Gold-plated

[Maeve]

Maeve wondered why this had ever been a trade route. It was an old one, but the closer one got to the Thar of Shaddin the more miserable it got. The path went through rocky cliffs before finally coming out onto… a barren plain. Wonderful. Maeve was ashamed to think back on that moment when she emerged from the rocks only to find a grassland of rolling hills that had a few scraggly bushes here and there but was otherwise an empty, sweltering plane of hell. Upon seeing that, she had collapsed to her knees and moaned aloud and stayed there for a good hour, enjoying the last moment she had in the semi-shade of the cliffs. She had been walking for days and hadn’t seen one person coming from the other way, which made her paranoid, and now she wasn’t even sure of how far she was from reaching the next town or city. Also, she was dead tired. She hadn’t slept in days, instead kept walking, always walking. That was because she had run out of water. The sooner she got there, the better.

She walked wearily, her cloak trailing behind her in the wind and the hood up to cover her head. The air was oppressive, not just from the temperature but also because the air was dry like old parchment, scratching the inside of her nose and the back of her throat. Despite the temperature, the cloak provided some relief from the strength of the sun. The sky was a deep, bright blue without a cloud in sight. She felt like she might collapse. There were no trees to shade her and whisper comforting words, or even just something she could eat or drink. She wished she could have brought a horse, but the stablehand had advised against going to Thar Shaddin with one. There wouldn’t be enough water to sustain the both of them unless she wanted to bring a whole cart of supplies with her. Maeve did not like to be fettered down with stuff when she travelled, especially when she was going to a new place, because that was just asking for trouble in her experience. Now she was second-guessing her decision.

Maeve saw something ahead and stared at it as she walked. It was faint, but she thought she saw buildings. A mirage? Wishful thinking? She kept her eyes on it and the road and eventually it started to become clearer. It was still a day away, she wagered, but yes, there it was: a town. It looked small and as the day progressed she could see more and more of the buildings, and there was a hill with a large house upon it, and a bit of green like there were trees. There were also crops surrounding the immediate vicinity of the town. That meant water, for sure, and people.

Near nightfall she was close to the town. After all this effort, she felt so faint she feared she might collapse. Wouldn’t that be lame, she thought. The sun sunk closer and closer to the town before sinking below the forest and the hill. The sky was set on fire, and she looked up at it dazed for a moment, before collapsing on the path that cut straight through Shim. She was sprawled out, cloak hiding her form and face, and in the setting sun there was little light to see her by.

[Maeve]

The first thing she felt was pain. Her whole body ached, her throat and lips were cracked, and there was an arousing smell of food—human food—that made her stomach squeeze in hunger bordering on starvation. Her eyes slowly opened, only to see white. When her eyes focused, she realized it was a painted plaster ceiling. She blinked slowly and looked to her side. It hurt to move, but she forced herself to do it anyway. What she saw was a very small room crowded with the bed in which she lay and a dresser. The bed frame, dresser, and floor were made out of a light brown wood but the sheets were white like the walls and ceiling. She felt strange being here. And confused.

The half-dryad sat up, then groaned as the room spun dizzily. When her eyes focused there was a person in the room and she stared at them, slightly shocked. She hadn't heard them enter. They were dressed in all black formal clothes, like they were going to an Eyropan funeral. They were staring at her with black eyes, unmoving. She opened her mouth to speak, but she blinked before she could. A startled gasp mixed with a choked cry came out of her throat, instead, when she found the person standing right beside the bed. Suddenly the form moved and grabbed her arm. She screamed as it pulled her off the bed.

She collapsed onto the floor, and when she realized what had happened, the apparition was gone. The sheets were tangled around her legs, her stomach to the floor, her body spread out and aching with a new fervor. Someone entered, but she was having trouble focusing. When they touched her shoulder, she lashed out, knocking them back.

Suddenly clarity struck her like a smack to the face and she looked at the person. It was a young man, a boy in his late teens perhaps, browned from working in the sun with short blond hair. He was looking at her with a mix of fright and concern. She groaned and clutched at her head and looked back up at the bed. She wasn't sure if she had just fallen off, or whether something had pulled her off. Still a little dazed, she tried to untangle herself from the blankets.

