Darkness and Light. (Anowell and Nivansrywyllian.)

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by Anowell, Jun 12, 2015.

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  1. A ray of light slashed through the air. It missed its moving target by just a little. If it had hit, the target's armor would have been greatly hurt. Another, bigger ray appeared, but this one was a shield, to protect self from the now attacking enemy. Small balls of red, orange and yellow light where attacking from everywhere and Anya found herself trapped. There has to be a way out. She looked around, her shield pounding from the small impacts. But there was always a way. With all the strength she had left today she pushed away the floating shield, it flying away from her like a pushed wall, and for a second it blinded her enemy, giving her enough time to jump up. And jump down behind him. With a small hit on his neck, Anya yelled. ''I win!'' She backed a few steps away, giggling.

    ''Pft.'' The man spat, holding in a laugh himself. ''I could have finished you if I wanted to.'' Anya giggled some more as the two started walking back towards the village. Armor they had just on disappeared, as it have been created by their own energy.

    ''You're going on a quest tomorrow? Right?'' Anya asked the man as they walked. They were friends since Anywa joined the army three years ago.

    ''Mhm.'' He nodded. He has been going on a lot of tasks since he became a scout soldier in the Valiryan army. ''They still don't want to tell me what it is. Gotta be something big.'' He said while picking up a pebble. When he straightened himself up he was visibly taller than Anya.

    ''That's what you get for being a scout.'' The shorter girl joked, earning another pft from her friend.

    ''Yeah, I guess I should have just became a general like yourself.'' Danel commented and threw the pebble away into the green bushes, making Anya laugh one more time as they walked away from the arena they have been fighting in, and into the town of Minnue. The capital of Valirya.

    Anya of Valirya.
  2. The border crossing had been rough. One of his support runners -Eljas- had been found in a town just past the border of Valriya, and captured. It darkened the Hunter's mind to think just what the White Ones would do to interrogate him. Perhaps they'd just execute him, and be done with it. He prayed that there wasn't an inquisition on this side. For Eljas' sake.

    Since he'd crossed into Valirya, the Hunter had foregone the dark cloak he'd been given for his journey, and had picked up a new -less conspicuous- cloak for the road. Luck hadn't beset him on his way just yet, and he didn't want to draw too much attention to himself. He'd foregone the pristine white cloak he'd been offered at his crossing, taking with him instead a cloak of unremarkable brown wool. He wore no armor to speak of, beyond riding leathers, and occasionally found himself reaching to the paired short-swords that usually hung at his hips. They weren't there, of course, but tucked discretely within his bedroll. An armed man was a memorable man, in a small village.

    The day was growing late, and the shadows were growing long. The day smelled of the last night's rain, though there was no cloud in the sky. Mud on the road had dried largely, though there was the rare puddle along the path.

    Pulling his horse to a stop, the Hunter unseated himself from his mount, and lead the beast over to a nearby shrub, to tie the beast down. He gave the mane a stroke or two, before approaching one of the puddles, and dropping into an easy crouch.

    He stared into the murky water, his own reflection staring back. He was pale of skin, and dark of hair. It curled, even cut short as it was. He was handsome, but perhaps a little too bold of nose to be considered gorgeous. His angular jaw was clean shaven, and his eyes were a cloudy grey. A hood framed his face, deep and brown.

    One gloved hand descended, to lightly touch the puddle, sending out a ripple.

    His image vanished, replaced by that of a man equally pale, but blonde, and blue-eyed.

    The face in the puddle spoke.

    "It's about time. I've been waiting for fucking hours."

    "What news?" Asked the Hunter.

    "You've got to get a move on Wyt. My connections have already spied two other hunters as far as Ferringwey. Where are you?"

    "Nearly to Minnue. I'll make it by nightfall, if I ride hard. No news of Eljas?"

    The blonde man grimaced, and shook his head silently. "You'd better make this work, Wyt. Once we've got the White one back to Domino, we're coming back for him.

    The Hunter flashed the man a tight smile. They both knew that the only thing they'd likely bring back after three months in enemy hands was remains. "Shadows hide you, brother."

