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Prince and the Thief (SilentMadness and EmElisa)

On more than one occasion the curious thief had wanted to get up and peek over Randar's shoulder at what he was doing. This seemed to solidify that the woman was indeed quite catlike. She had managed to limit herself to only one intrusion when he was at the beginning stages of his studies. There had been nothing of interest at that point, so the woman had gone back to her own devices. She wandered here and there, looking at the Dragon's things while simultaneously debating where the best place to hide the Spider would be. Then, she would get bored and flop with a huff on the cleanest surface she could find, which more often than not ended up being the floor.


At some point, it had indeed started raining outside, which was quite curious to Ilyia. She was almost certain that the Dragon had some sort of weather predicting tool, but really he could have just know the climate of his own homeland rather well. The rain had been a smooth, lulling symphony to her, and she had just dozed off into a peaceful nap when she heard Randar shouting excitedly. She awoke with a start, lifting her head from the floor and looking over to see Randar standing there excitedly.


"Hm??"


She stood up and made her way over to him. She was surprised to find that three maps had somehow become one. Ilyia was curious as to how it happened, but before she could ask any questions, Randar was grabbing her up in a firm embrace.


"Oof!" She patted him a bit awkwardly on the back, her arms too pinned to do much else. "Easy... this discovery would be dampened if you broke my ribs in celebration."


She grinned at him as he released her from his hold. Peering down at the maps, she felt a strange tingle running through her skin, like the sensation of walking into the wisps in the forest. She shuddered, but ignored the feeling.


"This... this is it?" She glanced at him briefly. "You found it! How in the world did you manage that?"


By this time, even the Dragon had curiously hobbled over to see the map. He, too, was amazed by what he saw. He looked up at Randar after Ilyia had asked her question. He seemed just as interested as to what the answer would be.
 
He was in the heavens with this discovery. Not even he could believe what he had managed to do, and he looked at his own hands in disbelief, all while the two were awaiting for an answer. He slowly began figuring out just what exactly it was. "The parchments were imbued with a strange form of arcane, antique magic, perhaps used by the First. It might be just a rumour, but I've heard the First was also the first to make contact with the Elves, who seemed to have dominion over quite a bit of land at that point in time. So the map written in Elvish must've been made as a collaboration."


Picking up the old book, Randar flipped through a few pages and suddenly came across a paragraph. He read out loud for the two to hear. "The path to one's answers lies in determination. The road to the key is divided in three. I tried to understand what this meant, but there was no actual road to anywhere to be divided in three. At first I thought it was a sort of crossroads, but it was in fact the map that was divided in three layers which, arranged one over the other in a certain order caused them to merge back into one with the help of the magic and show the path to the Circle."


Smiling, Randar placed his book back in the bag and rolled up the parchment, placing it as well into the bag under the less than pleased gaze of the Dwarf who realized that he has probably missed the opportunity of something, well, great. Randar looked to Ilyia, a part of him wondering whether or not she has discarded the Spider, and another part of him trusting blindly that she had. "So." He said, rubbing his hands as if preparing for something. "When are we leaving?" "For the first time, the boy has the right idea!" The Dragon said with slight excitement at the prospect of the two finally leaving him be. They've already been in his home for too long.


Randar's excitement subsided, slowly, and was replaced by more curiosity as to how exactly the rest of the journey is going to be. He didn't know what to expect, but at least he was joyful that they had the right way figured out. However, it was an odd mystery to him as well about how exactly he found the answer. Could it have been only coincidence or there was something that helped him? Determination, the thought rang in his mind and he looked at Ilyia, the ever so present companion, the woman who has been a constant in his life for a good few months now.
 
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Ilyia listened with genuine interest to Randar's explanation. She dealt with magical objects on a rather frequent basis, but she didn't claim to understand anything about them. The history, the scholarly aspect of magic, was clearly Randar's suit. As embarrassing as it was for her to think about, Randar was much smarter than she could ever hope to be. His education within Etersia had proven to be something amazing. The thief had never read a book from cover to cover. A pang of jealousy hit her and threatened to cloud this moment. No, she thought to herself. I'm proud of him. It managed to dispel the jealousy that didn't even seem like it belonged to her in the first place.


"Are ya hard of hearin' lass?" The Dragon was scowling at Ilyia.


"Hm?" The thief blinked a few times, clearly having been lost in thought.


"The lad asked when you'll be leavin'. I say the sooner the bloody better!"


"Oh, right." Ilyia shook her head. "Let's rest a bit, wait for the rain to roll through, and then we'll go." The Dragon was about to object when Ilyia suddenly looked at him. "I have... something else to add to your collection."


That seemed to shut the man right up. He looked quite interested in whatever it was Ilyia had to offer. She looked at Randar and gave him a wary smile. She led the Dragon off into another room, the down some stairs into the cold, dark cellar. A sense of dread began to creep its way up the thief's back when she did something as simple as think about getting rid of the Spider. Her hands were trembling, and her chest seemed to tighten up to the point it was almost painful.


This is a mistake. She thought, but she wasn't thinking it at all. How else will I take out the slavers? How else am I supposed to be strong enough? Ilyia reached into her pack. Her hand made contact with the smooth, cool surface of the Spider. Her chest loosened; her breathing became a little more normal. You made a promise. Ilyia closed her eyes. She knew this wasn't the right thing to do, but what else could she do? There was no other way. Or at least, that's what she was made to believe. Her hand moved to the side and grabbed the first thing it landed on.


"Here," she held a small, yellow fruit in her hand. Of course... of all the things she could grab.


The Dragon stared at it. "Are you bloody serious?" He looked up at her.


"It... is for endurance." She said suddenly. "You wouldn't want your fantasy to end before it even got started, would you? Eat this, and the succubus magic will last you well into the morning."


Some time later, Ilyia returned to Randar. She felt sick to her stomach, guilt gnawing away at her like a disease. But it was okay... she was doing the right thing. Offering him a smile, she gave a nod toward the window.


"Looks like the rain's about through," she told him. "We should be on our way. We've got an Ancient Forest to find."
 
He was curious as to what exactly Ilyia wanted to hand the dwarf, but he didn't bother to follow. If it was the Spider she was giving away, it would be great. He trusted her enough, and when she returned, he had thought, honestly, that she had gotten herself rid of that damned thing. He cheered up when Ilyia finally mentioned leaving, he was already itching for the journey, and this was easily readable in his voice. "Damn right we do! Thanks, Sir Dragon, for the help." He had said and wanted even to shake the dwarf's hand, but received a grumble instead. "Yeah yeah, don't mention it." The Dragon was still upset at losing some of his precious artifacts. But this didn't darken Randar's cheery demeanor, and soon, him and Ilyia were already gone, out on the road.


The days passed as they began treking across the land once more, heading back towards Nethander, occassionally halting in different locations, mostly on the side of the road or in different villages. Randar, being oblivious to the fact that Ilyia hadn't, in fact, dropped the Spider, was less worried now about her. The herbs that he had acquired for tea from the Hawndor apothecary had proved to be quite useful in combatting his nightmares, and some nights, he even dared to simply cuddle with Ilyia just as he did that one night in the town. The relationship between them seemed to evolve more, and more, and one would have said that they've been traveling together since forever.


It has been perhaps two weeks since, and they were now cutting deep through Nethander. Randar's beard was now even thicker, and while he still looked like himself, he was much different from the young prince that had left the Etersian kingdom so many months ago. He had even lost track of time since that had happened.


It took them another few full days to cross the second half of Nethander, and with every moment, their excitement grew. By the fourth day's end, when the sun began to settle, the two were reaching the Barrier, and invisible border between Nethander and the Ancient Forest. The road they were on took it straight into the Forest, but what was after the Barrier looked, well, completely different to what was of Nethander. Vegetation seemed to be more lush, and the the forest itself was quite a bit darker than its other half. The two eventually decided to make camp there for the night, Randar making himself useful right away by starting to chop wood for fire with his hatchet. Whilst he did so, he began feeling a slight... dread.


It was as if something told him things weren't quite alright, and his heart was just wrenching in his chest. He returned soon after with armfulls of wood and dropped them down, before beginning to arrange them for the fire. Lighting the fire wasn't quite as hard for him, as he had taken the initiative of learning perhaps the simplest of spells, which at first proved to be quite harmful, proof of it being his burnt fingertips. But by now, he had learned to control it well, and so, after having placed the wood, Randar simply made a gesture with his hand close to the small fireplace.


His fingertips were engulfed for a second in a flame that shot directly at the wood, which started burning right away, the fire expanding quickly as the two fed it with more wood. The next step they took was to set out a meal, and they had quite a delightful one to make, as they have encountered, earlier on, a stray rabbit, and Ilyia with her quick wits and reactions managed to catch the little rodent and made for quite a different meal considering that for the past weeks all they've had was dry meat and wine.
 
