Open Fury

[Nathaniel Deveraux]

Day 11, Season Winter, 513 AV

If it had just been Nate, things would've been simpler. That was what Nate was thinking as he stormed through the city of Endrykas, barely watching where he was going. Truthfully, he really didn't care where he was going. It didn't matter anyway, no matter which direction he picked, he was still here, in this petching city with these petching people.

If it had just been Nate, things would have been extremely simple. Without having to worry about his sisters, he'd have immediately started to plan. There was one thing Nate had definitely learned after years of being a hunter, and that was patience. You could not hunt without loads of patience. So he could wait for just the right opportunity to escape. It wouldn't be hard. He'd already considered Riverfall as an excellent possibility; the Akalak were fine warriors and he doubted the Drykas would dare attack their city.

But his sisters were here, and that changed everything. Even if he wanted to leave, he could not leave them behind. What was worse was Kat's attitude. She wanted to be here, and that selfishness had bound Lea and himself to this place as well. Kat knew neither of them would leave without her. Which meant that, like it or not, he was stuck here.

Nate jolted as he very nearly ran into a tree. It was a rare Cyphrus tree, one of those odd things you see every so often on the plains, jutting out of the ground, alone and solitary. Nate supposed the Drykas never bothered to cut it down because, well, it was too small to be worth much firewood, but too large to just knock over. Someone would have to hack at it with a woodsman's axe to bring it down, but clearly no one saw any reason to.

Nate's brown eyes were a storm of emotions. He hated it here. Hated every moment of it. Hated the city, and everyone in it. And the hatred rolled and roiled and burned inside him, and with a strangled cry he sent his fist sailing straight at the rough bark, the knuckles impacting the wood with a dry crack. At that moment, there weren't many people to witness this, not that Nate would have cared, as the pain in his hand helped clear the hate-filled fog in his head.

They should've left him to die out there. Once again, if his sisters weren't here, he'd have preferred that. But even that was not an option; if he died, who would take care of his sisters?

Stuck. Trapped. Caged.

Nate roared and slammed his fist over and over into the truck of the tree, his eyes clouding with unshed tears of anger, rage, and frustration as he just swung with abandon. The bark cracked slightly but his flesh cracked more, blood now streamed down the bruised and battered knuckles, through his fingers, to the grass-covered ground.

Each strike sent shudders of sharp pain down his arm, but Nate just kept swinging regardless. The surge of adrenaline that his anger summoned, combined with mounting frustration at what was an impossible situation to him, kept his fist going and going despite every other part of his brain screaming at him to stop. For some reason, it felt good to finally let loose.

After a few ticks of this, Nate finally found himself out of breath, the hand he'd sent repeatedly into the tree was now pressed against it as he lowered his head, brow covered in a sheen of sweat. Nate gulped down big mouthfuls of air as he tried to once again recapture his composure, his eardrums roaring with the blood rushing past them.

There was no choice. There was never any choice. Whoever said that life was never fair should be executed, Nate decided. Then again, whoever that was, had been absolutely right. He chuckled with a combination of wry gallows humor and surprising relief as he examined his bleeding hand. Despite the pain, despite the sore and bleeding skin, he felt strangely better. Like his fist took the brunt of the punishment, and now he felt... lighter. The fury still burned inside him, like a caged beast. But its hunger had been satisfied... for now.

[Taylani]

Late fall, it was hard to believe that she had been here for so long yet if she looked into a shiny surface her own mother might not recognize her so changed is she. Her skin, used to be pale and milky was now still pale but instead of smooth it showed the signs of sun and weather. Fortunately after her first severe burn, her skin had started to thicken and protect itself. She would never be tanned but the signs was still there. Her red hair, before would have been completely loose and flowing or tied in a tight knot on top of her head when she danced, was now graced with a few braids that were decidedly Drykas. Even her clothing had a Drykas flair, brightly colored and more suited to riding then the dress she had been captured in. If there was still sorrow left in her blue eyes, she did not speak of it any more, she had finally laid down her old life. While she has not fully embraced the culture that had ripped her from her old life...saved her from her poor decision...she no longer fights valiantly against it.