    "Shadows hide you," Returned the blonde man. The Hunter drew his fingers through the puddle again, dashing the image, and breaking the spell. He was a spellsword, capable of fantastic violence with both sword and sorcery, but he really shone in the field.

    Back to his mount he walked, clicking his tongue in admonishment as the beast chewed at the grass. "Time to go, girl." He insisted, untying her reins from the shrub to mount up. He kicked her to a quick trot, a pace he'd hold for about an hour, before clambering down to run beside her at an easier pace for another. Back and forth, all the way to Minnue.

    Upon reaching the city, the man approached the gates, standing wide. He was part of a line of entrants to the city, and it took him nearly another hour to get through. Come morning, he would begin his search for his contact, and his captive.
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  3. After parting ways with Danel, Anya proceeded towards her home. A very big household outside the walls of the palace. Getting to it she walked down the white streets of Minnue. Marble households, taverns, and shops are decorated in many plants and gems. Colorful flowers, leafy vines, anything that holds life. The gems are decorating windows and doors, and the light bounces off of them, making the whole town one big light spectacle. No one thinks of stealing them, even the lower citizens of Minnue are not poor. Among other things in this great capital, small wooden stands with loud sellers offer your greatest desires. Jewelry, food, potions. The choices are endless. And the sellers aren't the only ones making noise. Children's laugh's everywhere, lords and ladies taking relaxing strolls, old people having relaxing chats. Anya walks the streets in her light brown leather boots with a smile on her face. She loves how alive Minnue is.

    After a twenty minute walk she reaches her home, it is right at the edge of the city where the highest lords and ladies live. Behind it is the great Evergreen forest. And every household around here a lot of space and privacy. Anya has been assigned this home a year ago when she became a general. She crosses the bridge that allows passage to the mansion and within minutes she is inside. The inside is decorated with white marble, crystals and white silk with a small hint of light blue. All in all, this is an expensive place to live.


    Anya slowly closes the door and immediately her most important servant runs towards her. ''Lady Anya.'' He offers her a small bow.

    ''Hello Alredo.'' She greets him with a smile and crosses the grand entrance room, walking towards the main stairs. ''I won't be needing anything anymore today. You may go home. And I will see you in two days.'' She sends the old man a small wink and he smiles to his lady.

    ''Thank you. Goodnight my lady. May light follow you.'' And after getting a soft ''May light follow you, goodnight.'' from Anya he exits the mansion and Anya walks up the stairs. Valirya is celebrating ''The Nature Festival'' in the next two days and all servants are sent home to be with their families.

    Walking into her room the young general leans onto the big doors. She is nervous, a sigh escaping from her lips. After the festival is over she will be finally sent to a real battlefield to operate a small troop. It will be the first time shes leaving Minnue since she was fourteen, when she originally came here. She left her small farm life after the Valiryan army took a big interest in her abilities, and here she is.

    A bath. She needs a bath to settle down her nerves. Her feet move towards her grand, bedroom bathroom.
  4. The hunter had spent a while looking around the city. The people seemed happy, but the opulence was sickening. Gemstones lined walls. Hawkers cried their wares. Even one of these houses could feed a hundred lowborn Dominians for a year. A thousand. More? The Hunter kept his hood forward, as he stalked. Not just any White One was going to do, though. He needed someone with potential. With status. Someone with whom he could simultaneously carry out his mission, and send a message to the White Ones.

    He found his horse carrying him across the city, away from the noise of the city's center, toward a more secluded, less cramped place of populous. Of course, in comparison to the Low Streets of Domino's bigger cities, the whole city was a ghost town. He half-expected a knuckle-thumper or a streetwalker to stop him. To demand his purse, or to offer satisfaction. Maybe both. Neither happened.

    He passed a man in a servant's livery, as he approached a bridge, his brow arching quizzically. Awful late to be sending servants on errands, he thought. But who knew what these White Ones did? His eyes turned to the manse across the bridge. They narrowed, and he set out, determined. A hand dipped beneath his cloak, to touch the little flask at his hip. The canteen was ordinary, but it's contents were an alchemical concoction. Half magic, half science, he'd been told they'd seal away the powers of the Light, if consumed. How he was going to get his target to drink it however, was his problem.

