Closed Birds of a Feather [Noah Amuel]

[Firenze]

44-Winter-515AV

Anger. That was the first emotion that rose to the surface as a foot kicked out and knocked over a nearby chair. It only relieved her for a moment until the anger bubbled back to the surface again. Head tipped back and rested against the wall of the back bedroom. Closing her eyes briefly she tried to breath to center herself and think of a way out of the situation. It hurt to move too much as the binding bit into her wrists. She’d have rope burns on her skin she knew for certain.

Peeking her lids back open she looked around the room trying to think of a plan to get out. Vinicus had left again on some errand or other. Unsure of where his trips were usually taking him she had a faint idea from the odor that seeped from his pores when he came back. Smoke and alcohol had been the stench that followed him like a shadow since they’d come to Syliras. The apartment didn’t smell much better. It hadn’t been cleaned in weeks, dirt and moldy food littered everywhere.

It had been weeks since she’d bathed and knew that she was definitely adding to the stench. Sighing she lifted her head back up, candlelight threw rays across the room, dust motes floated through them and Fire watched them dance to pass the time while she tried to figure out when he would be back. Eyes turned down toward the chair she knocked over and then down to her ankle wrapped in rope and tied to the bedpost.

He’d even gone so far as to lock a chain around her neck so she couldn’t shift. It made sense that he would know his wife was a Kelvic so he would know to bind her around the neck. It made her wonder if he did bind her and if the chain around her neck was her mother’s. Mother. She never thought she’d be able to say that. Or know her mother.

It made being bound and gagged and shipped halfway across the land all worth it. Because it hadn’t been her mother in her position. Vinicus had gotten his kicks off smacking her around but she was sure that he would kill Melody. From his talks on the journey it sounded as though he thought he owned her. It made her wonder how her mother and grandmother had escaped. It was a terrible thought, her mother being a prisoner in her own home.

Her thoughts continued to turn darker, thinking of all the different ways she could kill her stepfather. Shaking her head she tried to concentrate on the best to get out of the apartment. She tried to remember where they had gone when they came into the city but she wasn’t familiar with it and the thoughts were foggy. They would to have come in through a main road, taken a left… or was it a right? Unsure, she chewed on her bottom lip and closed her eyes.

-------------------

They’d walked through the gates, through what seemed like a stabling area and some small business, they had wound their way through. Did the make a left somewhere? It was hard for her to focus on where they had gone because there had been so many people and everything was so stifling. It felt even more cramped than Zeltiva. Zeltiva had been busy but it had an open feel to it. The city they were in now had felt somewhat cramped as people milled and bustled.

She closed her eyes tighter and tried to think, they had veered right down a long thin street and then… and then where? Puffing out the air in her lungs, loose hair flying with the sharp breeze, she shifted her weight and took another deep breath. The inky blackness behind her eyelids shifted slightly in color as the candle flickered. Where… where…

Others | Firenze | Thoughts

[Noah Amuel]

Outside the frigid winter air had been warmed by the unusual shine of the sun. This day it pierced through, yet in the sky’s horizon an incoming cloud formation could be seen. It had been snowing off and on for the last several days, surpassing a week in time, and was approaching a second week of near constant snowfall. Along with the snow came the temperature which allowed it to form in the first place. Noah hated the chill this winter brought with it. It was so unlike the Syliras he had come to know in the last two years. The cold made it uncomfortable for him to shift. He didn’t want to fly when his wings were at risk of freezing. To combat the cold, he walked everywhere he went and rarely went outside of his apartment. If he did leave his apartment it was to either go to work or visit his love, Elann.

From work is where he was coming now, rounding a corner with boots sloshing against slush. He knew it would only refreeze into a greying block of unattractive ice. If he had learned anything from this winter and the snow it brought, snow was ugly. Sure, it looked great when it was freshly fallen, but when it lay there for a time, melting in inconsistent patches, it was ugly. He wished it gone, wished his god, Zulrav, would stop with the winds which brought the clouds bearing the snow over Syliras.

