MariusBonaparte

(Author's Note: Well, this is pretty much an aborted work of fantasy fiction. It's in rough draft form so less than clean in presentation but I hope maybe someone enjoys something about it, or could give me advice on how to make it better.)

Carnage, in purest form, pulsated through the burning homes of the simplest earthern forms. A young boy peeked through the crack in the floor to the world above, where his mother had a foul creature with skin of green and excrement take his pleasures upon her. Her gagged, tortured response sent chills of weakness through his spine. He couldn't help her.

Minutes and minutes of the awful treatment went by. Then nothing. The creature gave a howl of delight and left. The sound of crackling, burning wood pushed a lump of fear directly into his throat. It welled up uncontrollably and he walked up the hidden stairs.

He looked over to his mother's bed. Completely broken. Expression terrible. Grim.

He walked out of the burning house and saw a warrior in black. The man looked kind, with copper hair falling about his shoulders and a blindfold around his eyes. The man walked towards him and the boy, with eyes red with fallen tears stepped back apprehensively.

A growl emitted from his side. Then it was stifled. The boy looked over and saw that a demon spawn had been killed by a thrown dagger. The man had saved him. All of the boy's anguish came through at that moment and he ran into the blind man's arms. All around him people screamed as lesser demons preyed upon the wounded.

"You have found peace now child, have no fear."

There was comfort for a moment.

Then another tortured cry.

The child twitched within the man's embrace as his teeth sank within his tender young flesh. The bites were venomous, and each weakened him. The blind man laid the child down, and licked the lad's face, relishing the taste of tears. Then it commenced with his meal as the raid's smoke drifted to the western lands.

* * *

She entered the tavern with a bit of reluctance, to the gruff laughter of drinking men, the giggles of women, and the song of a bard catching her ear. The smell of roasting meat in her nose. She reached into the acolyte given to her by a priest of Darala, the Lady of Justice and Compassion, and fished out a few silver pieces.

It will be enough to purchase a meal.

Raina walked over to the bartender, taking great cares to hide her face from the world. The priest did more than most by giving her this robe, and telling her to hide her identity with it by claiming she was one of the female acolytes of the Order who were supposed to take a year of silence. What the priest really meant was "Hide your face, for it is disgusting."

At least this was what she thought.

The bartender was a thin man, who looked to be wearied by the exceptional amount of business he was receiving. He noted her frame and he smiled.

"Hello there lassy, what can I be gettin ya?" he asked with a friendly smile.

"I would like something to eat. Do you have anything for less than fifteen silver?" she asked with a softness in her voice coming from the last couple years of uncertainty and worry that even her very voice would give away her ugliness.

The bartender tried to peer inside her hood to see her face.

"Well lassy, I suppose I do, but I think it would be wrong of me to take money from such a soft spoken and I'm sure very pretty young lass that is a cleric to boot! I will give you the finest dish in the house, free of charge!"

"That isn't necessary..." she tried to protest, shifting uncomfortably. The last thing she wanted was people making her out to be a social figure like an Acolyte.

"Nonsense! I insist." The bartender said.

He smiled again and ran into the back to order something for her. Roasted swine, she heard. She looked around, and noticed lovers in love. They would kiss, laugh, and embrace eachother. It made her begin to remember her love.

The memories were quick, vicious. Almost as vicious as the act itself committed against her. Jagged things that cut her mind as if they were bursting glass.

He held her tight as they looked over the city. The panorama was gorgeous. The homes, made of white stone, glistened with the torchlight casted along the streets. She was dressed beautifully, a scarlet colored silky dress that allowed the warm summer air to run through it. His fingers twirled around the golden chain that held the amulet she wore around her neck to signify her position, the Duchess of Alesia.

"Isn't the view amazing, my love?"

"Truly, it is amazing. This city is like one I imagined in my dreams as a little girl. I wonder why I got so lucky to have you."

"Because we were meant to be. The Great Goddess put us together."

