As the Cockerel Crows [Darian please]

[Amelia Lynsdaughter]

Master Adjuration level up

Sometime in Summer, Era 14

The journey back from Vortex had been long and tiresome, not to mention the assault of sunlight on blue eyes grown unaccustomed to its power in the depths of Har'oloth. The dark elves and their underground abode had been a source of many experiences, all of them novel, some unpleasant, many educational. With the obsidian corridors of the abyss behind her, Amelia found herself in Nexus Prime once more, walking down familiar streets, spotting familiar vendors and hearing familiar sounds. Nexus was a harsh city, but one with a moral code that she understood. Vortex... Vortex was the twilight when all shadows were long and all things looked alike.

In all honesty, however, the one thing Amelia truly missed that Nexus had and Vortex didn't, was the sea, a comforting presence that had always followed the Outlaw throughout her wanderings. She often marveled at how people could live far away from its immensity without being driven insane. Maybe they couldn't. Amelia would not be surprised. But Materna, Nexus almost looked nice when one had only recently emerged from Vortex. Far off in the distance, outside the walls, were the remains of the house where she had almost died. On her right, the woods where she had almost died. A little past the gates, the street where she had almost died. A nice city.

Traversing the Jasmine District with her luggage, three things became very apparent to the young half-elf. First, she was hungry. Second, she wanted to take a long bath. And third, she could use a glorious, uninterrupted period of sleep. There would be plenty of time to do the laundry tomorrow... and listen to the news, of course. Shiandi would probably want some kind of report, and she would have to decide exactly how much she could and should tell her. For all she knew, Shiandi might have contacts among the Vysstichi - if the one-eyed pirate, Snake, was to be believed, she had dealings with the pirates who had dealings with the dark elves. Amelia would not put it past Shiandi. She would not put anything past her.

Hat neatly placed on her light chestnut head, the girl made her way through the garden of the Ablutos and into the manor. If she was lucky, she would find only servants along the way. If she was unlucky, she may chance upon director Agamon or Shiandi herself. Or if she was incredibly unlucky, Christianne. Amelia did not really want to see anyone right now... her experiences in Vortex still needed to be assimilated in full. Something still tugged uncomfortably at the edges of her conscience, and she was unsure what it was. Maybe teaching Anora and seeing herself reflected in her was the reason. Or maybe her making deals with such corrupt people as Dimitri without any hesitation or regret - simply because it was the most rewarding choice, and she knew it. Maybe because she'd rather share a stone vault with the Hayans than a manor with her teacher. Maybe because the practices she had seen in Har'oloth had made a more lasting impression on her than she wanted them to.

Regardless, the pale Adjurator still needed the aforementioned three things. Everything would be just peachy tomorrow. This was not home and could never be, but it was a house; four walls and one roof. Things could be worse, much worse.

[Darian]

Amelia was left without having to deal with Christianne, even Agamon and Shiandi were avoided that darkening and the only greeting she got was a small nod from Nei as she headed back into the kitchen, arms preoccupied with a rather large basket of some root vegetable or other. There was little noise in the house, in truth there was no one to be seen but the servants wandering the corridors and keeping everything in order.

And so it went for the next cycle or so. Shiandi left her messages through the servants about tasks she might attend to during the brightening, helping the gardener prune the bushes, washing the floors and so on and so forth. Shiandi and her family was rarely seen, except when it was time for pracenda, she did not speak though and but for Agamon's stories of his days at sea they would have been woefully silent affairs. Shiandi merely sat at her end of the table and studied her apprentice with eyes which seemed to weigh the half-Vagaran up and find her lacking. Attempting to incite any kind of dialogue merely led to a raised eyebrow and Agamon moving over into another one of his stories, the sulking Christianne could usually be found glowering at Amelia during these sessions, usually bedecked in some luxurious piece of clothing that seemed to fit her all too well. Her brother though was hardly to be found, as he was still out of favour with his father, he was rarely seen.

