Welcome to Gaia! ::

It's called Godsend. I was planing on posting some chapters here, so all you can read and possibly enjoy it.

First book: "Godsend: Revenge"
Second book: "Godsend: Memories"
Third book: "Godsend: Destruction"
Fourth book: "Godsend: Brothers"
Fifth book: "Godsend: Loss"
Sixth book: "Godsend: Journey"
Seventh book: "Godsend: Finale"

I'll try to post as often as I can, for anybody who will bother to read.

Exactly one hour before, the clouds had opened up and started crying. Now, they were sobbing freely, so much so that the execution had to be taken indoors. Yes, that’s right, I said execution.
It was my execution.
---*---

In the dark, damp depths of the dungeon, someone whistled a merry tune, despite what his future held. Other prisoners moaned and yelled at him to quite down. The guard standing outside his cell grit his teeth to prevent himself from going in there and strangling the man before he even got to his execution. The more he thought about it, the more he decided it was a great idea. It would save the kingdom a noose. The whistling continued.
The source of the whistling lay on the single cot of the dungeon cell, with his hands behind his head and one leg resting on the raised knee of the other. His eyes were closed to the darkness of his residence and his mouth curved into the tight “o” shape which produced the sound. He didn’t even know what he was whistling, he just was.
“Okay, shut up!” The guard yelled and threw the apple he had saved from his lunch at the man. Without even opening his eyes, the man caught it and continued his whistling while tossing his new toy up and catching it. “Damn, I can’t wait until you’re gone you punk.” The guard growled and turned back around.
The whistling soon came to a stop. “Speaking of my execution…” The man sat up and took a bite of the apple. “There are going to be a lot of pretty girls there, right?”
“Yeah, what of it?”
“Well….” He swallowed the apple and came so he was standing directly behind the guard. “Take a good whiff. I haven’t had a bath in a week, and I kind of smell. If I’m going to be executed in front of a bunch of pretty girls, I at least want to smell nice. Can’t I take a dip in the baths?”
“No.”
The man made a mock-gasp of surprise, “But doesn’t everyone on death-row get one last wish?”
“You already got it. We didn’t force you to become king, did we?”
That was what did it. The man grabbed the guard by the back of the head and dragged him back to whisper in his ear. “And why is that, huh? Maybe because when I ran away out of fear three years ago, you morons took it for a desertion to the kingdom! You wouldn’t make a deserter prince your king because you can’t stand the thought of a deserter having anything to do in your precious kingdom besides rotting in the ground!”
“Ha! You won’t even get to rot in the ground! We’re burning your half-breed corpse!”
“That’s quite enough.”
The two looked to the source of the new voice and found none other than Arkane Tarrant, new ruler of the kingdom, staring down at them. The frightened guard immediately pulled out of the man’s grasp and bowed.
“My lord Tarrant, please forgive the foolishness of me for lowering my guard to this despicable scum!”
“I said that’s enough!”
Arkane took a few steps forward and brought his foot back, snapping it forward to connect with the guard’s ribcage with a sickening crack. He fell forward and lay limp. The three guards that stood behind Arkane all gasped. “Lord Tarrant….I think you may have killed him!”
“He isn’t dead, simply knocked out.” He took a look at the man in the cell, and then turned to one of the guards, “You take him to the baths. Not the baths in the servant quarters either, the one in the royal suite. It is his last hour alive, after all, let’s not be crude to him.”
In fear of ending up like the other guard, the new one quickly obliged. He removed the ring of keys from the fallen man’s belt and unlocked the cell. The other two grabbed their prisoner and began their trek through the castle and up what seemed to them like a hundred flights of stairs, to the royal bath chamber. One left and the last guard was left alone with the man.
“All right, make it quick. The execution is in forty minutes.”
The man stripped down and stepped into the hot water. He sighed as his sore body was caressed by the steaming liquid. The guard turned the other way and leaned against the wall. He didn’t want to sit here and wait while this filth took a bath, but he knew if he didn’t, his fate would be similar to his comrade. He was already agitated with this punk. He’d had to sit at the entrance door to the dungeon earlier and listen to that disgusting song he had been whistling.
He groaned as the whistling started up again.
“Shut the hell up!”
The whistling stopped, and he heard the sound of splashing water, then silence. He thought maybe the b*****d finally understood he would soon die, and was mulling over his short, yet pathetic, life. He thought he would hear the sounds of his misery, and he thought he would relish in them. But, he didn’t hear wails, nor sobs, nor screams or shouts or crying, not even the sound of tears hitting the surface of the water.
