PM to join Two Halves of the Mercenary (Zandelia)

[Sayren WindDancer]

The 38th of Winter

Sayren stretched out of her bed. Another rise to an early morning. The sun barely had much a chance for dawn to crack over the horizon. She shifted herself over to the edge of the bed and planted her feet onto the ground. What was she going to do today?

Rose had given her the day off. There weren't any oddly jobs posted upon the Board at the Employment Office (Only cause she had checked the day before). Thus, that left the option of either, training? Or...well...she could do other things. Like surprising Revy. Sayren giggled at the thought. It was her new pass time now. Managing to surprise Revy at every turn. It was like the mercenary didn't expect this little drykas to be so all over her.

Her heart was fluttering. Her body felt light as she stood on her feet and nearly skipped to her closet on the tips of her toes. Reaching from one outfit to another. Deciding and debating on which would suffice for her surprise today. "Perhaps if I could mix them?" She asked herself in a muffled whisper. With a few taps of her chin, an idea came to fruition. She quickly discarded her night shirt and slipped on her crimson corset. The satin one with the elaborate designs across the belly. Tying it up from behind was always a hassle to her, but it's also what kept Revy in anticipation.

Then she threw on the thigh high stockings, the white ones that were meant to go with her white lingerie set. However, they seemed quite fitting with the crimson corset as well. Along with the underwear, the pair that barely covered anything, if at all. She poised herself in front of the mirror. Glancing about herself to see if she seemed tantalizing enough for her lover.

Perhaps...it was a bit much to just traipse over to Revy's room in just this. With underwear that did so little to over her bum. If Savio were on the grounds, or if Gods forbid, Bones actually be around. She might actually feel bad for it. So for the time being, she slipped on her black tights. This should do for now, she thought. "Not that they would last anyways." She says to herself as she winks at the mirror. Then takes a deep breath, "Alright Sayren. You can do this. Now go make that girl drop her jaw!"

With that, she begins to head over to Revy's room. Pausing for only a few ticks, it was unbelievable that this woman still made her nervous. When she finally mustered the strength, she opened the door and announced herself, in as sexy a tone as she could manage, "Hello Revy. I thought we could-" But her tone and thought were cut off. The moment she saw the woman in Revy's bed. A woman, that was not Revy. Her eyes widen as she gulped for air, "Who are you?" Not that she needed to ask. It had to have been Revy's lover...from before...the one that was never around....Zandelia.

[Zandelia]

News travels fast, especially fast if someone who want to know things about you has a quick tongue and a harming smile. It had helped that some considered her a friend, others were threatened but not overly so. It was surprising what a kind word or a threat could achieve over attempted force. Spider, spiders everywhere – all of them willing to pass on titbits of information for an inconsequential price. Revy had a new love, she had stopped calling upon Zanelia, or at least as often. So the net had been thrown and a little fish had emerged, if not currently upon the hook then perhaps about to bite.

Sayren…a Drykas from the Sea of Grass. An oddity in itself that she should be here. Choosing Revy is to be accepted as smart, she is both strong and beautiful – few people of such a combination exist in this part of the world. Still…

“But far from wise, she should have done her reconnaissance. She has no idea what I am capable of” she muttered to herself as she lay upon Revy’s bed.

It was empty as her on-off lover was away training as was her desire. Admittedly Zandelia had contrived the idea and perfect situation to get her away – a monk challenge. That hadn’t been difficult to achieve. She had simply observed out loud that a certain male initiate was not as talented as he thought he was. He had challenged her, but when told of the Revy and her prowess…well...hubris can be a painful thing at times. Usually every time, she mused upon reflection. So there she was, in her black leather breeches, soft white corset (though it had faded and dirtied towards grey now) and black leather gloves today, trimming her nails absently with her fathers’s dagger – an epithet of death and as such something that would catch attention and put the power in her hands.

As soon as she arrives that is she told herself, considering whether a knife in the ribs rather than to nails would be a better occurrence. But then there would be the mess too many people to shut up effectively and she was not sure she could afford it.

No, one body led to ten and then pretty soon your own. So she waited, patient as a viper awaiting the rodent. Soon she would come and then time would stop, options branch out and a singular path would have to be chosen. All that remained was to discuss which one it would be with this…Sayren.