She got her wish it seemed, no undue interaction with the family, Christianne merely sniffed and headed off in another direction on meeting her, clearly not wanting to speak to a commoner like Amelia. Agamon for his part, when he met her outside of mealtimes often stopped to share a story or crack a joke, though there was something in those eyes of his that suggested he too was weighing her up. One wish that was not granted however, was her wish for sleep. She awoke most mornings feeling out of sorts, tired, even though she slept for longer than she really should have, the eye of Ioannes high in the sky by the time she awoke.

The current state of affairs could hardly be expected to last forever though. As she awoke one morning, still groggy and tired, there had, after all, been little rest in sleep of late, to the maid shaking her shoulder. The anonymous figure of the maid swallowed nervously and piped in that Shiandi wanted to see her, in her study. Now. And with her message delivered, the maid removed herself from the scene of the crime with all due haste. She had absolutely no intention of getting between Shiandi and her charity cases. When that happened it was time to make herself scarce.

In her study, Shiandi sat comfortably braced against the summer sun. Enjoying the view of the gardens that could be seen from her window and knitting with the slow, measured movements that suggested her mind was elsewhere. The room was large enough that a large family might have lived in it, had they been the poorer sort found in the Mud Flats, but combined a bookshelf adorned with priceless books written in strange languages probably not readable by anyone short of a professor specializing in obscure and dead languages. She did not turn around as Amelia entered, but merely sat there with her back to the apprentice. "Your father and I have been talking," she said, in that toneless voice which gave absolutely no indication of if she was pleased or not with this. She gestured towards another chair not far from her, this too an expensive looking chair, the kind a person could sit in and never wish to sit anywhere else for her entire life. All too comfortable. "Sit," she said, it was not quite a statement, not quite an order.

[Amelia Lynsdaughter]

It was the old routine all over again, or so it seemed at a first glance, though it really was not supposed to be. For some reason, she had been expecting something to happen when she returned; she had taken it for granted the very moment she had left the manor behind her, earlier that season. Plunging back into limbo felt rather disappointing, especially after the tantalizing taste of freedom Amelia had enjoyed in Vortex. It had been dangerous, ambiguous and enlightening at the same time; a strange cocktail, but one not without its appeal. Deep in the bowels of Har'oloth, Amelia had no masters or superiors, she was accountable to herself alone - and the looming presence of her father. Here in Nexus, she was only one of Shiandi's soldiers, slave to the ebon witch. The half-elf was not sure how much longer she could live with that.

On the outside, she was the same as always. Her tone when speaking to Shiandi remained polite and deferential, never a single word out of place. She never addressed her teacher unless it was to answer a question or provide explanations; she knew better than to do that. Always impeccably dressed and brushed, always following every rule of etiquette to the point of pedantry, always quick to carry out her errands and orders. She had her quirks - such as baking pies and making candied almonds at the strangest times of brightening, or writing poetry that she regularly destroyed within candlemarks - but other than that, she was the incarnation of everything a subordinate ought to be.

However, the girl had been getting more and more restless on the inside. Ever since she had learnt that the Ablutos were involved in the House of Whispers - an organization of spies gone bad - she had been unable to relax altogether while in her room. Everything she did would be reviewed and scrutinized (or at least this was what Amelia assumed), so she had brought her control over her emotions to a whole new level. She hardly ever cried anymore now - she would not shed tears for the benefit of such an audience. Her private side had been almost totally flattened ever since the darkening with Kreslav and Melnich. Amelia felt very strongly about her weaknesses, and could not help but do her best to conceal them. Unfortunately, such a strategy could never be fully successful, for it came at the price of keeping everything to herself, of always watching her back, of constantly having her sword within plain sight. For the sake of her own sanity, this would have to stop eventually.

At first, she attributed her sleep disorders to the need for her body and mind to adjust to the old lifestyle once more. The appraising glances from both Shiandi and Agamon could be ascribed to their wishing to understand if the journey to the capital of corruption had changd Amelia in any way. Aside from that, the family drama did not strike her as strange; the Ablutos had always been bizarre people, as eccentric as they were dangerous. Life among them was not too different to a circus. Christianne being the clown, of course.