Of course, it wasn't until it was too late that it was all a lie.

"Jordan, please...don't do this."

Her face was drenched in tears, she had just witnessed the terrible act herself. Her baby girl forever silenced by a black dagger through its fragile chest.

"I'm sorry, but blood must be paid for my survival. Your child didn't satisfy the needs of my master, and now you shall be punished. You lied about your purity..."

"No...no I didn't.." she stammered, choking with the sobs that shook her body. She cringed and leaned into a corner.

His changed to a malicious yellow. His nature was finally revealed. A demon. Or a man possessed by them. His voice was becoming more unnatural with every spoken word, a horrible hissing sound that caused her spine to quake. Jordan laughed as he brought a hand casually up to her neck, pinning her against the wall. She struggled and kicked.

"Now Raina, you are quite fortunate. My master tells me that you need only to suffer. And suffer you shall. I shall use your face to paint my portrait of Hell."

Her hand shot up to the scar that marked the very first cut. Tears of renewed anguish trickled down her face. Jordan, her husband, not only cut her face that night, but sadastically burned, tortured, and defiled her in every way. On many nights, she began to pray for death but it never came. Finally, she was delivered when the old and wise Gregor the stableman came to her rescue. He took her down a secret catacomb, and ushered her through it. He had seen enough of the torture of wives during the last thirty years of serving his master, and he finally decided to save her from the same horrible fate.

Sadly, he couldn't ride with her that night. They heard the dark underlings of her husband arrive. He slapped the hindquarters of her horse, telling her to ride until the beast couldn't ride any more, and to not look back. Raina did as she was told, and the last she heard of friendly Gregor was his screams as the Turaj demons falling upon him.

It was the last act of genuine kindness she had seen since. In the last thirteen years, she avoided mercenaries, using her knowledge of the outdoors that she gained as a little girl living in them for years. She also learned to use the bow proficiently as she rode to the south, towards the free lands. It was there that many city states were said to thrive. She feared for this land, and others as she remembered why her husband had so used her but all she could do is run from that past, and try to avoid people in the present.

In some ways, she began to believe that such an uncaring world that rejected her because of her face and body deserved to fall to the demons when her husband found the perfect mate for his dark Master. Goddess help them all.

Her thinking was broken up by a voice," There ye go lass. One leg of roasted swine with garlic sauce, and a cup of our finest ale!"

Although she never really enjoyed meat as much as others she did find its fragrance quite intoxicating because of the ignored hunger pangs that were allowed to emerge with the scent of the food. Her eyes met with the bartender's and she nodded.

"It smells wonderful. Thank you so much for your kindness."

The bartender laughed, "I'm sure I'm not the only one that shows such kindness to the pure ladies of the Order. You just enjoy your meal now you hear?"

She found the bartender's laughter slightly infectious, and she was able to push out a small laugh from her lips. She just began to loosen up when a voice behind her shouted.

"Hey lassy, a lovely thing like yourself shouldn't be hidin in those priest robes!"

She tried to ignore him.

"I'm talking to you, lady!"

The bartender tried to speak up in her defense, but even his voice quaked with uncertainty.

"Please Oren, leave her be..."

She already presumed this man was some threatening force, and she unconciously could feel him behind her, a large man that was to be feared. The bartender suddenly quieted, and stepped back.

"Please...I am an acolyte...this is hardly a conversation that.."

"Oh don't be shy," he said as he grabbed her shoulder and turned her around.

She looked up at him with her green eyes.

"Please take your hand off of me," she said as calmly as she tried to push his hand off her.

"I didn't say you could touch me, wench!"

He slapped her hard across the face, and she fell off the stool onto the ground. She reeled from the blow just as the tall man pulled her up by neck gruffly. She looked up to see what would have been a handsome face, if not for the cruel way he was treating her. She wondered why he couldn't have just found some other woman that he could charm with his obvious physical good shape, but that thought slipped into panic as one of his large hands rested on the top of her head.