The door opened and the shock was quite amusing. She left the dagger n her hand as she shifted herself up to sit upon the bed now, her single emerald eye fixed intently upon her quarry. She was attractive, Revy certainly had good taste. The skin was soft, the energy the radiated from the woman was strong. Youth, vitality…everything that Zandelia was not. The clothes were inviting of expectation – alluring yet hardy enough that I would take time to remove them and thus increase the expectation. She gathered that this was not the first time the woman had come to her mercenary in such a manner.

“I’m not sure yet,” she responded quietly, her eye locked to the other’s gaze, “but do you know what Nemesis means?” she smiled then, small and fleeting.

“Close the door and tell me,” she passed for effect, “why do you spend your days petching my lover?”

It was a simple question, the tones slow and beguiling at first before the last words lashed out like the tip of a sword.

[Sayren WindDancer]

Sayren remained, frozen in place at the doorway as she gazed down at the woman. She was tempting. Inviting. However, it was those same features that made her appear all the more deadly. The woman had taken a few ticks to glance about Sayren. Examining her from where she sat on the edge of the bed before their eyes met.

"I'm not sure yet." The woman answered Sayren. She didn't know who she was? How could that be so? Had she forgotten her memory? Could that have been why she had been away rom Revy all this time? Before Sayren could ask, the woman darted a question at her with a smile. "What does Nemesis mean?"

Sayren was baffled by the question. What exactly was it that she wanted?

The woman then told Sayren to come in. Then darted another question. One with a bit more severity than the last. And more to the point as well. It even made Sayren narrow her eyes as she closed the door behind herself. Despite the intended harshness, it only bolden Sayren's confidence. "I do not petch Revy...I've only made love to her."

She was nervous. She was trying her best not to show it. Though her thumbs twiddled amongst themselves and her toes anxiously cringing at the floor. Her eyes remained locked with Zandelia's. They remained unflinching. She knew better than to glance away for any reason at all.

"She's the reason, that I am, who I am today. I am stronger. I am faster. And I am more skilled as a warrior. She has taught me so much. And yet, she has also given me so much more in affection as well...she means the world to me...By the Seven...I'd do anything for her."

[Zandelia]

The gaze was strong but lacked the full confidence of brash youth she had expected, the girls was clearly wrong-footed and unsure as to how to progress the conversation. Little enough had been said, that which was being from the heart but not wisely thought through before the lips had moved. No questioning as to her name, no establishing whether she had the right to be in the room or not – naivety personified. Youth could be fickle though and was often conflicted. It showed in her stance, she was at war with herself. The gaze was solid and didn’t leave Zandelia’s own once, she was obviously courageous. Or she was foolhardy if you perceived it in another light.

But the toes, the thumbs…she is nervous. Fidgeting and trying to hide her nerves…she has a lot to learn. Still…she has promise and if she doesn’t die in the next few years she might become wiser. A debt…is a debt however she thought as she considered her next move.

She twirled the dagger in her hand as she considered the words of the girl, noting how such a playful action with the weapon caused a slight tremor in the girl’s lip. It was a thorny problem, she truly did care for Revy and that meant Revy returned the affection – such as it was. Usually she relished such torments, they were what she thrived upon after all, but this time they just complicated matter. She decided to push, just a little, to see how firm the convictions were.

“Strong? You don’t know the meaning of the word my dear,” she purred as she lifted herself from the bed swiftly and crossed the gap between then in moments, “a young slip of a thing such as yourself would have been shattered by now where I was born” she whispered, now uncomfortably close to the girl, dagger still in hand.

No physical threat had been made yet but she wondered whether she was terrified within, if she wold show it or continue too bluff. The strength of a character is often found…upon the tip of a blade. She produced the now under Sayren’s sweet little chin.

“She is a credit indeed, her skills are legendary. Do you know where she learnt them though? In the shyke-hole of a ton Sunberth. She can wield a blade as fine as anyone but she does not know how to watch her back against more subtle foes than thugs…that is where I come in,” she spoke, honeyed words with a blade beneath them, “I kill without conscience any who oppose me or wish harm to those I care for. You think you can protect Revy? Look me in my eye and tell me you can or even intend to!” she snapped, stopping there to reign back her emotional control.