    He circled the house once. It was really more of a mansion than a home. It would do for his hunting ground, but he couldn't very well leave his horse tied out front. He saw a great pine forest not far off from the manor, shaking his head with confusion. He rode to it, and left his horse tied out-of-sight, some three minutes' walk into the wood.

    The way back to the manor was a quick run, barely even five minutes. The Hunter wasn't very well going to walk in the front door. Instead, he glanced to the walls of the house, built more for aesthetic beauty than for security. Easy to climb. One corner of his mouth rose in a crooked smirk, and he began to ascend. On the second story, he found a walkway open to the sky. Had these people never faced invasion? Assassination? He clambered over the balcony, and quietly tried the nearest door. It too, was unlocked.

    Still suspicious, but anxious to get to the master of the house, the Hunter crept in. Closing the door behind him, he found himself in a dim hallway, long and opulent. Boots were muffled over the red-and-gold carpet underfoot, and eyes flicked from door to door. He'd have to start his search somewhere. His hand settled on the first door to the left, even as a woman came into view.

    He froze. There was no mistaking him for a servant. Not with his cloak. He was an intruder, and there was no mistaking it. She would have to do.

    He launched into motion, sprinting down the hallway toward the woman. A hand rose to the clasp on his cloak, as it billowed out behind him. It would slow him down in a fight. It released, flying back from the pale man as he moved. Cursing his luck, the Hunter gritted his teeth, and flung out a hand. His swords were with his horse, in the forest. Magic would have to suit him.

    A tiny orb, no bigger than half the man's palm sped in front of him at a startling pace. It made a whistling sound as it flew, and it seemed to soak in the light around it. His fingers flexed into a fist, and the orb exploded into a billowing cloud of black smoke, thick and dark as it reached the woman at the end of the hall.
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  5. The bath was almost already ready, Anya just wanted to spice it up a little, so she headed outside the bathroom, then bedroom, towards the kitchen downstairs where they held fresh flower petal's, among other things. Taking a small glass jar of some pink petals she headed back up. She was about to enter her room again when she heard a sound, and slowly turned around. Her eyes widened a bit as she spotted the intruder. She was only wearing a bra, underwear and a light, silk kimono. Pre-bath clothes. Was the person in front of her lost? In the next second, she knew he was not.

    In the last safe moment of time Anya raised her hands up, dropping the small glass container onto the floor, and formed a weak shield. The glass shattered, and the petals escaped. The created shield protected Anya but it wasn't created all the way, so the ball didn't hurt her more than a few scratches, but she was bounced away. And she hit the small desk with her back. The fall was hard and it took her a few painful moments to stand up. The flower petals scattered around from the blow, the a few moments ago beautiful hallway was now a mess.

    ''Who are you?'' Anya hissed, moving into a battle stand, lowered hands at the ready. Legs steady. She eyed the intruder, no one she knows. The attack wasn't very loud, no one had heard it. And if this person was too much for her to handle she will have to send out a signal. How did he even get here? ''I hope you know who you're dealing with.'' She added before armor appeared on her body.
  6. Wyt didn't have any words for the woman. Breath was for battle, not smalltalk. The would-be kidnapper darted into the rapidly expanding billow of black smoke, allowing the expansion of the cloud to hide his movements. He felt more than saw a shifting of the smoke. The orb had largely been a distraction, and cover for the young kidnapper to close the distance without risking targeted spells, or projectiles on his way.

    He thrust his hand forward, and the billowing black clouds rushed past his target in a torrent, compressing against the wall behind the woman. When the smoke cleared, the assailant had closed the distance. With a wave of his hand, he banished the smoke entirely, and threw a second little orb of black. This one stayed solid, even as it bounced off the wall behind the woman with a sturdy -thunk-. She was armored, he saw. Had she always been? It wasn't relevant. He needed to take care of her, and quickly before she raised an alarm.