Travelling through the Nethander forest had been quite nostalgic. It seemed like forever ago she had stumbled across the prince, so foolishly sleeping out in the open with a fire burning beside him. He had certainly come a long way since then, and she was very proud of that. He had proven to be brave and capable, when for the longest time Ilyia thought him nothing more than a spoiled nitwit who was good for nothing but the coin is in his purse. She could still remember the look on his face when he'd ripped off her cover to see the lowly thief was a woman. Now, the thought was quite humorous to think back upon.


To make their travels worthwhile, Ilyia had continued to train Randar in things. He was adept enough at hunting and fire building-- especially with the aid of magic now-- that she didn't focus on that too much longer. Instead, she began teaching him things like the different plants and animals in the region, what to use, and what to stay away from. She taught him hand to hand combat because he was still uncomfortable with a blade. Their sessions usually ended with a certain sense of awkwardness when one of them ended up on top of the other in some sort of pinning move. Finally, in the place of a sword, she had mimed sword fighting with him through the use of any long, sturdy sticks they were about to find. It was a completely different style of fighting resembling more of a bow staff art, but it could be just as effective. The lessons showed just how versatile the thief truly was.


Her guilty conscience still weighed on her every day. It actually only seemed to get worse the further into the forest they got. While it should have been exhilarating and refreshing, the magical hum of these new lands was almost oppressing to the young woman; stifling in a way. She was careful not to let any of this be seen by her companion, however. She tried to keep to herself more and more when sleeping, because she almost always woke up to the sound of someone whispering her name.


Now, they had finished their meal and were staring into the fire that burned steadily. The sound of this morning's raindrops still falling from the leaves made a quiet soundtrack for thought. Ilyia wondered how close they were to the Circle, if it existed at all. The thief absentmindedly played with her long auburn hair that had grown out quite far down her back.


"We have to be getting close," the young woman said. She turned her honey eyes toward Randar. "I can feel the change in the air." I hate the change in the air. "This place feels... ancient." It is repulsive. "Do you think Elves are in the Circle?" She had gotten rather good at ignoring the voice for the most part. It was getting harder and harder to do, however.
 
He sat next to her and warmed himself at the fire. His thoughts were sprawled all about, and he felt something... strange, a very thin vibe coming directly from Ilyia that made him feel unsettled. With his magic affinity becoming more and more obvious, he began feeling more and more pertaining to that realm and so, it was hard for him not to acknowledge the thin waves that Ilyia radiated that just weren't right. He thought of asking her, once, if she truly dropped the spider, but he feared she might think he doesn't trust her, and so, he put it aside. He simply tried to wave it off, for now.


"Elves, humans, I honestly don't know. I do know that this side of the forest is, well... quite forbidden to manfolk. The Elves don't really like being disturbed, and that's what they wanted when they drove all other races out of their side of the forest, to keep it for themselves. Some might be in the Circle. Might." He said as he used a stick to move some of the cinders around, before placing one more log in the fire. "I've seen an Elf when I was a boy." Randar said, recalling a scene from his childhood. "I believe it was an envoy, who had come to my... father..." He hesitated for a second. "... for... I have no idea what for, actually, all I know is that Etersia never stopped their relations with the Elves."


"Hey." Randar said after a few moments, as he smiled to Ilyia. He moved himself closer to her and put an arm about her, kissing the temple of her head. "I never got around to thanking you for all you're doing. For being here with me. You don't really know how much this means to me, Ilyia. How much... you mean to me." He sighed contently, cuddling her into himself for some more time. Eventually, the two set down to sleep soon after, and the next morning smiled upon them in no time. Randar woke up first, and set the breakfast, and after he, and Ilyia, had eaten, they took to the road again.


The Ancient Forest seemed, well, very strange compared to Nethander. As they have walked for about an hour on the trail, the two found themselves treading through the grass eaten ruins of what once was a human settlement. Some of the structures, such as pillars and parts of walls were still, well, intact, preserved by time. Randar gawked in wonder as he walked alongside Ilyia, all while remembering the long history lessons which he used to love, taken from, of course, a personal teacher. "This was human land once." He noted as they slowly left the ruins behind. "There used to be a time when all races lived in peace here. Long ago. Now it's all but a distant memory."


They continued walking for most of the day, and by Randar's calculations, by nightfall they'd reach an Elven settlement. Elves weren't precisely fond of humans, but if travelers wanted to make a halt, they could. It was already evening when the two have finally reached the said settlement. It looked, well, nothing like a human village. It looked luxurious, whilst in complete harmony with the nature at the same time. Blue eyes watched them from all around, and Elves spoke in their native tongue as the two passed through and headed for the inn.


As they opened the door, Randar and Ilyia found an oddly pleasant room in which patrons were gathered at tables, most discussing over pints of... who knew what drinks their kind enjoyed. The travelers stood out like sore thumbs as they walked to a table in the corner, not wishing to attract more attention than they already have. Randar had an inkling of idea what the Elves spoke about, and most of it was speculation around them. "Don't look them in the eyes and don't say anything about them out loud." Randar whispered to Ilyia as he sat at the table, next to her. "They know our tongue. They just refuse to use it." He said, before an Elven serving girl approached, and looked at the two. "Shala'nar alra?" She asked, and Randar needed a moment to process and translate the words to himself.


"Mash' halora belor. He... a'kaleh alar' na'thos." Randar answered, trying not to stutter. The serving girl nodded, and left swiftly, as if not wishing to spend another moment with these two outsiders. "She just asked us what we want. Don't worry, their food is great." Randar said with a reassuring smile.
 
The gnawing feeling that Ilyia had been trying to suppress through casual conversation only ate away at her more when Randar placed his arm around her. She closed her eyes, trying to reveal the guilt she felt inside. He was thanking her... thanking her, and she had done a terrible, terrible thing. You've done nothing yet. She was certain that he would hate her when he came to learn the truth. That she was too weak to give up the Spider; that the sheer thought of it made her heart hurt so badly she felt she could barely breathe. She was weak, and she was a liar. Don't get too close. The thought of his reaction to her deception was painful, to say the least. She said nothing to him, only nodded and smiled and tried to revel in his warm affection for as long as she could. It won't last much longer.


Ilyia's sleep had been fitful that night. Dreams of the white-haired woman had been haunting her for the past three nights in a row. She was sitting in her cage, hands gripping the old, rusted bars. Her face was turned in Ilyia's direction, but she did not see her, as her eyes had been taken. Promise me.... She whispered pitifully. Each time, Ilyia answered with a firm nod. I promise.





The thief was more than grateful to get moving again the next day. She found it helped to occupy her thoughts enough that she didn't focus on the obvious quite so much. The surroundings were a lot for her to take in. It wasn't often that the thief was in a place she'd never been before. It was so... quiet. She wondered if this was what the Elves wished to achieve when they banished other races. She had never seen an Elf before, though she had heard they were the most stuck up of all the races. Ilyia had enough disdain for stuck up noble humans... she couldn't imagine how much worse the Elves were.


"This is strange... getting the history of a place from you for a change." She commented as they approached the building they would be staying in. "You would make a fine tutor someday."


Her teasing grin slowly fell when they entered the building. Randar's warning about the Elves reminded her of her own warning about the giants. She was able to follow his instructions easily enough, though when she heard their foreign tongue whispering as they passed, she felt a little uncomfortable. They know. They know. They know. That quiet, haunting little whisper told her over and over again. They didn't know. They couldn't know... could they? Ilyia cleared her throat and sat down at the table with Randar. It was hard for her not to stick out, not only as a human but a red-headed human who happened to be a woman who happened to carry a sword. It was a bit of a triple, no... quadruple threat. When the former prince ordered for them, Ilyia shot him a look.


"Since when do you speak their language?" She asked, sounded a bit harsher than she had intended her. She shook her head. "Nevermind, it doesn't matter. I'm sure their food is wonderful. Any food not partially cooked on a stick over a dying fire would be wonderful."


The thief was careful not to make eye contact with any of the Elves, though she did look at them out of her peripheral. Several of them were pointedly staring at the duo, and she caught a few young men snickering to each other and looking in her general direction. She scowled and opted to stare down at the table instead. I'm sure they bleed the same as every other man. The voice said. Stop. Ilyia thought back forcefully. Her head was beginning to hurt. It was a dull throbbing in her right temple that seemed like an annoying reminder of something Ilyia wasn't supposed to forget.


"A good meal and a good night's rest will do me good, I think." She said after noting the way Randar was looking at her.
 
What was happening to her? She nearly scared Randar with her tone, it was as if she was... accusing him of something. Was she suspecting something? He couldn't quite know, but he also couldn't fully blame her for being paranoid. The way the Elves acted made for quite a good basis for this type of fear. However, something was clouding his mind. Ilyia's gaze. It just wasn't right. Her eyes, the spark in them, would lose its shine every now and then, and would be replace by a veil, much like... like when the Spider took her over. Did she really lie to him when she told him she'd drop the artifact? Randar was quite sure that Ilyia, alone, wouldn't do such to him, but rather the Spider would twist her minds and turn her into... this. He wished to ask her, but this wasn't exactly the right place or right time for such. The serving girl had returned and placed in front of them two place with pieces of meat seasoned with herbs and salad on the sides, along with a jug of a sweet scented drink and two goblets. She then dissapeared, much like earlier, not wanting to stay around the two humans for too long.