The young man was spurred into action by her feeble wriggling and helped her to push the blankets off. He then helped her sit up when she motioned to do so. Maeve noticed a puddle of water on the floor next to a cracked cup and looked up at him. “I was bringing you water. Let me get you some more.” He grabbed the cup gingerly and hurried out. When he came back he was carrying another fresh cup and a washcloth. He handed her the drink and, when he was sure she was okay enough to handle it, watched her as she drank while he mopped up the spill with the cloth. After Maeve gulped it down she silently looked right back at the young man in a silent challenge. He seemed nervous. She looked down at herself, and realized she was only in the plain white tanktop and shorts that she oftentimes wore underneath her armor. The water had partially spilled on her, and her dark skin showed through. She smiled wryly, and looked back at him.

“Where's my stuff?” Maeve demanded suddenly. Her brows furrowed and her smile disappeared.

Flustered, the boy almost choked when she spoke. Instead he nodded dumbly and held the dripping cloth still. “I'll get them,” he managed and ran off again, dripping water in a trail behind him.

He came back with her backpack, cloak, and armor in a big folded heap. He set it on the bed and stood there watching her nervously. She stumbled to her feet with the help of the bed and started shuffling through her stuff. Nothing was missing. All her magic items had been placed carefully in her bag. She realized why he was so nervous and wide-eyed as he looked at her. Almost angrily she shoved the charm bracelet on and put the amulet back around her neck. He had no idea that she could have woken up just to chew his neck off without the protection of the amulet. Or he may have been spurred to touch her as she lay unconscious. He may have done so. She fixed him with a look. His face looked a little clearer as he stared at her, but it still got red when she stared back.

He gulped when she siddled smoothly up against him. He stiffened as she slowly reached up, until she had grabbed the collar of his shirt. The cloth creaked as she tightened it in her fist. She snarled at him and asked, “Where is this?”

“My—my house...”

“No, what city?” She tightened her grip even more.

“Uh...the—Shim... It's a town, really... If—if you're looking for Marn, that's...”

She let him go with a rough shove and turned to her stuff. He shut up, frozen to the spot.

She already knew about Marn. But Shim, huh? Somehow she had survived long enough to get here. Somehow.

Quickly the part-succubus donned her armor and situated her backpack on her back. Then she twirled the cloak around her and fastened it at her throat. A thought had occurred to her, almost suddenly. Up until now, his “theft” and “lewdness” had gotten her angry, but in reality, she realized he had helped her. Saved her. She had collapsed in the road, and he, or someone he knew, had gotten her in here, given her water, and was cooking her food.

She looked at him apologetically and asked, in as nice a tone as she could, “Would you have something to eat? I can pay you for it.”

“No! No problem at all!” he said, waving his hands. “My mom is cooking up a stew. She said it would help you get hydrated again, and also relieve your hunger. It's almost ready. She's been making it since you got here last night.”

Maeve's eyes went to the window. Late afternoon, she guessed. It was hard to tell when she was inside, but it was still fairly obvious. She sighed and walked out of the room. He followed behind her hesitatingly. He was still intimidated by her, even with her magic partially sealed by power objects. It was probably the memory of how he had felt before; he clinged to it, the residues of magic and memory. She grunted at the thought. Humans. Couldn't let things go.

There was an older woman with salt-and-pepper hair up in a bun stirring a pot in the open room they emerged in. The house was small and modest. The living room and kitchen were one continuous part of the house. It made her sneer. Still, she was grateful. The stew was smelling wonderful, and she voiced so. The woman smiled at her and gestured to a seat, saying, “It's just about done. I'm sure you're starving.”

For the next hour Maeve ate with them and made small talk. The stew was a proper stew, slowly simmered with plenty of vegetables. There was meat too, but she just avoided eating it. She didn't care for the taste of it that had spread throughout the stew, but there was nothing for it. It was helping relieve the thirst and hunger at the same time, just as the mother had foretold.