That brightening, tired eyes opened slowly as the maid disturbed her sleep. She nodded a rudimentary agreement, rubbed her eyes and covered a yawn with her hand even in the full solitude of her room. Amelia went through the usual menial tasks of getting clean and dressed, slipping into a simple pastel dress for the meeting with Shiandi. She brushed her hair and went downstairs. Shiandi did not usually talk to her in her study, preferring the Room of Conjurations. This was strange, and hinted at the fact this was not strictly about training. Then again, didn't she want change? Had she not been craving this for months? Surely Shiandi would not summon her in person over a minor matter. Amelia's curiosity was piqued.

She entered the room and spotted Shiandi's figure, facing the opposite direction. The witch's introductory sentence caused her blood to almost freeze over, and she nearly staggered upon hearing it - thankfully Shiandi was turned the other way. She had been talking to Father? But... when? Suddenly her state of exhaustion and apparent lack of sleep seemed to make much more sense. Apparently Amelia was not the only one who had been getting restless. The girl bit her pink lip, very frustrated that Father would choose to talk to Shiandi - someone he knew Amelia bore no love for - while he ignored his daughter for the most part. It was even worse that they did so bypassing her altogether. It made her feel used, like an item of flesh.

And of course, Father knew things that Amelia would have preferred Shiandi not to know. Materna. He knew about Khestet. He knew it all. He had always been her weak point. If he had spilled the beans to Shiandi - for whatever reason - the half-Vagaran was done for. Still, Amelia said nothing at all, realizing that the woman had asked no questions. Instead, she lifted the hem of her dress and seated herself where indicated, heart beating furiously in her chest as she prayed that Father hadn't brought yet more trouble upon her.

[Darian]

If Shiandi noticed Amelia's nervousness, she gave it no special heed, "We have... spoken at great length about you Amelia," she said, her hands moving silently, the tick, tack of the knitting needles a constant beneath the distant voice of Amelia's teacher. "Your father gave certain promises on your behalf,"*she continued, "and volunteered certain information to prove to me that you were ready to finish your education here with me." Tick tack tick tack tick tack. Coal black eyes fastened on Amelia's blue orbs, her fate had already been decided in there. How much had her father told? How much did she know? Too little? Too much?

"As such, I have a task for you to start this leg of your education," she put the knitting away finally, "you remember the place where we performed the Glossalia Blessing I hope?" She smiled over at Amelia. It was not a friendly smile. Possessive perhaps, but certainly not friendly. "By sundown tomorrow night, you will have found someone and brought them there. When I arrive I expect your victim to be subdued and preferably tied up," her knitting needles halted momentarily as she slipped a large, brass key out of her belt then she gave it to Amelia.

"Make sure his body parts are in suitable working order too," she said, she rose and left Amelia with the chilly key in hand. Her task now, was her own and the slender figure of her mistress disappeared out of the room without bothering to make further comments.

[Amelia Lynsdaughter]

Amelia was almost relieved after the first part. So Father was merely impatient, and eager for his daughter to leave Shiandi's tutelage. Made perfect sense, and brought the thing into a familiar pattern. Father must have asked Shiandi to complete her education with due haste, so she could finally begin work on freeing him from his prison of earth. Amelia had vague plans for that endeavor - remarkably enough, these involved moving to Jaedaxia and establishing herself as the top witch there, not unlike what Shiandi herself had tried in Nexus. But in order to do that, Amelia needed to grow so much more.

All in all, that Shiandi had deemed her progress sufficient for the next level of her training was good news. That she was willing to impart such training seemed to indicate that Father had not disclosed any sensitive piece of information, which was even better news. By this time Amelia had relaxed considerably, though not completely - no such luxury while around Shiandi. And before she knew it, she found herself staring into the void, her brain trying to grasp the monstruosity that was being asked of her.

She said nothing, merely sitting there and letting Shiandi's retreating figure pass her by wordlessly. The shock of the request paralyzed the girl for a few long minutes in which she wondered if she had heard Shiandi correctly. Multiple layers of horror poured down on her, each piling on top of the last as Amelia bowed her head to the nothingness, clutching at the fabric of her dress.

The first layer was, no doubt, the act itself. She was being asked to, essentially, facilitate a murder. There was no doubt that the victim would not survive; the mere act of showing in person meant that Shiandi would not allow any external witnesses to walk out of it alive. She had barely survived the abandoned crypt of the spirits - obviously the untrained would not stand a chance if forced to undertake the same ritual.