"Thalassin wine." Randar said, recognizing the drink right away. It was one of the Elven prides, as they enjoyed luxury and fine drinks, as well as meals. The former prince picked up the jug and poured Ilyia and himself from the strange wine, before setting the vessel down and began cutting his piece of meat into smaller chunks. He began eating, his mind being plagued by the temptation to ask Ilyia about... whatever's happened. He didn't, however, and only found himself talking, in low tone, about other matters.


The two took a room there, that night. Randar nearly fell into an argument with the Elven innkeeper who seemed, for a moment, to not even want to receive his payment in gold coins. However, after managing to pay, he and Ilyia shared a room. The rooms at the Elven inn were also largely different from those that they were used to, with softer mattresses and a lot more luxury. Of course, it cost them a bit more, but after all, it was better than sleeping outside, where a thunderstorm seemed to have taken place. Randar's sleep was, even with the special tea, plagued with all sorts of nightmares and thoughts, most related to Ilyia. It seemed that these particular nightmares about her were able to make their way past the effect of the tea, due to the, well, importance that she had in his life.


With the next morning set in, the couple only took a quick breakfast before leaving. Randar felt at ease to be finally out in the wilds again, and, judging by the map, their travel would take perhaps only a little longer. Randar walked, now, with his map in hand, trying to make small talk with Ilyia and continuing to, well, teach her about different things they'd encounter. At one point, the two came across a broken statue of Eleseya, the goddess worshipped by Etersians, and so, Randar began explaining about how Elves set out to destroy anything pertaining to humans in that region, be it religious or just historical. A selfish, xenophobic race. He was trying to distract Ilyia from whatever thoughts plagued her. He was sad to see her so... unwell.


It was the afternoon when the former prince announced they were approaching. He felt it. It was a strong buzz of energy that was very similar to the one that the scrolls and the book emitted. He had noticed how Ilyia had been distraught eversince they have passed into the Ancient Forest, but he couldn't attribute it to something in particular, unless his suspicions were true. The path took them directly into an open circle with green grass, and a broken shrine in the middle. This must have been it, the buzzing was too strong, but why, then, was there nothing else but a broken shrine? He had expected to be... something. Something more. As the two took their steps closer to the shrine, Randar looked to Ilyia with a slightly apologetic gaze, slowly beginning to believe that they have gone so long for nothing.


The former prince took to examining the shrine, in silence, looking upon the pieces of stone with curiosity. He wondered if this was not some sort of puzzle, but as he looked upon them, a voice was heard coming from not so far. "Welcome." The voice, which sounded strangely odd, said, causing Randar to look in the direction and see a man dressed in a purely white robe with a hood over his head. "You have come seeking the Circle, I see." The man continued, nodding as he beckoned Randar towards him. "Come." The former prince, in change, prepared to tell the thief to follow, but just before she could take a step, the man in the white robe spoke towards her. "I'm afraid, my child, that I cannot let you pass. You do not seek the answers we give, and we do not have the answers you seek. You carry a poisoned burden with you."


Poisoned? Randar wondered what the man meant, as he seemed to be speaking in riddles, but the realization struck him. He now had to choose, it seemed, as there was no way that Ilyia could come with him. In that instant, he felt... he felt hollow. Parting ways with Ilyia, even for a while, sounded like something he has been fearing for so long. A fear that was coming true. Much as if he was hypnotized, his steps took him immediately towards her, and he stopped in front of her, looking his companion in the eyes. He was afraid. How could he leave her? Why would he? He'd be able to get over his nightmares, more than surely, wouldn't he? But what about her? What about his vows, what about his feelings towards her? "Ilyia... I..." He tried to say, but his words knotted in his throat along with tears that threatened to leave his eye. "I... don't want to leave you..."
 
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Ilyia had been through a lot in her life. She had been a lot of places and seen a lot of different people. She could safely say by the end of their stay in this luxurious tavern that Elves were not among her favorite people. She felt that their riches and finery were some means of overcompensating for the fact that their personalities were as dry as sand. Of course, she didn't voice any of these opinions... at least not until she and Randar were safely tucked away in their room. Then she seemed to let loose all of the thoughts and opinions she had been holding in whilst downstairs. They weren't laced with an overt amount of negativity, just her usual sauciness, but there were instances in which she sounded a little sharper than she should have.


The thief seemed to be growing worse for wear the more they traveled. She tired easier than she should have, and her mood was intermittently sour. She would snip one moment and then shake her head, apologizing the next. Sometimes, it was like she wasn't even snipping at Randar but just... the air in general. It was strange and hard to identify, but the former prince had done a fine job at occupying both of their minds with random facts and details about certain aspects of their surroundings. Her...condition...seemed manageable, up until they came to that broken shrine in the middle of the circle.


Stop! No more.





She stopped near the perimeter of the circle, as if some invisible hand was keeping her frozen in place. She wanted desperately to venture further in and observe things with him, but it was like her body was forbidding her from doing so. Ilyia felt her muscles stiffen and her joints lock. For a while, she just stared blankly at Randar, observing him from afar. When the voice sounded, however, she felt a strange mixture of relief and anguish. At first, her body was flooded with relaxation, and she was able to move the way she was supposed to. But after that initial wave passed, she was gripped again by the forceful voice that told her to stop. This time, Ilyia ignored it. I can do this... she thought. She took a few steps into the clearing, ready and willing to follow after Randar, when the hooded figure told her to stop. The simple act of him holding his hand out toward her caused her to freeze in her tracks. He wasn't controlling her, but rebelling the magic that did control her. She parted her lips to speak, but no words would come out. She couldn't think of a single thing to say to change the hooded figure's mind.


The thief inhaled sharply, almost like a gasp, when Randar came to a stop in front of her. Guilt flooded her whole being. It was so heavy she felt her knees grow weak. Her lids fluttered as her own eyes threatened to release tears as well. He knew... he had to have known. Yet he still wanted to stay with her? What have I done? She thought. A frown formed on her beautiful face, and she felt like her heart might break into a million pieces.


"I'm sorry," she choked out the words. "I.... I wanted to get r-rid of it, but I..." The tears were no longer being held back. They fell shamefully down her face. She hung her head, unable to even look at him now. "I c-couldn't do it. I failed. Myself... and you. You believed in me and I failed you!"


Her lips were trembling when she finally managed to look up at him. She knew what he needed to do, and she knew what she needed to do to enable him to do that. She took a step toward him, and that single step pained her so greatly she felt like her heart was giving up on her. Sniffling, she lifted a hand to the side of his face and offered him a sad smile.


"You're going to go," she told him with as much sternness she could muster. Ordering him around had always worked before, after all. "Because it's what you need to do. And I'll..." she took a painful breath. "I'll be right here waiting for you. No matter how long it takes. I'll be right here." Because I love you. She thought, but couldn't quite make herself brave enough to tell him.


Instead, she used the rest of her willpower to break the invisible hold that was on her and practically throw herself into his arms. Her lips found his for the first time, and claimed them in a passionate, love-filled kiss.
 
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He had to stay strong, but alas, her breaking down like that caused his own tears to start spilling. He took her hands in his and tried to calm her down, to tell her that he wasn't dissapointed. She hadn't failed him. It wasn't her fault, he knew that all too well. When she pressed her hand to his cheek, he placed his own hand over her hand and looked her in the eyes. She was beautiful, even when she was sad. But he didn't want to see her so sad. She ordered him to go, and promised that she'll be there. He nodded, and was about to say something when he found himself locked in a warm embrace and when, for the first time, he felt her lips on his. It made him melt.


In that moment, nothing mattered anymore, and he let himself kissed, and kissed her back with the same passion, trying to convey all of his feelings that he had gathered for her. All the love, and all the moments when he thought how he'd give anything for her. He had given something for her, his own eye. Her lips felt so soft, and her kiss was, indeed, something that was like nothing else in the world. It was... the kiss of a true love, his mind told him, and he couldn't agree more. Everything else had perished in the passion and the warmth of that embrace and that sweet moment in which their tears fell together, much like their bodies embraced and connected one last time.


He would never have broken this kiss, but alas, it had to be broken at a point or another. He let his forehead rest on hers and he panted heavily, finding himself breathless after such a moment. His hands caught her face once more and his thumbs worked on wiping away her tears. "You haven't failed me, Ilyia." He whispered and smiled weakly. "You haven't failed either of us. I'll come back to you, I swear on my heartbeat. I'll come back and we'll go there together. We'll stay together until the end of time." He said with an encouraging voice before stealing another soft kiss from her and puling back, his hand finding it hard to release hers until something... like a strange energy, broke them apart. The cloaked figure walked away, and Randar followed, but his head stayed turned as he watched Ilyia slowly become a person in the distance. "I promise I'll come back..." He vowed to himself and turned around, following the cloak figure who took him away.
 