As they talked, they were fairly circumspect about the area and kept their curiosity about their guest to themselves. Sometimes, she was grateful for small town folk's manners. A rich person would have politely and shrewdly tried to get the information out of her with jest, implication, and body language. It was nice to be among people who knew the benefit of keeping to themselves.

She would need the money for an inn or apartment, but she dug through her backpack and took out 100 bishani, anyway. They tried to refuse it, but she insisted, leaving it on the table. She got up and went with them to the door. They said goodbye and she thanked them again. Right in front of the mother, she curled a finger under the young man's chin and brought his lips to hers in a chaste kiss. She smiled at his blushing, wide-eyed face. Then, she turned and walked away, her cloak and long black hair trailing behind her like a shadow even in the bright sunlight.

[Maeve]

"Wait!"

Maeve stopped and turned around. The teenager was standing in the doorway with a red, yearning face. The mother was behind him and not looking very pleased. That, more than the boy, made Maeve smile in amusement.

"Where will you go?" the teenager asked.

Maeve was silent a moment. Then she turned back around and headed their way, until she could see them in the dark doorway better. "Marn," she said, simply. Frankly, she was puzzled why he cared.

He nodded solemnly. "Then there's something you need to know."

“Now, honey, you should let her be…” the mother said, putting a hand on the teen’s shoulder. She cast a glance at the neighbors and the few people who were nearby. The house was situated not far from the main road, and there were quite a few people tending to their business nearby. More than a few of them were casting suspicious glances. Maeve was used to that attention in small towns, and was not fazed. The boy was obviously nervous from it, though, but he ignored the chastisement from his mother and plowed on.

“They don’t…like magic there.”

Maeve frowned. “What do you mean?”

The mother sighed. “You’d better come back inside, deary.” She looked past Maeve’s dark form at the neighbors again and beckoned Maeve at the same time. The magical hybrid followed the two back inside and closed the door behind her. Frowning, she asked, “What is this about?”

“We have a trained eye for ‘certain outsiders’ here. We could tell almost immediately that you weren’t just foreign." The mother smiled at her in a patient way.

"You’re also magical. Aren’t you?” the teen interjected.

Maeve’s head spun. Magical? She hadn’t ever thought of herself as magical. A fae like her mother, perhaps, but not her. Her mother could restore a whole forest after a forest fire. She could also sing like the smooth sound of water flowing or peaceful light wind on a quiet day. Her mother was magical. She, herself, was…

“Your eyes give you away. You’ve gotta hide your eyes. Otherwise I suppose it’s hard to tell. But there are dangerous people who have a sense for these things in Marn.”

Maeve’s eyebrows came down dangerously. “Who are these people?”

“Battlemages.”

The way he said it was ominous. It made a shiver run down her spine. It wasn’t the word itself; it was the fear in his eyes and the quaking in his voice. All she could think to say was, “Why?”

The mother chimed in on this one. “Magic is an aberration.” Maeve did not appreciate her tone; it was matter-of-fact, but also arrogant, like she knew better than Maeve did. “It is the corruption of the world. We are better off without it. I’m sure you know this more than anyone. The Battlemages are our protection against magic from destroying the good people of Thar Shaddin.”

Maeve was dumbstruck. She had been amongst humans that hated magic, but she had never encountered this viewpoint before. She didn’t know what to say or do in the face of this accusation. Her eyes fell to the floor and she stood there solemnly.

Then the boy recited,

What is bought with magic is stolen
What is learned by magic is falsehood
What is gained through magic is damnation
What is lost through magic is everything.

Maeve kept her eyes on the ground as the lesson sunk in. Her life had been a living torment. Was it because she was magical, like this boy said? Ever since she had left her mother’s glade she had felt like her parentage was a curse. She hadn’t ever felt at home with her mother, either, when she looked back on her time there.

After a moment of tense silence Maeve forced herself to ask, “So what do I do?” She was determined to do her job here after all her hard effort. She would go to the ruins and find what she could and leave, if they were going to be like that. It wouldn’t stop her from taking their stuff, though.

“If you go to the Judges they can permit you to perform small magic tricks. Otherwise you are not allowed to practice magic. You seem nice enough, so you can probably get permission.”