The lucidity of Amelia's analysis was, in itself, the cause of the second layer of her horror. She had not stopped Shiandi. She had not refused. And she knew why... already the sweet excuses danced about in her mind. 'I had no choice!' 'How could I have resisted Shiandi?' 'She forced me!' 'It was all her fault!' The thing made her nauseous, and she stood up suddenly, with a single, jerking movement. Which, early in the morning, was a bad idea for Amelia. Dizziness claimed her head and she had to sit down once more.

She stayed there some time, unable to cry or pray. Tears and prayers were for the innocent, and neither came forward to her rescue. This, this was another step towards the Abyss - and the third and final layer of disgust and horror, surpassing the other two, caused her to physically shake and tremble while her mind conjured forth images...

Faces.

All strangers... potential victims. Her mind just kept scanning the list regardless of how badly she wanted to restrain it. "Stop it..." she murmured, despair in her voice, a feeble protest that could not stop the inevitable. Amelia could not fight Shiandi - not yet, at least. She had too much unfinished business and things left to do. She had things she wanted, desires to be satisfied - and she needed Shiandi's teachings so badly. Maybe... maybe if she picked someone that would not be missed. Maybe it would be okay then. Still unforgiveable, but the best it could be given the circumstances? This was not killing for revenge, or in the heat of rage. Not even the calculated murder of a hated enemy compared to this. Ending a life for educational purposes.

The gallows flashed before her. The stake of the Bloodraven, as well. The fires of Aeternia. Then Father's face, and the echo of her oath to him. She drew her deepest breath and whispered slowly, her eyes still closed. "For my duty... for you... only for you... I will do this. May the gods have mercy on my soul." And right there and then, she knew who the victim would be. There was a man, and certainly others like him, who sold themselves and their bodies to the filthiest and most depraved of all trades. Amelia could condone that of a desperate woman running out of options, but a man? Utterly disgusting. Moreover, this was exactly the kind of person who would not be missed, and could be lured with money easily enough. Still... if it came to that, a common whore would do. They were certainly easier to handle than hardened criminals.

It was a dark epiphany of sorts - while a part of her had inwardly pleaded with herself for her soul, another part had pretty much come up with a plan to actually do the deed. Then again, Amelia was dove and raven in equal parts. Resigned to her fate, the girl stood, more slowly this time, heavy with the burden of sin. Some details were still sketchy - it all depended on whether she could get some ghosts and spirits to help her - but the basic idea stained her mind very clearly. She slipped a couple of bottles of Spirit Water into her bag of Adjuration tools, picked up her umbrella, donned her hat and warned Nei that she would be late tonight - maybe she would not even be back before tomorrow.

Then she was off, a harbinger of death in the form of a pretty, impeccably dressed girl. She headed towards the Private Trade Circle and surrounding quarters, looking for her victim or another of his ilk, or even a female prostitute if everything else failed. Her ploy already decided as she walked down the Road of Lies. Her Rhetoric would come in handy today.

[Darian]

Amelia was not the only one walking the Road of Lies this brightening, in fact there was a great deal of traffic was going through it today. Of course, that was over in the Mud Flats, this was the Private Trade Circle, and this was not the Road of Lies, but Miasnikov's Street, butcheries and fine restaurants struggling for place, working alongside and opposed to each other constantly.

Grey clouds hovered menacingly overhead, their presence boding ill for the latter part of the day. Perhaps rain was coming. Perhaps even a thunderstorm. Hard to tell on days like these, but in either case, it was only a matter of time.

There were always people in Nexus Prime. It was never quiet. Always someone trying to sell something, someone wanting to buy something and someone trying to hustle them both out of money. On this street too, like so many other places around the city, there were women and men wishing to sell themselves. They were not exactly hard to spot, their Guild insignias gave them away. That and their revealing clothes, in a city where covering up was considered the height of fashion, showing more skin than not was what gave them away. Some were dressed in revealing dresses, others wore just a vest and a pair of trousers to best show off their... suitability for the craft they were plying.