The young Kelvic male sighed at his thoughts then watched as his breath crystalized before him. It dissipated in the weak, moodless wind that blew from his back. As it fled his perceptible vision, he was saddened. It was barely the middle of winter and it had proved itself conducted by a cruel mistress. Spring was far off, farer still was summer, his favorite season. Summer brought with it a bounty of prey freshly desperate to embrace the warming rays and clear skies, his clear skies. There had yet to be a bird he could not drive from the sky and once he did the field before him was his for the taking. The summer bounty was his to reap along with the ground-locked predators whom he avoided. The bears, wolves, cougars, and lynxes weren’t his concern, the food they all hunted were.

His tongue grazed over his dry lips at the thought of summer. Noah had delivered his last letter of the day and was heading home. Oddly enough he saved the farthest trip from his home as the last delivery. While he usually did it the other way around, he wanted to avoid staying out of the cold and away from Elann as much as possible. Thus when the last parcel was delivered closer to home, he could make short work of getting there. He wondered what possessed him to change his routine. His devoutness chalked it up to Zulrav’s machinations. Maybe the winds flowing down a particularly street moved him, or perhaps there was another deity in the heavens working their magic on his otherwise oblivious mind.

He didn’t particularly linger on the thought though, turning another corner. He was walking in the Bittern District of Syliras it seemed, told by the wayward signs perched above his head. Given that most of the occupants of Syliras were working, the streets weren’t necessarily busy aside from the occasional mother with her children, or working woman, or working men transporting goods to and fro. On his left were a bank of apartments. The doors were spaced out enough so that each resident could decorate the makeshift porch of their home with a personalized bauble. He watched them now, glossing over each one with his stark eyes, olive in the pale grey light showing down from above.

Each door his eyes were momentarily set upon evoked the thought of the lives preside behind it. He imagined made up citizens enjoying themselves, talking like Elann and he did, taking care of their children, cooking meals, cleaning. Ever since his consummation of a relationship with Elann, everything around him seemed very tame in comparison to how he viewed the world before. It all seemed quiet and monotonous, yet he didn’t feel that way about his life. He hummed thoughtfully, turning his head to face forward as his boots carried him onward down the way.

[Firenze]

Shaking her head she tried to clear the fog. Her memory just didn’t seem to want to work with her, it had been too many weeks since they’d arrive. Instead of trying to focus on what had happened she decided to focus on the now and how to get out.

Her legs were free for the most part, with the exception of the rope binding her to the bedpost. Hopping with her rear on the floor she scooted as close as she could to the bed. Shifting she turned her legs and moved them under her so that her rear sat on her calves. Tucking toes, legs pushed and raised her to her feet.

Moving as far from the bed as possible, pacing the same area that had been worn almost every day for the last couple of weeks, only this time gauging how far away from the bed she could get and toward the door. A few feet separated her and the outside world. Pulling with all her might against the weight of the bed, it barely budged an inch, the heavy wood keeping it in place. Her back to the door she leaned her bound leg stretched out, rope tight, to see if that got her any closer. It had but only by another foot or so, still short.

She moved and dropped her foot back to the floor and then paced as far away from the door as possible, taking a run for it this time she tried to use the momentum and her weight to shift the bed closer. As she reached the end of the line the rope snapped taut and halted her abruptly and with a soft pop in her ankle. Screaming Fire dropped to the floor, wondering if it had just popped it or actually done some damage. Well that wasn’t the best idea. She moved her foot to check if there was still movement, there were a few sharp pangs from over extension but everything still seemed intact.

The only good thing to have come from it was that it had indeed shifted the bed and this time she was closer to the heavy wooden door. Close enough in fact that as she stretched her body out her head reached it. Scrunching back, legs tucked and pushed up, shifting her weight back to standing position she tried reaching again. Her tied leg stretched out, rope tight almost holding her balanced, the other foot on the floor, she leaned. Yes!! Her head touched the door!

