Tarnished Lands (king_arthur & espoir)

[junebug]

Lillian Gauthier

Everyone sees what you appear to be,
few feel what you are.
- Niccolo Machiavelli

If there was anything worse than high school prom, it was getting dumped by your boyfriend on the eve of your birthday at a gala for charity work. 'There's no use crying over spilled milk,' her mother often said. Now, as an adult, it was more like, there's no use crying over spilled champagne. Lillian's heels clacked against the sidewalk in monotonous rhythms, her feet sore from walking so fast, and her eyes dry and red from crying. Mascara and eyeliner popped out like she had clown makeup on and her skirt laid against her skin like glue.

It was dark outside; the moon barely showed through the foggy atmosphere. Lillian's foot splashed into a puddle and she groaned. What had been so unforgivable that her boyfriend had suddenly decided they were done? She rubbed her eyes and walked down the sidewalk, the little hairs on her arms raised as she took a seat at the bus stop. She sank into the wet bench, too numb to care that dirt and dust was rubbing against the bottom of her floral print skirt and the back of her shirt. She sniffed and took a deep, shaky breath.

That bitch was going to pay for what she did.

Natalie ruined her relationship with Tyler and Lillian couldn't do anything about it. Tyler dropped her for some skank with black hair and a curvy body, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. Natalie probably had a bigger cup size too. She wanted to scream at the world, scream at God, but the foreboding silence of being the only individual at the bus stop and the rain banging constantly against the small structure was all she could find comfort in. She clenched her fists, nails digging into her skin until she let go and threw her hands up in the air.

"I knew I should've listened to Danica. 'That man is no good for you'. Jesus, what the hell is wrong with me?"

Hands rested on her forehead as she contemplated the severity of her problem; She had no one to take her home now, she was drenched to the bone, and she felt hopeless and angry. Lillian's light brown curls were flat and her hair was slightly frizzy. Everything was a complete and utter disaster. She took a glance at her phone; 11:37 at night. She sat back and waited for the bus. There was no way she was calling her parents to make them drive an hour to Laurel Heights just to pick her up and hear her stupid sob story.

Lillian waited; The thunder roared in her ears and gradually, the wind began to pick up. She checked her phone. Five minutes until the bus was supposed to be here, but no headlights in sight. A 1970 Volvo wagon passed by. Her right leg began to move restlessly. What was taking the bus so long? Had she misread the information on the sign? She leaned forward and looked both ways. Her hand moved to grasp the edge of the bench when a strange chill passed through her arm where her rose-shaped birthmark was.

A pale hand squeezed her arm and Lillian screamed and almost jumped up immediately. Finely manicured nails dug into her skin and she glanced up, a woman with white hair and smooth skin coming into her vision. She screamed again and tried to tug her arm away. In the blink of an eye, the woman was gone and storm picked up speed. Lillian's chest felt like something was squeezing all the air out of her lungs as she struggled to catch her breath. Her hair brushed against her face, getting into her mouth.

"What the hell is going on?"

She turned around and watched as a stop sign soared out of the ground and smashed into the window of a nearby car. The car began to beep ceaselessly. Lillian panicked and glanced around for shelter. How fast could she get to the nearest gas station? All the stores nearby were closed. The rain hit her like a thousand bullets pelting into her skin and she dove for cover immediately when a flash of light struck a tree branch nearby and the tree branch flew straight into the glass on the side of the bus stop.

The glass shattered and left multiple nicks and cuts on her leg. She winced and cowered in the other corner, an effort to stay safe. "What the hell Mother Nature?" she yelled at the dark clouds swirling in the sky. "You're giving me shit for running away? Well I hate you too!" A flash of lightning near the outside of the bus stop, a clap of thunder that rang in her ears, and another flash of light. It all happened so fast that when Lillian finally managed to awake from her unconscious state, she was blinded by light.

Her eyes fluttered open and she groaned, head rocking from side to side, trying to get her hair out of her mouth. She slowly sat up. The back of her head throbbed with pain and her leg muscles ached all over. Once she became somewhat alert, Lillian felt the dirt beneath her; dirt and long blades of grass. Lillian tried to shake off the confusion. Trees too... A canopy? She lifted her hand up to block the sunlight and turned her head away when the end of a silver object suddenly touched underneath her chin. "Woah, what the hell?"

"It speaks, haha!"

Lillian's head bobbed a little as she eyed the silver object, eyebrows furrowed. Where had she seen this before? Wait, a sword? She opened her mouth to say something clever, but nothing intelligent came out. "Hey, uh, sir..." She trailed off and tried to back away, but the sword followed like a hawk. She chuckled nervously and tried to stand up, but the sword kept her grounded where she was. Lillian reached up to pull a tangled strand of hair behind her ear and cleared her throat. What an awkward first meeting.

"This is a really pointy object you're aiming at my throat right now and that's pretty dangerous weapon. You could stab my carotid artery and I could bleed out and die basically. Learned that in Medieval history class so, if you could just quit with the hostilities and tell me where I am, that'd be much appreciated."

 

[king_arthur]

Anthiot Godfrey had just finished gearing up to go out on morning patrol, as he had been doing a lot lately. To him, putting on his heavy armor was a soothing task. It was a constant; he did it nearly every day, regardless of whether he did patrols or not. The weight of the cold metal was almost like a blanket at this point. A little sappy, he was sure, but no one went through as much as he had without at least getting used to the feel of nearly living in combat gear.