She moved a little away from the tents, a little away from the tented city but not so far that she would endanger herself, or her child. She moved away whenever her stomach was upset, preferring privacy whenever the pregnancy caused her to need to void her stomach. Fortunately for Taylani this was not often, and usually light. Her hand went to her still mostly flat stomach, she could tell a slight change but only because she was so intimately aware of her own body. She doubted even Fallan could tell that there was a swell beginning. This time was the hardest for Taylani, because of her desire to be alone also gave her far too much time on her hands to think, to worry...and to remember. Remembering was dangerous, so when she found herself going over the last mental images of her mother and felt the burn of tears begin she dashed her hand across her blue eyes and turned physically as if that would bar the memories.

The turn caused her to spot a man.... beating up... a tree. An odd thing for him to be doing, her brows crinkle and as a respite from her own melancholy she moves toward him. Willing her stomach to obey her and to stay put she crept closer, not really trying to be quiet but not making much noise thanks to her natural toe to heel walking style.

When she drew closer she realizes that she recognized the man, though she did not know his name. He was one of the captives sold on the same day as she, though she did not see who had purchased him. She had been caught up in her own drama, but she did remember him with two other girls. One brow raises, and she delicately clears her throat, though she suspects that he might have been able to hear her. "You know. The tree didn't do anything..but be here.." Her words were softly spoken, with a good amount of sympathy in her voice, does she not also have trouble with her temper? While she doesn't know exactly the cause of his turmoil, she could guess the likelihood that it was in their shared situation.

[Nathaniel Deveraux]

The flames of rage had died down to embers again. Truthfully, it had been building for nearly going on a season now. Each frustration, each mounting reason for him to absolutely hate this place piled onto the fire like cord-wood, stoking the flames until it burned hotter than the sun. Nate had become like a volcano, the pressure building and building, but the little tousle with the tree had relieved some of that pressure, though Nate was quite sure it would slowly build again. He sincerely hoped he wouldn't have to do this each time he needed a release; what he'd just done was not very good for the continued good health of his wrist or knuckles. Already, he could feel the sting in the areas that had ripped and torn, and with a sigh he almost took out his medical equipment to treat his self-sustained wound when behind him, he heard someone speak.

"You know. The tree didn't do anything... but be here..."

Right. He wasn't alone here. Nate briefly wondered if anyone else saw his little match against the inanimate object, though if they were Drykas they probably didn't care. Not that he'd want sympathy from the tattooed petchers; truthfully if one of them had approached he well might have snarled at them. A fellow captive, then, to have such good Common. Nate sighed, and turned.

The woman had red hair. Seriously? Nate had thought that red hair was supposed to be a rare thing. His sisters were the only red-headed people in Syliras, at least that he had ever met. And now, here in Endrykas, he'd already met two more. Some part of him thought it extremely ironic, if not hilariously so, that this was the case, but his fury overrode his humor, leaving just a blank expression on his face.

Otherwise, she was willowy and had the figure of a swimmer or a dancer. Neither of which was a profession Nate had any particular interest or capability in. Regardless, she was neither now. Nothing more than breeding stock, really. Nate took a few breaths, both to fully catch his breath and to calm himself down. There was plenty of blame to go around, but for certain this woman was entirely blameless. She was as much victim as his sisters were.

"True enough, but better to hit it, and merely damage my knuckles, than to hit a Drykas," Nate replied, as he finished the action he planned on taking earlier, removing his waterskin from the backpack and using some of the alcohol within to sanitize the wound. He would need to find cloth to serve as bandages later, but for now, he needed to wash out any wood chips that had gotten in through the torn skin. That sort of debris can easily lead to infection if left untreated.

Nate instinctively winced as the alcohol stung the fresh, wounded skin, but he kept going, making sure to properly wash the area of infectants before plugging the waterskin and returning it to the backpack. Nate chuckled ruefully, bitterly. "Oh I'm sure they'd just love that," he snorted. But really, the fire had died, and despite the sarcasm that dripped from his words, there wasn't much heat in them.

Turning to the unknown woman, he shrugged and gave her a haggard smile. "So, whose brand do you wear?" he asked her.

[Taylani]

One brow arches over her eye as he speaks of hitting a tree being better then a Drykas, she smiled as it brought memories of her very physical scuffle with Fallan the day he had presumed to purchase her. She well remembered the spike of satisfaction she felt when her claws had raked his face, even amid the rage and fear. She leaned in conspiratorially and whispers "Ah but much less satisfactory then hitting a Drykas."