"Now let's see your face," and with that he ripped her hood back, exposing her for everyone

Everyone gasped at once.

"Well well well...I guess there was a good reason why she wore the hood eh boys?"

The other men laughed, some out of the same malicious heart and others because of the terror that they had from his intimidating form. Her eyes darted around the room for someone to help, but because of both the lack of it and tears of embarassment her beautiful green eyes caught no sign of assistance. He pulled at her hair, and threw her face down on a table.

"Well, her face isn't much to look at. How about the rest of her?"

It was then she felt him pull up the back her robe, and heard a knife beginning to slice through the woolen fabric.

Please, Goddess...please help me...not again.

She tried to lift herself up as the knife cut her robe to her feet. She kicked back and caught him on the face. He made an annoyed sound and punched her hard in the spine, causing the air to be forced out of her lungs.

"Don't fight it, it's the only attention an ugly whore like you is going to get. Everyone, tonight the drinks and the entertainment is on me and my pretty little priestess friend.Come on boys, come and take your place in line."

She heard the footsteps of the other men walking over. None of them seemed to be helping her, and she continued to pray as her world was only that of cold brown wood of the table and the lights from receiving such painful blows.

Please sweet Lady of Order, don't let him do this. Please help me. Please...not again...please...

All she heard were the laughter of the men as they begin to grope at her, and pull at her robe.

"Well, she's not looking too bad with the rest of her. In fact, it's a shame her face is so ugly."

Someone...please....

Then she heard a different voice. It was belonging to a man, and from her muffled hearing she could detect the dignity within it.

"That is enough. Release her now."

The pressure of hands holding her down was lessened and she was able to fight her way free. It seems all the men were looking at her benefactor. He was a lean, muscular man that wore all grey. His face was covered by a mask, but his piercing eyes that of an ocean blue and overcast skies matched their stare.

"Now...desist, or continue and die. I challenge any man that desires to infringe upon her honor."

"She isn't a woman! Just a creature. Look at her face man. Why don't you just take a turn with her too?"

The large man gestured towards her.

"What I see is a human being. And no human, especially a lady, deserves such disrespect. I only offer you the chance now, you tall, disgusting troll of a man, to step away from her and leave her in peace. Or I will see to it that you face the Gods for your crimes."

The giant of man shouted in anger and ran over to a table to grab a large cudgel.

"Get him boys!"

Raina had meanwhile tried to recollect her robes and simple under garments back together. She only saw as that these men, friends of Oren, closed in around the grey man.

"Very well then...it seems that I must render judgement myself."

With that, the first of Oren's dozen friends leapt at him as Raina began to worry about this man who came to her rescue...

MariusBonaparte

Raina's worries were replaced by a sense of wonder. This man, who was incredibly agile, side stepped and pushed the lunging man down hard. The man crashed into the tables behind him. Another man lunged towards him with a dagger in his hand. The Gray Man again leapt to the side, twisted his arm to make it break which sent the the knife straight up in the air just in time for him to kick the man out of his way, and let him twirl acrobatically to kick the blade's handle and send it flying quickly into the side of another man.

The man who was kicked joined back in again, only to have his other arm broken. He screamed out in pain and thrashed upon the ground. The others fell under a flurry of fists that were just dazzling to the eyes of Raina. Another man got a lucky swipe and cut the Gray Man's arm. He grunted with a bit of pain, but went on as it didn't phase him. None of the men were killed in the following scuffle, but by the end of it, it was left to Gray Man and Oren and a floor full of groaning or unconcious men.

"So...ogre...do you intend to carry on with this? You have a chance to run now. Or you will meet your death, as you are the instigator of the crime against this woman's honor. "

Oren looked around uncertainly. Then he turned around and ran away after a few seconds of thinking about whether he really could take on a man that leveled his friends of various sizes and skill in bar room brawls. He decided that he couldn't and quickly ran away.

The men and women in the bar began to cheer. Then the Gray Man's voice cut them off.