The ginger left his modest bedroom, shutting the door soundlessly behind him as he made his way down the corridor to ascend the stairs leading into the main chambers of Fort Trinity. The sound of his greaves against the metal flooring was a familiar one. Everything about the Pact headquarters could nearly be considered comfortable. It had been two years since Tyria had last seen a lick of trouble, and since then, carrying out his daily duties had been a breeze. Anthiot would be lying if he didn't say he felt things were too relaxed, but regardless, he still thanked Kormir every day for keeping trouble out of their midsts.

A few of the soldiers greeted the Commander on his way to the gates, and he waved politely, in turn, giving them a smile or a nod of his head. At the entrance, he spotted his two patrol mates, Vigil Warmasters Dirsmad and Mabli. Since taking on his current title, Anthiot technically was not part of any one order… though, if he was being honest, he did tend to gravitate towards individuals that were a part of his old order. It wasn't necessarily that he enjoyed their company more, or at least he didn't think that was the reason, rather, it was simply him falling into old habits.

The two sylvari that stood in front of their commander were an interesting pair of individuals. The race, in general, was not usually known for subscribing to the combative tactics of the Vigil. Despite this, Anthiot knew all too well that the Vigil was the perfect fit for the pair. They were both a little scary, in their own way. Mabli, a tiny girl, was also a mighty warrior, one who enjoyed the thrill of battle. Or perhaps, in her case, she simply enjoyed the thrill of seriously maiming. She and the Commander had somewhat of a… complicated history. He couldn't say she was his favorite person in the world, or that she could even be considered a friend, but he did have to admire her technique and passion. Dirsmad, a lean fellow with spiky hair, was a Necromancer. Being a sylvari in the was odd enough as it was, but being a sylvari mage in the Vigil was on an entirely different level of unheard of. Considering the way he enjoyed tearing into battle with his many undead minions though, there was little question in regards to his position within the Vigil.

"Have you prepared yourselves for this morning's patrol?" Anthiot asked, eyes flitting back and forth between them, making sure their armor was in top shape. Even if half of it was made of organic materials, he still knew what to look for.

"Yes, Commander, and if we are lucky, perhaps we shall spot a wild Jaguar and be allowed kill it in the name of self-defense," Mabli retorted sarcastically, looking up at him with her pale-colored eyes as if to goad him into making a comeback. Of course, though, he didn't, and simply gave her a look of discontent before they were on their way.

There was no village or town surrounding Fort Trinity. In fact, there wasn't much of any civilization for quite a far distance in any direction. The purpose of this was to avoid innocent people from being hurt had the headquarters been attacked, but at this time, an attack was much less likely. Since then, many Pact offices were built around Tyria, but the fort continued to be the heart of it all. The objective of Anthiot's patrol was to circle the perimeter of the large metal structure until noon, the time at which the next soldiers on patrol would take over. A seemingly boring task, but it was important to keep one's security sharp; this couldn't happen without the watchful eye of those on patrol.

Unsurprisingly to the lot of them, most of the morning passed by without so much as a minor incident. Not even a run in with a wild beast as Mabli had hoped for. The part that actually was surprising was that the uneventfulness of the early day did not last, and as Anthiot and his group made their way back around to the front gate, they witnessed something they had to look twice at to believe was real.

Weapons drawn, the three approached the figure that had unceremoniously landed in the grass just beyond Fort Trinity's walls. While teleporting was not uncommon in their current area, it didn't seem as if the individual had done it consciously. Upon closer inspection, this person was human, female, drenched, and wearing clothes like Anthiot had never seen. She appeared disorientated, though Dirsmad, ever the gentleman, hooked the tip of his sword under her chin. The cold metal seemed to bring her to rather quick.

The Commander's eyes narrowed as she spoke, focusing in on her like a hawk. He was tempted to glare at the sylvari beside him for his snarky comment, but thought better of it. He couldn't take his eyes off the face he very clearly recognized. Only one name rung through his mind, and the moment it did, his heart dropped to the pit of his stomach. Hadassah.

"I believe the possibility of you bleeding out is exactly the point of his threat," Mabli spoke up, eyes transfixed on the vision of Hadassah. The look in them was wild, perhaps even seemingly gleeful at the excitement of their new visitor, but a quick glance her way from Anthiot told him that she was feeling it too. The fear and dread returning from their nightmare that was two years laid to rest.

"We must bring her to Marshall Trahearne at once," he ordered, his voice flat, not betraying his true emotions. His eyes shifted from their new captive to Dirsmad, to Mabli, and back again, that being enough of a signal that they knew what to do. Carefully removing the tip of his blade, Dirsmad, along with his Vigil companion, made to hoist Hadassah upright by grabbing underneath her arms and then returning the blade under her chin. Before he turned to take the lead, Anthiot pinned the girl with his icy green eyes.

"You, Hadassah, are under arrest for crimes committed against Tyria," he said, his voice no longer flat. It was firm and full of power, a voice he did not often use unless it was necessary. In a situation such as this, he deemed it very necessary.

 

[junebug]

Lillian Gauthier

Everyone sees what you appear to be,
few feel what you are.
- Niccolo Machiavelli

She felt two hands- one large, the other small force her off the ground and the searing crack at the back of her head became prominent once more. She smiled in an attempt to make friends with these strangers, though none seemed too interested. "You know, I'm not sure what's more scary. Being objectified by a green, leafy thing that looks like a salad and speaks or being arrested for something I haven't done," Lillian exclaimed as another awkward chuckle escaped her lips. "Who's Hadassah?"

Dirsmad tugged on Lillian's arms as the quartet moved along towards the entrance of Fort Trinity. Hadassah was surprisingly compliant for someone who seemed confused. He knew it was an act. "Don't be an idiot, Hadassah. We know who you are." Lillian snorted at salad guy. His dry humor could make up for how green he was. "I'm not an idiot. My name is Lillian and my friends call me Lily. Is anyone going to tell me what's going on?" Dirsmad rolled his eyes and tugged on her arm a little harder.