Leaning as best she could without falling over, she moved slowly arching her body just slightly so that her mouth could get to the handle. Before her lips touched the cold metal a shiver went through her, pushing the thoughts to the side she wrapped her lips around the little lever. Bending back up at the torso, her side and leg muscles burning from supporting her weight, her lips wrapped tightly around the handle and she slowly lifted it out of the hold on the door.

As it raised her lips began to lose their grip, as it neared half way she threw her head and prayed to the Gods it would continue it’s path and not fall back into the hold. Leg shaking she stood upright, eyes closed against the pain and burning. Once she was again standing straight she peeked over to the handle and thankfully the Gods were with her as it had indeed fallen to the side.

Giving herself a few chimes to recoup from the stress on her muscles she followed the same method as before, this time hoping that she could pull the door with her mouth. After she felt the burn subside, she knew she’d only have a few ticks before it would come back. Stretching out, her lips wrapped around the hold on the door, her teeth grabbing at the piece she pulled as hard as she could, the cold metal biting into her lips. A tear escaped from the corner of her eye as she pulled, pain coursing through most of her body.

The heavy door had only moved a few inches, a small stream of light peeking through the crack before Fire fell, the leg supporting her weight giving out. Lying on the floor she huffed, trying to catch her breath. Golden orbs glanced toward the light, it’s little sliver giving her hope to call out to someone. Rolling over she tried to peek through, reaching her head up to get her mouth as close as possible.

“Someone PLEASE! I’m over here!! PLEASE!” She called out until her throat felt raw and dry.

Others | Firenze | Thoughts

[Noah Amuel]

The bank of apartments on the Kelvic’s flank continued to drone on, but his attention was fixed in the distance where the road turned into an intersection of alleys, then another road would merge further down the way. Years in the castle city prepared him for the winding twists and turns the roads made. His awareness throughout the city only continued to progress with every letter, parcel, or package he delivered. His job sent him to all corners of the city and down alleys with no names. In the last year Noah learned more about the city than he did in the first two years after arriving from Zeltiva.

His boots stamped slush aside and sent it splattering outward, only leaving his shoeprint in the wake of his trot. His choice of attire in the day prepared him for the chill of winter, and it was dreadful today. His boots, black in color, gripped as high as his mid-shin. Tucked into them were his woolen trousers which disappeared under his tabard made up of fine navy dyed wool. Trailing upwards, his shoulders were draped with a hooded cloak which continued to flow down his back, only perturbed by the occasional whip of wind, or waved by the way he walked. His hands were gripped in fur-lined leather gloves, keeping his fingers within warm for the most part. It didn’t stop him from balling his hands into fists rhythmically to keep the warm blood pumping and warding off the stiffness that came with cold. If they froze now, they’d hurt when he finally managed to warm up.

Noah’s predatory gaze swept about his predetermined path, glossing over to the sides as he was occasionally flanked by wayward doors, gates, and snow drifts. He could feel the white powder clinging to the bottom of his boots. He didn’t like it, how they weighed his feet down. He was used to feeling weightless, free, not weighed down by the heaviness winter brought. It was, in the simplest sense, annoying. He tried not to let it get to him though. Winter, like all things, would pass and the warmth would come. Instead, his mind drifted back to Zeltiva and how, even in winter, warmth seemed to radiate from the sea. In summer the coastal city was also slightly cooler. Each inward gust coming from the ocean was gripped with salt and gentle coolness. He took a breath there, inhaling in memory only to have his chest gripped by the dry cold of Syliras.

The cold brought on a coughing fit, giving him pause in his thoughts and walk to cover his mouth. It felt as if the cold hard reality of adulthood slammed into him there, completely dispelling the warmth of childhood, family, and togetherness, replacing it with the chill of life, the repetition of working a job to survive. Togetherness was still present in his life thanks to a few people, but should he lose them, then togetherness would flee too just like warmth and his family.