‘Oh well,’ he thought. He quickly grew bored and looked at the signs on the wall to entertain himself. He, of course, couldn’t read, half of the entire kingdom couldn’t, but most of the signs were just pictures anyway. One of them caught his interest especially. It was a map of the baths. He thought it a little strange that there would be a map for a pool of hot water, before he saw that the pool was actually quite deep, and…
“s**t!” He turned and looked to in the bath. No one. He looked back to the sign. Deep down in the water, was a passage that led to the commoner hot springs.
“He’s escaped!” He screamed, running down the corridor, alerting everyone in his path. “The prisoner has escaped! He’s gone!”
---*---
My lungs felt about ready to burst, but I knew the other end was just ahead, so I kept swimming. The edges of my vision blurred black, and my head began to feel light. My efforts paid off though, and I soon surfaced above the water. The air was sweet and cool after the long, suffocating swim through the hot springs. I crawled out of the pool, choking out for air.
“So, you remembered that secret path, did you?”
I looked up and came face-to-face with a hooded man. I was immediately alert, but he didn’t seem to be a threat, so I relaxed a bit. He reached down a hand to help me up, and I took it, only then recognizing the metallic claw for a right arm. “Arkane!”
“Shh!” He put a finger to his lips and pushed me into one of the private changing stalls. “Dry off, and change into these.” He threw a towel and a set of dry clothes at me and shut the door just as I could here voices coming down the hall.
“The underwater passageway leads to here!”
Heavy, armor-clad footsteps approached and I could tell they were now in the same room. My heart beat a little faster, but I knew Arkane wouldn’t let them find me. Or, at least, I hoped he wouldn’t. A lot of people in the kingdom had changed drastically in the past three years, there was a possibility Arkane could be one of them.
“Who are you?” I recognized the voice of one of The Fifteen Diablos, Nodono, and he was talking to Arkane. The Diablos were a group of elite soldiers who earned the rank by doing horrible deeds with their inhuman strength and power. Nodono had gotten into the group by killing his own mother. Arkane had once been the leader of the Diablos, long before I had been born, but he had resigned. I sometimes wonder what he had done to earn the rank.
“Just a simple assassin hired by Lord Tarrant,” Arkane replied, “My partner and I heard the alert go out, and raced hear. We got here before the escaped prisoner did, but he managed to slip through our hands. My partner fell into the pool in the process, and he’s changing now.”
“I don’t care about any of that crap!” Nodono sounded angry. “How could you imbeciles let him escape? Lord Tarrant will have your lives for that.”
I heard receding footsteps and knew Nodono had left, so I figured it safe to come out. I pulled up the hood of the cloak Arkane had given me and covered my face with the scarf just in case though. Arkane stared at me with a look akin to pride. But there was a tint of sadness in that look too.
“Well, kid, I guess this is it.” He was talking about me escaping. Chances were, I would not be returning to this kingdom, and he couldn’t very well leave. He was stand-in for king.
“Yeah, I guess.” I could hear the sadness in my own voice. I would miss him. He had been my best friend, and somewhat of a father-figure. “I’ll send you letters, if I can find someone willing to deliver them.”
“No need for that.” And he tossed me a small package wrapped in brown paper. “Don’t open it now, save that for later. But, it will help us keep in contact.”
He smiled and, for some reason, that reassured me. I gave him a quick hug and left, my hood hiding a few stray tears.
---*---
Nodono stomped down the hallway to Arkane’s quarters, blowing off steam by pushing over anyone he passed. “Those incompetent little- how dare they let him escape? I don’t believe this!”
He arrived at the doors to his destination and pounded on them. “Lord Tarrant! Please, my lord, I wish to speak with you, I have some tragic news.”
“And what would that be?”
Nodono jumped and spun on his heel. Arkane stood behind him, with a stern look on his face.
“Oh, Lord Tarrant, it’s regarding the prisoner. Those so called assassins you hired allowed him to escape.”
Arkane yawned and brushed a hand through his chocolate brown hair. “Assassins? Frankly, my dear Nodono, I really have no clue what you are talking about. The prisoner escaped, you were supposed to be in charge of his execution, therefore, you will be held responsible.”
Nodono sputtered, “What? It wasn’t me! It was those assassins you hired!”
“I told you Nodono, there are no assassins.” He walked past the stunned, frozen man and into his room, a devious little smile glinting on his face. When he shut the door and was sure Nodono had left, and therefore couldn’t hear him, he laughed. Looking out his bedroom window, he could just barely make out the figure in a white cloak, moving quickly through the city below to the kingdom gates and his freedom.