Nice? Her brow twitched. She suddenly had the feeling that, if she had to be nice to get a permit, that she should avoid the judges like the plague.

“Thank you,” she whispered. When she looked back up, the boy was smiling at her. “I just have one question.” He nodded in acknowledgement. “Why did you help me after you learned I was magical?”

“Well, you didn’t look dangerous or scary, so you can’t be too bad.”

“We’ve been taught to help our fellows out, whether they be human or not.” The mother said, sounding a little arrogant again. That tone was starting to grate on Maeve’s nerves.

She gritted her teeth in a smile, and forced herself to think that these people had no idea. “Well, then, thank you for the advice. I really must be on my way.”

They wished her luck and watched her leave. Maeve stomped down the street, angry, and ignored the townsfolk that stared. Most of them stopped talking when they saw her and turned away, or hurried into their homes. She felt like yelling at them. In what way did they think they were better than her? Because they were hairy and tended to stink? Because their language was simple compared to elves’ and fairies’? Because they lived in little huts and hoed the land all day, while she lived in lavish houses surrounded by power objects?

And still, that little niggling doubt the boy and his god-awful mother had implanted in her brain smiled grimly in the background.

[Chezak D'Maroe]

Chezak was headed back to Marn. He had spent much of the last month living in the forest outside of Shim, building a tiny, single room cottage with very little comforts. He had no problem sleeping on the newly packed dirt floor, having spent many nights sleeping in the dirt as he had traveled from Tian Xia to this forsaken place.

The biggest problem was that he couldn't go back. Rare were the times that he allowed himself to think of such things. Even now, he pushed it to the back of his mind, instead thinking of the task at hand.

Cheese, maybe a bit of milk, some onions to round out the herbs, roots and wild vegetables I've got stored. Another pair of clothes...

Chezak suddenly became aware of steps coming up the road behind him. Loud, angry stomps came up the road, and Chezak stepped aside and waited. It gave him time to take in the beautiful creature coming up the road towards him. The word creature came into his mind, because though she looked human enough, there was something about the way she carried herself that reminded him of ... he wasn't sure, but it reminded him of the forest for some reason.

Thoughts of lust came to his mind as he gazed upon her, but he roughly shoved them away. It had been many years since he had known a woman ... in that way.

He waited at the side of the road for her to get closer, letting no emotion show on his face.

[Maeve]

Suddenly Maeve became aware of someone off to the side of the road standing and staring at her. She looked back at him as boldly as he was looking at her. The pointed ears, the facial structure, and the bow on his shoulder all gave him away as an elf. That was a relief; she wasn't sure if she could handle a human staring at her like that right now. She would probably have punched his face in. As it was, the elf was not moving and she was getting closer. Within a few moments he was within what she thought of now as the danger zone, within sword reach. She noticed the blade hanging on his left hip, and thought to herself, A fellow warrior.

Unwilling to walk past him and expose her back, she stopped in the middle of the road where she had walked to and watched for what he would do. He looked a little filthy, like he had been living in something worse than these small farm houses. She swore inwardly that if he asked for money she would chop his head off.

He looked rather stoic, however, and she wondered if her power objects were working. The cloak was hot, but worth it amongst these weak-minded humans. However, Maeve hadn't noticed the brief look that had crossed his face when he first spotted her, the one she would have recognized very well. She would have appreciated how he kept it under control.

Curiosity overcame her and she had to ask, "Do you have business with me, elf? If not, be on your way." She doubted he would mug her in the middle of Shim, but it was possible. She reached behind her, up under her cloak, and grasped her backpack, ready to shrug it off any time. Her swords were still in it from when the townspeople had disrobed her; unwilling to scare them, she had kept them inside. Now she might regret that.

[Chezak D'Maroe]

Chezak nearly smiled, the only indication of it a slight up-curving of the corners of his mouth. He was quick to reassure her he wouldn't harm her, putting both his hands out from his sides and palm open towards her.