Ilyia was overwhelmed with the emotions that came flooding in during their kiss. She had never known such feelings. It was enough to bring her to her knees, and she would have if Randar's arms had not been securely wrapped around him. She loved him, she realized not for the first time. She loved him so much it hurt. The thief had never felt like this before, not even with the one and only man she had loved before. She held onto him tightly, trying to commit his taste, his smell, his touch; everything to memory. It seemed like an eternity yet not long enough when they finally pulled their lips apart. Her own lips were still trembled, and her heart was beating wildly. She was as equally breathless as he was. Her honey eyes stared up into his, speaking where her words could not.


His promise made her heart swell. She knew that he would keep that promise. She had to believe that he would. Ilyia struggled to let him go. It was one of the hardest things she'd ever had to do in her life. To stand there and watch him walk away from her was torture. It took everything in her power not to call out his name and beg him to stay. She actually had to bite her lip to keep from making a single sound. She just watched, tearfully, as he disappeared. Then, all of her strength left her and she collapsed onto the ground to cry like she had never cried before.


-------


Ilyia opened her eyes to almost complete darkness. The low light was nothing new, however, and she realized she could see in it just as well as if it were daylight. She moved along the familiar path of bodies strewn about the floor, careful not to trip on any chains or carcasses. She could hear flies buzzing somewhere nearby. Someone new must have died. The young girl felt her way through the mess until she came in contact with a wall. It was cold and wet; sticky in some areas with substances she dare not think about. She moved to the right down the length of the wall until the solid surface was replaced with cold iron bars. A pair of hands was outstretched, already waiting for her. They were cold and shaking when she took hold of them.


"I'm here," she whispered. "Does it hurt badly today?"


"The pain lessens." The voice said, but Ilyia knew it was a lie.


"It won't be long, now." Ilyia repeated the same words she said everyday. "You'll be the first one I come for."


And, just like everyday, the voice replied: "No... first, become strong. Return. Vengeance... freedom." Pause. "Promise?"


"I promise."





The Spider moved for the first time in 500 years. It crawled out of the satchel, shrinking smaller and smaller the closer it got to Ilyia. It crawled upon her chest, and buried itself in her heart.


------


The thief was unsure how much time had passed. She had waited for Randar, just as she said she would. Everyday had been a struggle. When the grief became too much, she had taken to wandering the woods but never straying far in case he were to come back. She wandered, hunted, returned, ate, and slept. The process repeated until... one day, it didn't. Ilyia found herself walking through the woods, heading west. She wasn't quite sure why. She was tired and hungry, and she didn't really feel like travelling at all. It won't be long now. A voice would tell her every time she wanted to rest. You promised... remember?





"I remember." Ilyia said aloud. She had taken to talking to herself lately, though she wasn't quite sure why.


Her hand itched. Dry blood was caked on her fingers and palm, though to her knowledge she didn't have a single cut on her. It was the strangest thing really. What was even stranger were the two bandits left laying in the woods. One had, had his throat slit, and the other's head had been bashed in with a tree branch. Though, of course, Ilyia was blissfully unaware of all that.
 
"Where are we going?" Randar asked the cloaked figure who took him away, trying to find something that could keep him from just breaking apart from the man and running back to Ilyia. It was painful, horribly painful, to know that he left the woman he loved so much there, alone, to grieve his departure. Who exactly knew how long it would take until he would be out of this... Circle? It could be months, it could be years. "How long will this whole thing take?" He asked again, impatient, seeing as the old man in white didn't bother to answer to his first inquiry. "Until you are ready, of course." The man told him, and caused Randar to sigh in annoyance. Perhaps coming here was never the good idea. Ilyia needed him, she still had the Spider and who knew what she would do if he wasn't there? "Have faith in your beloved." The old man said, as if knowing what Randar was thinking. "She can get through by herself."


Randar was put at ease in the slightest. After all, this... figure... had to know something, right? He simply let his thoughts drift back to the moment, the surprising, gods-given moment when he felt Ilyia's lips on his. He could still feel his own tingle. His face turned red as he thought about it more and more. He longed for another, already, and this gave him motivation. The sooner he will complete his training, the sooner he will be able to return to her and claim her lips once more. His dreams seemed to have come true. The prospect of the rest of his life spent with Ilyia sounded exciting. Caught with his thoughts, he didn't even realize when the man took him through the entrance in a damp, dark cave. The man held a hand out and an orb of light formed quickly in his palm, light which dispeled the darkness around them and lit up the path through the cave.


He had lost the sense of time since he has been in the cave, it seemed as if they've been descending constantly for hours on end, and Randar was slowly losing his patience. Where exactly was he being taken? He still felt the strong arcane vibrations all around him, but was that all? He pestered the figure with more questions which seemed to fall on deaf ears, as the man seemed to either not listen, or be patient enough not to answer. Suddenly, the two came to a stop before what looked like a dead end. "Is this it?" Randar asked, now feeling more annoyed by the silence of the figure. However, he could feel something that came from somewhere behind the stone wall, and he watched as the cloaked man rose his free hand, and muttered something beneath his breath. In a moment, the stone broke apart and light protruded from the other side. It wasn't long until he stood before a full opening through which came out a blinding light. The figure spoke to him. "If you are ready, step into the light."


Was he? He thought, once more, about Ilyia. There still was time for him to return, and to remain next to her. "You're going to go" Her words, and her gaze flashed through his mind, and he shook his head. He was doing this for her. He had to proceed. With a nod, he took a step into the light, a light which blinded him, but brought peace to him as well. It was... benevolent, almost like a blessing. He was ready.
 
The forest came and went. The memory of it seemed little more than a blur. How did I travel so much distance so quickly? Ilyia thought. In reality, it hadn't been quickly at all. It had been weeks, maybe even months, since the Spider had buried itself into her chest. Sometimes, when she looked down at the black veins webbing out from the entry point, Ilyia almost remembered that something was wrong. She would stare at it for minutes on end and think, well... that doesn't seem normal. But every time, she would remember that she was supposed to keep moving. She had a job to do, after all.


More lives had been claimed under the Spider's influence. The blood had fueled it and allowed it to keep a hold on the thief. Even though only a few lives had been taken, it seemed more than enough to sustain the item for now. Now that it was inside of Ilyia, it was using her own life force more than anything else to keep it going. It moved her west, through the forest, and through the planes with the red colored mountains in the distance. The dry grass blew in a dry wind. It was an open space, which Ilyia usually didn't traverse through so boldly. She was usually much more careful than this. Anyone could have spotted her, and somewhere along the lines they did. Though, Ilyia would not learn of this until quite some time later.


"There was something I was supposed to do," she told herself one night as she stared at the black, looming shapes of the mountains in the distance. "Or something I wasn't supposed to do."


Wasn't she supposed to stay still? And wait? She could have sworn that she was supposed to wait, but instead she had rushed off into the wilderness on her own. She played with her long hair, running her fingers through the wavy auburn tresses and staring off into the distance.


I'm right where I need to be.





"I'm right where I need to be," she said to herself with a smile.


The sound of hooves in the distance caused her to snap her head to attention. She turned quickly to see a shape approaching her. A single horse with a single rider. She squinted to try and see the shape better, much to no avail. Somewhere deep, deep in her subconscious, she was hoping for something. No, she was hoping for someone. She was wishing for it to be Randar atop that horse, because even though her mind was forgetting things every day, her heart had not forgotten him. Try as it might, the Spider had been consistently unable to push Randar out of the thief's heart. Instead, it had to share space with his memory, which limited the dark item from reaching its full potential.


With a neigh and a snort, the horse came to a halt. It was black, decorated with white, perhaps chalk, that made it look like its bones were showing through its flesh. A dark-skinned man with a necklace of teeth hopped down from the saddle. He wore nothing aside for a leather wrap around his waist that fell in uneven lengths around his knees. He held a spear in his hand that seemed to be wrapped in hair. Black, blonde, even some silver locks were woven about the length of the weapon. No red, though... The Spider noticed.


The man spoke in a language that Ilyia did not understand. His language was harsh, with guttural throat noises and clicking of his teeth. She had no idea what he was saying, yet she thought... He wants to eat me. The thought crossed her mind just as he was throwing the spear at her. She moved to the side, and the sharpened tip of the weapon just barely grazed her arm, cutting lightly into her flesh. He wasted little time after throwing it. Releasing a battle cry, he ran at her and unsheathed a bone dagger from his waist. Quickly, now.