Straightening, she tosses her hair over her shoulder and watched the man quietly as he began to doctor his knuckles. The fact that he carried alcohol with him screamed that he had training as a healer, something she knew nothing about so she did not offer to help. Instead she figures the man needed to vent, only few weeks before she would not have had patience for anyone else's agony or pain, so wrapped up in hers was she. However since her failed escape attempt shattered much of her expectations and hopes of escape, she has found herself much more mellow. She didn't analyze that too closely.

She did not return his smile, her blue eyes going a little flat when he asked about her brand. Not in anger or annoyance at him, but simply because that was still a touchy subject for her. Instinctively her hands press against her stomach, even though she raised her chin almost in defiance, straightening to her full height. "I wear no one's brand." Her words were cold, hard, and her eyes glittered softly. "That was something Fallan had to learn too. If you mean who presumed to purchase me, Fallan Windchaser, of the Amethyst clan." She shrugs, a wave of light nausea caused her to lose her steam, and for a moment she stood tense before it passed. Once it did she did give him a wan smile, "It is a hard road. The struggle between them and us. Trying to maintain who you are..while they try and force their culture on you." She speaks in empathy, knowing full well his bitterness and rage. They were her own until very recently.

[Nathaniel Deveraux]

Nate did not mean an actual brand, of course. He meant the question more figuratively. So she wore the brand of this "Fallan", did she? And much like Kat, she'd already broken. Not that he was surprised, he'd seen what happened to slaves. The image of the broken man from Sunberth, the scars of his torture still evident all over his back, the brand that had burned its way into the flesh of his cheek prominent, showing all the world who he belonged to... there was no guarantee they did not do that to the slaves here.

"It's hilarious, isn't it?" he asked rhetorically, his natural sarcasm coming to the fore once again. "How they seize us from our homes, don't give us any choice, and then they expect us to just become one of them, like as though it's the best thing in the world."

Nate growled, eying the tree again. If he let himself, he could work himself into enough of a frenzy that he'd have another go at it, and that would not help his already bruised hand any. Taking several deep breaths, he calmed himself once again.

"Anyway, my name is Nathaniel Deveraux, but please just call me Nate. Everybody does," he introduced himself. "I'd offer my hand in friendship, but, well..." Nate grinned apologetically, indicating the bruised knuckles.

"Apparently, I was 'given' to Arundel Dinos, of the same clan your Fallan came from. My predecessor, it seems, decided it was just such a great idea to go running off into the wilds without a plan." Nate sighed. "I could've told him not to do that. Even if you wanted to run, you need a legitimate plan, not just dash half-brained and hope to make it."

Nate noticed, a bit belatedly, that the woman seemed slightly dizzy when she drew herself up. "Are you alright, by the way?" he asked, his face morphing into concern. Once again, he could not help but try to help. "I don't pretend to be an expert healer of any stretch of the imagination, but I am capable of emergency first-aid if needed..."

[Taylani]

She remembered well the rage, the anger, she also remembered the hatred that stewed in her heart. The long nights of tears, the long days of avoiding contact, they were just as much apart of her past as was dance or the tiny scar on her knee when she fell at the age of seven. She grins, and gives a soft laugh when he speaks of the captive who had been found dead though her laugh was forced, and a shiver went through her body. When she did address it she speaks plainly. "Sometimes one doesn't run to get away safely. Sometimes one runs to get away period. Be it death or safety." her voice was flat, and she took a moment to wonder if word had reached through out the full Amethyst clan about her recent escape attempt. Hers was the latter, at the time feeling death would be better then life here.

She wondered idly if she should tell him about the web, she knew it was ultimately that knowledge that no matter what they could find her that finally got her to settle down. It wasn't happiness, but at least it was peaceful and this man looked like he could use a dose of peace. "It's not the best thing in the world, and yes they are wrong to do what they do." She shrugged, a little helplessly "But we can't change the past. Trust me, even with the best laid plans..you won't get far." She stops short of telling him about the web, Fallan didn't seem happy when Waisana had told her about it. Apparently it was some big Drykas secret.

She waves a hand at his concern, shaking her head with a spray of red hair. "It's nothing, little morning sickness. It comes and goes, but is not too bad. I have seen some with far worse then I. Your..predecessor's sister was so weak with it when they first started the ....the raids. I met her briefly before the auction. I do hope she is well, she did not look the strong type. I am called Taylani, from Syliras." She smoothed her hand down her thighs, a habit as if she was smoothing skirts though she was wearing breeches, and she settles on to the ground with a sigh.

