering of her heart fading, to instead again become a light and quick ta-too. Sh looked back up, ¡°I think I just saw something I couldn¡¯t have seen, Dom.¡±


    Dominique scowled, pulling her lips back to flash her teeth. She only bared them for half a second, but it still mad Nikkita wince. She was the hot-headed angry one. Dominique didn¡¯t get riled up like that. But she knew why her twin was so irritated, and before Dominique could say anything, she broke in, ¡°Not now. I know, I had expected to get to you sooner. Let¡¯s just get into position. Where is Caspius?¡±


    Still glaring, Dominique answered in clipped tones, ¡°He¡¯s up at the front. There¡¯s too many people in the way to get near him again now.¡±


    Nikkita nodded and, without conferring, they made for the fountain to wait out the speech. There they each stepped up onto the edge of the bowl. Standing there they could see over the crowd before them. There was still a great deal of chattering voices around them, but it was quieter now and fading quickly.


    A man was standing on the platform waiting patiently for people to settled down. Nikkita had keen eyes, and even at the far ends of the Centre, she could see the features of Argullas Svellen clearly. She stood straight, but at his age he was still slightly stooped. He had a small polite smile on his weathered face.


    While the crowd finished setting, she shifted her gaze around the the people nearest the platform. Dominique had said he was at the front.


    Right on cue, Dominique¡¯s gentle voice drifted into her mind, ¡®He was near the street behind the platform when you said you were a block away.¡¯


    Nikkita didn¡¯t respond but she did concentrate her attention where Dominique had said. Dominique had done most of the work studying the target, but Nikkita had spent enough time helping to know what Caspius Morrowan looked like. Of course, the man was so tall, he was hard to miss.


    He wasn¡¯t there anymore. She slowly scanned around there searching farther out slowly. There is was! He had moved to the corner of the street that lead towards the Daerune. Likely, he would make his way there after the speech. Others would as well to get good seats.


    She frowned as the last of the conversation faded when Argullas began to speak.

 Chapter IV The Raven and the War

    ¡°Once again, my fellows, welcome one and all. This day marks an incredible occasion. And I don¡¯t just mean that long ago dreadful battle that changed the history of humanity.¡± Argullas paused in theatrically dramatic fashion, ¡°This celebration marks two thousand years since all the wickedest of things was eradicated from our magnificent world!¡± He drew his hands out from behind him and through them wide. A broad grin stretched across his face.


    Dominique kept a blank face. She watched and listened to the Master of Ceremonies. As was to be expected, he made grand gestures and all the dramatics of an over zealous actor in his first play.


    Nikkita, she knew, was focused on Caspius. A clear opportunity to catch the man alone had been elusive thus far. He was never truly alone. For a common common born man of his age he was surprising busy. Company over at his humble imitation of a wealthy manse. Attending a gathering some noble¡¯s home. Out at some poor drinking parlor. Somehow, there were always too many witnesses to get to him.


    If she thought about it too much, she got the feeling that he somehow knew he had a target on his back and was taking precautions. That was a remote possibility. Sometimes, her own mind would betray her and lead her in directions to believe that he not only knew someone was after him, but that he knew who had been given his name to eliminate. Those thoughts usually wormed their way into her mind late at night after a long day while she reviewed what she knew.


    Now, as she listened to the old man preach about glory and honorable sacrifices she felt something like disgust twisting in her stomach.


    ¡°Today we will revel and indulge in all that we have now thanks to those seven heroes two millennia ago!¡± Now the master of ceremonies gestures broadly to the fountain on which Dominique and her sister stood. A few people turned and looked, but not many. Everyone already knew the fountain well and new that there would also be people standing on the edge to better see the other end. Indeed, Dominique felt a figure shift beside her as if the person was also persuaded to gaze at the statues.


    ¡°Those seven fought for so many years to free humanity from the enslavement of fae and daemons. Those wicked creatures of magic that we humans as powerless against. They fought and sometimes they lost, but they would only fight harder then. They knew that as long as something so vile as magic was in this world we always be dominated. ¡±


    Dominique slowly drew in a breath through her nose until her lungs felt like they would burst. Magic. She exhaled just as slowly. Some people in the crowd were cheering their agreement. Almost all were at least nodding. Magic was filthy. It was unnatural. It was inhumane.


    She couldn¡¯t bring herself to agree. To hr, magic seemed as though it would be rather useful and could help all of humanity. If someone could manipulate water, then the droughts plaguing the land currently could be ended. Well, if magic worked that way. There are no records left from before the war that she could find. Least of all anything at all about magic other than it had supposedly once existed. Even the records of the war itself were mostly lost to the damages of time. Some people even argued over the names of the heroes because accounts were so difficult to read or completely destroyed.