Ilyia caught his wrist as he raised the dagger above his head. He was not much taller than she. Holding his arm up, the thief quickly raised her knee, twice, into his exposed rib cage with as much force as she could muster. Having weakened him, she then swept his feet out from under him and, as he was falling, delivered a downward palm thrust to his sternum, knocking him into the ground with extra force. He returned the favor by kicking her in the stomach. She fell backwards into a somersault, and her hand gripped the spear staff as she was rising to her feet again. She twirled it a few times, and then readied herself. The man stood up and charged again, making that same cry as last time.


Now.





Ilyia let the spear fly. It's path was straight and level as it went into the man's open mouth and punctured out the back of his head. He stopped, choked a few times, and fell back onto the ground, dead with a spear sticking out of his mouth. Ilyia found herself walking toward his body.


Do it.





"I really don't want to."


You promised.





Ilyia knelt down, gathered a handful of blood, and rubbed it over her heart.
 
When the light was slowly dispersed, he found himself before a mirror. An image of himself. He looked at it, all while the cloaked figure stood by him, unmirrored. "What... what is this?" Randar asked, looking at the man, for guidance. "To be able to learn, you must first see yourself for what you are now." The man told him, speaking in riddles, as he has been since he first appeared. "You must look at the man who you are, as you stand. Connect with yourself and embrace what you are, and then you're ready to embrace the teachings of the First." "The teachings of the... First?" Randar repeated with utter confusion. He gazed at the cloaked man, then at himself in the strange mirror. "To embrace what I am..." he said to himself, before his gaze trailed to his covered eye. A shaky hand reached the patch that rested upon it, and took it off, slowly, all while he focused on his scar and the memory connected to it. It took him a moment to grasp the meaning of the old man's words, but as he did, he reached out to the image in the mirror, and as he tried to touch it, the image seemed to grasp his hand. At first, it was scary, but he understood that this all was meant to be, and within the moment, he found himself passing through the mirror, the image from it merging with him. And now he found himself in the middle of a large, round room.


On the other side of the room was a long corridor, and in the middle of it was a magic pool that shimmered with purple energy, much like the one that has taken over him when he reconnected the maps. The Circle. But as he looked behind, to see the old man in white, Randar was surprised to see that he was gone. Confusion took over him as he looked around, and the only way that he could go in was the corridor. Shaking his head, he began taking steps to the entrance in the corridor carefully, as if he did not wish to disturb anything. Something, a feeling in his gut, told him that he had to go that way, and so he did. At the end of the corridor, he was greeted with a tremendous library, one of the kind that he hasn't seen, even at the Court. It seemed to span over miles, perhaps, and shelves with books were all over. He was alone, but the same strange feeling in his gut was telling him that the books were the answers. "Find me between the words." A voice spoke, being heard all around him, and so, Randar decided to pick up the first book in his reach. Plopping himself down on the cold marble stone floor, he began reading intensely.


It has been months since his first day here. On most days, Randar would bury himself in books, stopping reading only when he'd pass out from exhaustion. The old man showed up on occassions, only to ask him if he's well, or to begin a practical lesson, or simply, to lecture him about something. Randar's mind was divided between all the information he received, and the thought of Ilyia. The desire to see her again, to feel her presence again, was burning in him, and so, he strained himself to the fullest to be able to get out quicker. One day, the old man called for him, and asked him to cast a new spell he'd learned. It should have been a quite simple matter, but exhaustion and distraction had caused him to nearly lose control of it, and almost burn himself. The old man shook his head in dissaproval and left him alone once more. "Being in a rush won't solve a thing. Learn to be patient." "Easy to say for someone who is not awaited by his most beloved person." Randar said more to himself than anything, before returning to his reads.


Another day, the old man handed Randar a blade. A short sword, similar to the one that he had taken his first life with. He felt... repulsed, and nearly tossed the blade as it remembered him of the event. However, the old man was quick to question him. "You feel guilty for what you have done, but I ask you, if you haven't had done it, what would've had happened?" It was a simple question, to which Randar found the answer in no time. Ilyia would've suffered, perhaps, a tragic fate. It was a means to salvation. "Killing innocents is a crime, but killing to protect the ones you love is how the course of life goes. But to be able to protect your beloved ones, you need to forgive what you had done in the past, and understand that there was no other way. Your love and dedication for her was what saved her. It is a necessity."


Randar had learned to look at things from another perspective, and by now, after another row of weeks from that point, he could carry the blade again. Moreover, he had learned how to imbue it with minor magic, to make it stronger and more effective. Again, the old man dissapeared, but in his stead, a younger one appeared, a man clad in a black robe, who carried a blade at his waist. Randar was oblivious to the fact that this "new" teacher was in fact just the old man under another face. "Stand and unsheathe." The mysterious figure ordered him, and in a moment, Randar was compelled to do so, finding himself under a rain of blade strikes much like back on the mountain. Only that this teacher was much more skilled than Ivan, and Randar found himself losing time, and again, each time the man appeared and demanded him to stand and fight. "Use magic on the blade. Use magic as a shield, to go with the blade." The man kept telling him, but everytime Randar would try to cast, he found himself under even more violent attacks. "An enemy will not give you time for long casting. Learn to speak the incantations faster."


The former prince didn't know quite exactly how much time has passed, but it could be anywhere between six and nine months. His old clothes were shredded and burnt during his training sessions, and so, he had received a strangely interesting robe, with chainmail on the inside. The White Mentor, as Randar himself called the mysterious man who did not even show his face during all this time, appeared once again, as he always did, seemingly out of nowhere, and called out to the magic adept former prince. "It is time." Randar could not believe what he had heard. Putting the book he was reading through aside, and stood, excited at the prospect of finally having finished his stages of training. He let himself led by the figure out, back through the cave through which they entered and back out. Randar had expected Ilyia to be, well, there, near the broken shrine, however, he felt a tad bit dissapointed when there was nothing there. "Perhaps she camped elsewhere..." He thought as the White Mentor walked him into the circle of grass and in front of the shrine. "Your final test awaits. Restore what has been broken. Thus you will restore yourself as a whole."


Randar stood there, looking at the broken stone. He trusted in his newly acquired power. He would pass the test, and finally see Ilyia again. Ilyia, the woman who had faith in him, the woman whom he loved sincerely. Extending his arms to the sides and somewhat in front of him, Randar closed his eye and channeled. The energy began gathering in the tips of his fingers and soon, his hands were engulfed in the purple glow. His eye, too, opened, and glowed with the very same energy. The stones began rumbling as they were slowly moved, lifted, and pieced together as a puzzle. It took Randar good moments to fit the shrine back together, but as he did, the shrine sparked with newfound life, just in time with his right eye, that suddenly awakened, much to the former prince's surprise as he felt it moving in its socket once again. The glow slowly left him, and his mentor approached, finally placing a hand on his shoulder when he was close enough. "You have passed. Now you must go. There is someone out there, awaiting, someone who needs you. More than ever." The cloaked figure said before turning and departing, not before instructing Randar. "A horse is awaiting for you behind. Take it. It's my gift."


He was excited. Just like the mentor had said, the horse awaited him, a black stallion that looked him in the eyes. Randar wasted no time in saddling himself and starting to look around for Ilyia. She must have been somewhere, there. She promised. He found a camp, easy enough, but it looked... abandoned. But there was something left behind. A grim, ominous energy that made the former prince feel sick. Magic energy that interfered with his own, and antagonized it. The same energy he felt on Ilyia. He understood now, what happened. Ilyia had been possessed. She needed him. He knew where she was headed. He felt her. Tugging at the horse's reins, Randar left in a gallop, heading west. It was as if something was guiding him back to her, as if their hearts were somehow connected. Or as if uncosciously, she thought about him. "Hang on, Ilyia. I'll reach you soon." He said as he galloped further, with full speed.
 
"I can't," Ilyia shook her head, talking to someone who wasn't there. "I can't anymore. Please... I'm tired."


A fire had been built, by her own hands though she had no recollection of doing it. She was dragging the dead man by his ankles toward the fire and had fallen down out of exhaustion. She couldn't remember the last time she ate or drank. It couldn't have been that long, otherwise she would have been dead, right? The Spider didn't want her dead. It needed her alive, so it must have been letting her at least do the necessary things to stay that way. But there, in that moment, Ilyia felt as if she'd been walking for years without stopping. She started to cry.


Almost there. The wind blew softly, as if a warm hand were touching her face and comforting her. Though... the wind hadn't blown at all. This one is filled with darkness. Throw him on the fire. When he burns, you will feel his strength.


Sniffling, Ilyia gave a nod. "Y-yes.... you're right. I will feel his strength."


Gripping the man's ankles once more, Ilyia rose to her feet. She gathered what strength she had left and pulled him the rest of the way to the fire. When his body was atop the flames and the terrible scent of burning flesh filled the air, Ilyia turned and fell to her knees. She thought she would retch, but she was unable to. Breathe. She gripped her shirt and pulled it open a bit, allowing her chest to breathe. The blackened spot near her heart had grown larger. She touched it, and it was cold.


