Lost on the Streets of Alvadas (Syndela)

[Rafaelle]

Their patience was wearing thin, although Rafaelle asked them to wait patiently. "Are you alright there, dear?" Screamed Priscilla, needing constant assurance that her fiance is alright. No answer came though, except for shuffling. Something was certainly going on. "Just wait, m'am. Everything will be just fine." The young trickster tried to assure the aroused female.

The female whirled around to face the rogue with her face swollen with red. She was enraged and for daring to open his mouth, Rafaelle turned out to be the scapegoat. "How dare you!? My future husband is out there fighting bravely with the unknown while you are just loitering like some... some... useless carcass and blowing empty words into thin air! Why if I-" Her rant was suddenly interrupted with a loud noises coming from the neibghouring alley. She looked startled again for a second, and while Rafaelle remained completely imperturbable, impervious to her threats falling upon deaf ears.

Without a word, he took the preemptive move to lead them there, expecting the whole troupe to follow. "Wh-what if it's the wolf? What if-" murmured the drunk with a worried blurry look to him. "Shut up, Godrick and come along!" Bermont interrupted him while helping support the fainted female.

Amidst the barrels of trash that had unluckily bathed him in whatever contents they held, fishbones, old parchments, bottles, Darcy was thoroughly shocked as he just lay there, almost completely limp. "Darcy!" Yelled the pink female and slipped past Rafaelle with a weak but a rude shove with her shoulder. Watching her walk as fast as she could in those high heels was quite funny as well, the young rogue thought to himself. The others remained behind not too far away their eyes still darting about for any dangers. They wanted out of here as soon as possible.

"Oh, look at you!" The female spoiled her future husband with a hug and sweet words even though he remained almost as stiff as a corpse. She wiped some dirt off his cheek with a pink handkerchief that matched her dress and hair. But as soon as he took a deep breath and finally looked at her with a deep inhale and eyes as wide as twin moons, coming to his senses, the woman's demanour changed completely. From that sweet lulling and caring motherly figure she turned into a ruthless cruel and spiteful harpy.

A loud slap landed on the man's cheek to add to his general confusion, and then a drum of two small fists upon his stomach. "Don't you dare run away from me like that again! You hear?! Don't you ever dare!" She continued on yapping, and Rafaelle deemed it right to turn away. Awkwardness crawled down his collar unpleasantly. But he did his job...

When the pair was finally calm, or at least had barely any vigor left to wrestle with each-other, he proposed. "Shall we move on then, ladies and gentlemen? I am glad that you have finally reunited but we are not out of danger just yet.." He turned his head back and forth between the pair on the ground and the others who huddled together like a small pack of penguins.

[Syndela]

Calmly, Bermont heaved the female in his arms, gently shaking her in hopes she would wake up to see that Darcy was perfectly still intact. The slap had awoken the reunited nobleman to his senses, shaking his head as his fiance pummeled his stomach with tiny fists like a punching bag. " Priscilla! " Darcy exclaimed in much glee, hope and other good things. His weak but masculine arms pushed into the wooden contraption, slowly elevating himself out of the smelly rubbish. Broken bottles, jars, rotten vegetables and the juices excreted from them littered the bottom of the can. Thankfully, his buttocks remained unharmed, probably due to the thick padding in his dress pants.
Darcy and Priscilla enveloped eachother in a flurry of movement, the sounds of wet quick kisses filling the chilly night air. " Awww..." Godrick sighed, clapping his hands together like a seal as his eyes filled with tears. What drama...

" Come on then, I'll lead us to the manor. " Declared the female in the cyan dress. " Of course, Violet , but what about Kimberly? She is out cold! " Bermont shook the yellow and black dressed body, hoping for a sign of hope she would wake up.
" Bring her to the manor. I'll have the nurse take care of her. " Plucking up the blue hems, Violet beckoned the others to follow her up the hill.
" Thankyou for sav- " Priscilla told Rafaelle in an astonished tone. All hatred towards the commoner vanishing behind sincerity. Though, Darcy cut in before she could truly thank him. " Let us tell him our gratitude once we get out of here. Follow me, now. " Dominantely, Darcy walked past still holding his fiance's hand, dragging her along with a sudden tug and forcing her to keep up with demand.

The nobles paced up the cobblestone road, pants and whispers of breath tracing white lines of steam into the cold nightly air. Lights from the temple flicked ahead like candles in a dark room, beckoning the group and the two outsiders to draw in. Like moths to a lantern.

