Young Writers Society

Queen Isabella:

I pursed my lips as I discovered what was going on. The guards at every turn were a dead give away. Cornelius had made this decision without me, a decision I would have objected to, but I still wished he had consulted with me prior to sending these guards crawling around our palace.

Gathering the blue skirt of my dress into my hand, I hurried towards the most likely place Cornelius would be. Before reaching the room, I actually ran into him in the hallway.

Cornelius' eyes looked a mixture of guilt and accomplishment when he noticed it was me. Unpursing my lips, I reached for his hands and took them in mine, getting close to him so no one else could hear.

Looking up at his strong face and into his clear gray eyes, I said in an even more hushed than usual voice, "Cornelius..."

Taylor:

My brown satchel on my back, I scanned the crowd. Amongst the group of people in the market, there were few people with Redward's description. But what made him easier to find was the fact that he was looking at the criminal list, which of course he wasn't doing undiscretley, but I had the list my self, so it looked familiar.

Confidentally, I pushed my way through people, recieving dirty looks, towards him. I knew odds were he'd be against working with a female, but working with him wouldn't exactly be a picnic. But at least he gets things done from what I've heard.

Finally, I reached him. When he didn't look up, I offered my hand and said confidentally, "Taylor Morning, your partner. You're Redward Winsal, correct?"

Without waiting for a response, I continued, "So, we will be going for the higher numbers. I like big game, and from what I've heard, you do too."

For a moment, he squinted at me, looked me over, then finally asked, "How old are you again?"

I waved him off and replied, "Irrelevant. All that matters is that I'm strong, I can fight, I'm fast, and I'm smart. My age and gender have nothing to do with anything. Now," Taking out my papers I continued, "I suggest we get a move on it, because if we want the big game, we gotta get started before everyone else."

*Too pushy? If so, just say so and I'll change it. This is just how Taylor is. If you want to add in comments here and there, feel free.*

Shep:

Male. Dark hair. Dark eyes. Young. Strong build. I wrote these details on a piece of parchment, on which I'd written the same words a thousand other times. This description is all I remember of the man that murdered my family, all I could see through the basket. Looking up from the parchment, I squinted my eyes at the sun. Giving a sigh, I folded up the parchment and stuck it into my satchel. So many hourse I've spent on this, so many faces I've searched, and I never get any closer to discovering who the man was. There are just too many people out there. For all I know I could be searching for a dead man. But his face...it was like no other and I longed for the day I could see it once again. After all, that's part of the reason I resorted to criminalism.

As I stood up, stolen apple in hand, I began to weave through the crowd, and I wondered. If I do see this man again, would he recognize me? Probably not, it's been nearly ten years, and he never actually saw me, only my family. Though, I did look a lot like Sara.

Suddenly, something caught my attention, pulling me from my thoughts. Taking a bite from the red apple, I pushed my hair from my eyes. Prince Casamir. Penelope was headed right towards him. I quickened my pace and caught up to her. Grabbing her by the elbow, and nearly getting my nose bashed into my face for it, dodging away just soon enough so she'd miss my nose, but not soon enough for her to miss hitting me in the eye.

When she realized it was me, her face softened and she looked a tad guilty. One hand still on her elbow, I used the other to reach up to my eye and feel around where she hit me. It may bruise a little, but she didn't hit hard enough for it to last too long.

Blinking a few times, I finally said, "Well, that just did nothing but make more conspicuous, on top of your already suspicious appearance."

"I'm sorry." She said quickly, her eyes shifting over to the prince and his companion, from the looks of it a soldier.

Shaking my head, I chuckled, and buried us into the crowd. We were less likely to be spotted in a crowd, and if we were we would be harder to get to. Only people who have lived on the streets for years know how to get through the streets and the people with much ease.

"Follow me." I said to Penelope, letting go of her arm and letting her decide to follow me or keep heading straight towards the captors.

Penelope Hart

As I headed towards Prince Casamir, a strong grip held me back. Almost bashing someone in the nose, I turn around, fists ready to fight. Once I found out who held me back, I let out a breath. It was just Shep. He looked confused at what I was going to do. I wasn't going to do much, I was just going to walk past Prince Casamir, simple. I look at Shep, who was nursing his eye. Oops, I guess I did hit him.

"Well, that just did nothing but make more conspicuous, on top of your already suspicious appearance," he said, touching his eye.

"I'm sorry," I reply. Shep responded with a chuckle and dragged me somewhere in the crows. He let go of me. "Follow me," he said, walking off and leaving me with a choice.

Rolling my eyes, I follow him to wherever he was leading me to. I tightened my fist, looking around to see if there were anyone who looked like an attacker. I start to give a strange aura to ward them off easily.

Casimir | Markets:

I stormed away from him, but didn't make it look like I was. He didn't need to know how frustrated I was. Poor boy. Probably confused him all to hell, but it was worth it. He would follow me, not that I'd let him believe that I thought he wouldn't have. I took no notice of the peasants around me, no notices of the scuffles and minor verbal fights going on. I even ignored the stall holder selling their wares.

There was more important things to be doing, and one of those was finding the criminals on the list. I glanced over my shoulder to check on Aarin. The soldier had only just started moving. And he was limping. I frowned and turned my attention
back on where I was going. There was a den around here somewhere. I'd seen it on my escapades as a young man.

But something was bugging me. Why did Aarin have a limp?


Aarin | Markets:

I watched as the prince reached the far side of the markets, pausing for a moment. I moved to follow but a scuffle to the side caught my attention; a young girl was being dragged away by a man. I frowned at them, head tilted to one side.They seemed to be arguing. They disappeared into the crowd and I blinked, shaking my head. Odd, I thought and returned my attention to the prince.

Prince Casimir stood watching me from over his shoulder. I stared at him, then realised that I wasn't moving and picked up the pace. I swiftly joined him and he continued on, ignoring everyone the way royalty seemed to do. I shook my head and follow him as he ducked down an alley and stopped.

"It should be here," he muttered, turning to study the walls. "Somewhere...around...here."

I watched as he searched the alley walls for a moment then asked, "What should be here?"

He gave me a scathing look. "A door."

Huh? A door? To what? Was that the only reason he'd give me. I stared as he paced to the far end of the alley, which just happened to be a dead end. Wonderful. The prince was insane. "That leads....where?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.

The prince turned to face me. "Why do you have a limp?"

I froze, the question catching me completely off guard. He had turned the conversation around--to me. I scowled at him, realizing what he was trying to do. "Old wound," I muttered, waving a hand at him. "Why are we looking for a door and where does it lead?"

He glared at me and I glared right back, refusing to answer him until he answered my question.