The smoke that rose from the burning man's body swirled around the thief. It was darker than it should have been, thick, and heavy with dark magic. It entered the thief's chest, causing her to cry out in pain. It only lasted a few moments, but it seemed like an eternity.


"This... is it." She thought aloud, her voice weak.


She was going to die here. She wasn't strong enough for the Spider to use to its full potential. Tears began to well up in her eyes, clouding her vision. She left Randar, broke her promise to him. She had traveled tirelessly in hopes of making it to the Blood Plains. She had done so many things... all for nothing. All to die here, alone, in the middle of nowhere. You will not die. The voice told her. It was less of an assurance of an order. Still, Ilyia found herself falling face first into the grass. Maybe she wasn't going to die, but she still felt so, so tired.


"Just let me sleep," she pleaded. "Just for a little while."


As her eyes began to close, she heard the voice speak to her. Alright... just for a little while. But don't forget. You-


"I promised." She said before she lost consciousness.
 
He rode on and on, his horse seeming tireless, galloping like the swift wind. Before the night had set in, the former prince was out of the Ancient Forest, and back into Nethander. The only stops he ever made were by abandoned camps that practically reeked of the black magic that possessed his partner. He had also found corpses that had been lying there for days, all of them having been killed brutally. Just like the serial killer in Hawndor. But one thing Randar could know for sure, none of them were men without a guilt in the world. The Spider turned Ilyia into a vengeful force who murdered those who preyed on the weak. After all, she was set out to kill her former slavers. The scum of the earth.


He guided himself by the strong senses that the arcane training had provided, and by the unique connection he had with the thief. It took him enough, and the night had gone by with him practically getting no rest. He had learned to suppress his needs by using arcane as a source, but he also knew that doing this for too long could result in exhaustion far greater than he could bear. He felt her, there, under all the magic that tried to take control over her whole being. The Ilyia he knew was still somewhere there. I will not stop. He urged himself as he rode on. She needs me, she will be lost if I don't get to her soon. The horse seemed to be in the same thought as he, taking him through the fields and forest with speed, unrelenting, without showing any signs of fatigue. It was as if the black steed was fed by Randar's will and energy.


A new dawn arose, and Randar felt the dark energy closer and closer. She couldn't have been far, but he, himself, began feeling exhaustion. He only took a brief stop to have something to eat and to drink, from the pack that was carefully strapped to the stallion, before jumping again in the saddle and going off into a gallop once more, following the source of the dark energy. What if the dark energy commanded Ilyia to attack him? What would he do then? He couldn't very well fight her. No, he would not, under any circumstance, fight his beloved Ilyia. He would find a way to contain her, struggle to dispel the darkness that has taken hold on her. He would not, under any circumstance, fight her.


The day was at its noon when Randar approached the camp which Ilyia had made. From afar, he could notice right away a large, charred... sillhouette, but Ilyia was lying further than it. When his eyes made contact with the unmistakable auburn color of her hair, Randar felt his heart drop from his chest. Ilyia was lying there, and for a second, the fear of her being dead had overcome him. As he approached, he could feel her pulse, although very weak, all covered by the darkness that danced around her, very much visible to him due to his magic affinity. It was... repulsive, horrid, disgusting, gut-wrenching and hateful. Randar jumped from the saddle, pulling the hood of his robe off and running to kneel next to Ilyia. The darkness seemed to disperse, sickened as well by his presence that was somehow overpowering it.


His arms picked up the unconscious Ilyia, and he turned her around, to look at her. She looked... tortured. For him, it was a heartbreaking sight, and even with all the self-control he had learned in his training, he still felt the fear that crept into his bones. Her shirt, still opened enough, gave him a good look at the black spot that was on her chest, a black spot that extended under her collarbone. He felt many things at once, most of all, relief, for he had found her, but also fear. He could still feel her there, but her presence was so weak. The first thing he did was gently lie her down, and press a hand to the black spot on her skin. Closing his eyes, the former prince began chanting something under his breath, channeling magic that began swirling around his fingers and hand, magic which was met with heavy opposition by the black aura surrounding Ilyia, so much so that Randar continued to forcefully channel, slowly consuming himself in the process before a sudden shockwave struck him, throwing him down on his back, a loud hiss resounding in his mind. The glow around his hand dissapeared, and pain threatened to explode throughout his body as he stood, weakly, feeling Ilyia's presence gaining amplitude. With a sigh of relief, Randar, much like his beloved, collapsed next to her, the hours of no sleep combined with the exhaustion causing him to simply take a forceful rest against his will. But he had found her.
 
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"Let me go!" Ilyia screamed.


Her protests were met with a sharp backhand. Her lip smashed into her teeth and split open. Rage burned inside of her and made her cry. The man was standing above her, as she had fallen onto the ground. He held his whip in one hand while his other hand worked on undoing his pants. The frightened child looked all around her. Everyone was there watching, but no one seemed to care. No one did a thing.


"See that, ya dirty little street rubbish?" The man laughed at her. "You aren't so special after all."


Ilyia cried big, heart wrenching sobs. Her shoulder shook with the force of her sadness. The man lifted his whip and cracked her with it. It wrapped around her leg like a vengeful snake, biting into her flesh and making her bleed. He retracted it again, but the second whip did not come. Instead, he stood there staring straight ahead with wide eyes as if he'd seen a ghost. Ilyia suddenly noticed that there was a broken piece of metal sticking out from his chest. His eyes dropped down to her.


Promise?


I promise.





Ilyia awoke with a start, spitting and gasping for air. She rolled to the side and clutched her chest painfully. It was burning and throbbing harder than she had ever felt it before. The wound had been aggravated greatly. In her unconscious state, the Spider had fought against the purification. It had filled Ilyia's head with thoughts to remind her of her purpose, and then it had cast Randar's magic out. It was still there, living and crawling inside of her, but Ilyia was aware of it for the first time in what felt like forever. Wheezing, she looked around wildly, as if trying to figure out where she was and what was going on. She turned her head to the side and... that's when she saw him.


At first, she thought he was an illusion. It had been... well, she didn't know how long it'd been since she'd seen him. Surely he could not be real. Why would he come after her, after she broke her promise? She reached out and touched his motionless body. He was real; she discovered that. But then... she thought he was dead. She thought the Spider had killed him, or worse... or worse, that she had killed him. Tears pooled in her eyes as she hovered over him, reaching a trembling hand toward his heart.


"R-ran...dar?" She managed to choke out his name.


Her hand touched his heart, and relief flooded through her. It was beating! Thank the gods, it was beating. Her teary eyes saw the slow pattern of his breathing. When they lifted up toward his face, she saw that he still wore the pendant she had given him. The pendant that she still wore. Unable to contain her emotions, she laid her head down upon his chest like a child and cried. The jostling and the noise would surely stir him, and he would be greeted with the image of the weakened shadow of her former self holding onto him for dear life.


"Randar!" She cried. "I'm s-sorry... I didn't w-want to leave. I swear it. But I couldn't-"


That's enough.


"Ah!" She pulled away from him, clutching her heart. "What are you doing?" She said to no one. You are happy to see him, but you still have work to do. "Oh... that's right." Her hand fell away from her heart. She looked at him and smiled. "I am so happy to see you, but... I still have work to do." You promised. "I promised. Would... you like to come with me?"
 
His awakening came gradually, first, to the sounds of Ilyia's cries and second... to the sounds of her talking to someone? What exactly was going on? Randar's eyes popped open, both of them, and he blinked a few times. There was still a very obvious scar across his right eye, but the eye itself was regenerated. He was still getting used to a complete line of sight again. The fatigue had worn off, but he'd need much more sleep than what he had. It was close to dusk, perhaps two hours away from it. He felt the strong presence of the grim magic so close to him, its shadowy limbs dancing over him, trying to overpower him but retracting as his own aura came to life and acted as a mighty shield. There was still a hard to suppress pain in his bones.


"Ilyia..." He muttered as he came to a standing position, his eyes fixating on the woman with tears in her eyes, who was apparently talking alone. No, the dark force is talking to her, he thought, and looked at her, both his eyes examining her body. She looked ravaged, to say the least, almost like a wreck of the vivid beauty that she used to be. She was still beautiful, but she looked fatigued, broken, and her eyes were almost empty, only filled with mighty confusion. She needs me. The thought occured to him, but in that moment, all he could do was simply let himself fall against her and embrace her tightly. Oh, how he had missed her. The shadows around her danced angrily, only visible to him, as the physical contact between them caused the darkness to pull back.


Letting the embrace go, Randar placed his hands on her cheeks and looked her in the eyes for what felt like an eternity, holding her there whilst silently fighting to push away the darkness that had taken a grip on her. "Ilyia, look at me, alright?" He said, struggling hardly to maintain his calm. "I need you to focus. Look at me, and listen. You're on the brink, Ilyia. I've returned, just as I promised, and everything will be alright, but you have to help me, so I can help you. Please Ilyia, listen to me, stay focused. Fight the darkness, I can't put you out of it all myself. You need to fight it and come back into reality. It's turning you mad. Ilyia, you promised me you'll never stray so far that I won't reach you. I know you are in my reach, just grab my hand. Stay focused."