"Your punishment will be dealt with by Marshal Trahearne."

"Punishment? What?"

A large metal structure with a glowing blue orb came into view. The sun gradually disappeared behind the clouds and Lillian could see somewhat better. It was really comforting to not have the sun straining her eyes, but less comforting that some random strangers decided it'd be a good idea to pull her along the ground to wherever they were going while she was disoriented and in pain. "Listen, I really need to lay down somewhere, please," she begged.

"You'll be lying in your grave when you're dead."

"What the fuck?" Dirsmad said no more and Lillian was exasperated. "I have a major headache right now salad guy and I don't know if that means it's just a bad headache or if it's something more serious, like an acute concussion. Ever heard of that before?" The crew entered Fort Trinity and almost immediately, Lillian felt a strange drop in the atmosphere. A few people with garb on, others with armor, all stopped what they were doing and stared at her, stared at an evil woman known as Hadassah.

"Okay, why is everyone staring at me? Clearly, the only person who should be staring is me because frankly, I look like crap and you're all the weird ones. My top and my skirt are horrendous right now. Then, my hair. Oh, don't even get me started on the hair-"

"Will you just shut up?"

She cringed and rolled her eyes. "Okay, fine fine," she pouted and tugged on her arm slightly in hopes of making salad guy's iron grip a little looser. "You're hurting my arm." Dirsmad tightened his grip and Lillian winced, confident that his green fingers were going to leave a stain on her long sleeves and the lightly tanned skin beneath. Now, this other thing, whatever it was, she assumed it was a girl but her skin was all pinkish purplish. Did she paint her skin or dye it? Lillian had to know.

The party of four arrived at a large tent; it was a boring gray color and two guards stood outside. The moment they saw Hadassah from a distance, they immediately rushed inside to tell Marshal Trahearne of the glorious, yet dreadful news. She bit her lip and tried to roll along with the program. Lillian would, however, profess her innocence in the situation and perhaps, continue to be lighthearted about it. It was important to stay optimistic in this situation, even if she felt doomed.

Her eyes began to tear up and the edge of her forehead begin to itch. She sighed, irritated, but her hopes raised a little when she heard a clear, deep timbre travel through the tent skin and reach the small group outside. "Bring them to me." The Sylvari Guards allowed the commander, Mabli, and Dirsmad entrance, and hesitantly, Hadassah. Marshal Trahearne glanced up from the map on the table to greet the four, but his eyes locked down on Hadassah quickly. She'd made a terrible mistake coming here.

"Wait a second. So, this guy, another salad guy... is captain of this whole establishment?" She shook her head and tried to wrap her mind around everything. It was slightly overwhelming. "Oh my god, I've gotta be hallucinating. I'm going mad, aren't I? This is just a dream, right? You're all just some creepy voodoo people my brain decided to imagine." Lillian took a deep breath and tried to slow down her heart. Why did the manifest content of her dreams always seem so real? It was hair-raising, especially this particular dream.

"Uh, Sigmund Freud was right. I should eat more salad and look for another guy."

Trahearne raised a brow at Hadassah's strange vocabulary and glanced at his men, his facial expression curious and suspicious, yet demanding of an explanation. What was this... garb she wore and why did she speak in a foreign tongue? Hadassah had certainly changed over the years. Trahearne observed his early morning patrol group. "My friends. You've come a long way." His eyes flickered to Hadassah. "Hadassah, we've been eagerly awaiting your return."

 

[king_arthur]

Anthiot could not comprehend his ears. This vile woman was seriously attempting to plead her case. Doing so by first pretending as though she hadn't a clue of her situation and then by insulting the lot of them. He chose to remain silent though, fearful he might lose his temper, something he did not often do. Besides, it seemed Hadassah would continue to spout nonsense whether they engaged with her or not, that much was clear to him.

It took the Commander's eyes a moment to adjust to the much more dim lighting once the group entered the tent. Looking around once able to see more clearly, he saw the Marshal Trahearne and Krewe Director Lohxx, a well-known asura around the Pact for leading a redevelopment team, sitting in front of a table while inspecting a map. Anthiot saluted his superior once he looked up at them, and Trahearne nodded in response.

"Oh my," the phrase seemingly slipped out of the director's mouth, though it went unnoticed by most, as they were too transfixed on the intruder.

"I recommend that you mind your tongue or us 'salads' will show you just how capable we are at taking down a filthy mammal," Mabli seethed with anger. She was usually never so serious, but she was very much capable when someone insulted the sylvari. The only thing Anthiot could think to describe her as in that moment was "sylvari supremacist," but that was really only because she was one. It wasn't exactly a secret.

"Mabli," Anthiot said, his tone a warning to her. It would do them no good to become flustered in the face of adversities. The short sylvari woman kept quiet after that, but her dark purple lips still formed a pout at being reprimanded. That sort of thing did not work on the Commander here.

"Please explain to me the situation, Commander," Trahearne said, eyes shifting to his second in command. Anthiot did so, giving a brief overview of the events of the past ten minutes or so. He mentioned some of the things the intruder had babbled, but decided to exclude the unnecessary bits of the exchange between her and Dirsmad, namely, her nonsense. The sylvari Marshal nodded his head, his yellow gaze now settling on Hadassah, a mix of accusation and curiosity swam in his eyes.

"You are a near perfect vision of Tyria's mortal enemy, Hadassah, and you have appeared suddenly, under suspicious circumstances. Despite this, you claim you are innocent. Anthiot," he called his second's name, though without turning to look at him, "you believe she is Hadassah, yes?"