    Wyt was closing fast, and he threw a push-kick at the woman's chest, aiming to knock her back into the table she'd just bounced off of. Simultaneously, he flexed his throwing hand again, and the little orb of darkness expanded into a blunt, circular ring of force that struck out parallel to the ground.
  7. The smoke started to bother her. She let out a cough, then two more. This isn't white magic. Is this an assassination? And how in the world did this thing get into Minnue?!?

    It was becoming hard to see, and Anya needed to move fast. She couldn't fire the signal off of here, the roof would get in the way. She needed to reach an open roofed room. The walkway was the closest. In the next moment the smoke was gone, and it left Anya confused more than anything, making her an easy target. She almost got hit by the attacker.

    Anya raised her hands once more, the tips of her fingers sending out blinding rays of white light, blinding the attacker. It gave her enough time to avoid the kick and slide under him. She quickly stood up and looked back, dust in her hair. When did he cast the blackness behind her? Hes fast. She needs to be faster. Anya's legs moved towards the walkway to the sky.
  8. Wyt felt the searing pain of the too-bright light, and it dazzled him for a moment. He couldn't quite connect with the kick, and nearly fell onto his face for his overcompensation, as the woman shot past him. He heard her more than he saw her, his vision returning slowly. Still half-blind, the man spun on his heel and bolted after the woman.

    She was fast. If he wanted to catch her before she made it outside, he was going to have to find a way to speed up. This was going to hurt.

    An arm flung behind the man, casting a little globe of darkness once again. This one exploded with considerably more force than the last two, and Wyt's feet cleared the ground as he jumped, the wave of dark force hurling him at his target's back at incredible speeds. If he missed her, he wouldn't be in much of any sort of shape to go on to carry her all the way out of the manor, and into the forest. Of course, if she made it to the door, he'd have bigger problems than escape.
  9. Shes faster. Shes going to get away. Shes going to fire the signal. She fell.

    Anya felt weight bring her down as the intruder jumped onto her. He was so much physically stronger and Anya found herself on the floor once more. She quickly rolled onto her back and straightened her arms, light orbs appearing from her palms. The orbs softly exploded, pushing Anya away from the man. But it wasn't a bright choice. Miscalculating, she hit her head against the cold marble wall. Her vision blurred and she felt weak. Her armor didn't include a helmet, and the one she was materializing until now disappeared too, leaving her once again in the silk kimono.

    Anya looked up. There was no roof, the blue sky and the green trees were looking down on her. She raised her hand to fire of a signal. Then everything went black, and her hand fell.
    The stupidest battle move of her life.
  10. Wyt felt hard contact as he barreled into the woman's back, only to be pushed across the floor away from her by some strange light magi. Frustration spiked in his chest, as the woman hit the door and tumbled through. She looked as if she were about to fire off some sort of signal. He was going to have to kill her. To find a new target, and hide the body. A pulsing orb of dark enveloped his hand, and he prepared to destroy the woman as her armor vanished.

    Only she went limp.

    The would-be kidnapper blinked. It hadn't been skill that had caught the woman. Not careful planning, or the execution of a perfectly orchestrated charade. It had been sheer dumb luck.

    It sat uneasy with the man, as he pushed himself to his feet, and walked to the woman's supine form. Yes. She was knocked out cold.

    Shaking his head, Wyt dropped to a knee by the woman's head, lifting it in a palm. He gently felt around her skull. It didn't feel soft, although there was a lump forming at the back. She might be concussed, but she'd heal. He hoped.

    Thumbing open her jaw, and uncorking his flask, he dribbled a few drops of the potion into the woman's mouth. With luck, it would suppress her powers for several days. If the potioneer had known what he was talking about, anyhow. He re-corked the flask, and bent to sling the woman unceremoniously over his shoulder. Rather than trying to precariously shamble down the wall with the woman over his shoulder, he left the house through a servant's entrance, and made for the wood. He had his prize. Now, for the ride home.


    The kidnapper had bound the woman, hand-and-foot with strips of her kimono. He'd then proceeded to tie the bound woman to a nearby tree, while he slept, near his horse. The beast would wake him if she started kicking up a fuss.