"The only business I have with you is that of the common traveler. I heard you coming behind me, and as it seemed you were marching as if you were going somewhere, I thought I might join you for the walk," he said smoothly. He pointed up the road leading to Marn, tearing his gaze from her through force of will and glancing in the same direction. "I am headed to Marn, and as these parts can be dangerous, I thought a traveling companion would be a wise idea."

He kept his gaze up the road, confused by the rush of emotions simply looking at this woman caused within him. She was beautiful, no doubt about that, but he had seen, and indeed, bedded, women who were more beautiful than she. But there was something about this woman that set his blood on fire, and his elven heritage and growth was the only thing keeping him from simply staring raptly at her.

A smile graced his lips as he concentrated on keeping his head. Not looking at her made it easier, but he knew that he'd have to look at her eventually. With the concentration came the realization that he could sense magic emanating from her, but unfortunately the talent didn't translate into knowing what the magic was. He could only assume that it had something to do with the instant attraction he had felt towards her.

With this realization came the ability to control his lusts. He turned back to look at the woman and smiled, still keeping his hands out to the side. "My name is Chezak."

[Maeve]

Maeve watched him warily as he spoke. He seemed honest enough, though that wasn't enough reason to trust him. She relaxed a little bit when he gestured in a universal show of peace and submission, palms out. He looked toward Marn, but as if he was forcing his body to move. She smiled to herself when he continued to stare toward the forest. It was always exciting to meet someone susceptible to her charm; it happened often but she never got tired of it. This man could be teased, which she loved to do. When he looked back at her, seemingly regaining control of himself, she reached up with her right hand and brushed the hair aside from her face. The gold charm bracelet on her wrist jingled as she did so. Runes of ancient style hung in delicate chains around the metal band. Someone who had a sense for such things would be able to tell that it held strong magic that was being used constantly as she wore it.

Reaching up also pushed back her cloak, revealing more of the tight leather armor she wore. She smiled sweetly at him and tilted her head. "A pleasure to meet you Chezak. My name is Maeve." She let this sink in before she asked innocently, "You'd protect me from the danger, wouldn't you?" She stroked a hand down her long hair until it rested on her shoulder. Then her tongue darted out to lick her lips as if her lips were dry, which they were, but it was a little too slow and sensual to be incidental.

[Chezak D'Maroe]

Again the feelings hit him, causing his cheeks to flush, his heart to race, and his pupils to dilate. She was toying with him. He could tell by the way she moved, the look of satisfaction on her face, even in the innocence of the request for protection. His senses screamed for him to turn away and continue his walk to Marn without her.

But even with all the warnings, something behind the magic hinted at something dangerous and beautiful, something strange hidden by magic and kept that way through this creatures force of will. Her eyes were the outward appearance of it, but his perceptive elven nature told him there was more.

More to this woman with the magical bracelet on her wrist, so strongly radiating it's presence to his sensitivities that he nearly missed the fact that the cloak also had some magical properties.

Chezak stared at her face, bringing his body slowly back under control, until her beauty no longer affected him except for in the natural way a woman affects a man.

With bark of a laugh and a quick glance at the backpack she had resettled on her back, so recently ready to be dropped by the woman, Chezak broke the tension of his long moment of staring.

"I believe I'd need to protect you as much as you'd need to protect me, Maeve," he said, forcing another laugh. With a wink, he indicated for her to walk beside him as he took the first steps along the road. "Marn is a long walk, if we want to be there before it's fully dark, we should probably go."

[Maeve]

When the elf's face reddened she smiled at him in a predatory way. The quiet chatter of the village, the shouts of children, and the wind blowing were the only distractions as they stared at one another. Then suddenly the flush faded; he had somehow regained control. Her face fell and her eyes got cold when she noticed this. A person with will and self-control: the bane of succubi. Still, she was wearing her bracelet and cloak. He probably would be unable to resist her when she was devoid of them. That thought allowed her to laugh mildly at his joke and give up on her pursuit for now. She then fell into step with him as if it was the most natural thing in the world, like she just happened to be going in that direction with him beside her.