"I was a lot like you Nate. Until I ran, and those huge storms hit." Her fingers plucked a piece of grass, twirling it in her fingers. "I didn't expect to survive, but I figured that death out there...well the slim hope of running into a traveler or death was much better then leaving my child here." She paused, looked pointedly up at Nate, "I left in the middle of the night, it was hours later, and he came out of no where on his strider...was able to find me in the middle of that storm." That was as close as she was willing to get now, revealing the secrets of the Drykas webbing.

[Nathaniel Deveraux]

It was just easier to talk to a fellow Syliran than it was talking to the Drykas. There were no double meanings, no hidden hand-signs changing the entire timbre of the conversation. Just straightforward words. This was what he'd missed, he realized. Just... communication. In response to her words about running, Nate shrugged.

"True enough, I suppose. But I learned a long time ago that with certain things, you can run but you'll only die tired." Nate sighed. "Truthfully, as long as they've got my sisters, I'll behave. I mean, what else can I do?"

With a shrug, Nate leaned against the tree, looking up at the sky. The clouds from the storms had passed, leaving just little puffs of white floating by. He was tempted to go back to his old game of counting them, but thought better of it and looked back down.

"Besides, when I'm not being a medic, I'm a hunter. I can tell you that every instinct as a hunter tells me they must have a way to track us. Else why are we not chained?" Nate reasoned. "Their confidence speaks volumes. If running were possible, someone would have succeeded by now and we'd know about it. No, I think if escape was an option, it'd be a distant one."

Nate's mouth tightened. "Y'know, truthfully it isn't even my situation that's got me upset. It's my sisters. If it were just me, I'd have drawn a weapon and gone down fighting when they first tried to take me. Sadly that plan doesn't work when they have your loved ones as hostages."

With a heavy sigh, he shrugged. "What I find most ironic is how upset they get when I draw parallels with what they're doing to what Zith usually do. They get really rankled by that. I guess they can't see the similarities. Or perhaps they don't want to."

Nate listened attentively as she described her symptoms. Morning sickness. Which meant pregnancy. Nate understood sufficient basic medicine to know that. But unfortunately, that was the extent to which his knowledge of how to care for pregnant women stretched. He had no formal training as a midwife, so he did not know the particulars, and so he decided to mostly drop that subject since there was not much advice he could actually give that would be useful.

When she mentioned she as a lot like him, Nate grinned and shrugged. "No two people are ever exactly alike," he replied. "Though I can definitely see the similarities. I dunno, I mean, for me, it's just..."

Nate looked back up at the sky. "I just don't get why they'd want me to become one of them. I mean, I can understand being a slave. I'll hunt to get food and patch up any wounded they have. I'd be lying if I said I was completely fine with it, but I'll do it because I've got no choice."

With a derisive snort, Nate shrugged and looked back down. "I just don't get why they expect me to be happy about it, like as though this was supposed to be a good thing. Oh yeah, I just love being plucked from my home and pressed into service. I do it all the time."

Nate's voice had taken on the biting, sour note of sarcasm again, a tone it had taken on quite a bit the last season. It was a defense mechanism of sorts, a way for him to lash out without actually lashing out. He wasn't all that angry anymore, or even necessarily bitter. Just... tired. He was tired of fighting, and just wanted it all to end.

There'd been times when he'd looked at his kukri, the dull edge glinting in the sun, and wondered how long it would take between stabbing himself in the heart, and feeling it stop beating. It wouldn't be hard. And it wasn't the fear of pain that kept him from doing it. Lea and Kat's faces swam before his eyes.

No, he couldn't go yet. He had to be strong.

[Taylani]

"It would be easier to be called a slave wouldn't it though?" Taylani asked, her knees draw up and her arms wrap around her legs easily laying her chin on top of her kneecaps. "It was easy to remain strong and angry when he still referred to me as his slave. When he told me I had to bear him two healthy children before he would take me back to Syliras, I didn't lose focus or sight." She shakes her head, the locks of her red hair that was not bound tightly in her braid shimmied across her back.

"But it was the moment he stopped, and moved us into his family pavilion. That is when things got confusing. That is when it got hard to fight." She falls silent for a moment, studying his face. Studying his features, and the way he held his body, the tension that though she had never spoke with him before she knew would always be there. How did she know? Because she had been there, not too long ago. On the precipice of looking out across the grasses and thinking that being rend apart by wild animals was better then to be slowly poisoned by this culture. Even that was beyond her, thanks to the web, but it also opened up an entire new avenue. Some part of her knew it was wrong, that she shouldn't be happy being in a relationship with the man who for all intents and purposes was her rapist and captor.