"Silence," the gray man shouted.

Everyone did so.

"There is nothing to cheer about. This place should be quiet as a tomb right now, just as it was when this poor woman was nearly defiled in front of your eyes. What happened here is a crime, not because it happened, but because of your silence."

He said all of this as he walked over to his table, picking up his bag. He pulled out some extra clothes and handed them to her. Then he stood in front of her with his back turned and cape spread so that none besides the bartender could see her changing.

"There is so much evil in this world, and what makes it stronger is the fact that you've all given into your selfish desires and petty judgements that you were willing to let this woman suffer just to save your hides, and to fulfill your sense of being more fortunate than your fellow man that you none of you thought it right to protect her," he admonished the stunned people.

"It is probably cruelty that scarred this woman, those scars from weapons that men created not by birth's design. This cruelty could have happened to any of you, and yet you only make the cruelty that much stronger by not seeking to help those that suffer. Whether or not you wish to believe in demons, they are no further than those who turn their back on those in need. Even an assassin of the Harash knows this. May you remember this day in shame, and may the Gods see to it that you are forgiven for such a life you lead by saying that suffering is acceptable only to those less fortunate than you."

Then he turned to help Raina to her feet. She was shaken, and tried to hide her face.

He whispered through is own mask," Do not be ashamed of what your face looks like, be only ashamed of the world that doesn't look for beauty past that. If only half of them had half the inner beauty that are found in your eyes. Now, are you ready to leave now?"

The words rang with such kindness, that she could only nod yes dumbly. She tried to keep her composure but tears of relief and embarassment rolled down her cheeks. Why was this man kind to her? She wanted to believe that maybe his act was benevolent, but she also doubted him. The fact she doubted him made her feel more ashamed, and more alone than ever.

The two made their way out of the tavern and walked along the street.

"Thank..."

"No need to thank me. I am an evil man and a killer, so you shouldn't think I'm out to be a hero."

She was silent.

"Yet, I will give you my word that you are under my protection as long as we have contact. I will take you to a place where you will be treated well."

They walked to the east of the city, the night sky washed over him. He walked confidently, unlike Raina, who looked from side to side in case of brigands. They eventually came to a monastery.

"I knew you weren't a priestess from the moment I saw you, but if there is anywhere in this world that you are safe from the cruelty of the world, it is here.Not all people can get such an offer."

She looked to the doors, thankful, not sure what to say.

"Why did you help me?"

"Don't concern yourself with why. That is my concern and not yours."

She was terribly confused now. What was she to think of her savior now? He certainly wasn't a man who lived in the light, but he certainly was the only one that bothered to save her.

"You are likewise lucky that I have something that you might need."

He reached inside his bag and produced an ornate looking mask. It was etched with Harash symbols and iconography.

"The recent end of conflict between these lands and the nation of Harash, has stated that ambassadors between the two lands mustn't be harmed in any way shape or form by the populace as they travel to and fro to complete the signing of the treaty proposed by the rulers. One of my victims was such an ambassador, and I kept this mask as a momento. However, I think you might agree that the state of people's mercy might suggest that you need to wear it."

Raina took it from his hands, and he nodded.

"And this. If you are going to be Harash, then you better carry its coins."

He handed her a bag of coins. The bag felt heavy, and upon inspection it turned out to be close to one hundred silver Harash marks. She looked up, quite surprised.

"Don't be so grateful. The only reason you live today is because you interest me. Especially how you came across those scars," he reached out and brushed them with a soft hand, "they hide what was once exceptional beauty. I wonder what warranted such an assault upon that beauty. It seems to be something...less than human."

She had this feeling then he knew exactly what happened to her. His voice said it all, but she didn't speak.

"Now, go."

She walked away from him to the Monastery's doors. She paused for a moment.

"Can I at least know," she began to ask, but noticed he was already gone, "..your name?"