As she walked, Maeve suddenly realized she was still extremely exhausted. The food and sleep had helped, but she was still weak. Inside her head she panicked. She could not appear weak. She held her head up high and kept his pace even as her body protested. The anger she felt before had clouded her perception and made her forget about her exhaustion, but now that it was gone she was vividly aware of how frail she was right now. Every step was like lifting a ton as her muscles screamed in pain. Going into the forest, a prime place to get ambushed, in this condition was reckless and foolhardy, but she wouldn't back down. If this stranger saw a weakness, he might pounce; then, bandits would be the least of her troubles. It was even possible that he was leading her into the woods on purpose, to...

Nothing abnormal showed in the way she moved or held herself, though she seemed a little tense. In order to distract herself, and him, she asked, "So Chezak, why do you say 'these parts'--as you put it--are dangerous?"

[Chezak D'Maroe]

She fell in next to him, as if they had been companions of old. Chezak kept his eyes ahead, watching the area ahead for danger. He noticed out of the corner of his eye that she seemed to flag a bit at the pace he was setting, but still gamely kept up with him. He slowed imperceptibly, enough to ease the pace a bit, but perhaps not enough for her to notice, taking the opportunity of her speaking to him to help hide the fact.

"There are quite a few bands of men around the area who, well, let's say do not follow the letter of the law. I've been attacked twice, and have only lived because they did not think that I could kill half of them with my bow before they got within sword distance," he said, reaching back and tapping the bow stave slung over his shoulder. His voice held no trace of pride, for he was simply stating facts.

They were nearing the forest, and Chez reached over his shoulder to pull the bow stave, pausing only briefly to string it. He checked the falchion on his hip to make sure it was clear of obstructions and loose in it's scabbard, the pulled an arrow, walking with bow in one hand and arrow in the other.

He glanced over at Maeve and smiled, keeping a tight rein on his feelings. "It pays to be prepared in the forest," he said, pointing with his arrow at her backpack. "You may want to take whatever weapon you were going for when you first saw me out of there."

[Maeve]

Maeve's face darkened when she heard about the bands of men. She turned her face away to hide this fact and ended up looking at the last few houses on the edge of Shim.

After she reined in her emotion she looked back at Chezak and watched him string his bow. It seemed he was even more used to the same life as she led than she had previously thought. Following his advice, though she didn't need it, she slung her backpack off her back and dropped it softly on the ground with a thunk. She opened it and brought out both short swords, which barely fit inside the brown leather bag. She strung the sword belt around her hips. It was made of leather and decorated with gold embellishments in a fancy Tian Xian fashion. Out of reflex she checked that her weapons were both free in their scabbards before she looked at him again.

He looked a lot more ready to fight than she did, with her cloak still hiding much of her person. She was ready to unfasten it and let it fall at a moment’s notice, however. After she dropped her backpack then there’d be no stopping her from unleashing her fury on the men who had caused her suffering. The pain was still fresh even though it was something that had happened years ago, and she knew she would never lose the satisfaction she got from spilling the blood of those beasts.

She just hoped Chezak wouldn’t get in her way. Though, she was glad to have a companion to help her. It was never pleasant when her desperation resulted in…

Her gaze fell from his form and she began to walk toward the forest again, her former glance silently inviting him along. As she walked she assumed he was beside her without looking, and said, “Where are you from, Chezak? You don’t speak about this place as if it is your home.”

[Chezak D'Maroe]

Chezak waited for Maeve to fall in beside him again, gazing at the gold Tian Xian workings on her leather belt. He nodded when she began to walk again, mostly to himself, and began walking at a more leisurely pace than he had first set.

The pace helped to settle him into a more casual frame of mind, though the first question out of her mouth made him stiffen for a moment. Of course, she couldn't know it was a sore spot, so he again relaxed and glanced over at her before speaking. Again, struck by her beauty, he didn't speak for a moment, though this time his attraction to her wasn't from anything magical, but was purely physical.

"I am not from around here, but I don't currently claim any place as 'where I am from'. I used to reside in the elven city of Guang Wan in eastern Tian Xia. It's one of the few cities east of Thar Shaddin that are almost entirely occupied by elves." Chezak glanced over at Maeve again, before putting his eyes forth to the road and watching for trouble.

