Completed The Saviour in Distress

[Amolina]

Continues from The Dastard of The Docks

The play had ended with a surprise, as it was meant to do and always did : the role as the Ebonstryfe soldier in the end scene was always done by a random bypasser the actors went out to fetch on the street. It used to amuse the audience to no end. But this evening the random bypasser had seemed to really be a stryfer.

Fiction and reality had bled into each other in the most unexpected ways and turned what merely was acting into reality - if it was real. But who was able to tell what was truth and what is only appearance ?

The saviour had carried “Rozita Romaro” out, at the ravokian style happy end of the play named The Dastard of The Docks. But he continued to carry her, in reality, after the end of the play. And being carried away by the stryfe was definitely an end that made Amolina feel worried, no matter how enthusiastic the applause from the audience had been.

“That was the end of the play. We can stop acting now and you don’t need to carry me anymore” Amolina said hopefully, when the man stepped up on the nearest platform.

She had dropped the impersonation of Amelia Cross she had been using while she acted as “Rozita Romaro”, the heroine of the play. But she was still acting, though it was a totally other thing now. It wasn’t a play. It was just her, Amolina Moletta, playing unmoved and lighthearted, concealing the fear she felt.

She gave a light and unconcerned laugh that matched the glittering beauty of Ravok by night and put all of her skill into making it sound natural. The laugh had a somewhat inebriated undertone she didn’t need to act at all…she had had a wee bit too much to drink while she shared the fun stories with the vantha.

Only chimes had passed. But it already seemed long ago.

“I don’t mind”. The man spoke in a low and calm voice just he had done right before he told them he had been dreaming about doing the savior role and act it “the right way” - right before he had started to beat Essing unconscious. He hadn’t gone on mindlessly and beaten the actor to pulp though. But the swift efficient violence had been scary enough. Amolina made a silent promise to herself to never again star in one of those plays where the outcome was a surprise every time.

[Amolina]

She didn’t know what to think now, when he carried on. Was the stryfer a complete madman, unable to differ between reality and what happened in a theater play? The last time she had seen him he had been in charge of a raid, obviously some sort of officer. At the time he had seemed sane enough. But now he behaved like he truly believed he was a hero in shining armor and had saved a damsel in distress from a theatrically laughing villain.

She was really worried about what the next part of “the right way to play the role” might be in his opinion. But in Ravok it wasn’t a good idea to show your weakness and fear. Amolina laughed again, with feigned carefree elation, like she was completely happy with the situation and liked her sudden new company.

She exaggerated her inebriation and did small, subtle things to seem more groggy than she really was - she waved a hand in a slightly unbalanced way, giggled abruptly and stopped it quickly like she was trying to gain better control of herself. Being drunk, or seeming to be drunk, could sometimes serve as an excuse for things a sober woman wouldn’t do. She could use this excuse for things she already had done this evening. And she was maybe also about to use it as an excuse for things a sober woman would definitely not do.

Still laughing she clasped her hands behind his neck, leaned back and looked into the stranger’s eyes. And then she went silent and just stared into his eyes languishingly, in the same theatrical and overdone seductive way she had stared at Essing when they had carried out the dance on the stage. After spending a chime or two like this, she started laughing anew, like she had made a joke she found extremely fun, the silly way only drunk people can laugh at their own foolish jokes. But slowly she let the laughter fade and just…gazed. There was a moment of total silence, then she put up a surprised and confused expression and gave a small, hardly hearable sound.

“You’ll get tired in your arms” she said, making her voice sound a bit husky. “And I need to go back and fetch my cloak. It’s a bit cold tonight, don’t you think? Let’s go back now.”

[Amolina]

Without answering he turned into a sidewalk by a smaller, narrower canal. There he stopped, in the light of a lantern and let her slide down to stand on the pavement. He did this slowly and carefully, not like dropping her down. Amolina took the opportunity to stumble subtly in order to add to the acting.

The stryfer put his hands lightly around her elbows to keep her steady and looked at her, a smile playing on his mouth, an amused expression on his face. “I’ll not get tired. But I wouldn’t want you to freeze. You can borrow my cloak, it will keep you warm.”

He opened the buckle of the cloak, took it off, swept the garment around her and fastened it. The dark wool cloth was of a much thicker, warmer, softer quality than her own worn cloak the instant, luxurious warmth. The cloak felt pleasant despite the situation.

“My name is Xavier.” He didn’t mention his family name. He was still smiling. Amolina hadn’t cared to notice more than the uniform at the time she and Parnell had put up their little show in front of this man...if it was him.

But now she had reason to have a closer look at him. She could see his face in the light of the lantern : He looked to be in his thirties and had a reasonably well shaped face in that average alright way that is really hard to recall clearly, and he had the straight and fit stance of a well trained professional soldier in the service of Rhysol.

In general he looked like that raid officer…then again she realized she wasn’t sure it really was the same man. It could actually be somebody else.