Noah cleared his throat following the coughing fit and wiped the tears that formed from the intensity of it all. His chest hurt and his throat was threatening to be sore. Each breath only irritated it more, made him more uncomfortable. He wanted to go home all the more now but, just as he took a step in the direction, a loud shout, or yell, disrupted the quietness of the street. Noah froze, whirling in the general direction of the shout. It came again, begging, pleading for attention. The distress was apparent and now so was the direction. It was coming from behind Noah, coming from the bank of apartments he passed.

His walk turned into a jog as he pressed off in the direction, already tender throat being further torn apart from the deep chilled breaths coming through his open mouth. The rush of air further dried his chapped lips and running into the breeze that was once at his back made his face hurt. The shout came again, desperate and raw, piercing the silence further. The Kelvic hurried, shuffling pass door after door until one slightly ajar from its latch caught his perceptive glance. The plea came one more time, weaker than before, but at the close distance the same desperation was heard in the tone. Noah’s jog turned into a brisk walk as he was upon the door. With a cautious hand he slowly pressed it open, letting the hinges creak at his sloth’s pace.

There, his hazel-grey eyes met the golden orbs of the shouter, a woman whose appearance denoted the stress in her voice. With wide eyes of surprise Noah stepped quickly into the apartment and closed the door behind him. The wintry winds would surely follow him inside should he not have closed the door, thus chilling the ill-equipped woman. “A-Are you okay?” he stuttered, stooping to his knees at her side, inspecting her body. He noticed the collar on her neck and the tautly pulled rope tied on her ankles. Without hesitation he went to undoing the knot on her at the base of her leg. “Don’t worry, I-I’m going to help you,” he hurriedly spat. The distress in the woman’s voice and the appearance she displayed all pointed to an abuse of some kind. Even if Noah was unfamiliar with it himself, he knew it was wrong, something that shouldn’t be had by any person. The knot of the rope was undrawn and revealed the telltale signs of rope-burn and possible swelling. Noah grimaced at the sight, turning his eyes to meet the woman’s. “Who did this?” he insisted.

[Firenze]

Shifting off of her shoulder slightly she laid her head against the cold floor. Throat raw she continued to call out until the door began to move, cutting her off mid-sentence. Cold air rushed against her skin stinging her eyes, making them water.

A young man with dark curly hair wrapped in cold weather clothing pushed against the door and then quickly shut it behind him. She prayed that he was not ill willed and that he wouldn’t be worse than the man that had put her in this position.

When he kneeled down and spoke she gave a sigh of relief her eyes closing for a brief moment. “Yes, I’m okay, but we need to get out of here quick,” the urgency in her voice trying to motivate him to move quickly and untie her. Rolling to her front so her hands and the rope were exposed he made surprisingly quick work of untying the knots. When her hands were unbound she sighed again and pulled her hands to the front of her body. Stretching out her shoulders and rubbing on her wrists.

She watched him as he released her from the bed and then turned soft blue eyes toward her. “It’s kind of a long story, but it was my stepfather. I’m not sure when he’s going to be back so it’s probably best we get out of here quickly.” Standing to her feet she hobbled over to an armoire and began shuffling through the clothing. A long black hooded cloak lined with fur hung on the inside. Grabbing it she tossed it onto the bed and then turned and began to shuffle through the chest sitting nearby. A long sleeve wool sweater was tossed out along with some rather large britches and a belt to hold them up.

Throwing the sweater over her shirt she pulled the pants on over her thin and frayed leggings. Holding them up with one hand and trying to make quick work of knotting the belt around her waist to hold them up, she grimaced when her wrist brushed her side. It felt as though she had sunburn in the middle of the chilly winter.