"I see no other explanation," Anthiot answered honestly.

"But you... you disagree," Trahearne stated this, rather than phrase it like a question, now addressing their intruder once again. It was clear to the Commander that there was a potential for Trahearne to be considering the lies the woman who must be Hadassah was spewing. "What do you call yourself?"

 

[junebug]

Lillian Gauthier

Everyone sees what you appear to be,
few feel what you are.
- Niccolo Machiavelli

She took a deep breath as the Marshal Trahearne addressed her; yes, she disagreed because she knew she wasn't Hadassah or a mortal enemy to anyone. "My name is Lillian Marie Gauthier, I'm twenty six years old, and I'm a linguist who just finished up her master's degree in linguistics. I live in Laurel Heights, Minnesota in the United States and I don't have any clue where I am." She bit her tongue to keep herself from divulging any more information; she doubted this crew of militaristic type species weren't interested in hearing about her uneventful Saturday evening.

It was hard to keep her tongue tied in an unfortunate event. No one listened to her when she chattered about who she was and no one cared enough to consider her constant inquiry about where she was. Lillian glanced around at the few soldiers- probably ones that were high in rank- awaiting a verdict from the person in front of her, whatever he was. Her chest tightened. "What do I have to do to prove to you that I'm not Hadassah? I've got a phone. I can call my Mom."

Desperation was etched into her face as she touched her body in an effort to look for the 'phone' she spoke of. "Shit," she muttered. Trahearne felt the edge of his lips curl in amusement but said nothing. "Well, I mean, it was on me until the storm hit. It's probably still in the area where I woke up at and found myself lying on the ground, disoriented and exhausted. My head hurts and I really don't feel good. Just give me directions back to Minnesota and I'll be on the next bus."

"Bus? What is this 'bus' you speak of? We have no 'bus' here."

"Um, it's a vehicle. It transports vehicles, I mean people. It transports people, with the exception of bikes."

She fiddled with her fingers as the green creature observed her. Her cheeks warmed and she felt her leg begin to grow restless again. The silence was more than she could bear. "Let me go! Let me go!" Lillian tried to rip herself out of their grips and fell to her knees in front of Trahearne. "Please, sir! I- I'll be out of here tomorrow. Just please, oh my god." Her voice rose out of frustration. "I- I my head hurts, I have a serious blinding headache right now but it's probably a migraine."

Lillian lurched forward and clenched her stomach. She didn't feel too great right now either. "My head hurts and I think I'm gonna-" Her hand flew to her mouth, but it was too late. Vomit spurted out onto the Marshal's boots and Lillian groaned in pain. "I feel sick to my stomach." Marshal Trahearne's smile was awkward. "Mabli, take this girl to the infirmary and find her some decent clothes to wear. Dirsmad, I'm going to need a new pair of boots. Please, both of you."

"What? That- that's it? You're not putting her to death?"

Dirsmad was shocked with the Marshal's decision to help Hadassah- a complete criminal, evil in every way known to Mother Tyria. He wouldn't accept it. "This woman- Hadassah- means ill fate for us all. Are you willing to take that risk, sir?"

Lillian's eyes rolled to the back of her head. The Marshal opened his mouth to speak, but the captive began to speak once more and he held his words. He raised a hand to silence his comrades.

"Oh, please," she mumbled, speech incoherent and slurred. "I just wanna go home."

That was the last thing Lillian said before she fell unconscious.

The Marshal glanced at everyone and spoke his final verdict, "I'm giving her my word, a chance to prove herself. She won't be imprisoned. Commander," He turned his attention to Anthiot. "See to it that she's guarded at all times. Are we clear?"

 

[king_arthur]

Hadassah's words were a poor excuse for an explanation. Anthiot watched her silently as threw out names of things he had ever heard of. To him, it sounded like gibberish, and honestly, that was probably all it was as well. He did not stop her though, as he knew if Trahearne had enough he would tell her to cease. But of course, he doubted that would happen, if he knew anything of the former scholar.

The Commander's muscles tensed as the girl dropped to her knees. He couldn't tell if it was to beg or be sick, though it seemed to him that it was both as she emptied the contents of her stomach on to the floor in front of them. Anthiot had to resist the urge to take a step back from the splatter. A mildly horrified look made its way onto his features; he didn't know what to do in this situation. Luckily though, Trahearne knew exactly what to do and calmly gave orders to everyone, even with the sick on his boots. The ginger man supposed that was the reason he was Marshal, even if the sylvari had been hesitant to accept the position in the beginning.

"Of course, sir." Anthiot responded to his leader's request with a short nod. "I will see to it to find a very capable individual to handle her. Perhaps the Guardian Dnam would be a-"

"I believe you misunderstand me, Commander," Trahearne spoke, interrupting his second in command. "I wish for you to be the one who watches over her. You are the one with whom I have the utmost trust." Anthiot had to fight with himself for a moment to keep the surprise off of his face. This… he had not expected. Not being one to question orders though, he straightened up, accepting his fate.

"Yes, sir. It will be done."

"Excellent. Be sure to report to me with any necessary updates," the Marshal said, and the Commander nodded once more. After they were all dismissed, Mabli turned to Anthiot.

"Help me with the corpse, will you? I have not a chance of being able to carry her," the pink girl said, crossing her arms and looking up at him pleadingly. Although he knew that her words were merely a ruse, he relented anyway.