She walked inside the Monastery, and it had a gentle warmth to it. She sat down in a pew until a priest, seeing her wretched condition, offered her a place to sleep. She accepted gratefully, but sleep didn't come easily, as she continued to wonder about this Harash assassin that saved her from being raped, and quite possibly killed. Eventually, exhaustion brought her eyes to a close and she rested peacefully for the first time in nights, despite the pain from the attack. She felt something she hadn't in a while.

She felt...safe.

MariusBonaparte

The Gray Man looked out over the Free Land city of Roebrook, the shining gem of the Province of Lerasha.

Gray Man was what he let others call him based upon the garments he wore. Cyan Amerza was his given name, and he lived a life of peace in the village of Taltree, a part of the nation of Vensa, for twenty five years of his life. The people of his nation hidden amongst the trees belonged to a race of beings the Vanasta. Human in appearance, they were the descendants of a time when several angels decided to leave the heavens to avoid the constant warfare that always threatened the world with complete destruction. For one thousand years they lived with a watchful, yet hidden eye upon the world. They didn't participate in the three wars of man, demon, orc, giant, troll, or elf. As those races destroyed eachother over the last millenia to point of complete extinction, his race flourished. No one could find them in their peaceful haven.

Then one day thirty years ago, Elder Marcus, one of the ten elders met with a demon named Nirakas. He tried to convince the Vanasta to call off their village's policy of not taking sides in the struggle. He sited that the angels no longer respected the world of men, and that the race was shunned by them while the demons admired them. He got three other Elders to concur with this and it was enough. They sided with the demons, and they helped them destroy the others.

Cyan remembered the fall of his village. The burning, the pillaging, the rape. He did his best to fight the demons off, but when they were reinforced by his own kind, the odds were just too much. The warriors of his tribe fell, and he lay dying for fifteen days, playing dead in a pile of corpses and watching how the demons then betrayed the traitors of his race, killing each and every last one of them dead.

It turned out that the demons were trying their best to begin to pave the way for their final victory over the entire world. Threat by threat they worked slowly on extinquishing. They worked methodically, pinning their enemies against eachother with petty differences. The dwarves and elves fighting a terrible war between the mountain kingdom of Doredine, and the elven nations of Lastria and Aledlyn. They arranged the alliance between dwarves and men, and the elves were all but destroyed. Then they played the strings of power to get then those two nations to bicker, while they involved the trolls, the ogres, and the giants in their respective struggles against the two former allies.

Now they had their sights upon the Free Lands. The human nation of Harash, which was one of the greatest havens of demon for the last eight hundred years, sought an alliance with the Free Lands, a collection of provinces that worked collectively some times, but bickered most of the time. Their plans then were to enlist as many Freelanders to join their cause, and they would finally have an army great enough to destroy them all.

As if these weren't grave enough worries, a descendant of the original Demon King Xerandos, Jerdane, had awakened. While some of the demons worked apart from his influence many joined with him outside of Harash to the northern cold realm of Ushtad. His mark was that of a Burning Sun, which was a symbol for the desires of all demons to finally shift the world's power into such disarray that the balance would shift and the sun would be destroyed once and for all, covering the world in darkness.

The saving grace was that these demons still fought amongst themselves. That was why Cyan lived such a good life. As angels, demons, knights, and villains began to start manuevering pieces in this great game against eachother, then he would stay in business. When he wasn't killing people he lived quite lavishly in his own section of land in Harash, Drac Calthis. It was there that he lived with servants to attend to his every whim, as the Duke of that territory. While such wealth was nice, he still kept the hateful image of demons in his mind and he slowly inched closer and closer to both Nirakas and Jerdane. He already earned Nirakas' trust, and now, he was going to remove Jerdane from existence.