As she began to slip a naked foot into her boot she paused and pulled her foot back out. She dug back into the chest again pulling out heavy woolen socks and pulled them onto her feet. While she hurried around the small apartment, tossing clothes all over, she spoke to the man who had unbound her.

“You don’t know how grateful I am you showed up, truly.” Pulling on a sock and shoving her foot in her boot, the cloak dragging on floor around her she tried to hurry. “Do you mind if I ask a favor of you? Could you tell me a way to get to the front gates?” Her other foot slipped into the boot as she reached over to the nearby table, pulling a small loaf of stale bread off the surface and stuff it in her mouth while she hopped around pulling on the boot.

Looking over to the man she shoved her hand out toward him, hoping that the rather foul smell hadn’t stirred when she moved. Although she might have a rather repugnant smell, her leg muscles still burned and her skin where the ropes had been throbbed with each heartbeat, she wasn’t going to let it stop her from being polite to the man. “I’m Fire. I really appreciate this, you have no idea.” The collar jingled around her neck as she pulled back and tightened the cloak around it, the key’s location for the lock unbeknownst to her.

Others | Firenze | Thoughts

[Noah Amuel]

The answers to his questions were provided in quick time. There was a sense of urgency lacing the woman’s voice and he didn’t need a wolf’s ear to detect it. The woman confessed her stepfather was the one who bound her to the bed and strapped the collar on her neck. She also voiced that it would be best for them to leave quickly. He nodded in agreement, not wanting to be the sole protector of a woman entirely unknown to him. Noah helped her up, letting her use him as a counterbalance until she stood again. When she was standing she left his hold and went about the room, hobbling to an armoire.

The flighty Kelvic watched with an anxiety in his eyes and a fluster in his heart. He felt it there, beating against the bone which held it within his breast. He thought, as she threw the cloak onto the bed, that her stepfather would be bursting through the door behind him at any moment. With a tense frame he watched the woman go from the armoire to the chest where she drew more clothes from. She moved with a haste only impeded by her injured leg. She was the only visionary stimulation around, thus his eyes clung to her, taking in her appearance. The telltale signs of abuse were present on her visible skin; her hair was matted and dirty, her face was the same; the clothes she did wear were torn in random places, the leggings were frayed and elderly looking. To top it all off, the woman smelled terribly bad.

The abused seemed to hesitate in putting on her shoes. Noah fidgeted, mind split between possibly impended danger and the urge to make sure the woman escaped from her confinement safely. His flighty nature made it all too easy for him to flee from this moment, and the mounting tension within his physical being projected itself outwards in nervous jitters. The woman spoke to him, drawing him from his shallow yet distracting thoughts, making him jump at attention to her. He didn’t know what to say to her thanks, but her question provoked an answer. His voice, wavering in the nervousness, came saying, “I can do that. I was headed that way myself.”

He steeled himself with an inward breath. Animal instincts fought internally with the human instilled compassion. This situation was entirely foreign to him and paled in comparison to the thrill of the hunt. There, in the wilds, he had control, he was the predator and was unrivaled in the skies. Here, he felt like one of his prey creatures, like the hares quivering when they noticed his shadow on the snow. The looming threat of the woman’s stepfather coming back was that shadow. He had no escape either. There was one way in that doubled as the way out and the room lacked windows.

His thoughts ran quickly over his lack of retreat, taking note as the woman jostled towards him with an extended hand. The pungent aroma came with him causing him to find the extreme want to recoil. He met her hand with his own and nodded at her name. “Fire,” he rehearsed under his breath, committing the name to his memory to match her face and matted blonde hair. “My name’s Noah.” His reply was quick as were his steps to the door. While he pushed it in gently before when he first arrived, he yanked at it now, causing it to tremble mightily as it was pulled.

The winter winds swept in almost instantly, whipping at their cloaks. “Let’s go now,” he urged, extending his hand to her to pull her along.