“Nemesis….a source of harm or ruin. Or a retributive justice if you like it that way,” she continued, gaze still locked to Sayren’s to see the emotions dance there, a flickering show of human nature, “you ask no name of me and so you’ll get nothing other than Nemesis. Making love or rutting in a whorehouse – it’s all petching in the end”

“And you..Sayren..have been petching in the wrong house” she lashed out verbally then, the tip of the dagger creeping closer to the woman.

“I cannot blame Revy…but you. You I can blame. Did you know of me before you tasted those lips? Do you know who I am now?” her lips were next to Sayren’s ear now, “who am I little mare? And what have you got to say for yourself?”

[Sayren WindDancer]

Sayren couldn't help but to give a minor twitch of her lip as the woman so effortlessly swayed the dagger side to side. After a few odd moments of silence, the woman finally bolted upwards, claiming that Sayren doesn't understand the definition of strong. She even whispered something about how Sayren would be broken to pieces from where she was from. Keeping with the uncomfortable close proximity near Sayren with the dagger still in tow. Where she finally placed it under Sayren's chin.

Sayren gulped. She had never felt the sting of a cold steel blade so close to her throat. Zandelia then continued on describing Revy as legendary in skill and prize worth having. Despite those finite abilities, Revy was less than competent towards the more subtle foes. The woman claimed she would kill without conscience to anyone who would do harm to her or bring her opposition.

"You think you can Protect Revy?" The woman asked. Demanding that Sayren look her in the eye with her answer. But before Sayren could produce one, the woman continued once more. Saying the word Nemesis. A source of harm. A retributive justice. Her cold eyes gazing into Sayren's. Perhaps to see if Sayren was scared. Or even terrified. By all means, she was. But she wasn't going to give in so easily. She was not going to give the woman that satisfaction. However...she couldn't stop the one stream that ran down her cheek.

The woman was right though, Sayren hadn't asked her for a name. The woman didn't care if it was love or gallivanting amongst whores. Petching was petching. And Sayren had petched in the wrong one. Or so the woman claimed as she pressed the dagger more against Sayren.

Revy couldn't be blamed. However, Zandelia could blame Sayren. Thus, she asked more questions. Even came close to Sayren's ear with her lips.

Sayren closed her eyes for a moment. She needed to gather herself. Take a deep breath. She opened her eyes up, trying her best to be as calm as possible. "You may blame me, but I have done nothing wrong. I did not know of you before I tasted her lips...she had kissed me first. I knew we were both confused from the beginning. She was hesitant around me first, but then she welcomed me. Into her heart and into her bed. It wasn't until later when she had finally spoken of you. Explained why she was hesitant. You are Zandelia. And I am Sayren WindDancer. I have traveled far from my home in hopes of training under the Master Fighter, Ximal. I have learned much under his tutelage. As I have learned much from Revy. Now that Ximal has disappeared, Revy has become my full mentor. It's because of that, I don't spend all the time I wish with her. She keeps at a distance while we are student and mentor. But the moment it ceases. She embraces me...And I welcome it."

Her teeth were gritting in frustration now, "It's not just a petch! I'd gladly die for her! But I'm not ready to die just yet...I still must become stronger...so I can defeat my father..."

[Zandelia]

It was both gratifying and depressing how predictable the whole scenario was becoming. The girl was terrified, though to her credit she did not show it on the surface overly much. A single trail tears skirted over her delicate cheekbone and continued onwards to the tip of her chin. Zandelia brushed it away with her free hand – she was monstrous but she was not overly cruel. Not unless she needed to be. This was how manipulation went, threat and kindness. Oh there were other ways but truly the best was to make a rack for the other person to torture themselves with. It was more efficient and less costly than an army of thugs. She smiled and drew back slightly, cupping Sayren’s chin briefly and testing that gaze once more.

She certainly has spirit she noted with begrudging respect ever so slightly earned. She had not buckled, nor caved as easily as appearances would suggest.