“Good luck, Erik.”

My legs screamed in agony as I reached the top of yet another rise in the mountains. I’d been traveling for a few days now, and the kingdom I had left behind, the place I had once called my home, was just a shadow in the distance behind me. My new home, the place in which I was going, was a shadow in the distance ahead of me. I was only half way there, and my body felt about ready to give out.
“Dammit,” I huffed, sitting down on a rock to catch my breath. I had never really been in good shape. I was always sick in bed as a kid, and really only got around to training with a sword at the age of twelve. Only six years ago. I still wasn’t very good, I knew. I thanked the Gods that the thin tree branch I was carrying around hadn’t needed to be used yet.
Thunder boomed in the distance. It would storm yet again tonight. The kingdom of Dezrei was known for its mountains and fierce storms. Not a good combination for a lone traveler with no supplies, let alone food.
I sighed and got to my feet again as the first few drops began to fall. I was halfway between the two kingdoms, which meant the border town must be close. That was good, because I didn’t know how much longer I could go on without food.
In situation like this, some people pray. I, on the other hand, no longer trusted any of the Gods to protect me in my times of need. Not even Arkane, who was the God of Death. I could pray as much as I dared, but Arkane was three days travel away, pretending he didn’t know a thing about my disappearance.
I stopped in my tracks at this thought. Arkane had helped me escape, so he had been there for me…In fact, he’d always been there for me. I now felt bad for my doubts.
It was then I remembered the package Arkane had given me. I had put it in the pocket of my pants three days ago and forgotten all about it. I now pulled it out and opened it, inspecting the strange device within. I recognized it from flyers hanging around the city three years ago before I was branded as a criminal. It was called a Handheld Electronic Communication Supplier, or HECS (Hex), for short. The highest form of technology Dezrei had. It was a foreign shipment from Roselia. It was about the size of my hand, and had a small screen on it, along with a few buttons. I, of course, had no idea how to use it, but I was headed for Roselia, where it originated. I was bound to learn quickly.
I put the HECS back in my pocket as the rain grew steadily harder. I didn’t know if rain would ruin it or not, but I wasn’t going to take any chances. Thunder boomed directly over my head and I looked up, squinting against the rain and…tears? I raised my hand to my eye and, sure enough, felt something warm and wet. Why was I crying? I didn’t know, and probably will never know. I was dehydrated, hungry, probably verging on sickness as well. I was losing my mind.
I used the branch I was carrying as a crutch and continued my way down the mountain. This was the last one, and I could see the border town right below me. Maybe I would make it after all.
---*---
Rose sighed as she breathed in the fresh rain-scented air. She was finally free! She didn’t regret a thing. Though she would miss her parents and all her friends, this is what she had wanted for a long time. To finally be free of the kingdom, and all the responsibilities forced on her as princess. She hated it all, but what she hated the most, was the discrimination against Half-Elves. So, she was on her way to the kingdom of Dezrei, in hopes that it would be better.
She jumped at the sound of thunder booming in the distance. She was getting closer and closer to Dezrei, which was usually always plagued by storms. That was what she looked forward to the least. She hated thunder storms, ever since she was four years old and got stuck outside in one overnight. She shuddered at the thought of living in a kingdom where there was, on average, a thunder storm every night.
The storm was coming from the direction she was headed, and would probably be right over the border town by the time she reached it. Before she took another step in that direction though, she turned and faced the rolling plains of green grass she would be leaving behind. “Goodbye Roselia! I’ll miss you, but until you can learn to treat everyone fairly, I will not be returning.” She blew a kiss to the distant shadow of her kingdom, and turned away from it for the last time.
“Dezrei, here I come. Get ready for me.”

It was an hour or more before Rose finally got to the border town, and the storm was in full-force. She pulled her dark green cloak tightly around her, as if it would protect her from the booming thunder overhead, which is what she was really afraid of. There was no one on the streets when she entered the town, which was to be expected. Who would want to be outside in weather like this?
She shivered and went to the door of the local Inn. It was indented slightly, and the roof overhead granted her a little protection. She raised her hand to the knob and turned, but it was locked. She knocked loud enough to be heard over the storm. She waited, and waited, and waited, but no one came to the door. “Oh come on!” She shouted. She was beginning to fear she may have to repeat that night when she was four, shivering and sobbing under a large tree.
An old man poked his head out of a window in a nearby house. “What’s all the ruckus over there?”