    No one really spoke of life before the war either beyond saying that humans were slaves and treated in the most atrocious ways. It was more like no one honestly knew the truth anymore.


    ¡°I swear to you that the accounts of those final days, that final battle, were a misery to read. The death tolls were uncountable. The heroes were exhausted, a few nearly dead from wounds. The enemy had pulled back to regroup and the humans were utterly outnumbered. Nearly a hundred to one. It was bleak and hopeless. Doom had come.¡±The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Dominique couldn¡¯t completely hold in her slight grimace, or stop herself from folding her arms. He had paused again, his head slowly turning from side to side as his met the eyes of many people. His hands were clutched to his chest as if the words were painful to speak.


    ¡°As the sun began to set on the final day, they came at the humans again. Magic blasted into the front lines. Screams wracked the air. Only four of the heroes were still standing but through their own strength and and determination they held the humans together and charged once more at the enemy. They would all win or die fighting. Darkness fell fully on the battlefield. Star glittered on the destruction and the three moons all shared the sky, lighting the land up bright with silver light that dulled all color.


    ¡°We very nearly lost in those last few hours. Each moon set one at a time and each one seemed to take a few stars out with it. When the last moon, Birris, fell all was over. The deamons were vanquished or beaten and gone. The Heroes stood together leaning on each other. They had won.¡±


    There. That was it. That was what had driven Dominique to search the records herself. She had driven Nikkita nearly insane with her madness to find anything about the world from that time. Any historical account of that battle, or even the war in general. The greatest majority of it was lost or hidden, and if it was hidden, it was hidden extremely well for her not to be able to find it.


    But the past is simply that. What did it matter today?


    The was what she always reminded herself with a shake of her head. It didn¡¯t make her feel any better, but she couldn¡¯t do anything about it.


    The Master of Ceremonies prattled on some more. She wasn¡¯t really listening anymore. She only wanted to here the story again to see if she could learn anything new. Always, she left with the same disappointment.


    There were more important things to consider and think about. All those people vanishing struck Dominique as something to look into. Was there a sickness? Were the shifting powers between kingdoms stirring? Was it all just a bunch of rumors as Argullas had implied? Something was going on and it made her gut twist.


    She looked towards Caspius. He was staring at the Master of Ceremonies still speaking. The speech had shifted into more of a lecture on the Daerune. She wondered what he was thinking about with that bored look on his face. He had seemed rather unperturbed about the rumors. Really, he didn¡¯t act like he believed any of it.


    The abrupt ring of applause jarred Dominique. She blinked her mismatched blue and green eyes and joined in clapping her hands. She saw Argullas bow slightly before dismounting the podium.


    ¡®Caspius is leaving. I¡¯m going to follow him. Do you want to come with me?¡¯ Nikkita didn¡¯t look at her as the thought entered Dominique¡¯s mind.


    ¡®I didn¡¯t come prepared, I¡¯ll return to the house and report,¡¯ She replied. Nikkita didn¡¯t need elaboration, and on a mission it was best to keep things short. Then she carefully dismounted from the edge of the fountain. Nikkita followed her and her sister¡¯s motions sent dull aches radiating from her side. Hopefully, Nikkita wouldn¡¯t be hindered too much from the injury.


    Nikkita looked at her. As always, Dominique saw her reflection mirrored in her sister. The only difference being their hair. Nikkita was all long silver locks that nearly glittered. Dominique liked her onyx black hair kept short, almost spikey.


    They nodded at each other before Nikkita turned and wove through the crowd of moving bodies with agility.


    Dominique put her hand to her side and sighed. Now she wished she had worn her own gear and be there to assist her twin. She didn¡¯t like to. She was best suited to watching and gathering information. Killing. Killing made her sick. She didn¡¯t vomit at death anymore, but her heart ached from it. For Nikkita, though, she would do anything for her twin without hesitation or remorse. She¡¯d kill anyone for Nikkita.


    Nikkita would do the same, she knew, but Nikkita took some dark joy in killing. Her twin used death as tool and she used it well. Together they made a perfect team, and they never failed.


    This task was only the latest for them. It had come as a great nuisance, though. Every time their master gave them a target, it meant that much more time away from their own projects. It had taken them years to earn themselves as much freedom as they had within their master¡¯s control. Freedom they could exploit. Freedom to find a way out.


    Each job was also another step in that direction. For fifteen years they had worked and suffered for their master. For fifteen years Dominique had watched her sister get beaten bloody and nearly killed more than once. For fifteen years, she herself had been beaten. Being forced to watch and feel her sister fight through all that pain had been worse than her own, however. And finally, Dominique had started working out some ideas.


    Finally, Dominique could see a future where her and Nikkita controlled their own lives.