“Ximal was a fool at many things but as a fighter he was respectable. I fought him once you know, to a draw. He was quicker, stronger and much more talented but he forgot the true rule of fighting – it’s about creativity. He could never fully grasp that real fights are fluid, they aren’t forms of poses and techniques” she mused out loud and turned her back upon the woman momentarily.

She walked away a pace, still within arm’s reach and span around quickly to bring the bade in her hand across in a fake slash that would have caught jugular if not for the space now betwleen them. She would remember this moment, the time that she had been granted a reprieve from that most final and coldest of embraces. She smiled dangerously before presenting the dagger’s pommel for inspection.

“Remember that lesson, for you will die next time if you do not learn it and Revy doesn’t deserve that grief when some intelligence would have stopped it from forming. Always suspect, always be moving and if you see a stranger in a room be more cautious next time,” she continued with a sigh, vengeance and its desires were pointless – Revy would need a comfort and protector in the coming days.

“Yes…I am Zandelia. Though the name I am known by here is Amelias and you had better petching well remember that! You may be willing to die for her but she would only end up dying avenging you. Remember that” she finished before slipping the dagger back into its sheath and sitting upon the bed once more.

She looked at Sayren again, this time with a differing eye. She was plucky, solid and had a goal in mind – this she had teased from her. Or rather…manipulated out of her. She was attractive of course, knew what she wanted and tried to please her…mentor. She even had good taste in clothing. Zandelia knew whom she would bet upon and it wouldn’t be herself. Revy and Sayren were just too similar to not conclude in this eventuality. And Sayren clearly had deeper feelings than carnal desire. She had also not only made the first move and so was not entirely to blame – Zandelia’s chest lurched a little at that. It was difficult to admit she was herself to blame somewhere along the line too.

“I care for Revy Sayren, enough to kill for her. If she loves you then so be it, but I will not allow you to get her killed. If you do I will hunt you down and you will learn the meaning of retribution. Now…that said…tell me of your father” she instructed to a look of surprise upon the Winddancer’s face.

“I am not a fool, Revy would follow you there and I have my own affairs to attend to. I ask in case there is some way in which I can help you and make sure the only person in my life who I love does not get damaged by your vengeance. Tell…me!”

She patted the bed next to her and her tone brooked no arguments.

[Sayren WindDancer]

Sayren almost flinched from the brisk movement of Zandelia's hand. She was more shocked when she realized that the woman had caressed her cheek to wipe away the rogue tear that managed to slip away from Sayren's eye. The woman was harsh, but why show such act of warming kindness? The woman then placed the hand at the tip of Sayren's chin as they exchanged gazes.

"Ximal was a fool." Zandelia had stated blatantly. However, she did credit him on how he was a respectable fighter of note. They even had a spar with one another, which ended with a draw. Though Ximal had his strength and speed, Zandelia pointed out that he lacked creativity. Fighting wasn't meant to just be stances and positions, but fluid and ever changing.

Zandelia had backed away, turning around so that she faced away from Sayren. It made Sayren relax in a moment of reprieve, letting her shoulders lull with an exhale of breath. Then she stiffened once more with widen eyes as Zandelia swiftly pivoted on her toes and slashed Sayren's jugular. Or at least made it appear that was her intent. The woman smiled malevolently as she inspected her dagger.

"Yes. I am Zandelia." The woman confirmed. Not that Sayren honestly needed it now. However, Zandelia stated she had an alias name that she went by around Nyka. Amelias. That explains the other name Revy had spoken of. And Sayren nodded in agreement of her lesson when the woman said that even though Sayren would die for Revy, Revy would die in her attempts to avenge Sayren.

A few ticks of silence passed by, perhaps the woman was still examining Sayren. There was a brief moment of pain on her face. Maybe from when Sayren had said Revy had kissed her first. The woman probably just wanted to put all this blame on Sayren and just leave Revy out of it, but the truth was...it wasn't all just Sayren.

"I care for Revy, Sayren. Enough to kill for her." The woman tried to pass off that she didn't care if Revy had loved Sayren, but that didn't seem to be the case to Sayren. It seemed obvious to her that Zandelia was hurt by it. Maybe not quite to the point of jealousy, but the pain was very much present. Then after issuing a quick threat to Sayren, Zandelia had asked about Sayren's father.