Of course, there were certainly some that looked better than others, it was always a profession which gathered the most desperate and the least able, there was a pretty enough slip of a girl by the door, obviously new to the craft given the nervousness she exhibited, another had obviously been at it for longer, her face having lost the smoothness of youth and her long curls long since having grown slack like the rest o her. A man dressed in scant to nothing, eyeing the crowd's ladies with the kind of dead eyes that said he was only in this for the business and that he had seen much too much of it to care anymore, another a young boy, still too young to shave, much like the young girl in his awkwardness, beauty still stamped on his face.

There were more of them, plying their trade elsewhere. She could find them, should she wish to, but here were the main choices, did she take someone who had lived through it all and was unlikely to care much, or did she save someone from their fate? Who then, would fill the role of the victim.

[Amelia Lynsdaughter]

If there ever was one moment when Amelia felt like a monster, this must be it. She moved casually down the street, watching the desperate as they sold themselves to whoever wanted them, watching them not unlike someone gauging the best chicken or the tastiest slab of meat at the butcher's. Who would be most likely to believe her story and follow her? Who would be easiest to subdue?

One thing she had never considered so far was that, like anyone plying a legal trade in Nexus, they belonged to a Guild. This added a layer of organization to their trade, complicating things for Amelia. It meant they were registered with their Guild, they paid their fees and they were monitored for performance just like any other worker. Their absence would be missed more than she had thought at first.

'Get yourself a slave,' a part of her stabbed her from the inside. It sounded like the easiest way... easiest and safest. Yet there was something abominable in purchasing a slave for some reason, and that would be the last resort. It would be a lot simpler for Amelia to justify killing a prostitute. Gods, but she had always found them disgusting. She remembered a couple of them from where she had grown up, taunting her like the helpless half-breed that she was, saying she would make a good one too. They were so dirty - like her mother who had yielded to the advances of her father's killer. The terror of being compared to one of them had helped make her so rigid and awkward around men.

In a flash of determination, she picked the most naive-looking girl, a pretty little thing. Thinking about her mother had made her settle for a girl after all, and what appeared to be the easiest target to subdue. Still, Amelia was aware that her tactic was unlikely to work if she gave the impression of a walking broomstick. No, she needed to be much more comfortable, more open, yes, even more sensual. She did not approach the girl the first time, instead retreating casually as if watching the vendors and their wares.

The second time, however, she did approach. Her hair allowed to fall a bit more irregularly on her shoulders, giving her less of a top grade student appearance; her walk featuring a little more hip swaying than she would ordinarily display; a more extroverted, confident look in her eyes. "Serale, hun," she half-whispered conspiratorially to the girl, "you're pretty new, aren't you? You totally remind me of myself a couple patterns back." She smiled, being able to relate was fundamental and what better way than making her believe she had been through it too? As nauseous as that made her feel.

"I was new, inexperienced, and every man looked like he was going to chew me up and spit me out. I was lucky though... lucky enough to be introduced to the Bower of Bliss." The smile she allowed herself was more vulgar than anything she usually did. It was all part of the facade; her professor had told her that arguments by authority were incredibly effective. It all boiled down to making this girl believe she was an authority to be believed. "Tell me hun, how much do you make a darkening?" she almost purred, though to her credit, Amelia could very well be a sensual creature, she simply did not usually want to be one. "I bet it's more than I ever made... you're so pretty. You would be just perfect." Saying-and-not-saying, letting the girl inquire rather than forcing lies on her... that was the way to go.

[Darian]

She was a pretty girl by anyone's standard, not out and out beautiful, she lacked that ethereal quality which made someone seem truly beautiful, perhaps it was her stance, the slightly unsure wringing of her hands which belied a nervous nature, perhaps it was the swift shifting of her eyes, it was certainly not confidence which shone through them, but nervousness and ultimately, vulnerability.

Perhaps that was why Amelia had chosen her. She seemed the perfect prey, not enough muscle to properly defend herself, so fresh off whatever farm she'd been raised on that the accents of the Highlands still hung heavy on her lips, "Serale," she answered nervously, "I guess so, I've just been working with Mistress Thekoven for three cycles now. I... I can do girls too," she uttered nervously, perhaps misinterpreting Amelia's initial inquiries, "I've not been trained in pleasing girls, but if you like, I guess I could do it..." she watched her feet with the kind of intense stare which only came from intense embarrassment, her pale cheeks scarlet as she made the offer to Amelia.