"Alright, fine. I will grab her ankles and-" but yet again, the Commander was cut off as Mabli grinned her thanks and walked out ahead of him, leaving Anthiot to pick up Hadassah on his own. It wasn't that he would have an issue with it, it was just that attempting to work with the Vigil Warmaster was quite infuriating sometimes. He gingerly picked up the girl, regardless, but made it a point to stay clear of her vomit.

When Anthiot left the tent, he thought he would see Mabli standing there waiting for him. He didn't know why he expected her to uphold Trahearne's orders, he really didn't. He knew he shouldn't put any faith in her whatsoever at this point, honestly. Though, because there was nothing he could do about it at this point and someone needed to complete her task, he begrudgingly did so, making his way to the healers.

Once to the infirmary, Anthiot set Hadassah down on an empty bed, and there were plenty to choose from considering there had very little conflict as of late. But that was all about to change, wasn't it? He pushed the dark thoughts from his mind as he sought out the nearest medic. It was an asuran woman that he had spoken to before, he had worked beside her husband before he had been lost in the line of battle quite a few years prior.

"Excuse me, Ceera," he said, recalling her name. When her husband had died, she had blamed Anthiot, and as his superior, it was rightfully placed. If she thought of that time now though, she let no trace of it show on her face as she turned to look up at him. Her head was craned far back to meet his eyes, considering their extreme height difference. "I have a patient for you, one whose situation is… rather delicate." He said, stepping aside to allow her to reach Hadassah's bed. The woman made her way to the girl's side before gasping at the sight.

"Commander, tell me that is not-"

"The truth remains to be seen as to her identity. Regardless, she appears to be ill, having thrown up in Trahearne's presence. His orders have lead us here. If there is something wrong with her, I ask that you mend her, and if it is not too much trouble, to find her some better attire. I would do it myself but I have been instructed to remain at her side," Anthiot explained, and Ceera nodded dutifully.

"That is wise of you not to leave her. I will do as you ask," the medic replied, going to work on the girl and inspecting her to see what was the issue.

 

[junebug]

Lillian Gauthier

Everyone sees what you appear to be,
few feel what you are.
- Niccolo Machiavelli

It seemed that life had gradually slipped out of Lillian's grasp the moment she landed in Tyria and was immediately accused of crimes committed by a woman she had no relation to. Her head nodded from side to side every so often, drifting in and out of consciousness. Two of the same persons stood over her; one with ginger hair, the other a blur. Something wet was on her forehead and something pale and foreign moved constantly. "Why is it so bright?" she mumbled. "Where am I?"

"Hadassah speaks."

The voice was indifferent, yet calm in the situation. Lillian felt her eyes begin to tear up. Was she dead? Who was Hadassah? Her cheeks flushed and she tried to clench her fists, but her body, her fingers; she felt numb.

"Where am I?"

"Not anywhere you should be."

"Damn it," Lillian rasped and tried to catch her breath. "What the hell's wrong with you? Why can't anyone tell me what's going on?"

Lillian pushed herself up and felt a wave of vertigo and sharp pain in the back of her head wash over. "You need rest." She felt a small pair of hands rest on her shoulders and gently force her back down and her vision began to clear up, were it not for the constant blur of silent tears. "What happened? Why am I crying? What is this place?" Lillian stared up at the ceiling- some kind of fabric- and shifted around in the bed beneath her; It wasn't comfortable on her shoulder blades, neck, or back.

"You're suffering from a mild concussion. Nausea, dizziness, confusion, vomiting... Signs. And of course, the temporary loss of consciousness. Do you remember what happened before you were brought here?"

"No, I don't- What are you?" Her voice rose in disgust.

"No one to be trifle with. You need rest." The asura Lillian addressed indirectly grabbed a dry cloth and dipped it in a wide ceramic bowl nearby. "Um, is that water? I need water. I'm thirsty, I'm sorry. I- I'm just-."

Ceera silenced her.

Lillian gulped, her heart pounding in her chest as the strange creature placed a damp cloth on her forehead again. "I don't understand. Why are you treating me?" Ceera grabbed a pitcher with a top nearby and a ceramic cup. She poured the water into the cup and offered it to the woman she speculated to be the wretched engineer. "Marshal Trahearne wishes me to do so. Hadassah, why have you come here? Why do you not struggle against your bonds?"

She grimaced, tired of everyone calling her what she wasn't, exhausted of being called a liar. Lillian closed her eyes, tears forming again, probably to try and wash out the dust and dirt. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you, so go away. You've done enough." She gently took the cup and drank the water all at once, though slowly. The silence was painful; hours seemed to pass by before Lillian felt like she was making any improvement.

The young woman had asked her doctor, Ceera, as she'd learned, multiple times when she would be back to normal; slowly, she began to remember small fragments of what'd happened and was able to sit up. Lillian, drenched and lying near the entrance of a forest close to this place they called Fort Trinity. "I still don't know what you are or why I'm here," Lillian's voice was void of emotion. "When can I return home to Minnesota? I wanna drink or smoke or something."

"I'm afraid this is your new home, at least for a while."

"What?"

"Yes, until Marshal Trahearne ultimately decides what to do, you will be under watch of that man over there." She nodded her head towards a man Lillian had almost forgotten was standing there, quite possibly the whole time. "Oh, so he's gonna keep an eye on me the whole time? The whole time?" Her tone rose in irritation. "You know, you guys are so fucking generous, I don't even know why I bother acting like I care if he's gonna be there when I get undressed."

"Child," Ceera exclaimed in a stern tone. "Our commander is a gentleman. He'll leave you to your privacy, of course."

"And when I'm sleeping?"