    He camped without a fire, to avoid observation, and stayed clear of the larger roads. A half-clad woman, bound and gagged, and thrown over a man's saddle drew too much attention by far. Better to steer clear of civilization 'til he could reconnoiter with his team.
  11. Anya's mouth instinctivly gulped down the liquid that was given to her. Something strange happened. It seemed like the soft light that was always surrounding her was gone. She frowned and mumbled in her sleep, feeling the change of her powers fading. Her blue eyes turned brown, their true color.

    She awoke a few hours later. It was deep night already. She swallowed, her throat being dry. A strange feeling was over her, something unnatural. It took her a few moments to realize her body was stiff and hard, and that she wasn't in her bed. Anya opened her eyes, slowly recalling what happened. Her breathing increased, some strands of her hair falling over her face. She seemed to be a mess. Her eyes were fanatically looking left and right, and she started wiggling. The rope was hurting her a bit, being tied too tight. The whole position was uncomfortable. With a turn of her head she stopped the man that took her, and his horse. But she didn't have a big interest in them. Not now. Calming down she became quiet. She needed to fire off a signal. Adjusting her arm she tried to collect a ray of light to shoot up into the skies. There it would burst like fireworks and people would know someone was in trouble. But the light didn't want to come. Trying a few more times, Anya started to panic. Tears began to form in her eyes as she kept trying, well knowing nothing would happen. It was like madness was coming over her as she sat there on the ground, wiggling like crazy and trying to call for help. She screamed.

    ''HEEELP! HEELP!'' Her voice was cracking from the lump in her throat, and she pushed her tears away. She was a general. Generals don't cry. In the end not one tear rolled down her cheeks. She took a fast, deep, breath to calm down before yelling once again. In all of her life, she never felt this helpless. And it was scaring her terribly.
  12. The kidnapper -sleeping some short distance from the bound woman- snatched his sword from the belt lying beside him, and rolled to his feet. Blade cleared sheath in a whisper, and the man cast about for the source of the commotion. The haze of sleep rapidly vanished from his mind, and his eyes scanned the surrounding forest. After determining that they weren't about to be set upon by any would-be heroes, the man re-sheathed his sword, and turned to his captive.

    He approached her raising a brow. He sank to his knees before the bound woman, out of easy reach from her longest limb. "You're welcome to scream yourself horse, Light One, but nobody will hear you, here." He said, although his voice didn't have any hostility to it. "You'll save yourself the exhaustion of it by staying quiet." He regarded the woman silently for a moment.

    "I'm not going to hurt you, as long as you don't give me cause to do so. And your chastity's safe." He paused. "But it might make the trip easier on you if you and I knew something of one another. I'll begin. My name's Triswyt. I'd offer you my hand, but the situation makes the usual pleasantries impossible. What is your name?"
  13. Anya's eyes followed the man. He took a knife. Was he going to hurt her? She immediately quieted down. Without her powers, she was helpless. And how far away from her home were they? She couldn't tell exactly.

    She pulled her bare feet more towards herself as he approached her, as she could shield herself better that way. With fear she watched him, leaning back when he crouched next to her. He was cool, relaxed. And it made her stop panicking, but she still kept her guard up, still leaning back.

    She took a moment when he stopped talking, staring at him. A puzzled look on her face. ''Wha...'' She swallowed. ''What trip?'' She asked quickly, not acknowledging any of his other words. ''And why can't I cast anything?!"
  14. Triswyt regarded the girl, re-sheathing his shortsword. "The trip we're on, of course. The one where we travel. Sometimes on horseback, sometimes on foot." He rolled his shoulder in an idle shrug. "The trip." He finished, as if it explained everything.

    He pushed himself to his feet, his eyes turning on the sky. The sun was still down, and the moon was the only light they had to see by. He liked the mooonlight. The way it made everything the same color, in varying shades. "As to why you can't cast your spells, well I've locked away your powers. I sealed them in an enchanted locket I wear around my neck, so you wouldn't make my head explode in my sleep. Or call everybody nearby to come end my miserable little life." Partly a lie, but he'd told her the truth of the important parts.