Rose ran over to him. “Please, sir, could you let me in? I have no where to stay, and it appears as if the owner of the Inn isn’t…in.” She sounded stupid, she knew, but she was getting desperate.
The old man gave her a good look-over. Rose thought him a pervert, but realized, he really didn’t have much to look at to begin with. She was only seventeen, and she didn’t have many curves or other womanly features yet. Besides, anything she would have was covered by her cloak and thick layers of traveling clothes.
“Sir?”
“If you need someplace to stay, missy,” He said, “The Tavern across the street there is always open. They should have a few spare rooms, cheaper than the Inn too.”
Rose looked across the street; there was a small building with a sign depicting a pitcher of beer and a fork. “The Tavern? Isn’t that where men go to get drunk and hit on women?”
The old man laughed. “Don’t worry; just keep all those clothes on and you’ll be fine. Young men don’t hit on anyone wearing more than strings and tape these days. Would you like me to give you some money to pay for a room?”
Rose jumped again as more thunder boomed, louder this time. “No. Thank you very much, but I can pay for it myself.” She thanked the old man again and crossed the street to the Tavern. This door was unlocked, and she quickly went in to the warmth and light of the cozy little pub. There weren’t too many people inside, which she was thankful for, but out of everyone she saw, there wasn’t one other woman. Even the owner was a man, despite all the stories she’d heard of female Tavern Masters.
She walked up to the bar and sat down. The owner was a friendly-looking old man, who introduced himself as Anders. “Can I help you ma’am?”
Rose pulled down her hood, not sure if people in this town would recognize her as the run-away princess of Roselia. “I’d like to rent a room for the night, if I may?”
Anders smiled happily, “Of course you may. It’ll just be twenty Gold chips.”
Rose almost scoffed. Only twenty Gold chips? She’d never paid so little for anything in her life. She just hoped the room didn’t match the price. She dug in her bag and handed him the money. He handed her a key with a Roman Numeral II engraved in it.
“Room number two, just down that hallway back there.” Anders pointed to a hallway to the right of the bar, “You can go get yourself changed out of those wet clothes, and come on back for supper. It’s free with the room.”
Rose nodded in thanks and went down the hallway to her room. She was actually very surprised when she opened the door. The room was nice. Not ugly, stinky, moldy, slimy, or yucky at all. Not how she had imagined it. Sure, it was nothing compared to her room back home, but it wasn’t bad. There was a comfy-looking bed, a dresser with a vanity mirror, a trunk to keep precious belongings in, and the window had a cushion seat. It was….cozy.
She closed the door and quickly peeled off her wet cloak. It had done its job and kept the clothing beneath it relatively dry, but they stunk, so she dug one of her favorite green T-shirts and a pair of brown pants out of her bag. It would do for now.
After changing into the clean clothes, she went back out into the restaurant part of the tavern and sat down at the bar. Anders smiled warmly at her and set down a plate of what looked to Rose like large shell-noodles covered in cheese and tomato sauce. It actually looked pretty good. “Thanks,” she said, and accepted the fork he handed to her.
“Would you like something to drink?”
“Oh, umm…” Rose looked nervously at the bottles lining the back wall behind the bar. “If you have anything non-alcoholic…”
Anders laughed. “Just water I’m afraid, little lady.”
“Water will be fine then, and please, call me Rose.” She regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth. She wasn’t wearing her cloak now, she had given her real name, and surely everyone here had heard about her running away by now. But, Anders just nodded and turned to get her a glass of water. She gave a sigh of relief.
“You know, my wife’s name was Rose. Rosie, I called her.” He said, handing her the glass.
“Really? It’s a very common name in Roselia, is that where she’s from?”
“Yeah, she was from Roselia, and I’m originally from Dezrei.”
Rose nearly spit out the large sip of water she had just taken; Roselia and Dezrei, though neighboring kingdoms, where usually at war. It was rare for two people from enemy kingdoms to end up together. At least, she’d only heard of a few cases.
Anders pulled a locket out form underneath his shirt and opened it. “This here’s her on our wedding day.” The locket contained a tiny picture of a beautiful Elven woman in a shimmering white, blue and green wedding dress. She was definitely Roselian. Roselia was the Kingdom of the Elves, and its regional colors were green and blue.
Unlike Dezrei, whose population consisted mainly of humans, and their colors were black and red. Rose always thought it made them look evil, but if they treated Half-elves even a tiny bit better than Roselia did, she would be fine with that.
“She’s very pretty,” Rose said after swallowing.