Upon reaching the top of the hill, the sight and size of the temple suddenly vanished. Cobblestone turned to pristine walkway, lamposts to garden beds.
Instead of the Temple of Ionu there was a large marble manor. The exact size of the ivory shape was unknown, as the formation of it's structure was bent, seeming to form a 'U' shape.
In the centre of the walkway held a fountain, the figurine of a horse with water spurting out of its mouth. Seats spanned on both sides of the water feature, the path turning to green. Though, insead of an expansive and vastly adorned garden were lines and rows of rope. Each line held lush vines, coiling tightly around the wire that ran between posts.

The female in Cyan seemed to be the wine producer of this region...or at least, a contributer of. The vineyard itself did not span far, before the walls and rooves of other well maintained buildings rimmed along the border.
" We are safe! " Shouted Priscilla, gleefully winding herself around Darcy's arm. Darcy smiled and pulled his woman closer, the pungent perfume never before being this reassuring. The group lead beyond the fountain and came to stop at the stairs. White stone traced up to two gargantuan doors, stained glass windows adorning both in a symphony of colour.

" I must thank you, Commoner. Without your aid, Darcy may have been left to fend by himself for tonight. Your help and guidance will not go unchecked. " Priscilla announced to the group and to herself as the hand reached between her breasts. Only this sequence yielded two objects; one being the pink stage fan and the other an expensive coin purse.

Having kept up with them was an easy task, but now as she laid hidden in the vineyard did Syndela feel the conclusion to her show climaxing. It had been most joyful. Lined with drama, moral valu- wait, she wasn't a critic. But being a showsperson herself she just couldn't help it. Blood red irises leered between each figure, catching each word of conversation. His words of promise had lured her to rescue the pampered prince known as Darcy, but now it was the moment of judgement.

[Rafaelle]

The rogue could not take his eyes off the majestic palace and its splendorous features as they walked inside. It was all shaped as if by magic. Certainly such architecture must have something to do with magic. A part of him truly wished to explore the interior of the manor but he quickly dismissed the irrational wish. Enough of adventures for today. Although there was no warm bed waiting for him. What a tragedy.

He was brought back to sobriety by the sound of Priscilla's fat purse jingling in her grasp. And it was about to get a little bit thinner. The rogue grinned deviously at that gratifying thought. Darcy's patience wore thin for he was not the kind to shower others with gratitude, deserved or not. Dramatically, with a 'bah' sound the nobleman whirled around and walked up the stairs. The colossal doors came ajar and light poured out. Their coming was already noted at the gates, apparently, or perhaps even earlier. With the snobby man, followed the rest of the gentry except for Priscilla, sparing but a final glance at their supposed 'savior'. There were flickers of gratitude in their eyes, but the light coming from inside the wondrous house blinded him. Not that he cared, anyway. He was too busy trying to keep track of that purse.

Priscilla nodded to the group, sending them on their way with a languid look over her shoulder before turning back to Rafaelle. Her demeanor changed to ... business-like and strict. "How much would you like for your services, mister.... ?" She inquired for his name as well her eyes peering at him searchingly. Since the light shined in Rafaelle's direction, he could not properly see her, but she had the advantage of having him completely exposed. Not that it really mattered, he thought, albeit a seed of worry burrowed itself in his chest.

"Godfrey. Sir Godfrey. And I am sure six gold coins for all the trouble will do, m'am." Rafaelle told the fake name almost automatically and all too fast. The shrewd woman narrowed her eyes while two of her delicate fingers browsed through the moneybag. She was no fool, of course, and clearly suspected of a lie. And he asked for much. Yet it was late, and she was just too tired to bicker with a lowly commoner. Let him have his coin and then begone.

"Here you go, Sir Godfrey." She murmured with an almost sarcastic tone while pouring the coins onto his open palm almost carelessly without breaking eyecontact. and Rafaelle could swear that pink-wigged woman evinced a hint of a crooked smile . That smile which said "I know your secret". But he could not be too sure for he was just as tired, the adrenaline having worn off by now and the weight of sleep debt settled itself upon his shoulders and eyelids.

She opened her fan and began waving at herself in that flamboyant manner while roving her eyes arrogantly over Rafaelle's figure for the last time. "Good night, Sir Godfrey." She said soundly, her voice cold, metallic. "Good night..." He muttered in response as she disappeared behind the heavy doors. This was it. He grew growing weary of their company and was glad to rid of them at last.