    "And speaking of sleep, you knocked your head pretty good back in the castle, and I'm dead tired. Like I said, you're welcome to keep screaming if you'd like, but I'm going to get some sleep. We've got an early morning, and I'm rather irritable when I don't get my eight hours."
  15. Anya gritted her teeth, showing anger. Him messing with her made her mad. ''I'm not going anywhere.'' She growled, mowing her arms again, trying to get out of the ropes. She was still trying to use her powers. A small whimper escaped her mouth. She knew all to well she was helpless in that matter.

    Her eyes widened in shock as Triswyt continued. What kind of advanced magic is this, when someone is able to lock away someone elses powers? Anya never heard of anything like it. Her eyes traveled towards his neck, where the locket was. Maybe if she could get a hold of it, her powers would return.

    She realized her eyes were probably brown now. In a second she looked away. Brown eyes were to be ashamed of among the people of Light. Especially for a general.

    There were three things she could do now. Scream for help and exhaust herself , as much as she hated it Triswyt was right about that, and give them both a sleepless night. Wait for her powers to return and then deal with this. Or get a hold of the locket and deal with this sooner.
    She decided. No sleep. Maybe in the morning he would be so exhausted she would be able to slip away, or get that locket. And people will surely come looking for her. Once when she doesn't attend to her duties in the morning.

    ''This is the biggest mistake you ever made.'' She growled once more, still looking to the side.

    It finally hit her what shes actually wearing, so she tried to adjust herself and the silk kimono. The idea was to cover herself as much as possible.
  16. "Not tonight, you're not." Agreed the kidnapper, unbuckling his sword belt once again, and meandering several feet farther away, before taking to the ground once again. Ideally, he'd be able to find her a decent set of clothes before long, but for now, the tattered kimono was going to have to do. He'd promised the safety of her chastity, but that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy looking.

    "I don't make mistakes, Light One." He said casually, his eyes sliding closed. "Now sleep. Unless you particularly enjoy riding all day without. I can manage of course, but it may turn out to be less pleasant than you imagine. Saddles are cold, and hard for the weary traveler. Come breakfast, I'll scrounge you some food."

    And just like that, the man fell silent, pulling from a belt-tin two clumps of wax. Into his ears they went, to dull the noise of the world so that he could sleep in peace. A risk perhaps, of leaving himself unaware, but one worth the rest. Especially if the girl was a screamer.
  17. Another growl was heard. Anya cursed those waxed things her kidnapper used. How to keep him up now? She tried for a few minutes to pick up a pebble with her feet, but gave up knowing she would soon run out of things to throw. She sighed in frustration, there is no way she will just sleep here and do nothing.

    It was quiet, and it seemed no other human was close to Anya and her captor. She wiggled her legs once more. There was no hope she was going to get comfortable like this. The girl went back to her original plan, throwing two pebbles at the resting male at once. She wanted him to allow her to get more comfortable.
    #17 Anowell, Jun 17, 2015
    Last edited by a moderator: Jun 17, 2015
  18. Wyt wasn't about to let his captive deprive him of much-needed rest. After the first four tossed pebbles, he pushed himself up from the ground, and walked around to the far side of the tree, to settle down with the trunk between himself and the woman. "Good night," He said, his voice muffled to his own ears.


    Wyt didn't sleep as well as he might've liked through the night. Cold, hard ground was seldom the making for a restful night. He gathered some woodfall for a small fire however, and took out his earplugs. He crouched over the fire, cooking what appeared to be a pair of hares, skinned and skewered as they were over the open flames.

    His eyes occasionally flicked to the Light One, perplexed. She was lovely. Angry, but lovely. And scantly clad. He was going to have to get her some new clothing. For the time being, he could throw his cloak over her, and keep the hood forward. It might work.

    He stuck the rabbit-skewers into the soft earth, and rose to nudge the woman's foot with his own booted foot. "C'mon, wake up. Food time. We've got a long day ahead of us."
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