“Yeah, I miss her.” Anders got a sad look on his face and it was only then that Rose realized he’d been talking about her in past tense.
“Oh…I’m sorry, I didn’t realize…how did she die?”
“She developed a rare sickness that deteriorated her vital organs; she was diagnosed in year three of the second age, died year four.”
“That’s awful, she didn’t suffer I hope.”
Anders sighed and closed the locket, tucking it back underneath his shirt. “Unfortunately, but she went really peaceful in her sleep.”
Rose noticed the sound of oncoming tears in the old man’s voice and decided it would be best to change the subject. “This storm’s pretty bad, huh?”
As if on cue, thunder boomed outside. Anders nodded, “Yeah, Dezrei and its storms. Then, right past here in Roselia, they’ve probably got sunshine and warm temperatures right now. Or…” He glanced at the clock; it read 9:50 at night. “Maybe not sunshine, but you got my point.”
Rose laughed, “Yeah, There aren’t very many storms beyond the border in Roselia.”
“With us being right between the two kingdoms, the storms hit the worst here, and we get a lot of tornadoes too.” He went around the bar and over to the window, the sky was dark, but there didn’t appear to be any signs of tornado activity. More thunder boomed. “It looks like this storm may last all night, you’re lucky you got here when you did.”
Rose nodded. She felt very lucky.
“You’d better eat up; your food’s getting cold.”
“Oh!” Rose had forgotten all about the food, but she now picked up her fork and began eating with renewed vigor.
“It’s really good!” She said between mouthfuls. This was both her being herself, and an attempt at hiding her true identity. No princess would talk with their mouth full; at least, not in public.

A half hour later and Rose had cleaned her plate. Anders smiled. “I guess you really liked it, huh?”
“Yeah, it was good.”
“It was a recipe of my wife’s.” He said, “She was a good cook.”
Rose sighed in contentment and slid down from the tall bar stool. There were still a few people in the pub, but most had gone to bed by now. She couldn’t help but stare at a few shady-looking guys sitting in the corner. When they started staring back, she quickly looked away.
“I think I’ll go to bed now.”
“Okay then, Miss Rose. Goodnight.”
Rose nodded and turned to go down the hallway to her room. One of the guys in the corner also got up; she could see him out the corner of her eye. She began to panic. Was he following her? Was he planning on doing something to her?
Her thoughts and fears where interrupted by a piercing scream coming from outside.
“What was that?”
Anders reached under the bar and brought out a rifle. The men in the corner all drew their swords. Everyone crowded around the windows and door, except Rose. Rose stood paralyzed on the spot. The scream had terrified her. It was a scream that could curdle blood. It was the scream of a dying man, or one who knew death would soon come to him. She hated that sound. And, unfortunately, she’d heard it many times.
“There’s a guy out there being attacked!”
Several of the men left the Tavern to go to the man’s aid, and Rose gained enough courage to go to the window to look. A man in a blood-stained white cloak lay motionless on the ground, surrounded by several little black creatures known appropriately as Storms Nymphs, for they only appeared in harsh weather. They may have been small, but sharp poison-tipped fangs in their little black mouths proved to be more deadly than any sword. And it looked as if the man had been bitten quite a few times.
The men from the tavern swung their swords at the small creatures. Most of the attacks missed, but it made no difference. The Storm Nymphs flew off. As the men picked up the guy in white and brought him inside, Rose backed away. She silently cursed her heritage. Elves have heightened senses, including smell. This man reeked of blood and suffering.
Anders put the rifle back underneath the bar and waved for the group carrying the cloaked man to follow him. “Bring him back here. One of you, go get the doctor. He lives in the house across the street.”
As they disappeared down the hall, one man broke off from the group and left the Tavern. The stench of blood subsided a little, but it still made Rose want to vomit. She followed the group hesitantly. She knew the man was most likely dead, but she felt as if she were involved in this matter somehow.
‘That’s stupid,’ she told herself, ‘just because I was here when he died, doesn’t mean it has anything to do with me.’ She wished she could reassure herself of that, but the sudden solemn atmosphere that had just fallen over the Tavern was messing with her mind. She followed the smell of blood to the room right across the hall from hers. ‘Great, does that mean I’ll have to smell this all night?’
She peered inside the room. Anders stood over the bed where the man’s limp body lay, while the others removed his soiled clothing.
“You,” Anders said, pointing to a man with red hair and 5 o’ clock shadow, “go to the kitchen and get two big bowls of water ready for the doctor; one cold, one warm. You,” He pointed to a blond man as the red-head left the room, “Go to the closet at the end of the hall and get a bunch of towels. And you,” He pointed at Rose. She took a step back. “Come here. My eyes and ears aren’t what they used to be. I need help to even determine if this guy’s still alive.”