"I no longer ... consider myself from there." Then, in barely a whisper, "They don't consider me from there either."

He kept walking at the leisurely pace he had set, lost for a moment in personal thoughts. His eyes continued to scan the roadway and approaching forest even before he brought himself out of his reverie to ask a question of Maeve.

"And yourself, Maeve. Where are you from?"

[Maeve]

Maeve watched him as her question awkwardly hung in the air between them. His gait got noticeably tighter for a moment. She looked away when he looked at her, watching the trees and the road ahead as he openly stared at her from the corner of her eye. She resisted a small smile as he finally answered.

She nodded at the name “Guang Wan” as one she recognized. She had never been there, but it had a reputation. The elves from there had a certain attitude she could recognize from her time in Tian Xia, as she had dealt with a rare few of them. Chezak did not present the normal picture. His next words gave her a probable reason for why.

Was that pain in his quietly-spoken words?

She barely detected emotion from him before he closed it off. He gazed around, hiding his pain behind glassy eyes, lost in thought. “I’m sorry I asked,” she said, at the same moment he asked her, ‘And yourself, Maeve. Where are you from?’

She laughed at the collision of words and shot him a brilliant smile. “Me? Eyropa. I haven’t lived there for a very long while, myself. So I suppose I don’t consider myself to be from there anymore, either.”

She continued to smile as she watched him, glancing every once in awhile to the forest and path. They were now under the shade of the trees, and the whispers of the wind and Life made a surge of happiness go through Maeve. She smiled quite happily as she relinquished her gaze from his to look up at the towering branches. The trees were healthy and talkative. The sense she got from this place reminded her a lot of her birthplace, of an open community of happy trees and animals. She hadn’t felt something so similar in all of her travels. That pointed to one thing: fae. And perhaps a lot of them.

She slowed down her walk and got a puzzled expression on her face as she continued to take the feelings in. The trees were chattering about something quite excitedly. There were the various normal things, like last week’s rain and the squirrels quarrelling up and down the trees—which was a little annoying—but there was something else, too. They were talking about Chezak and Maeve entering their domain, and how they liked the both of them—Maeve’s face twitched into a fleeting smile at that—but there were others here…that they didn’t like.

Maeve listened intently to that particular conversation, trying to figure out where the group of humans were so that Chezak and her could be prepared. At the thought of her companion, her attention unravelled and she realized she was standing stock still in the middle of the road. She blinked and looked at Chezak, and a frown immediately darkened her face. “They’re here,” was all she said, her voice grating angrily. She felt that blind, hot rage begin to bloom in her chest again; the hate.

Without explanation she dashed into the forest, shouting, “Wait here!” She didn’t want him to see her talking to a tree, so she picked one fairly close to the road but out of eyesight—at least to a person on foot. The tree could see the road clearly enough. She put her hand on the bark and introduced herself. The tree was a little wary as it greeted her back. She asked her question wordlessly as she closed her eyes. Once the tree discerned her intent, it eagerly told her all the gossip.

They were a group of men from a city gang by the way they had talked to each other—not that the tree understood what that meant, but it was probably cool—and they were lazing about in an area they had cleared. A screen of brush was hiding them from the road. One of them kept a lookout while the others played games and talked quietly as they waited. One hoped for a farmer with moonshine to come through, while another wanted the whole family to come through—and hopefully a pretty daughter among them.

Maeve recoiled as if zapped. She tried her best to thank the tree for its time, but the hate was clouding her speech. She walked back to the road calmly, trying to suppress her emotion, but her dangerous expression betrayed how she felt. When she found Chezak, she looked him straight in the eye and said, “Maybe you should wait here. They’re less than a mile up the road, hiding behind some bushes.”

[Chezak D'Maroe]

Chezak smiled at her laugh, though the smile only touched his lips. Her sudden mood shift, however, did bring the elf back into a normal semblance of his usual mood, especially when the smile and laughter lit up her eyes.

Again, he was struck at how beautiful she was, and wondered why she needed to use magic to infatuate those around her. He supposed there were reason for it, musing upon what those reason could be as she continued to talk.