Ceera glanced at Anthiot and gave him an amused, yet apologetic smile. It was a sign she would no longer stick up for him or be a part of this conversation; that Hadassah, although Ceera was her doctor, she was still his responsibility and he ought to own up to it. Lillian stared down at herself, still in all of her drenched glory and black two piece gala outfit. It was depressing and horrid; terrifying, even. She wasn't supposed to feel empty or hopeless. She was supposed to feel like Lillian.

Lillian got through everything with a smile on her face and a positive attitude.

But she wasn't that girl. She wasn't Lillian. She was just a nobody people called Hadassah.

Afterall, what if this was just some stalling the commander had to do while Trahearne prepared the most torturous device he had to rip her to shreds so she could never see her family again? It sounded legit.

"You know, this wasn't supposed to happen. Lillian wasn't supposed to fall out of the sky and wake up with a concussion in some unknown land. That's just not how things work where I'm from."

 

[king_arthur]

Anthiot watched the exchange between the medic and captive silently, standing out of the way of Ceera's work, and arms crossed. He wasn't sure if the asura should be asking the amount of questions that she was, but since he had no direct orders to stop any speculations, he chose to restrain any grievances he had about them. He only spoke up when he was involved in the conversation, though he did so begrudgingly.

"I will not be leaving you alone. If you truly are who you say you are, then you do not understand the gravity of our situation and need to accept that it is so. If you are not, and you are Hadassah, then you are perfectly aware of why I would need to be vigilant around you at all times," he replied, not directly answering the question that had been asked of him. As far as sleeping arrangements went, he did not yet know what he intended to do, but he knew he could not leave the girl alone at night like she was clearly requesting.

"If it is any consolation to you, we too wish that you had not come here," Anthiot said, responding to her last statement, though his tone was unwelcoming, cold, and harsh. "Ceera, might I ask you for more appropriate clothes for her now?" The Commander turned, his face softening when looking at the asura. The woman nodded, leaving to go fetch much more appropriate attire. Anthiot thought it best for the girl to not stand out, considering her reputation. As it was, many people within the walls of Fort Trinity would not immediately recognize her, considering many of them had not fought her in close proximity. Though, if enough attention was brought to her, he was sure it wouldn't take long for rumors to spread.

Ceera came back a short time later, a proportionately large bundle in her arms. She laid the folded clothes on the empty night stand beside the bed. It looked to Anthiot that there was fairly standard garb among the pile, and he nodded, satisfied. The asura then stepped back to face the two of them. "I think you are fine, girl. You should be okay to leave but if you feel dizzy or nauseous again then make sure you lay down. To change, you can just pull the curtain around the bed," Ceera instructed, tugging on the curtain a little as if to bring it to their attention, before turning to go off and do something else.

"If you are feeling fine I recommend you change so we can leave. I still have my regular duties to attend to," Anthiot told her, motioning to the pile of clothes with a tilt of his head.

 

[junebug]

Lillian Gauthier

Everyone sees what you appear to be,
few feel what you are.
- Niccolo Machiavelli

Lillian's opinion of the commander continued to sour. He was terrible; rude and pessimistic, overly paranoid. Who thought such an unfriendly man was fit to lead thousands of people? He was anything but. Lillian huffed and grabbed the clothing Ceera had presented to her. "Is there a box where I can file a complaint? You are far from helpful and you're definitely not commander material," she mocked. "Also, is there a place where I can shower? I smell like crap and I'm not stepping into these clean clothes until I take a shower."

Despite this high ranking person being taller and intimidating in nature, Lillian wasn't opposed to putting on her own gauntlets and getting some well-deserved respect around this camp. If this commander expected her to be obedient in light of not understanding anything, he was sorely mistaken. Lillian was frustrated because she didn't even know this man's name or what the salad people actually were. Trahearne was terrible in leadership as well; she was a prisoner regardless of whether or not she was in a cell.

Lillian left the tent and followed Anthiot with her clean clothes in hand. "Where are we going? What do you around here? What's your name, provided you aren't offended with that simple question, so much as you are my presence." She brushed off a piece of fuzz from her shoulder and trotted ahead, deliberately brushing off anything the commander had to say about her, instead of him or preferably, this person they kept referring to her as Hadassah. Lillian knew she had no business here, but they seemed intent on making this place her business and she seemed to have no problem with being the center of attention, but it had to be done the right way.

Lillian was taken past a bladesmith pounding on a piece of metal, a tent full of raucous laughter- she could only assume that's where drinks were shared and card games were played, and another tent where not much appeared to be happening. The glares of everyone, if not most creatures and people in the encampment, were more amusing than intimidating; it was a bother if Marshal Trahearne wasn't listening to his fellow comrades. She knew how people with hatred operated; she was one of them herself, with a rabid need to get out of this camp and settle the score with Natalie once and for all.

Lillian sighed at the passing silence and addressed the man once more, "You know, if you guys are going to parade me around like some stupid amateur, might as well let me die in a cell so you don't have to do your leader's dirty work."

"Now that, is an excellent suggestion," A dirty red-haired man with dark circles came out of what looked to be the training pits, with a broadsword resting at his hip and a drink in hand. He took a sip, lips curled slightly at one end.

"See? Even he agrees!"

"This is the little lady everyone's talking about, yeah? Hadassah?" Kael took another swig.

"I'm not Hadassah and I'm not a little lady. I'm twenty six years old and you stink."

 

[king_arthur]

Anthiot ignored most of the girls whining, a lot of it seeming to him as though she was just speaking to hear her own voice. Finally, in an attempt to get her to cease her complaints, he answered one of her questions, though he didn't know half of what she was talking about.