Rose gulped and stepped into the room. It seemed to have a twenty degree temperature difference from the hallway. She figured it was probably just nerves. She’d seen many men killed before; being the princess meant attending public executions. But she had never actually seen a dead body close up. As she approached the bed though, she got her first good look at the man.
His skin, naturally pale by the looks of it, probably made him look dead, even if he was wide awake and talking to you. The dark circles under his eyes also added to that. Illness had probably been with him for a while. His pitch black hair was un-brushed, his lips dry, cracked and bleeding, and the wounds covering his fragile-looking body almost certainly marked him as a dead man.
If it weren’t for the fact that he was breathing.
“He-he’s breathing! He’s still alive!”
Just then, the two men came back with the supplies Anders had sent them to get, and the third man returned with the doctor. Rose recognized him as the old man she’d talked to when she couldn’t get into the Inn. He pushed past her and knelt near the bed, immediately beginning to check the man’s vitals.
“Storm Nymph poison,” He laughed and stood back up. “Poor fellow’s lucky. My wife just whipped up a fresh antidote last night. I’ll be right back. Keep him alive for another minute Anders?”
Anders smiled, “Yes, thank you Jonathan.”
As soon as the doctor left, the three men went back out to the dining room to return to their beer. Anders sighed and pulled a stool up to the bed, sitting down on it and staring at the unconscious man. “I’m too old for this.” He complained.
Rose laughed, “At least he’ll be okay, right? You won’t have to deal with the chance of your Tavern being blamed for his death.”
Anders laughed too, “Yes, I suppose you’re right about that.”
In the silence that followed until the doctor returned, Rose never took her eyes off the unconscious man in the bed. His breathing was shallow, and his wounds bled freely. She was sure both she and Anders shared the feeling to clean him up their selves, but were afraid if they touched him, he’d shatter to a million pieces. She also noticed that he wasn’t that old; around her age in fact. And, he looked vaguely familiar. It was strange; since she’d never met a Dezreian (she could tell he was Dezreian because of his dark hair and lack of elven features) her own age before.
‘Where have I seen him before?’
Before she could contemplate it further, the doctor returned with a small bottle of a salmon-colored liquid. “He just needs to drink this, and it will flush the poison from his body.”
Anders looked at him skeptically, “By ‘flush’, you mean…”
“He’ll puke it out.”
“Great,” Anders threw his hands in the air and stood up. “Now my Tavern will smell of not only blood, but vomit as well. I’ll have to get it fumigated.” He continued to grumble as he left the room. Rose took his spot on the stool, and watched as the doctor lifted the man’s head and poured the liquid down his throat.
“You’re that girl who was trying to get into the Inn earlier, aren’t you?”
Rose was startled by the question; she hadn’t been paying attention to anything except trying to remember where she’d seen this guy before. She nodded, “Yes. Thank you for suggesting the Tavern.”
“Don’t mention it.” The doctor used one of the towels the other guy had brought in to wipe up some of the antidote as the man coughed some of it up. He then set to work stitching up his wounds. Harsh gasps and hisses through clenched teeth proved the man to be very much alive, and possibly even awake.
Rose yawned, suddenly realizing how tired she was. The doctor noticed and looked up from his work. “You should go to bed.”
Rose shook her head, “No, I don’t want to. I have a nagging feeling in the back of my mind that I’ve seen this guy somewhere before, and I want to know where.”
“Well, if it’s bothering you enough to prevent you from wanting to sleep, I doubt it’s at the back of your mind. Go to bed. You might remember in the morning. Or, I’m sure he’ll be well enough to speak tomorrow; you could ask him yourself.”
Rose finally gave in and nodded. “Okay, I’ll do that.” She stood up from the stool and stretched. “Goodnight then.”
“Goodnight.”
She left the room and went straight across the hall to her own room. Her clothes were comfortable enough to sleep in, so she just crawled into bed and began to doze off. Before sleep overtook her, she heard the faint sounds of someone vomiting in the other room.
---*---
Rose held her mother’s hands tightly as they stood on the grand balcony of the Dezreian castle. The scene below them was a grotesque one. Burned corpses in towering piles and littered all over the city; the remains of houses and stores, Inns and restaurants, carts from the annual Grand Market, and weapons sticking out of the ground everywhere. It was what remained of Dezrei after the Great War. The God of Evil, oFea, had launched an ambush on the kingdom as a sort of revenge against the king.