That was why he found this woman so interesting. When Oren was ripping her garments off her body, he noticed a tatoo of the Burning Sun upon the woman's back. That was why he gave her the mask of a Harash Ambassador. He knew that in time the Jerdan demons, those loyal to Jerdane, would seek out an amateur ambassador to capture and torture for information. He then could step in to save her once again, gain her trust, and learn where Jerdane situated himself in Ushtad. Perhaps he could even convince her to show him where exactly it was. Either way, he knew that demons would most likely burn the church done which would satisfy his other desire of attracting the Angels to the area. The burning down of a sacred monastery always awakened one or two from their slumber, but as a descendant of angels he was incapable of burning them down himself. Perhaps he could learn what the Angels were doing, and sell that information to the demons, or have the Angels pay to keep such information secret.

Although he swore to make both demons and angels pay for their terrible war, he still felt remorse for planning such betrayals, but in the end, the only side he knew was his own. Yet there was something about the scarred woman that evoked a sense of pity. It would be a shame that he would try to deliver her right back into the hands of the demons that made her so deformed. Then again, she hadn't done anything for him...besides profiting him immensely by staying alive. He kept an eye on the monastery from a tall building, and his seeing scope.

She would end up benefitting him greatly indeed.

MariusBonaparte

Charming. Attractive. Brave. Resourceful.

All of these the compliments that he had received over the years, but the great "Rogue Bard" Roberto Delametra couldn't hear it enough. The swashbuckling, singing, and savvy pirate had a way of making every man in the room despise him, and even the most innocent woman to surprise him. He rode in on a brilliant white steed that he named Roderigo, and nicknamed Wind Rider.

Roberto arrived in Roebrook on that warm spring day, and looked around at all the women going to and fro from the shops. Some with husbands, others with lovers, and all couldn't take their eyes off the fetching bard with broad muscular shoulders, a sly smile, long golden hair that often surpassed theirs in how it shined and blue eyes that could melt a mountain to just a tiny stone.

How I miss thee, dear Eleanor!

How I wish to see thee once more,

yet I am at a loss without you,

the way that summer skies blue

couldn't even compare to the way

that you made with a smile, my day.

Came the sweet singing voice that washed over the market square. One woman had to sit at the very swoon that the tenor voice brought to her body. He looked at her, and gave a smile while he continued to sing. She giggled at the very sight of him. She must have had only seventeen or eighteen years to her. At thirty two, Roberto decided that was his favorite age. Young, curious damsels were often so....spirited in the bedroom, once a man could touch the right spots.

He began a new song as he continued to trot by on his horse.

To dance a dance with you

would seal a love so true.

To have just one lovely night

with you to kiss me, I might

just have to give all a man can give

for without one kiss from you, how can a man live?

The damsel, throwing all thoughts of being lady like to the wind and walked up to him as he slowed down.

"Yes my dear?"

The young woman with red hair and full lips nearly wrested him from his steed and kissed him full on the lips. He stood two heads taller than she and she rested her hands upon his chest.

"Come see me later?"

Roberto laughed, "Of course, but where my dear? Would you like to come to my room at the Red Satyr?"

"Yes....anything you want."

"Emily! What are you doing?"

The voice brought Roberto's eyes attention behind them where it seemed Emily had a very irate, and jealous husband.

"Oh dear, another wrecked home. Well, my sparkling damsel of ruby hair, I shall hope again to see your face so fair. I will be at the Red Satyr, I shall see you there."

With that, he quickly leapt onto his steed and galloped away, leaving the young damsel behind to try to explain that the man mistook her for someone else as she was thinking about just what Robert was going to do with her later that evening. Roberto, on the other hand, certainly had no intentions of even showing at the Red Satyr. Afterall, why have one married woman that could bring him nothing but trouble when he can go to the Green Leaf Inn, and have two or three women.

And to think a man once told him that bards were always neglected.

MariusBonaparte

Raina reluctantly entered the town square bearing the Harash mask over her face. As she walked by, she saw some people give gestures of respect, some even bowed and said, "Mi'lady."