[Firenze]

He’d agreed to lead her out and escape and the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding slipped between her lips. A strong hand met hers as they exchanged quick introductions and he gave his name. She followed his suit, watching as he yanked the door open, the wind whipping through the apartment. Icy fingers caressed the bare skin of her face and hands as she followed him.

She didn’t bother to close the door behind her in their rush to get away from the apartment. Not wanting to be in the vicinity any longer than necessary. Wrapping her hand in his, the warmth and a slight comfort at not having to be alone resounded with the gesture. Cold stones smacked under their boots. Silence stretched between the two as they weaved through the narrow road in the district.

Cutting a sharp left they turned down another winding road. Apartments, housing and shops alike passed by as quick footsteps tried to make quick work of the walk without raising too much suspicion. Knocking into a woman, Fire apologized quickly and continued her pace, a furrowed brow and a frown followed her.

They weren’t moving at a quick enough pace for her taste, if it had been her choice they’d be running. Unfortunately the heavy foot traffic of the day mixed with the overwhelming urge to blend in rather than cause commotion kept her from bolting to the gate and having to answer more questions than she was wanting to risk. It would slow them and possibly give Vinicus more time to figure out where she’d gone.

Fear clenched her heart causing it to pound against her ribs, blood rushing in her ears, eyes dilated with panic and adrenaline. Quick short breaths caused a constant white cloud in front of her face, the hood of the cloak pulled over her matted and blood stained hair. The swirls of snow mimicked the swirling of emotions in her chest; roaring anger, crippling fear and the need to sob at the realization of where her life had turned in such a short timeframe.

How? It was the only question she could think as they swung around another corner and the path became wider, her eyes glancing from the street to the back of Noah’s head. Brown curls moved with the breeze and she didn’t want to question how lucky she’d been but instead thanked the Gods that he’d been the one to open the door.

While glancing between him and the curve in the road they’d come upon she knew the reason of the question, willingly accepting that she’d made the choice. Refusing to give away where her mother and grandmother had gone Vinicus had taken her instead. None to gentle about it, he made it clear that he was going to use her to find Melody whether she gave him the information or he made her. She’d held resolve this far but… she choked back on a sob that tried to slip out, wanting to keep composure until she could get somewhere safe and then break down.

Others | Firenze | Thoughts

[Noah Amuel]

Their pace was briskly set with Noah leading the way. Fire, as she introduced herself, wrapped her hand in his and let him trail her in the brisk pace. The anxiety that gripped him before, threatening to freeze his muscles, was melting away as they distanced themselves from the home, of whose door they left open. What warmth inside would be siphoned out by the breezes as they caressed the stone walls of the apartment that once held his female companion. Her prison, void of her heat, would become cold as the outside streets they trekked hurriedly with him as her guiding light.

There was warmth in his heart from the gesture he offered to Fire. He felt like a kind Samaritan, there helping another. His time with humans, and his lover, had turned his almost selfish ways aside, having them replaced with compassion and kindness approaching equality with that of his bondmate’s. The same kindness Elann showed him, he showed Fire, and would continue to such for as long as they were together.

He knew the roads well, having lived within the city for three years time, and being a courier for a few seasons now. So he led them onward, taking to the side streets to avoid the main, especially near where he found Fire. While he wasn’t an anxious as before, excitement still lingered in his quavering heart. The sadistic thrill of possibly being caught by Fire’s stepfather egged him on and caused him to take to the alleyways. His eyes, in their perceptive gazes, swept the skyline of Syliras’s castle and buildings, leading him to where they needed to go.

“This way,” he ushered to her after her encounter with another walker of the streets. He didn’t pull her along in a harsh way, but his gloved hand was tightly wrapped in hers to provide the leverage, and comfort, he thought she would need at this time.