As it became clear that Amelia was not there for business though, she moved her gaze up, "You're... you're not a courtesan are you?" she asked, such creatures were rarely seen on the streets of the city itself, they plied their trade from rich manors and expensive city apartments, and they had enough power to keep themselves outside of guild control, no mean feat in Nexus Prime. She gaped slightly as Amelia continued, blushed at the compliments, tucking a stray wisp of hair behind her ear.

"What's the Bower of Bliss?" she breathed, looking this way and that, as if keeping its existence a secret between the two of them was of vital importance, her curiosity was piqued. "I um... I guess I make about 2 crowns a day, maybe 5 if there are many..." she swallowed, "clients that day. Mistress Tekhoven has me working during the day though, not the night, so I don't get as many customers, she says I need to become more experienced before she'll let me work nights." Her voice seemed high and she seemed to worry slightly about standing around talking to someone when she could be making money off those walking by. Of course, none of the other street walkers seemed to mind her talking to Amelia and were hawking their wares all the more furiously for her not being there. Amelia had sunk the twin hooks of curiosity and greed into her though and right now, she seemed about ready to reel in.

[Amelia Lynsdaughter]

It should be said at this point that if the ghosts Amelia dealt with were half as naive as this girl, she would have her work cut out for her. She was even telling her what lies she wanted to believe! A part of Amelia felt horrible, but another part of her considered coldly that such a weakling would not last long in Nexus anyways... not to mention the part of her that was shockingly enjoying playing the part of the deceiver after having been deceived so many times before. When you tested your luck on the streets, the chance of losing was very real. The witch knew it all too well.

They were both desperate in their own ways. The half-elf was desperate for Shiandi's teachings that would help her keep her father's favour, without which she was only a container of flesh waiting to be possessed and sent to the slaughter. The girl in front of her was desperate for a way out of the pit. One of them was at the end of the road. The only difference was that Amelia knew it.

"Don't you be tempting me now," Amelia said in the most sultry whisper she could conjure up, leaning closer to the girl and gently blowing her warm breath over the sensitive upper ear (all those forbidden romance books that she was not supposed to read at the library were paying off; book education was still education). "I try not to mix business with pleasure, but the flesh is so weak... Now, listen to me carefully because you are not going to get a second chance."

"We go by many names, one of which you just mentioned," she smiled, a conspiratorial twinkle in her blue eyes, "and the Bower of Bliss is a house in the woods... a special house. Everyone that is someone in Nexus goes there. It's a girl's fastest way to... upward mobility and if you are lucky enough to be introduced and desirable enough to be wanted, well, you've pretty much arrived. And you know what's the best thing? We are short a girl at the moment."

"See what I mean, sweetie? If I get you in there you won't have to sell your pretty backside anymore to the first disease-ridden john, and I gain a protegée who will help me increase my own standing in the House. Of course Mistress Thekoven may not like that. She just wants to squeeze the last silver out of you and then throw you out to the sewerage pigs. I, on the other hand..." Amelia was ready to deliver the final blow now, which came in the form of a 50-Crown banknote. She handled it with the nonchalance of someone no longer accustomed to dealing with such trivial amounts of money, running its edge down the girl's throat and stopping barely short of the curve of her breasts before handing it to her.

"You can call me Acrasia, if you will share your name with me," she said softly, "and if you are interested you can show up tomorrow, three candlemarks before sundown, outside the Eastern gates." Yes, it was important not to be seen together with her at the gates. "Make sure you look your very best... this money should be easily enough to get the best treatment and massage at the public baths. I will provide the dress. You just... don't tell anyone, or I'll have to break all contact." One of Amelia's own dresses would do, she considered. She gave a short, displeased pout, meaning that it would be a true shame if her loose tongue were to ruin everything. 'Acrasia' had found the perfect one after all, going through the rank-and-file whores of Nexus again was not something she would relish.

She tilted her head, waiting for a response, reassuring and carnal on the outside but frightened within, so afraid. No spirit or ghost had ever scared her so much as she herself did right now.