Lost in his musings, it took him a moment to realize that Maeve was no longer talking, and, in fact, was standing stock still in the middle of the roadway, head cocked as if listening to something. Chezak cursed himself silently for several types of fools, cocking his own head and listening to the sounds of the forest.

Everything sounded normal to his elven ears, and he wondered what powers this woman had that allowed her to hear something that he could not. He gazed at her, waiting, and when she came out of whatever reverie she was in, he had an arrow fitted in his bow and ready to fire, though he hadn't drawn the string yet. He wouldn't put tension on it until it was needed.

Maeve's face underwent a sudden change, from intent to angry, her brow furrowing and her face darkening. With nothing more than a "They're here" and a shouted "Wait here!", Maeve dashed off into the forest. Chezak did as he was told, though he was uncomfortable not knowing what was going on. He turned in place, keeping his eyes on all quarters as he awaited her return.

In minutes, she was back. Some form of transformation had occurred to the woman, and though her face was angry and her eyes glared with naked hatred, Chezak was taken aback at how stunningly beautiful she looked. His second thought was that he hoped he was never the object of such abject hatred.

When she spoke, Chezak shook his head immediately, even before she began explaining where a group of men were. He frowned, wondering how she could be so certain, but didn't ask. Ever the practical one, Chezak fired rapid questions at her, looking for more information.

"How many are there? What kind of weapons do they have? If there are too many, or if they know how to use their weapons well and can fight well together, the two of us won't be able to take them."

He paused, looking at Maeve intently for a moment. "There are ways around those men. We can inform the authorities when we get to Marn, and they can come out here in force and gather them up, bring them to jail. No sense the two of us risking ourselves when that's what the guard is for."

Chezak waited for a response, pulling his eyes away from Maeve and looking up the road. He knew he wasn't going to win this argument, and was preparing himself for the fight ahead. She would go on without him, and he couldn't let her do that.

[Maeve]

Trees didn't know how to count, but the number of them didn't matter, anyway. One way or another, she would kill them all.

"You can go running to the guard, elfboy," she said, sounding annoyed. Maeve turned from him and began to walk away. "I can take them alone. ...And besides, I have the advantage of surprise." She didn't care if he followed or not, as long as he kept out of her way. The guard she scoffed in her thoughts. Bunch of blathering, lazy fools those guys are. No matter the city, it doesn't change. They just get fat off the riches and when you run to them for help they lie through their teeth, saying, 'oh yeah sure, we'll take care of that for you, miss' but do nothing.

Her internal monologue stopped when she was a little further down the road. Here, she reached up and undid the clasp holding her cloak in place. It slithered slowly off her and onto the ground. She shrugged off her backpack and brought it around to carry it with her hand, ignoring when it held onto and tugged at her long hair. She grabbed her cloak with her other hand and walked into the forest. Putting her things down behind a tree—just so no one walking by would find it—Maeve then readied herself for battle.

Grasping both handles of her short swords, she drew them simultaneously so that they formed an X as they came out. The blades just barely slid across each other, eliciting a hissing, vibrating sound. Once the tips were almost out she flicked them forcefully outwards in an arc around her, breaking the X. From there Maeve did a complex, graceful twirling with her arms and blades, the metal flashing from the dappled sunlight through the branches. As she did so her right leg took a step back, positioning her into a stance. The twirling stopped; her right blade was poised horizontally above her head pointing forward while her left was out perpendicular to her body pointing right. Her back was arched in this position with her right foot at a 45-degree angle and her left perfectly straight, in the way of a martial artist.

The whooshing air around her stilled, and her hair settled back into place on her shoulders and back. Her gaze was focused forward to where she knew they would be. She was coming and there was no stopping her. She paid Chezak no mind as she relaxed out of her stance and began to creep forward. It had taken a lot of practice to do that little show with her swords without cutting herself, and the thousands of times she had done it showed in the deadly grace of her body.

Without her cloak, and with her hate driving her, her powers were unleashed. Lust and feral violence entwined and coiled around her like a shroud. It was a frightening, mesmerizing mix.