Young Writers Society

Arose licked her lips as she turned around, glancing briefly at Amerine. "Follow me, we're leaving. Now." she ground between clenched teeth, her silken cloak wrapped tightly around her bodice. She raised a hand to brush away a tangle of hemp-like hair.

Amerine followed, without complaint, as she raised her hood and covered her locks of fair chestnut coloured hair. One hand gripped the young girl's cloak, as she shivered against the cold wind that rose as though the earth's breath. She glanced back and sighed, removing her cloak and draping it over the young princess' shoulders who looked thankful if a bit embarassed. "Don't worry, I'm fine," the older woman answered as Amerine opened her mouth to speak. Her long black dress that she had recently changed into, billowed out in the wind and the lace-made sleeves opened into wide v's that descended towards her elbow.

Arose quietly marched down the deserted road, her eyes darting forth and back as she passed every intersection and it wasn't long before she spotted the hunched, dark figure approaching rapidly. She pushed the princess to her side, the girl letting out a small cry of surprise. The man looked up quickly, spotting them and instead bowing his head and continuing onwards.

"Stop!" she growled, and the man immediately halted his walk, though keeping his head bowed.

"Wha' is it, miss?" he asked as she arrived to stand before him.

"Where is it you're going?" she inquired, her tone polite in manner of inquiry.

"Jus' passin' through to go off home,"

"Where is it your coming from?"

"Lohsael's home, I just off-ed and delivered a message to 'im," the man replied.

Arose bit the inside of her cheek, "What was the message?"

"Can't say, I 'on't know," was his answer before he dipped his head as she stepped away to allow him to pass.

"Thank you, sir. Safe journey homeward bound," she farewelled, gripping Amerine's upper arm tightly as she steered them down another street.

A rough wind blew and Arose watched as her scarf flew from her shoulders and landed back in the midst of the street, but the distant neigh of a horse and squeal of a carriage brought her better than to return to get it. Arose sighed, she had liked that scarf - it was the one she'd worn during the masquarade ball when she'd danced with Lilin Lohsael.

Dana slept until nightfall, then climbed down the tree only to escape to his cottage. He made sure Lilin wasn't following him, since he knew the witch hunter might be asking questions about the list. Already Dana was in a heap because he made a deal with a witch hunter and a witch. He found this day too stressful for him to handle. As he entered his cottage, he dug in his travelling cloak- which has been in the cottage since he came here- and found his blood-stained dagger. It brought him trouble since he used it to murder his unfaithful father for sending his mother to her death, but the dagger was a constant reminder of Dana's revenge upon Lord Charles.
Since Lord Charles hated young Dana, the former tried to kill the latter for not staying in the house like he was supposed to. Lady Mia- Dana's mother- was brave enough to defy her husband and help her son develop a childhood. Dana was ten when Lord Charles attempted to drown him and it was two months later when Lady Mia was murdered- by the orders of her unfaithful husband. Dana was eighteen when he found out of his father's infidelity, so the young man stabbed his father until the latter was dead and the former was on the run ever since.
Now that he was away from Melliana, Dana was hoping to have a fresh start in his life. So far, that attempt is beyound his reach. He laid still in his bath, his eyes closed as he brooded on the deed that he done six years ago. To those who knew him as The Reaper, his patricide will be the end of him someday; to Dana, justice was already served and his mother's death was aveneged. Still in his bath and still brooding, he slept where he was, a sense of peace falling upon him and easing his restless mind.