He brought them to the curving road which would lead to the entrance of the Bazaar held within the castle. As expected the Bazaar was teeming with life and would allow them to lose themselves in the gathering traffic. Noah slowed the pace to a walk, coming more to the side of Fire than leading her. He could hear the chain on her neck clattered coldly against the stepping of several pairs of boots that resounded on the ground around them. Their height gave them the vantage point they needed to peek above the heads of the crowds and part the way with navigational grace and precision. Noah had done so many times before and had become adept at predicting the movements of people in order to find the quickest path through the sea of bodies.

They came through on the other side relatively unscathed. The sea thinned out and allowed them to speed up again, and again Noah led Fire along by the hand. They were on the road between the Maiden and Dyres Districts, swiftly approaching the Nettle District and city gate. White clouds of his breath constantly were expelled from his mouth. His lips were dry and his face was hurting from the exposure. He lacked a hat, but his neck was covered by a scarf, of which he was thankful for.

Traffic picked up again as they exited the road into the opening entrance of gates. Guards strode across the city’s high walls and stood staunchly near the gate’s open maw. That’s where they went, parting the flows of traffic with their thin bodies and her hooded head. They passed the taverns and inns, wallowed through a collection of stalls and buildings. He glanced to the Traveler’s Row’s familiar broadside look embedded into the very wall of the city itself. To their left came the Welcome Center. Beyond that was the gate they so desperately sought.

Noah’s heart pattered heavily in his chest, the adrenaline and thrill having effectively heightened his sense of awareness and sped his predatory eyes to dart about. He joined them with a group of civilians going out of the gate as to avoid any skeptical glares from the guards. They descended down the ramp just outside the gate and broke away from the group he melded them to. That’s when they stopped, him turning around to better view her. “This should be good, right?” he asked, looking around them for anyone seemingly suspect. He didn’t know what her stepfather looked like, but if they were seen by the unknown man, he surely would’ve been pursuing them by now. Noah didn’t know whether to feel safe or not. His home wasn’t too far away now, but he was ignorant of what awaited him once he stepped back into the city without Fire in tow.

“I live in the Traveler’s Row,” he told her. “If you need anything else, you can come there, okay?” He wasn’t certain if he would see Fire again, but should she need further assistance, he would give it. He clasped her hands in his for a moment longer, lingering with a cautiously quivering protectiveness. “You’ll be okay,” he assured. Not knowing if he believed the words himself, he knew what hope could do for the soul, false or not. “Take care of yourself, Fire. Remember, my name is Noah.”

[Firenze]

His leathered hand wrapped around her’s and gave comfort, even it were only to be briefly. Feeling his presence next to her, the heat from his body lightly brushing against hers, the crowd began to thicken. Eyes scanned the building, the street teemed with people. How had she not noticed this on the way in?

Heart raced in her chest, anxiety peeking to a point threatening to overwhelm. Was he here? In the bodies that swarmed as though bees in a hive? She watched the crowd that enveloped them, swallowing them whole. The only comfort was the leather brushing her skin, guiding her. Once they’d escaped the suffocating grasp of the sea of people she allowed herself a slightl breath of relief, if only briefly.

Attention turned from one obstacle to another. Thoughts strayed to the man standing next to her and what he might be feeling during the whole strange situation. She couldn’t even imagine. How would she feel finding a half naked woman lying on the floor bound and collared screaming for help? Would she help? Could she? It was quite possible. The amount of kindness that he’d shown her was something she feared she’d not be able to repay, no matter how much she wanted. It wasn’t as though she didn’t want to repay him, it was that her focus was getting the city of Syliras as far behind her as possible. It was going to be quite difficult, winter was not kind this year. One thing she knew was that she’d rather die trying then have to see what Vinicus had next up his sleeve.

Her mind threatened with the memories, with a shake of her head she dismissed them. Eyes watered as the cold whipped at her face. They’d cut a path through another area and she was feeling lost, her hand gripped the leather tighter. As soon as they passed a row of buildings the entrance came into view. That was something she recognized. Worry began to creep in as they neared. They were so close, could it be ripped away?