"I do not know what you mean by a shower, but if you are looking to bathe, you will have to wait until the end of the day," he told her as he lead her to the training grounds. "We are going to the training grounds," he answered as she asked more questions, these that were much easier to understand as she didn't use made up words in an attempt to confuse him. "I am the second in command here and I am called Anthiot." He chose not to indulge her in responding to her quip about how her presence bothers him.

He did not understand it. Even if she was not the wretched Hadassah, could she not see what a disturbance her presence was to everyone around her? Or perhaps, that was the entire reasoning behind her unbearable attitude. Anthiot brushed it off as best he could, trying to not let it bother him, as it would do no good in the moment. The Commander stopped as Kael came up to them, his face hardening as he began doing what Anthiot could only describe as toying with the girl. He ignored the exchange, stating his own piece.

"If you would not mind, I ask that you do not discuss Miss Lillian's situation with others. Marshall Trahearne and I have the situation under control and wish not for fear-striking rumors to be spread," He said her name, pointedly, making his point clear. "Now if you would excuse us, I have duties to attend to," he turned his attention to the girl, motioning her to come with him. "Let us be going," he told her. That particular day, he had planned to train with warriors from the Priory, as many of them did not get formal combat training within their order.

The Commander made his way to the Priory training tent, the flaps having been pulled back far. Inside, where a small group of individuals in the traditional blue garb that Priory members usually wore. "Ladies, gentlemen, everyone, it is good to see you all here," Anthiot greeted them, a warm smile on his face. "Today we will be training with axes, so I recommend you all grab one and go on the grounds. I will be with you in a moment." The group did as they were told, talking amongst themselves as they did so and exiting the tent.

"I am going to ask you to sit here and watch. This is an opportunity to build trust for you. If you would do your best to try not to flee, that would be most beneficial to yourself," Anthiot told the girl. He walked over to a nearby bench and took off his gauntlet before lightly placing his hand on the wooden seating. With some concentration, a red light ran down his arm, glowing so hot it could be seen even through his armor. The same light flashed in his eyes for just a moment as he enchanted the bench. Warriors had very little magic. In fact, they had the least amount of magic of anyone in Tyria, but that did not mean they had none.

"I ask now that you sit on this bench. All I have done to it is enchanted it so that I know at all times who is sitting on it and who is not. Trust must be earned, and as you have not yet done so, you must prove it to me. If you chose to run, I would know in an instant," the Commander said, his tone becoming even more serious as he spoke the last words.

 

[junebug]

Lillian Gauthier

Everyone sees what you appear to be,
few feel what you are.
- Niccolo Machiavelli

Lillian had felt a smirk crawl on her face for a brief moment as Anthiot spoke of her real name and not the enemy's name. That would teach this person. She straightened her act the moment he turned back to her and beckoned her along. Lillian had followed diligently, a feeling of smug satisfaction swarming through her veins. Her arrogance, however, dissipated the moment she was given a chance to build trust with him. Lillian rolled her eyes and dismissed his worries, "I won't run away. I'm not that stupid."

She sat down on the bench and took a deep breath. Everything was fairly organized, if not littered with piles upon piles of worn out books, jewelry, and strange looking objects, some glowing, others plain. The blue clothing that everyone wore in the tent seemed indicative of a clique; Lillian wondered what exactly it was this group of people did. They seemed more scared of her, than welcoming, and it frustrated her as they followed Anthiot's orders immediately and barely spared a glance her way.

One women in particular stood out to her; a dark-skinned female with an intricate tattoo on her neck and a slim build. She looked to be the group's leader, fierce and terribly intimidating, especially when she shot a pensive glare Lillian's way. The familiar woman on the bench flinched and Tylissa pursed her lips and glanced at the commander in a questioning, yet accusatory way; a sign she wanted an explanation before she got started with her own axe training alongside her comrades.

Lillian bit her lip and shook her head, another sigh and adjustment to her sitting arrangements. She cleared her throat and smiled, "So, Commander Anthiot, how long is the training going to be?" It would only be a few moments when Lillian would become a threat once more. A streak of white hair passed behind Anthiot with a blonde and a brown. Her gut instincts kicked in, the need to know surged through her like an electrical impulse. Lillian didn't spare another minute. "Wait, that's her."

She stormed past the commander in an effort to slow down the white-haired woman, who continued to walk as if she didn't know who she was. Lillian knew though. This was she; the woman she'd met at the bus stop. "Hey! Stop!" Lillian began to pick up her pace as the white-haired female began to scurry across the dirt of the camp grounds. "Stop it now!" Lillian's hand reached out and touched the shoulder of the female and jerked her around. A pure look of shock of horror came across her face.

The young lady was just as shocked as she was, her eyebrows upturned and body shaking.

It's not her.

Lillian gulped and opened her mouth a little, "I-I'm sorry." Her voice faded into obscurity as the young white-haired woman with blue eyes was ushered along quickly, her mother or aunt, whoever was beside her reassuring her everything was okay. Her palms felt like they were sweating and her heart felt as if it'd lurched out of her chest. The stranger noticed that others had huddled their children close to them. Hadassah. That was all they saw. Lillian tried to wrap her head around what just happened.

I'm not desperate. I'm not.

A firm hand suddenly grasped her shoulder.

"If you know what's best for you Witch, stay away from my people."

The dark-skinned woman stormed past and Lillian stood there, dumbfounded as she jogged up to the small group. Tylissa had qualms about this new turn of events. To think, after Trahearne had done so much to protect them why did he dare bring in an enemy now and keep her out for the public to torture their young ones? The commander would've done a better job if he'd plunged his sword into her heart the moment he first saw her and if it came to it, she herself, would end the Witch's life if it meant ending her own.