With no escort to send him on his way, the rogue turned around to walk out onto the first street alone, away from the expensive residence. And there he stood, stiffling a few tired yawns and patiently awaiting for that sneaky spider-woman to show herself. It was impossible for him to track her even though early morning was upon Alvadas. It was too dark and his sight was becoming blurry.

[Syndela]

Silence bestowed the manor's front, heavy doors slowly creaking shut and landing with a clang. Early morning broke through the clouds, whispering calls of the winds gently shaking the vines. Vision began to feel shortened as the cold intensified, suspending the garden in a curtain of fog that wove under the vines and around the fountain. Stars faded with the settling ground cloud, turning the fog into a silvery white mane of sparkling splendor.

Awaiting for the trickster to make a safe distance away from the manor, she made her presence sighted once more. Black robes fluttered in the still breeze, forging out of the shadows and appearing within the white. Icy breath held suspended in this reality, adding to the growing thicknesss that prevented sight seeing into a few yards away.

"What are you doing, human. " The question was more of a statement, with no elevation at the end of the sentence. Red orbs enclosed on the figure ahead, her own coming to meet him face to face so he wouldn't turn hostile. At least for now.

Alvadas would had been laid out before them, being high up and able to see the ocean and dockyards below if it had not been for the icy curtain that surrounded them. Though not extremely heavy, it did make the Symenestra shiver lightly, holding the dark robes closer to her chest with a pale claw.

" Your ways are perplexing. Confusing. But smart, yes. " Syndela let a silence issue between the two, only interupted by the clearing of her throat. " A sly man you are... The show was most entertaining. It was better to watch than sit up on the rooves and do nothing. "

Barely visible from under the black hood wore a smile, pointed fangs splaying over darker lips. The Symenestra was of two minds about this. Part of her wanted to wound this man and run away with the money all to herself, the other wanted to stay and wait her turn patiently. She couldn't fully understand why she was being so leniant with this boy. What made him so special? He was just another thug, a trickster, a joker...a human. She smelt magic about him, she was sure. But from where...what was this cunning thief hiding...

Swatting a glare toward his necklace, she remembered the faint tinkle of light washing over it's surface as he rubbed it. His eyes, so promising, encouraging her to take chance and heed his plea.
" Your necklace. " The pale woman stated sparcely, smile fading from mouth.
" Beforehand, I sensed when you rubbed it you were attempting something..."

Crimson eyes once more snapped up to his, the silvery grey eyes locking with her own. Instead of lashing out and punishing him for pulling out his book of dark secrets on her unready mind, she felt calm - the fog cooling her supple temper.
" Why..." Syndela asked, her head tossing just slightly to lift her chin. " Why did you do that to me? "

[Rafaelle]

Those red rubies burrowed into his silvery orbs. They did not condemn or judge but they were full of curiosity. Through the thin veil of diaphanous mist he let his weary features soften for a vague mysterious smile.

"I am well aware of the racial hatred between humans and the other similar species. They envy us for our supremacy. Our mighty nations and castles. We envy them for their innate abilities and gifts. Some may refer to you as abominations because their aversion is bred of covet. I do not hope for a better world for anybody but myself, since I believe there will always be war to settle the differences between humanoid species. And even if one was to come victorious, ubiquitous humans no doubt, they will fight each-other to constitute their dominance over one another..." He paused for a moment to take a breath. There were bags under his eyes, and his shoulders were sinking. He was tired. He continued, nonetheless.

"And your question... I presumed that you would not help me unless I used supernatural means to gain your trust..." His fingers fiddled with three coins, half of what he... they earned tonight. Two for her services. And one as a bonus for being a cute little Symenestra sidekick. He approached her and extended the sum in the palm of his left hand. "Your share. There is honour among thieves and I respect that." He flicked his eyes to the glinting coins and then back to her. "You may call me Rafaelle, by the way." Again, he smiled at her and waited for a reaction.

The morning dew was slowly settling in. The most uncomfortable time of the year for sure. His fingertips were already freezing and he could not help but shiver lightly as a natural reaction to the pervading chill. His thoughts trailed off somewhere. Somewhere onto a warm fur rug before a fireplace and a nice book to read. He liked books, yes, as long as they had pictures.

Or magic.