He sealed his words by getting closer and pressing his lips to hers, part out of his almost desperate need to feel her kiss again and part to make a valiant attempt at bringing her clarity back. It was the last gesture she had done when they parted ways. Perhaps this will help calm her down now.
 
The thief looked almost emaciated. She had begun to thin, most likely due to the lack of care she was giving herself. Normally, she would have never done such a thing. It only solidified the fact that she had not been in control as often as she would have liked to be. Her honey colored eyes seemed to have a glaze over them, as if a veil kept her from truly seeing Randar. Even when he was just a few feet away from her, he seemed hazy and almost unreal. But when he came close and pulled her into his body she knew, without a doubt, that he was real. She closed her eyes. It hurt, she realized. It hurt to have him close because the Spider wanted her to associate him with pain. But she wanted him close. She would endure all the pain in the world to keep him so.


"Randar!" She exclaimed again, as if she were seeing him for the first time. "You're... you're here? You're really here?"


The veil slowly began to peel itself away from her as she looked at him. His hands felt so warm and so real on her face. How many nights she had imagined him doing this exact thing. How many times she had longed to have him hold her in his warm embrace. Even though she felt happy that he was here, she still wasn't really hearing his words. Ilyia was looking him in the face and thinking how lovely it was that he had both of his eyes now. That he could see with both of them. That scar didn't matter. It could never tarnish his handsome face. The Spider was allowing her to get lost in the thoughts so she didn't hear what he was telling her because if she heard it, she would have surely listened. She would have grabbed hold and pulled herself up and out of the darkness.


A sound of surprise left her with Randar's lips claimed Ilyia's. Her eyes were wide for a second as she could feel the invisible webs that had been wrapped around her start to loosen. She was able to feel the sensation of his lips and his touch. She could smell him, taste him, and it was wonderful. Her eyes closed and she wrapped her arms around him. Her head tilted to the side a bit so she could deepen the kiss. She hadn't realized how much she had needed it until now. The thief would have kissed him forever if she could have, but alas, she had to breathe. She pulled away and looked at him, touching his face.


"You... found me." She said quietly. "After I left you, you still wanted to find me."


Her eyes filled up with tears and she shook her head a few times. She couldn't believe it. Ilyia couldn't believe that she was worthy of such dedication, not after what she'd done. Though... what had she done? She was having a hard time remembering. She furrowed her brow and sat back on her haunches, hands atop her thighs. The confusion was starting to settle in again.


"I.. I did wait." Her eyes went back and forth, as if reading invisible text. "I waited and then... and then I didn't. I don't even know how long it was."
 
Her kiss felt so good, and Randar was happy to small tears that appeared at the corners of his eyes that he had finally reached out to Ilyia, the real Ilyia, the woman who had been such a major change in his life. He looked at her, and the only answer he could find to her remark about him finding her came off his lips without him even willing to hold it back. "Because I love you." It was a truth most dire, it couldn't be anything less but pure love that he felt for her, which gave him the determination to fight for her with a lion's courage. The shadows terrified him, but his faith in his love for Ilyia and his dedication to her would not let him fall back. Whenever the shadows pushed again to try and seize control of her, he intensified his aura, driving them back at the expense of his own fatigue. A worthy price.


He watched her as she tried to confusely explain herself to him. He only reached out to cup her cheek tenderly and give her the same smile he had always given her. "Shhhh... you don't need to explain anything, it's alright. I know you waited. You're tired, Ilyia. Come." He nodded before standing and more or less pulling her up as well. He took the time to pick her belongings off the ground and then, when all was settled, he picked her up ever so gently, and placed her on the horse side saddle. She was weakened, that much he could tell. No matter how much she would deny, or how much the dark forces inside her would tell her to get away, he wasn't going to let her. Jumping in the saddle as well, Randar gripped the reins and tugged at them, the horse starting trotting westward.


By nightfall, the couple has reached a lonely inn, that seemingly belonged to no village. Randar helped himself off the saddle and did the same with Ilyia, feeling truly exhausted as he valiantly struggled to maintain his aura strong enough to disperse the darkness that fought to claim her. It was a heavy fight, and pain was inflicted into him as much as into her, but he wouldn't renounce. He had gone this far, he would go so much further for his love. He made his way into the inn, taking Ilyia's hand and holding tightly onto it to make sure that she wasn't going anywhere else but with him, and he picked, as always, a table in a corner to sit at. This inn, at least, was quite empty, and soon, the serving girl had come to take the orders, Randar ordering a stew and a tankard of mead, something he felt he hadn't drank in ages. "What will you have?" He asked Ilyia as he sat beside her, the serving girl awaiting to hear the response.
 
Eyelids fluttered like the beat of a butterfly's wings, and the world seemed to stop. He.... loved her. The words froze her in an awestruck way. She could hardly believe it. Her heart beat three, strong beats that was all its own. No magic, no Spider, just Ilyia's heart beating for him. The darkness was quick to reclaim it, and it squeezed a little more tightly to remind her that it was still there. That it wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. She had made a promise, and she was going to keep that promise. The amount of bloodshed would be enough to fuel the Spider completely, so that it could open up and release its darkness unto the world like a fog.


She was so disoriented that she couldn't speak. She, of course, loved him, too, and she wanted to tell him that but couldn't. Instead she had tried to explain her reasoning to him about why she'd left and ended up failing miserably. He was patient, though, and oh so tender with her. His touch was so warm she didn't realize how cold she'd been without it. When he cradled her in her arms, she felt small and insignificant. But she rested her head against his chest, listened to his heart, and smiled nonetheless. "I missed you." She said softly, and listened to his heart speed up in response.


You'll suck the magic out of him and burn him like the rest. The voice was trying to tell her. No... she thought back. Not this one. The voice reacted by hurting her, as it always did, but she tried not to let it show. Randar was trying to help her, after all. She had to keep the darkness at bay so it didn't hurt him. She could tell it was waning on him. The Spider had allowed her to see that he now possessed a power of his own that was quite the opposite of the power that possessed her. If anyone could save her, she knew he could.


The inn was the first civilized settlement Ilyia had seen in months. She carried her pack on her shoulder and followed Randar inside. The table in the corner brought back foggy pieces of memories. Her brain tried to recall the Nantgarth tavern in which she had slipped him the laudanum and felt so guilt about it she'd covered him up in a horse stall. But all the Spider would allow her to see was the fight that she and Randar had gotten into after he'd woken up and figured her out. Then she remembered the two men she had fought on the outskirts of town, how it felt to throw a dagger into the one man's eye socket and...


"Miss?" The serving girl inquired gently.


"Hm?" Ilyia blinked and turned to look at her, as if only now realizing she was there. "What is it?"


"Would you like something to eat?" The girl seemed to take a step back, as if off put by Ilyia's worn state.


"Oh, uhm... yes. Stew. Stew would be fine."


Her honey eyes darkened as the girl walked away, undoubtedly thinking the worst. The wave passed, though. She remembered that Randar was there with her. She turned her head to look at him. He had taken her west, she now remembered. That was good. They were going closer to the Blood Plains. It seemed he really was going to help her after all. "You must tell me all about your journey." She said with a small smile. She spent the duration of her meal only half listening to him speak. Despite her voracious appetite, she ate the stew slowly. It seemed to have a strange taste for some reason. She ignored it, and before she knew it their meal was done. They were heading upstairs, where Randar insisted that Ilyia take a hot bath. He had left her alone for at least that long, but never strayed far from the room. When she had finished washing the collection of dirt and grime from her body and hair, she wrapped herself in a warm shroud so her clothes could be cleaned overnight. Her long auburn waves were nearly down to her bottom now, adding to the enigmatic appearance she seemed to have taken on.


Now, she sat on the edge of the bed with her hands on her thighs. Her eyes roamed the room. It had been... so long... since she'd slept under a roof. It was almost intimidating. "I can't remember the last time I slept on a bed," she said with a humorless laugh. "I fear I'd forgotten what they even felt like."
 
It was straining him greatly to keep the darkness away from her, but he said nothing of it. He was decided to fight this great enemy until the last bit of his strength, physical, psychical and arcane, would be drained. Ilyia was there, and she was eaten away by this plague. He had felt the Spider moving frantically within her as it fought its way against his magic earlier. He knew it was there, and his tired mind sought a way to make it get out of her without having to act physically to remove it. Black magic, the source of all evil. It fed with life itself. The Spider acted as a parasite that sucked the life out of her, and fed with her negative emotions, as well as with the blood she spilled. If there was one thing he could do to slow her down, it was not allowing her to kill any further. And watching closely over her. The shadows were still dancing about her frame, and once the meal having been brought to them, Randar began eating and drinking, the feeding process feeling refreshing and giving him new energy to continue, at least for a while.