Sayren tilted her head as her eyebrow cocked up in confusion. Now why would the woman want to know anything about her father? The man's wrath was far from the reaches of Nyka, and as far as Sayren knew, the furthest he had gone from Nyka was to Syliras.

Then Zandelia explained herself by saying she wasn't a fool. Revy wouldn't hesitate to follow Sayren. She had only asked out of curiosity to see if she could help, just to make sure that Revy wouldn't get hurt by Sayren's vengeance. Then had quickly patted the bed beside her.

It didn't seem like the woman had left her many options to argue with, so Sayren simply just sighed and sat down beside Zandelia. Her posture was stiffened and awkward. She didn't want to lean towards Zandelia nor did she want to touch her, mainly in hopes of not trying to upset the woman further.

"Well...to begin. It's not a quest for Vengeance. Not completely...My father, his name is Dangrie WindDancer. A well respected warrior amongst the members of the Diamond Clan. I left Endrykas because I just couldn't take my father's cruelty. He was originally a kind man. But after my mother's death...it changed him. I could no longer fight alongside my brothers, no longer hunt with them...All I was to him then was just some cow that needed to bred with either an Ankal, or one of their misogynistic sons. I couldn't stand that, especially when most of the sons have three or four wives already. I wanted a choice to be with who I wanted...just like how my mother spoke of how the Sylirans wedded."

Her eyes seemed to dull with shame now as she stared at the ground, "I promised my brothers I would come back...that I would defeat our father and free them from his grasp...for Yusuf, it's already too late. He has become my father's hound. But Gravun? He has a mind, but he could never disobey our father. He respects the man too much, despite his cruelty amongst them. And that's what inspired me to train. To find the greatest of masters and train under them. The syliran Knights wouldn't help me...but that was when I heard of Ximal, and had made way for Nyka..."

She gave an insecure chuckle as she ran her ingers up and down her arms, rubbing them nervously, "Sorry...Guess I gave you more than you asked for..."

[Zandelia]

She waited in silence for Sayren’s obedient actions, it was expected and therefore produced. It was something learnt recently that if you wanted obedience, luck or various other occurrences then you had to make room for them – and most importantly to expect them. Still it was mildly amusing that even though the weapon was now away Sayren sat down both hesitantly and a good portion of the bed away from her. It was to be expected given the past few chimes but amusing nonetheless.

If I had the time I could make more of her…perhaps one day she thought, pushing the thought aside and instead listening intently to Sayren’s tale – or the short version of it.

She was sure there were more words that could be said, more fact given but she understood caution in these matters – Zandelia was hardly a friend. Still it often paid to listen to the gaps in such a story’s telling as it was these that contained the missing pieces of fate. Things the other did not want you to know. It as a sad tale but all too predictable, the world was a harsh place. Brutality often beget brutality and in all honesty she did not bother to tell Sayren that the path she was on would likely ruin her too – some things had to be learnt rather than told.

“More than I was expecting yes, but perhaps not all of it. It does not matter” she spoke, her voice dulled.

She knew the feeling but for different reasons. She was not inclined to spill her own secrets as Sayren had just done – it would not be becoming of a spy to do so. She’d never hear the end of it for one thing and only Akajia knew what would happen if the information spread further. No, she would tell no tales of her own but she could still advise perhaps. It was the least she could do for the one Revy loved more than herself. She paused, wondering how best to impart some form of wisdom.

“Strength is pointless if not marshalled correctly. Wade into the camp on a tide of blood and you would only die needlessly. When you do it, if you decide to do it, cross the bridge via trickery. It works more easily than force”

“Disguise yourself or convince him you have seen the error of your ways. Let his guards rut with you if that is what it takes. Open legs have opened more doors than a thousand, thousand blades”

“Slit his throat in the night, your brothers too if being freed by death is better than their current life. But do it quietly and then leave…like a shadow” she finished with a sigh.

She looked at the girl, so naïve and so inviting. She was a pretty icon of how life could beat you but you could survive mostly unsullied. It was too late for Zandelia but it might not be too late for Sayren. Youth should deserve a few more chances.

“But then you would be me I suppose, and no one wants to be me,” she mused aloud, “is there anything you need? Weapons? Money? Connections? I have much to offer for those willing to ask and…negotiate” she asked.