“Now, may I see your papers please? I would like to know who I'm saving.” He smiled and he spoke in a very soft and low voice. But despite his polite manners, the warm cloak and the amusement in his eyes, there was no doubt she was in trouble. Whether this Xavier was an Ebonstryfe or not didn't matter. She had seen what he had done to Essing. It went without saying that he could stop being this nice, any tick.

Amolina kept her important citizen papers in the bodice of her dress. She took them out and gave them to him. Temporarily she fell back on the impersonation of Amelia Cross again to make the small movements of her hand look delicate and frail. She allowed her eyes to widen anxiously, no need to try to hide it.

Xavier - if that really was his name - looked at the papers briefly and then he tucked them away in a pocket inside his uniform jacket. Amolina’s heart beat faster than it already was doing when her valuable identity papers disappeared out of sight. The simple action made her shiver inside. Had he done it deliberately? Or had it only been habit that had made him put the papers in his pocket instead of remembering to give them back to her ?

[Amolina]

“Amolina Moletta. Well, Amolina. I think I have seen you before?” he said pleasantly. ”There’s something so familiar about you. Do you often visit The Spot?”

It sounded just like a cliché pick up line. This kind of line had been just what could be expected from the awkward youth she had been dancing with one day in fall, but it was an absurd question for an Ebonstryfe officer in his thirties. He was questioning her subtly, despite the very pleasant way it was done. So far.

“Very seldom” she answered. “But I’m an actress. I guess you may have seen me in another play somewhere else.”

“Yes. I believe I have. I think I have seen you act before.” He paused. ”Are you married?”

Another seemingly innocent question. Again Amolina thought about that time Parnell and she had passed themselves off as a married couple in front of this man (perhaps, if it was the same man) and his subordinate soldiers. She thought about how they had hurried away and jumped into a ravonsala and been off before the stryfers had remembered to check their papers.

“No” she managed. “I’m not married.”

“How fortunate. Truth becomes you.” He reached out and pushed a lock of hair away from her brow, and then let his fingertips brush lightly against her face, down her cheek, stopping under her chin. He smiled again, looking into her eyes, like he found this very fun.

“It would have been sad if you really had been married to a weakling that put up with being hit in the face in public and called billy-goat kelvic”, don’t you think? A pity you left by boat before anybody had time to check your papers.” Pause. “I must admit it was an impressive performance you gave that evening, but did you really think nobody would want to find out what was going on and try to track you?”

Amolina looked back at him just like a mesmerized rat might look back at a snake. He knew, somehow. This situation wasn’t a mere coincidence.

She still made an effort to act though. Still acting somewhat drunk, she let her eyes fall shut, like she was too dizzy to behave properly. Once she had shut them she was reluctant to open them again. Instead a new thing occurred to her : Xavier’s hair was of a darker color. He might be the one the fortune reading in summer had warned her for, the dark haired man with the green eyes, the one that would make her life troublesome.

As she was already acting drunk and had an excuse for saying amazingly silly things she asked the question that was on her mind. In an absent and dreamy voice she said : “Am I mistaken, or are your eyes green ?”

A compact silence descended and started growing more and more and more unpleasant.

“You’ve had more than just a little too much to drink, haven’t you?” Xavier said finally. She could feel his hands move upwards from her elbows and close around her shoulders, lightly. “Or so you want me to think.”

[Amolina]

The somewhat irritated tone that had replaced the softness in his voice made her open her eyes again. She could see that the smile had vanished from his face. “I’m sorry” she said and pulled the warm cloak closer around her in an irrational attempt to shelter herself. It didn’t help any.

“Sorry is a feeble word after having intently acted to mislead the stryfe, isn’t it? I could turn you in for interrogation. You ran away from the place of a raid against terrorists. A suspect thing to do. Why did you do it ?”

There was no good way to answer the question. But Amolina had to answer something, so after a few ticks she said : “I was worried about being suspected for things I’m not guilty of”.

“The war against terrorism requires heavy-handed methods now and then. It’s inevitable that a few innocent bypassers can get into trouble, but the city can’t take any risks. Ravok’s best is more important than the misforunes of a few citizens who were in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“Yes” Amolina said complacently. “But I haven’t done anything” she added.

“How can I be sure of that, without a proper interrogation? Most people can recall lots of things when they get help to refresh their memories. But it will only give information about the past. Sometimes the future can be far more interesting though. Don't you think so too ? You...are leading an interesting life with interesting connections, aren’t you ?” Pause. ”The Nitrozians seems to be up to some brand new kind of business … and I’m interested in business too.”

“Business?” Amolina took the bait and reacted instantly to the word business. Business, this magical word, this special word, the signal that there could be a deal to make, something to gain, at a prize.