He began telling her about the White Mentor, and about the mysterious figure clad in black who had taught him advanced sword fighting and how to use magic to enhance melee combat. About the thousands of books he had gone through, thousands of the many more that existed in the library. About how much he'd missed her, in all of this time, and about how he had managed to practically restore his own eye. He proudly patted the blade that rested at his hip, and explained her how magic combined with swordfighting would work. He knew that she was only half there, his magic aura could only do so much in pushing the darkness off her. But he was struggling to at least keep it that way.


He awaited for her to take a bath, more out of fear of her suddenly dissapearing. After she'd had her bath, he escorted her to their room, and whilst Ilyia spoke, he changed himself, only taking off the robe and putting on a buttoned shirt for the night, keeping the trousers he had on. He was so happy to have her back. Moving to the small vanity table that was located somewhere in the middle of the room, Randar picked up a sccissors and began trimming his beard, a beard that had grown out a lot, but uneven, giving him a messy look. He also took care of his hair, which also grew enough, reaching now somewhere below his jawline. He only trimmed it, however. He looked, well, vastly different from the Randar that Ilyia had met the first time, but that, too, was a sign of how much he had changed and matured, and he was proud of it.


Having finished taking care of himself, Randar felt so exhausted that he wanted nothing more but to sleep. But he feared sleeping would allow Ilyia to run. Well, not Ilyia, but the entity that was inside her. Crawling into bed, he firstly stopped beside her, and, moving her long hair aside, he uncovered her nape. His lips connected to her soft skin, all whilst he gave the last bit of magical energy for the day to draw a small seal on the back of one of her shoulders. "Let's sleep, my love." He said in a hushed tone, coiling an arm about her thin body to try and convince her to lie down with him and let them both sleep. The seal he had drawn on her would act as an alarm to him, and would wake him up as soon as she would attempt to leave the inn. That way, he knew he wasn't going to lose her again.
 
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Ilyia watched Randar carefully in everything he did. It was due to a mixture of having not seen him in so long and the paranoia that the dark magic had sprung to life inside of her. The Spider was trying hard to convince Ilyia that Randar and everything he represented was bad. It had been able to convince her of everything before, but it was running into a wall here. He wasn't bad. She knew that in every part of her being, and nothing seemed able to deter that. How could he be bad if she loved him so much? You love me, the Spider lied, and I am bad. But Ilyia didn't love it. Or... wait... did she?


Randar arrived next to her on the bed at the perfect moment. She was beginning to second guess herself again when he moved her hair aside. His touches were feather light, but she felt them in the deepest parts of her. Goosebumps rose upon her flesh, and she could not help but to close her eyes and release a sigh when his lips touched her neck. It's magic. He's using magic on you! Sealing you. Trapping you. The Spider was furious with this, but Ilyia didn't seem to care. She was so tired, and he felt so wonderful.


"Sleep?" She suddenly opened her eyes as he tugged her down next to him. "I... don't know if I can." She hadn't slept like she used to. Along with eating and drinking and everything else, her sleep had also diminished. When she did, it was more of an entranced state in which the Spider took full control of her body, so she was still tired when she came back around. But maybe she would be able to sleep if he was there with her. She tried resting her head against his chest and closing her eyes. Maybe it would help.


It did, but only for a little while. She had slept fitfully for a few hours before she was up again. Innately knowing that she couldn't leave, Ilyia sat in the bed with her back against the wall and simply stared out the open window while the Spider stretched it web out and into the town. It searched for darkness, for tainted blood that Ilyia could take. It had been satiated from the man she had killed and burnt, but Randar's presence had suddenly drawn on its reserves and made it feel like it needed more already. It was a quiet night, though, and the web could find nothing worth going after. So, Ilyia remained in the room throughout the night. When the sun rose and Randar stirred awake, she would still be sitting there.


The sun illuminated her figure. Her tan skin had an uncharacteristic pallor to it, though her long hair still shone as brilliantly as it ever did. It was obvious where she had started to thin, but it hadn't been too much yet. If she continued eating, she would certainly put the mass back on easily enough. Her amber eyes turned toward Randar when he awoke.


"I couldn't sleep," she said apologetically. "I need to keep moving west. There's one thing left for me to do. And then we can sail across the Midnight Sea, just like we talked." The Spider was moving her again, making her seem like her former self and pulling up memories that it knew would speak to Randar. In the next breath, however, Ilyia would blink herself back into being.


"Please don't try to dispel it anymore," she begged him. "It will hurt you. I don't want it to hurt you just... just leave it be."
 
His own sleep was tainted by visions. He found himself floating through an unrecognizable space, facing a dark figure that seemed to be measuring him. Somehow, he recognized this figure, but alas, he was unable to pinpoint its face in time. The figure spoke with a distorted voice, words in a grim tongue that he remembered learning about in the Circle. Ominous incantations. "What are you?" Randar asked, and the figure simply took a step towards him. "I am vengeace. I am pain. Suffering. Death. I am the beginning and the end. You cannot stop me." Randar felt, again, frightened by this terrific power that took over his beloved, but he swore he would not let himself fall. Much like the old man in the white robe back at the Circle, Randar lifted his head and created a ball of light that dispelled the darkness, causing the figure to scurry away and hiss in pain. "I, alone, can't stop you. But I can damn well try."





And up he was. The pain in his bones had subsided, and he felt, in the least, rested. It still felt bad. He looked at Ilyia, and he immediately spot the characteristic veil over her eyes that was there when the Spider had control over her. He knew those weren't her words, but he couldn't really oppose. What could he actually do, tie her up and take her east? The Spider controlled her, and could kill her if it wanted to. He guessed as much, and so, he decided only to follow and try to save her from whatever effects this vengeance of hers would have on her. However, in the next moment, the real Ilyia was there, pleading to him to stop trying to oppose the black magic. He stood and looked her in the eyes, knowing full well that the Spider heard as well. "I rather die than let this... thing keep control over you. It can hurt me, but it will never break my will. I can't look at the person I love suffering in this manner because of this vile... being."


Placing a soft kiss upon Ilyia's lips, Randar went on to getting dressed. The two had a rather quick breakfast, and Randar again started using his aura in silence to antagonize the shadows over the thief. With the breakfast over, Randar decided it was time for them to leave. Tugging the hood of his robe over his head, he picked up the belongings they had and went out to strap them to the horse, which he had named, suggestively, Swiftwind.


An hour later found the two on the horse, riding westward. Randar understood that the quicker they got to the Blood Plains, the better and the faster would this whole ordeal come to an end, and so, Swiftwind galloped on the road, its hooves beating the dusty ground and raising more dust. Randar was beginning to feel, after another hour or so, the strain of having to push his magic aura against the shadows that circled about his companion, seeking to embrace her fully. It was a heavy fight, and not only once did he feel as if a physical force tried to push him off the horse. But he wouldn't stop. He was stalwart, and he knew that soon his arcane reserves would be once more fully depleted.
 
"Randar, please." She tried to plead with him. "I don't want you to die. I would be consumed over and over again if it meant keeping you well."


The Spider seemed to take this as a hint, and decided to squeeze her just a little tighter. She was getting too free with her thoughts and words, and it simply could not have that. Not after all the hard work it had put forth. Not when it was so close to getting what it wanted. It was, however, disappointed to see that Randar had not listened to his companion's pleas. He was steady in his convictions, and it seemed he wasn't going down without a fight. Well, if it's a fight you want. Then a fight he was going to get.


Something as simple as two meals in a row had been enough to gain Ilyia some of her strength back. She didn't seem quite so hollow anymore. That probably had to do with Randar as much as it did the food, though. His arcane abilities combined with the invisible tether between the two seemed to be strong enough for now. They were connected through their pendants, which had seemed to channel their hearts' desires in such a way that they could feed that magic back and forth through the necklaces. The future seemed just a little brighter with the former prince around again.


After several hours of riding, Ilyia took it upon herself to pull the horse's reigns and slow it to a walk. The breakneck pace was hard on the beast, but it was also hard on its riders. Ilyia's body felt weary, and she knew that Randar's did too. More than once she had watched his grip on the reigns slip a bit.


"Slow down. You aren't going to be any good to anyone if you kill yourself." She was beginning to sound more and more like herself.


Swiftwind walked, and Ilyia looked around at their surroundings. There was a small sense of anxiety rattling around inside of her. While the Spider didn't care at what pace she went to the Blood Plains, just so long as she actually went there, it wasn't in favor of this much time in such close proximity to Randar. Water, there. You should get down and lead the horse to drink.





"I should get down and lead the horse to drink," she said aloud, repeating what the Spider had told her.


And she did just that. She slid from the saddle and landed a bit awkwardly on the ground. Then, taking the horse by the reins, she led it off the path a ways to a small stream cutting through the land. It wasn't much, but it would have to do for now.
 
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