She had missed such wonderful treatment when she was once a noblewoman, yet knowing that she was none other than one of the people that bowed to her now, and knowing that she used to be like them before she was noble, caused a bit of heartache on her part. Now she was something noble, fake, and respected once more. How easy was it for people to respect the most superficial things in life, she thought.

The town square was bustling with shops and people scurrying like ants to and fro across their center of living. Merchants sold their wares, peasants wearing the simplest of tunics to the rich wearing silky garbs walked here and there. Some laughing. Some yelling in anger. Some calling for the city guard. It was civilization at its worst and finest.

Raina, despite her new guise, worriedly looked around at the people, fearing they might somehow recgonize her or have a problem with her because of the mask's affiliation. She noticed one man with raven black hair and eyes wearing the same colors who seemed to take a special interest in her. She watched him likewise, and almost was trampled.

"Whoa there!!" a man's voice was heard in front of her, and she felt a brush of air as horse hooves nearly struck her face. She turned to see a man fall from his steed onto his back with an oomf.

She was shocked, but looked again for that man and noticed he was gone. Then she drew her attention to the man.

"Oh, I'm so sorry.." she apologized.

"Nothing hurt, save my pride," the man grunted as he stood up, " you really ought to be more careful..."

The handsome man of long golden blond hair and blue eyes addressed her.

"Good heavens, here I stand in front of a noble ambassador of Harash. My apologies, good lady."

She nodded, "No, it was I who walked in your path. It is I who owes you an apology."

The man studied her mask but a moment, "Apology accepted only if you accept mine as well, most noble Harash Lady."

"Accepted, but you need not call me noble. I am just an ambassador, I don't look for such overwhelming respect. "

The man laughed a bit, " Aye, but without ambassadors there would be no goodwill or civilized war between men so you do indeed deserve praise. However, if I cannot praise your status, then I will praise your eyes. They are the most beautiful I have ever seen."

"Well...umm...thank you."

Behind her mask, the scars shone red with a blush. So long had it been since a man gave her a comment on any sort of beauty she possessed. His smile only seemed to amplify the feelings of nervousness and embarassment she had.

"Would you care to ride with me, fair Harash woman?"

Before she could reply, he added, "Oh! how rude of me. I am Roberto Delamatra, the Golden Bard of Terasai, at your service."

He kneeled, took her hand, and gave it a kiss.

"You honor me far too much bard, I am less than fair."

"Nay, your eyes speak much of your soul, and whatever hides behind your mask could possibly damage such beauty."

That comment sent a shiver up her spine. The words seemed so well placed, so smooth and elegant like the delicate glassworks pawned in the marketplace.

"Well, a bard you are then, dear Roberto. Your words are as sweet as honey, yet, I fear a bee might sting me if I dare to taste them any further."

Roberto's smile continue to melt away some layers of ice that had formed around her heart from the world so cold, and he replied, "Then let my words be not a thing laden with worry like the honey from bees, but let them instead be a gift that I give freely. And I seek not to embarass thee, mi'lady, but I would be honored if you could accompany. I sense a fairness from you that I have so rarely seen."

His smile seemed sincere enough. Raina thought against it, but a voice broke past what barriers her lips might be and she responded, "I shall accept your invitation, most talented Bard, but I must warn you I am not a woman to be trifled with."

She had to act the part of a cunning ambassador woman, she supposed that meekness would only give him license to speak such flowery words to charm her any further. Raina still knew thought that she was already charmed.

"Then let me help you onto my faithful steed, Roderigo. No truer horse will you find than he."

She consented and he pushed her up unto the horse. Then with a quick leap he joined her upon the steed. Then they began their ride through the city.

Guard your heart, Raina. It's the only thing you have left, she thought as they ventured into the city.

He began to sing, and it put her further at ease despite her own warnings. Her arms wrapped around him to keep herself from falling. Yet she relished the feeling of a strong body once again. She thought that enjoying his company for too long would be sheer folly, but she enjoyed it for the present. For one simple reason, for once in a long while, a man had made her again feel beautiful.