Rose watched her father’s blue-clad form below, searching through the piles of corpses. He had raced to Dezrei on his own as soon as he learned of the attack, in order to help the king of Dezrei, who had been his best friend as a child. Rose and her mother had come later, after he’d sent them a letter saying the fighting was over.
He was searching for his friend now. When he’d gotten there, he’d helped in the fighting, but never saw the king. Even now, two days later, he still hadn’t been found. The queen was missing as well; last she was seen, she’d been playing with their son in his room to keep his worries off the war going on right outside. Since the two had been missing for two days, they had been declared dead, but to prove that, their bodies needed to be found.
Rose looked up to her mother, “Mommy? Can I go play with the prince?” The prince of Dezrei was around her own age, and she was somewhat bored just standing here waiting for her father. She was only five after all; she didn’t understand the seriousness of the situation.
Rose’s mother shook her head, “Not now Rosie dear.”
“But why not? I wanna meet the prince!”
Her mother simply ignored her pleas, and watched her husband search through the bodies down below. A man with dark hair and a metal claw for an arm came up to him; she recognized him as their friend, Arkane.
“Mommy, who’s that man with the claw? He’s not going to hurt daddy, is he?”
“No, sweetheart, Arkane is a good friend of ours, he’d never hurt your father. In fact, he’s saved him many times before.”
Rose felt immediate liking for this man with the metal arm, even though he looked kind of scary. She watched as he and her father exchanged a few words, before both went further into the chaos that was the charred remains of the once great kingdom.
It was several hours later and Rose and her mother were about ready to return home, when Rose’s father burst into the Grand Hall of the castle. Arkane followed close behind him, carrying the limp body of a woman. Everyone in the hall gasped; one woman screamed and Rose heard a ‘thump’ as she fainted and hit the floor.
“Oh! Elizabeth!”
Rose’s mother left her side and ran to the woman as Arkane laid her on the floor. Rose had never seen her mother cry before, so she would remember this sight for the rest of her life. Her mother grabbed the dead woman’s hand as if it were her own lifeline, and sobbed. Her father came up behind her and wrapped her in his arms. Rose had no idea what was happening, but seeing her parents so sad made her sad as well.
“Mother!”
Suddenly, a small boy with long black hair and pale skin ran into the hall. He rushed to where his mother lay dead on the floor, but was scooped up by Arkane before he could reach her. He started screaming.
“Let me go! Let me go Arkane! Unhand me you monster! Mother! Mother!”
Without a word, Arkane carried the boy out of the hall, and his screams slowly faded away. But, he’d made enough of an impression on Rose for her to remember…

---*---
Rose opened her eyes to a sunny morning; sunlight streamed in through her open window. She was confused for a moment, before she remembered where she was. The events of last night came flooding back to her. The Inn being closed….the storm…the Tavern…Storm Nymphs…the familiar-looking man…
“It’s him! The boy from Dezrei all those years ago!” She knew it had to be him. There was just something about his presence that she couldn’t feel with anyone else.
She climbed out of bed, rubbing a crick out of her neck and stretching. She went to the corner where she’d dropped her bag last night and dug a fresh pair of clothes out of it; which reminded her, she’d have to find someplace to do laundry soon.
As soon as she was changed and packed everything up, she hoisted her bag onto her shoulder and left the room. The room across the hall had the door wide open, and she could see that a bucket of soapy water stood on the floor, and the bed had been stripped of the sheets, probably to be cleaned of blood.
But he wasn’t there.
She turned to go out into the dining room, but ran right into somebody.
“Oh! I’m sorry, I-,” She cut off when she saw the man’s face; pale, smooth skin, framed by black silk. “Oh, it’s you.” She bowed in apologies, “I’m sorry…uh…how are you feeling?”
He looked at her with what she would call confusion. “I’m…fine…thank you.” He lowered his eyes, as if he were doing her harm by looking at her, and politely slid past her into the room, where he collected his cloak and scarf, which looked like they’d been cleaned.
“Are…you leaving already? Shouldn’t you give your wounds more time to heal?”
He scoffed, “I haven’t got time. I’d rather not stay within the limits of Dezrei’s search patrol for long.”
He walked past her again and she followed him into the dining room.
“You’re….on the run?”
He turned around and slapped a hand over her mouth. Anders, who was behind the bar reading a book, looked up at them suspiciously.
“Shut your mouth girl.” The man whispered furiously, “I make it a point not to get myself caught once I escape, and if you shoot your mouth off around me, I won’t be able to keep that point.”