 

[king_arthur]

Anthiot nodded once, firmly, as the girl says she wasn't so idiotic that she would attempt to run. In his eyes, that remained to be seen, but at least he would know if she tried. He was just about to begin training when he heard the question from behind him. Without even turning to look at her, he opened his mouth to answer.

"We will be here for the majority of the afternoon-" he answered but was cut off as every fiber of his being was set ablaze momentarily. He didn't even have a chance to look back before the girl was rushing past him. His jaw set hard and red flashed across his vision, literally. Anthiot considered himself to be a tolerant and patient man. For the entire day though, the girl continued to push that patience, threatening to send him over the edge. He stalked after her, moving quickly, trying to avoid an incident. He was… unsuccessful though, the scene already unfolding before him.

Anthiot knew he couldn't let this behavior continue. He stood behind the girl, his incredibly tall frame dwarfing hers. "Come with me." His voice was cool, a low warning for her not to make another scene. He could feel the metal armor encasing him begin to rise in temperature, and he did everything he could to hold back the Rage. A warrior's Rage was often something they used in combat, it made them stronger, and much more aggressive. An incredibly useful tool, though it was known to come out when not in combat, but it wasn't common, especially for the likes of the Commander.

Heat rolled off him in waves as he moved to lead the girl away from the training grounds. "Training is cancelled for today," he told the Priory members without stopping. It took everything in him not to growl out the words. No one dared question the Commander, especially not in the state he was. As he walked through Fort Trinity to the tent he often commandeered for strategizing and other work, pact members cleared a path, giving Anthiot a wide berth. By the time the tent was reached, he had gotten his Rage completely under control, but his armor was probably still hot to the touch. Because of this, he took off his gauntlets before closing the curtains of the tent.

The Commander lit the oil lamp in the space to make up for the lack of outside light. The now illuminated area showed a modest table with a chair on either side, with some of his papers on top. He motioned for Lillian to sit but chose to not do the same. Instead, he began to speak.

"Hadassah was- is a wretched woman whose mind and ideas spread wickedly across Tyria. These lands," he added, to clarify. He didn't know why he was explaining this to someone who clearly had no good intents and most likely knew everything he was about to say anyway… and yet, he didn't know what to do. The girl had claimed to want answers, so here they were. He could only pray to Kormir that this would placate her and she would cease terrorizing members of the Pact.

"She was a plague on our society, bringing terror wherever she went. She is the reason for all you see around you. The Pact was created to defend our homes against her evil. These metal walls were raised in defiance. She did all she could to amass more power, killing many innocents in the name of gain. The number of those who perished is countless," Anthiot wavered in his speech, thinking of his sister. Savina's body had never been recovered after her fleet was blown to smithereens by Hadassah. There was nothing left to recover. He gritted his teeth at the thought, pushing through and getting back to the point.

"You claim you are not Hadassah. Unfortunately for you, that does absolutely nothing. You appear under suspicious circumstances, two years after this land finally found peace and refuge from the darkness, a perfect vision of her. Right now, it matters not to those outside what your claims are. To them, when they see you they see her. If you ever wish to leave and rid yourself of us then you must show us you are not her. That starts by doing as I say. In your land I may hold no power over you, but here… here I need you to listen to me."

Anthiot stared directly at the girl, bright green eyes piercing right through her. His face and body language were stern, but inside he prayed to every god for guidance.

Anthiot's Rage

This but somewhat toned down

 

[junebug]

Lillian Gauthier

Everyone sees what you appear to be,
few feel what you are.
- Niccolo Machiavelli

She kept up with Anthiot as often as she could and immediately sat down the moment he motioned for her to do so. Lillian knew there were no excuses. Lillian's mind swirled with thousands of negative possibilities; how much he'd condemn her, how much he'd criticize her, but it seemed to be quite the opposite in some way, but not quite what she was expecting. Her hands clenched the pants Ceera had given her as he began to speak. The strange red... flames- she wasn't sure what they called it- seemed to have toned down, but she knew that he was still angry and annoyed with her lack of responsibility.

Lillian wondered briefly, however, how he hadn't been burned to death after the red spark, inferno, whatever it was had seemed to cover his whole body. She could feel the heat linger after it went down. There was a moment of clarity when Anthiot began to describe Hadassah for who his people saw her as; a villain, to sum it all up. Lillian licked her dry lips and wondered what would be appropriate to say; perhaps nothing at all. Lillian wanted to remove her makeup, she wanted to get a shower and get dressed, and she wanted to say sorry, but that probably wouldn't help gain Anthiot's trust.

I wonder if I should tell him about the woman I saw.

Lillian decided against it; at this time, she was Hadassah and everyone was scared of her. She didn't have time to justify her identity or act like she knew who she was. Lillian just had to accept what was going on and listen to the Commander. She nodded in silence and placed her clothing down beside her. So, she was the outsider right now, she was the plague, she wasn't welcome. It was quiet for a few moments before Lillian spoke up, albeit not as loud and frantic as she had been. At least, she understood- sort of- what people were seeing and could sympathize with them; she'd probably feel the same way if some person who looked like a famous serial killer popped up in her life and claimed to not be the famous serial killer.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt anyone. I'm just," she trailed off, "I-I just want to get home. I'll listen to you, do whatever you want. Just, just please give me one more chance." Lillian glanced up at Anthiot, his unsettling aura burning a hole in her body. Her muscles were tense, but she didn't give in. "Uh, um, at- at least let me ask questions or give me a book to read about your world. Something to occupy my time. I'm still interested in knowing where I can take a shower- I mean, bathe... bathe too. And... I mean, nevermind. Just do whatever you need to do. I can wait. I'm sorry you had to cancel training."