Time felt as though it slowed to a crawl as they passed through the entrance to the city. A city that, up until that point, had felt suffocating. Taking in a deep breath, hoping to slow the pounding heartbeat in her ears, the sweet scent with the mix of chill filtered through her nostrils. Eyes watched as the man who’d been her savior turned. Soft words were given, reassuring that the heart that beat within him spoke volumes of his kind and gentle nature.

A nod came to acknowledge the security that could be found at Travler’s Row should she see herself within the stone walls. He gave his name and reassurance. “Thank you,” was the best that she could choke out as tears threatened to resurface, restricting the words in her throat. She hoped that she’d not see them again, that she wouldn’t need another favor. Golden eyes watched the back of the man as he returned to the fortress that loomed before her. Unfortunately one could never be sure where life took them.

Others | Firenze | Thoughts

[Noah Amuel]

What was he to do, he wondered. Noah had escorted Fire just outside of the gates of Syliras, a castle city that he once thought impenetrable by maliciously minded peoples. It was almost jarring to see that it was required of him to rescue someone from a terrible fate. Did the deities in the heavens have something against Fire to forsake her as the captive of another, the captive of someone supposed to be dear? Step-father, she had said; her step-father did it to her, held her captive, unwashed, perhaps unfed as well. He mentally shuddered at the thought. Syliras was supposed to be safe, the Knights were supposed to protect people. Were they slacking in their own duties that they couldn’t see the danger held inside Fire’s step-father? He, that man, walked the very streets of Syliras now, probably on his way back to the apartment Noah found Fire in. He would find the door open, his candles robbed of their flame, the heat sapped from the room by the cold. Noah reveled quietly in that fact, a slight tease of vengefulness piquing in his belly.

She stood before him a small way off from the ramp leading back to the main gates. There was an iron collar still around her neck, the lock to it cold like the air around them. The key hadn’t been found. Given the way she had tore the room up looking for clothes to put on in order to face the briskness of winter, the key should’ve turned up in that scurry. It didn’t, leading Noah to believe her step-father had the key still. How he wished he could report that man, how he wished he had the key to free her from the last visible shackles of captivity.

Noah knew what it was like to be reminded of one’s previous isolation. In early autumn Noah had a run in with a lone wolf. Though he managed to retain his life, he didn’t do so without bodily harm to his person. His loss of blood, and temporary ability within his leg, grounded him for several weeks. He was forced to recover, forced to be looked after by both a doctor, Devi, and his now-loved one, Elann. The scars remained on his afflicted leg. He could walk, he could fly, and he could keep himself from isolation, but the scars remained. So long as Fire had the iron shackle around her neck she would remember the terrible memories accrued during her captivity. Her physical reminder, however, could eventually be rid of. His scars could not.

“Thank you,” she said. The words seemed to rob her of any other will to speak. He did not blame her. Fire’s ordeal had been enough for the both of them. Noah didn’t go through the terror with her, but something within her was able to refract clearly enough within him.

Noah nodded his head, humming in welcome. The breeze played with the tussled curls of his hair, billowed out against Fire’s raised hood. She was safe now, or so he believed, so he hoped.

“Stay strong,” he told her, parroting the words of his mother spoken to him when he was leaving Zeltiva for Syliras years ago.

He turned, moving to walk back towards the gates of the city. After several steps he looked back at her, saw her watching him leave her there in the road. Part of him wanted to beg her to come with him; he wanted to expose her to the kindness of his bondmate. Elann would take care of Fire much in the same way she took care of Noah. He thought his bondmate was extraordinarily selfless, more than happy to take Fire in. He knew, though, that he could not. Something was pushing them away from one another. Their paths needed to divulge here and now.

Noah faced front again, threw up his own hood to shield his nape from the frosty winds. It remained to be seen if they would cross paths again. A part of him hoped they would, another hoped not. If the circumstances were as dire, dangerous, and convoluted as this, he hoped he never saw her again. Still, he wished her the best. Stay strong, he thought.