[Darian]

The girl's face went beetroot red at Amelia's comment, she was obviously not as streetwise or as used to this as she would like to be. Being with a man was one thing, but the idea of being with another woman seemed to scare her more than anything else, or at least deeply embarrass her. Her stare was well fixed on her boots but she dared look up as Amelia continued to explain her errand.

"So it's like Crow's then?" she asked quietly, well, it wasn't much of a question, more of a statement, though the analogy was somewhat mistaken perhaps. She brightened up at Amelia statement though, starting to see what Amelia had in store for her. Or rather, what Amelia would like her to think was in store for her. She still seemed fairly worried though, she had been in Nexus long enough to hear stories of horrible murderers and rapists and the like who took girls who went off on their own. Her eyes glittered as they fastened on the banknote though. That was more than she made in cycles! She snagged it quickly enough and secreted it on her body, wary that Amelia might change her name.

"Acrasia," she breathed the name, "three candlemarks before sundown, tomorrow, Eastern gates. I won't let you down, Mistress Acrasia," she piped in almost eagerly. Any wariness blown away by the potential for earning money. If this was what was paid up front, what could be paid her when she got there? Anyone willing to throw around that kind of money couldn't be merely some rapist off the streets or anything like that. "My name is Olga," said the petite girl, looking nothing like an Olga at all, "but Mistress Tekhoven says I should go by Kitty now."

Once the business was dealt with though she disappeared quickly enough into a back alley, eager to spend her new money, not yet old enough to learn that what looked like easy money very rarely was.

Three candlemarks before sundown, the next evening found Kitty nee Olga, waiting for Mistress Arcasia at the gates, looking nervously back and forth. Her black hair had been put up stylishly and she had obviously invested in make up, though her beauty was somewhat marred by wearing the same, rather revealing dress she had worn earlier and her constant nervous chewing of one of her fingernails. She looked as if she had spent the money Amelia had given her well though, she smelled faintly of basil and musk, while the kohl she was wearing was obviously of good quality, the pale, Ariumite skin seeming to have been treated with expensive oils so it almost glowed in the pale, stretched light of the sun.

Grey eyes darted back and forth, her painted lips forming a slight pout around the fingernail she was chewing on nervously. She definitely seemed nervous about this, but there was a lot of money involved and who was not willing to go through a bit of trouble for some money. She seemed much like a deer where she stood, ready to bolt at the first sign of trouble.

[Amelia Lynsdaughter]

She had bitten.

At this point Amelia had to take a leap of faith and assume 'Kitty' would in fact show up the following brightening as she had promised. Chances were she would, if the Adjurator had correctly gauged the greed in her eyes. The prostitute reminded her of her old self for real, of the spineless woman who had first entered Nexus, afraid of her own shadow, except that she had never sold herself off to a man. She watched her off as her prey left, so quickly that Amelia suspected she was afraid of her changing her mind and wanting her money back.

"Sorry, little one," she murmured. The same line spoken to a dead goat. There, it was done. A horrid deed, yet one Amelia was not going to cry over. She would cope with it by comparing it to lions and gazelles. Then she was off as well, not wishing to draw too much attention to herself. She spent the rest of the brightening on some errands around the city, buying some rope and a couple small torches, just in case it came down to having to tie her victim up before Shiandi arrived. She did not look like she could put up much of a fight, that tiny slip of a girl. Amelia's blades and the muscular tone built from carrying out Shiandi's housework tasks would be more than enough.

One strange thing she did buy was a drug whose trade she had witnessed once before at Longbeard's. A dose of Blisspad, a happiness-inducing construct. She had learned more about it in time, and while she would never use such things herself, her instinct told her that there would be a passing to be eased within the crypt of the restless dead. Even though Amelia was playing the predator, it did not mean that she wanted her prey to suffer beyond the inevitable minimum.