“I’m always interested in information. In fall you were seen inspecting a house in the noble district in the company of a grandson of Sitanos Nitrozian. And after this there's been craftsmen coming and going in that house, for the rest of the season. It all seems very hushed, but information always leaks.” Xavier gave her a short but surprisingly well informed summary of parts of the plans - but he didn’t know all, only the official part, about the health business. And Amolina didn’t fill him in, she just stared at him, like she was utterly surprised and shocked that he knew all this. ( Which was true, in particular as she was wondering if he knew even more than he was telling her ...)

“I would like to keep an eye on this new business and how it develops, what’s happening there and how profitable it is. And there can be other missions for you as well. In case you’d be doing some intelligence for me I can’t see any point in turning you in.”

[Amolina]

Information.

But not about what she had thought it would be. Not about possible terrorist contacts due to having been seen at the place of a raid. Not about the death of that unknown ravonsalaan. He just wanted to know more about the project Valerius Nitrozian had involved herself and Parnell in. She hadn’t been prepared at all for this. It was beyond her to guess the reason he wanted it.

Amolina had no idea how she managed to force a smile. Perhaps it was because she actually was a bit tipsy she was able to smile while being blackmailed. “Yes of course” she said. “Work for the Ebonstryfe, you mean? But it’s a medical care place, I don’t understand…”

“Not the Ebonstryfe. I meant work for me. Meet me and give me information now and then. Are you interested? Do we have a deal?” He gave her a wider and more brilliant smile than before. It went without saying that she would accept. They both knew it. But he phrased it politely, like she had a choice.
Amolina nodded. They had a deal.

But now she had started wondering if this man, Xavier, even was in the Ebonstryfe. What if he wasn’t really that officer from the raid, but somebody else, disguised, wearing the uniform, acting, impersonating, and whatever…Somebody who knew a few details about the events at the raid and used it for his own ends.

Many unanswered questions came to her mind. For instance, how came he had been able to turn up right when Alice Lark went out to fetch a random bypasser? She made a mental note to ask Alice what had happened during the few chimes the barmaid had been away.

A ravonsala came gliding on the canal and Xavier waved it down. “I’ll see you home safely. As I am saving you from a fate worse than death I feel responsible for you” he said in a mocking tone. He put his arm around her shoulders and pushed her gently into the boat like they had agreed on it. He asked for her address and gave the ravonsalaman instructions.

Amolina found it best to play along and help keep up the false friendliness between them, so she didn’t object. If he wanted to play nice, why would she complain ? It was better than the opposite.

They travelled over the silent water. The city’s breathtakingly romantic beauty was around them, with the water, the silhouettes of the houses, the lanterns the lights. All was lovely, enchanting, glittering and wonderful. It wouldn’t have been wrong with languishing music to accompany it. The whole scene really looked utterly romantic, just like in a typical happy end in a ravokian play.

At the ravonsalastop Xavier seemed to still find his “role” terribly entertaining, as he gently helped her out of the boat in a manner like she was made of glass and needed to be handled with utter care. They walked silently to the NHC block where she lived.

Amolina stopped at the front door and asked to get her identity papers back. For a tick nothing happened, two ticks, three, four…tick after tick passed. She watched his face with growing anxiety, wondering what he was thinking, who he was, how he could know so much, if he really was a stryfer or just playacting ...Then he shrugged, took the papers out from the inner pocket of his jacket and handed them to her, without comments.

“And your cloak…” She lifted her hands to the buckle and started opening it in order to give the cloak back. But Xavier - if that was his name, which she doubted - caught her hands in his and told her to keep it. Working for him could pay off eventually, he said. “Don’t look for me. Don’t ask any questions. Don’t try to contact me. I’ll let you know when and where we’ll meet next time.” He looked at her like he was about to say something more, but then he turned around and left.

Amolina went in, walked to her apartment, closed the door behind her. She leaned back on the door, her eyes shut, and took deep breath. She was at home, but didn’t feel particularly safe.

After a few chimes she took off the cloak and examined it. She noticed that it smelled faintly of something. Perhaps one of those discretely and pleasantly smelling mixes of herbs and spices that people used to keep in their wardrobes, she thought. There was absolutely nothing that marked the cloak as a uniform piece or other kind of official garment. It was a dark cloak of an excellent quality, that was all.

Tomorrow she was going to meet Valerius Nitrozian and Nolan Parnell and open the new project location. She put the cloak it in the wardrobe and went to sleep.

[Abstract]

Amolina

~|-|~

Player

Award :

Skills

~ Acting - 3
~ Impersonation - 1
~ Observation - 1

Lores

~ Never Star in a Surprise-Ending Play. Ever.
~ Xavier: Stryfer
~ Acting Drunk
~ Blackmailed!

Other

+ Xavier's Winter Cloak

~|-|~

Notes

Well... that was very good! I could just feel Amo thinking "Shyke shyke shyke shyke" over and over again, even though you didn't mention it. Very tense, and excellent writing! I can't wait to see what else comes of this!