[Sayren WindDancer]

The woman had listened to Sayren's tale. Though much longer than the young drykas had intended it to be, she couldn't help it. The drykas loved to tell their tales, whether it was happy, jolly, or tragic.

The woman had agreed, it was more an answer than she had expected. But it earned a bit of wisdom from the woman. Strength was pointless if not marshalled correctly. If Sayren were to approach the camp in need of blood to be drawn, she would die a pointless death. Should the bridge be crossed, it was best to cross it with trickery rather than brute force.

Zandelia's next suggestion, put a cringe on Sayren's stomach. To spread her legs. She couldn't think of such. She'd rather die than to let her body be plundered of her pride. Then finish the deed on the eve of night, when all our asleep and are none the wiser.

Sayren gulped. It was not an idea she had considered. Nor one she'd would ever find herself to ever again ponder. Sayren then found the woman in a small chuckle, saying that it was something she would do. Only to realize that Sayren was nothing like her. None in the least...

What happened next surprised Sayren. Zandelia had offered assistance. Any item of need. Weapons. Funding. Possible connections. She had much to offer for anyone willing to ask...so long as there were...negotiations.

Without thinking, she whispered, "I always wanted a sword..." But caught her tongue immediately after. A sword could easily be earned in other ways. As could money. Connections however? That was something she didn't have. "I...understand that I don't know much in the ways of Vassals...Whisperers and Spies. But I don't want to use them to harm my father. My father is a personal score. I would wish them to be used for protection. Money could always be earned, as well as weapons with the money. So if I must ask for anything, it's help within that area of expertise..."

Now to find out the catch...

"For such a thing...what should be negotiated?...I assume such services can't be...cheap..."

[Zandelia]

Zandelia couldn’t help but smile at the woman’s initial response, the myriad desires of youth rampaging within her confused form and coming up with the simplest and least valuable of things. Almost inconsequential and yet the first thing requested. Zandelia supposed she had been that young once but she was damned if she could remember being so. The years seemed to fly until the here and now, nothing but dusty recollection in their wake. She tilted her head as she considered the request and already knew she would provide one – it was easily done and relatively inexpensive.

An extra weapon never hurt anyone after all and Revy will need Sayren to have as many as possible to stand at her back she reasoned, counting up the favour and weighing the comparative price.

It was not as much as she would like, she wanted Sayren in her debt. It was childish but she liked to possess control in most situations – especially when she was not present. It was harder of course but not entirely impossible to do. Debt was by far the easiest of things to conjure up in the blink of an eye, or the conversation of the afternoon. Time was of the essence and so it was the only thing she dared try – everything else was too unstable. It was not as personal as she liked, personal usually held longer, but it would have to do.

“A sword you shall have at any rate, a decent one worthy of a fine warrior. Scabbard and harness as well I would imagine. Useless otherwise. I will have Revy give it to you when next you meet” she purred back, tone encouraging.

“There is more though surely?” she almost whispered, rhetorically and the girl continued her requests.

The rest of her request was more intelligent and thought through, she wanted connections. Zandelia was surprised that she wanted them not for assault but for defence. For someone who had a grudge Sayren seemed unwilling to actually ram the blade home. The quicker things were done the easier it seemed. Still, she did not press the matter overly.

“I can give you names of a few people who could help watch over you, in various cities. Here of course and elsewhere. A good negotiator claims their price first and then divulges what they will in return. I cannot promise you invulnerability, life is harsh. I can only offer assistance. Your mistakes will be your own of course, though I give you Revy and that is a large prize to claim. I could try and force her to come with me…but I won’t. Call it part of your agreed terms”
She would give no more than that as in her shadowy world help had to be bought in advance. Not even she could get things for free. Direction is what she could give, nothing more. She turned and smiled.
“As for a price….not a huge thing for such initiatives, something small perhaps. I do not need to barter that you will look after Revy as you will do that already. No I think I can read you well enough. So…you tell me? What do you think is worthy in return? Wait. I will give you a choice. Personal or professional?” she placed her hand upon the woman’s forearm and awaited the price she would offer.

And prices, of course, can always be shifted with enough persuasion she noted.