He removed her hand. Rose almost wanted to scream and hold up a big sign that said: THIS MAN’S A CRIMINAL! ARREST HIM! ‘Seriously! How dare he lay hands on a princess like that?’ It was then she remembered, ‘That’s right. I’m not a princess anymore. He wouldn’t know anyway.’
She snapped out of her little anger-daze when she realized he had gone on ahead. He stood in front of the bar, and seemed to be in an argument with Anders.
“Listen, I realize I will have to pay you back for kindly letting me stay the night,”
“And keeping you alive.”
“Uh, yes; that too. But, I don’t have any money at the moment. I’m on my way to Roselia, and I’ll be able to access my account from there. I’ll send you the money then.”
“That won’t work.”
Anders reached under the bar and brought out the rifle Rose had seen last night. He cocked it and pointed it straight at the man’s chest. Rose jumped back, even though it wasn’t aimed at her. “Hey! Anders, are you crazy?”
“Quiet down, Miss Rose, I ain’t going to shoot, so long as he pays up.”
The stoic, serene look remained on the man’s face. “I believe I just told you I have no money at the moment.”
Anders snarled, “And you expect me to believe that you’ll pay me in a week, when you reach Roselia? When you’ll have forgotten all about it? I didn’t just let you stay the night, you know. I damn saved your sorry life. I’d say you should pay double what the room itself would cost.”
His grip on the gun tightened, and Rose was afraid he would shoot. Her heart thudded in her chest. “Stop! Anders, put the gun away; I’ll pay for his room.”
Both men looked at her skeptically as she pulled forty more gold chips out of her bag and dumped them on the counter. “There, twice the amount the room cost.” She closed her bag back up and began pushing the man along so they could get out of there.
Then, she heard the gunshot.
A blood-curdling scream ripped itself from her throat as she was thrown to the ground behind a table. The table then seemed to set itself on its side as a makeshift shield from the rain of bullets that issued from Anders’ gun.
“Do you have a weapon?”
“Huh?” She looked beside her, where the man sat holding the table in its position. He’d saved her.
“Did you hear me?”
“Oh!” She unhooked her short sword from her belt and handed it to him.
“Heh, kind of small, but it will have to do!” He jumped over the table and rose heard the sound of bullets screeching off metal.
‘Is he really deflecting all those with that skimpy little sword?’
Suddenly, the gunshots stopped, and Rose figured it might be safe to look. The sight that greeted her was not what she expected though. The man stood on one side of the counter, holding Anders, who was on the other side, by the neck. The rifle slid from the old man’s hands as he grabbed at the hand on his throat. A stray shot echoed through the building as the gun hit the ground, and a large explosion followed. A spare gas tank that sat in the corner for use in the kitchen had taken the bullet.
Rose buried her head in her hands as fire engulfed the building. ‘This is it. This is where I’m going to die. Great!’
“Ahhh!”
She looked up at the sound of the gurgling scream. The man was gripping at Anders throat hard enough that his nails dug into the skin, and the old man bled. But that wasn’t the strangest thing; this man, whoever he was, seemed to be…glowing. He was surrounded by a faint golden light that the fire licked around, leaving him completely unharmed as the flames began eating their way up Anders’ body.
“Do you really wish to die here, old man? Is money really so important to you that you would lose your Tavern and your life just because one man couldn’t pay for his own room?”
Anders laughed; blood spurted from his mouth like a dark fountain. “Heh, you think this is about money? No, it’s because of what you did to Dezrei.”
Rose saw the man’s shoulders tense for a second, and then his own cynical laughter tore through the roaring fire. “You, as well as every other Dezreian, know nothing of what happened that day three years ago!”
“Oh we know!” Anders screamed; more blood trickled out of his mouth. It pained Rose to watch, “Three years ago, you were to be crowned king! You got scared, and decided you’d rather live a life of crime than help your home become a better place! You betrayed us! You made us suffer!”
Rose’s eyes widened. Crowned king? This man…was Dezreian royalty? She tried to remember the boy she had seen in Dezrei, almost twelve years ago, crying and screaming for his dead mother. She couldn’t remember anything about him that had pointed him out as the prince at the time, but he had to have been!
“And, it’s not just that,” Anders continued, “It’s also because I know what you are, and you sicken me!”
The old man’s words were cut off as his windpipe was crushed. His lifeless body dropped to the floor, and the man, the former prince of Dezrei, Erik Gilpher, turned to face her, his eyes shone blood red in the scorching flames.