"You will have to ask yourself two questions, eventually. Is whatever that keeps you from trying to escape worth staying? If yes, then is holding onto yourself, to your old life, worth the anger bitterness ..." She pointedly looked down at his knuckles then back up to his face, " worth the busted knuckles. When escape is impossible, then you do what you must to at least have some peace."

[Nathaniel Deveraux]

Nate knew, logically, that it made some amount of sense to try to make a life here. Because when he thought about it, there wasn't anything to return to in Syliras. Both his parents were dead. He did not have any extended family, at least that he knew of. And having spend so many years looking after his sisters, he never had time to form lasting relationships with anyone. Everything had been devoted to taking care of them. He still did, in his own limited way.

And truthfully, even if Zulrav himself had come down and ordered the Drykas to bring him back to Syliras, he knew he could never leave without his sisters. If the were happy here, could he, perhaps, let go himself? But then there was the problem of choice. And Nate was quite certain that he'd never been given any choice. Pretty much the only choice he had left was how he died, but that was one choice he reserved for only the worst-case scenarios.

"You're right, of course," Nate shrugged. "But you are wrong, that escape is impossible. If you wanted it badly enough, there is always a means of escape. If not into the arms of saviors, then into the arms of Dira."

Nate shrugged, not really bothered by his tacit admission that he'd considered suicide an acceptable escape from this life. "I don't escape in either fashion because they have my sisters. And I will not abandon them. For them, I'd walk into Hei itself. So since the Drykas have them, I will obey. But I will not kneel, and I will not bow."

Nate knew, for all intents and purposes, that he was stuck here. The arms of Dira would be the only relatively sure way he could escape, and that would leave both his sisters in a very unpleasant position. Did he truly hate it here so much he'd consider such a drastic action? Nate truly did not know. All he did know was that he would not end up like that man from Sunberth. Rather dead than broken.

"You know, it's rather interesting," he mused. "One of my sisters, Katerina, she's a lot like you. But when she was in Syliras, she'd always seemed so... confined. I could tell she was unhappy. A brother can always tell. I think she actually likes it better here."

Nate sighed. He didn't say it with heat or anger, or even accusation. Just acceptance, with a twinge of annoyance.

"Now, you might say it's nothing but stubborn pride," Nate confessed. "But my pride is the one thing they can't take from me. They can take my freedom, they can take my sisters, they can take my life, but my pride is my own. And I will not give it up."

[Taylani]

Taylani listened quietly, enjoying more then she wanted to admit the unaccented common, but also because he seemed to need an ear to hear. She processed his words carefully, even his words that sounded much like suicide. This was not unusual, she herself had resigned herself to death over captivity as well at one time. But this man did not need someone to just sympathize with him. What did he need?

When she speaks it's without accusation, her voice simply soft and questioning. "Is that what you think this is? Accepting, and choosing peace is losing pride?" She gives a smile and a quirked brow. "What pride is there to being forced to bear children? That is what is in store for the female captives. The Drykas are dying off because of some illness, and they are trying to replenish their numbers."

She straightens her legs out, leaning back on her arms. "I had a choice, bear his children, enjoy some measure of safety or..bear his children in chains. Not much choice, and I spent the season fighting it. Did he wear me down? Yes, but not by using threats, but by being decent. Your sisters have a choice. It sounds as if this Kat has made hers."

Turning her blue eyes up to him, "Perhaps it is easier for women, to accept. It is far easier to accept then to bear children and leave them. But I accept on my terms. You need to learn this Arundel, learn and make her accept on your terms. That..or it really will be the arms of Dira for you..And that is sad, you seem like a nice man." She offered him another small smile, and pats the ground beside her. Inviting him to settle down, even as she crosses her legs at the ankles, running a hand over her still-flat stomach smoothing her blouse down.

"I loved Syliras, I never wanted to leave except maybe to visit Riverfall and dance at their Amphitheater that I have heard about. I had a ...minor...disagreement with the knights so they sent me on their way." She shrugs with a sigh, "I miss my mother mostly, but it's easier if I don't dwell on it. You know, the Drykas in the Opal tents, they have healers. They could train you. Though I am not sure how Arundel ..what she um..says?" She didn't know how to politely ask about his relationship with the woman who bought him. Fallan had always encouraged her activities to learn skills out here in Endrykas.