When she showed up the following brightening, Amelia had no choice but look her very best, too; the backstory required it. Clad in the light brown silken dress - her most elegant one for the summer season - that Viskyia had given her as a gift with her credit at Nexus Fine Clothing, she had paid particular attention to her makeup, a medium amount of it accentuating her normally secondary Elven traits and making her decidedly more interesting and exotic-looking. Not one for aggressive perfumes, she was wearing a delicate flowery fragrance that had something cryptic to it. She was still keeping her hair loose and in one of those seemingly 'wilder' styles that actually took a long time to prepare, creating an interesting contrast to the serious depth of her eyes. A cute-looking lace umbrella hanging from her wrist, and two bags were flung over her shoulder.

"Serale, Olga," she said, less mischievous and more protective than the last brightening, as she noticed her nervousness. Then again, there could be nothing bad coming from a girl that looked like she was going to a high-profile party, right? And she was her protegée now, so that explained why her new 'Mistress' was being nice to her, right? "I'm glad you came." Words could not describe how true that was. If Olga had decided to just enjoy her money and stay Kitty, Amelia would have found herself in major trouble, forced to abduct pretty much the first person on the road.

"Gods, but you look gorgeous," she smiled appreciatively, looking her up and down once, "you'll be perfect in the right dress." She slipped one of her bags off her shoulders and allowed Olga to take a peek at the content. There was another silken dress inside, this one white. It was one of the first dresses she had bought in Nexus in her first period there, and as such she had been thinner and less healthy then. It was no longer exactly comfortable for Amelia, but she thought it would fit Olga just fine... if she ever got to put it on.

"Shall we go?" she asked, making sure not to sound urgent. "I'm sorry we can't go there on a carriage, not today at least. Not until they accept you... if it can be any consolation, they had me blindfolded for secrecy the first time, but I know you wouldn't run around telling people about us." She was even giving her full trust and bending the rules for her sake, so it couldn't be bad, right?

If Olga - for Kitty was going to retire after tonight, right? - accepted to follow her, Amelia would show her the way to the crypt. The first leg of the journey would be the more critical, she knew. Once they were outside screaming distance of Nexus, she would be hers. With nowhere to run, nowhere to hide and no-one to ask for help, this kind of people usually collapsed in a trembling heap. What she needed until that time was a distraction, and she thought of the perfect one. She gave her lots of advice on how to be more ladylike. This was one topic in which you could not get a more eager teacher than Amelia. She explained how Olga needed to stop chewing on her fingernails, that she needed to take on a more straight posture without stooping forward. She pointed out the flaws in her Highland accent, teaching her how to spell words in a more pleasant manner. She dissected the way Olga walked, and informed her as to the most ladylike ways of sitting at a table - all things that added to her aura of legitimacy and came from living in a noble household for eras.

It was scary, thinking that Amelia could give out courtesan training.

[Darian]

"Thank you," she said, blushing at the compliments after they had both gone through their serale's. She grasped the bag in eager fingers, peering in at the contents. "That's silk," she breathed, clearly not used to such fancy fabrics, "but why mourning silk?" she asked, seeming curious at the odd choice.

"Da," she said, her country brogue revealing itself quickly enough. "Of course," there was a certain hunger in her eyes, not for Amelia or any such thing, but for money. It was an easy enough vice to understand. Nexus had never been very kind to the poor, but always very rewarding to the rich. She listened to Amelia as she walked, taking in the advice like a sponge. Of course, she was not the best of pupils, much like a sponge all it took was a good squeeze and out the knowledge went. While she corrected herself on her posture several times, she seemed to slip back into a casual kind of walk which had little to do with grace and everything to do with putting one foot in front of the other. Her country origins stuck out like a sore thumb even here.

Of course, if Amelia had a more detailed knowledge of what went into courtesan training, she would likely have eaten those words.

By the time they reached the woods though, Olga seemed to start building up a slight frown of worry on her forehead. They were well outside what Amelia would term screaming distance. The farmlands surrounding Nexus went on for quite some time before coming up against woodland. It was here that she and Shiandi had gone off the beaten path. Of course, it looked different in the summer. The lack of snow revealing landmarks which had not been there the last time Amelia had set foot in these woods. Now, a small, overgrown path lead into the darker depths of the woods.

Olga was familiar enough with the nobility and such of Nexus Prime to merely assume that they wished any such dealings as this to remain a secret, thus she and Acrasia was taking what amounted to the back door in to avoid detection, still the frown of worry on her forehead increased.