[Syndela]

Steadying an iron gaze, the robed woman continued to keep her bloody orbs locked with his, even with the added weight of coin filling her extended hand. Tracing a thumb over the gold coin, the sensitive pad clarified they were indeed gold coins. Hastily, the fingers pulled the salary to her waistpouch, pushing it into one of the inner folds for safeguard.
Words of wisdom spilled from the thieve's mouth, contorting her views and judgement into a twisting nether of mess. He was intelligent, ether that, or so very cunning that even the smartest of phrases were rimmed with a chaotic underlay of deception and mischievous cruelty.

Furrowing her black brows, the female concerned Rafaelle with a studious inquisitve glance, seeking to undo his words to reveal the package of brain that it oozed out from. What an unusual creature...

" The destructive ways of your own race akin to that of mine, though we are not dying simply from civil or external wars. My people are dying, Rafaelle... If humans had the same methods of upbringing as we, then just perhaps they may rethink of themselves and the other races that share this land... It is then that life will seem more precious to them. "
Silken black cloth sunk against her frame, being pulled underneath by the hands of the Symenestra who found the low temperature to her distaste.
" My name is Syndela, but I give this to you in understanding you will not abuse your magic with me again. " Crimson orbs fell against the heirloom necklace before striking contact with his own once more. " If you agree to this, then I will lay down my arms against you. Your kind means little to me, Rafaelle, but it seems we both share a similar pattern of thought..."

Another expression tugged at the woman, something that she rarely bore to anyone, let alone a stranger. A delicate but subtle smile pulled her lips to widen, creasing the lips together to force the fangs behind rather than draw them in front. A friendly and universal gesture of acceptance.

[Rafaelle]

He was glad to see that faint smile on Symanestra's translucent lips. It appeared to be the only source of warmth in amidst slowly waking Alvadas. His eyes strayed to her lips, back to her eyes, back to her lips... and then to her petite form. Having gained some pleasure from scrutinizing her with a weary eye, he smiled back, this time more sincerely. However, there was always something more behind that smile. Perhaps an ulterior motive or some thought he relished in and did not want to share.

Other humans were of no concern to him. They were expendable. They were always there and everywhere so the rogue took them as granted. Her kind was rare yet he found little value in worrying for the sake of Symanestras. The rogue doubted they would have been wiped out during his lifetime nor was it his concern. They were nothing to him.

Having finally acquainted himself with Syndela did not change his views the least but she was somebody to him now. Not just some alien in a gray mass of a crowd. Her name, her face, her voice. His capacious memory imbibed it all, and she would stay there for a long time. Rafaelle was not exactly sentimental though, and he shrugged off the thoughts of familiarity shortly after. In truth, it all flashed in mere moments somewhere beneath his consciousness, in his sub-conscious but he could understand it all too well.

There was much they could have discussed together but he shared enough words with her for tonight. His opinions and knowledge will stay locked behind the smouldering silver of his eyes. For now.

"Ah, Syndela. Such a beautiful name for someone who possesses the exotic allure to match it. Tell me then, Syndela, when will you grace me with your scintillating performance? Where shall I find thee among the treacherous streets of this here city?" He locked his gaze with hers once more. Perhaps someone who had not faced the horror and repercussions of magic or something similar of nature would have found the red hue of her eyes disturbing, for it was predatory and cunning. But he found clandestine beauty deep within.

[Syndela]

Briefly did the smile stay until it too vanished into the dark behind the black silk robes. Hood pushed over until just her chin was visible, the cold unsettling the female into motion. Adhering his words, she twisted gracefully, the motion flicking out the robe in a perfect arc. Sways of light reflected off the heirloom silk as fog began to cover her retreating figure. Smoldering like a hot stone descending into an icy pool.

The look he gave her before she turned away did not go unheeded. How very cleverly the silvery orbs turned curiously hungry then they fell upon her lips and figure. So, behind his brain did lie a normal human? A being whose greed exceeded instinct and surpassed knowledge even in times when it was inappropriate. Brisky and frisky thoughts rustled through her head of manipulation and how she could use a human contact to better benefit her in this city. She was allowed to walk during the day, but almost all humans who saw her drew their weapons to their defense. Symenestra were a threat in human society.
Infact, the brief flashback of her running from them after they pursued her for miles still made her clench her fist. If only she could meet those men and women again. But even so, humans were not the only races that hated the spider people with a passion. Inarta, Kelvics, even Pycons conspired against Symenestra. Such a burden it bore, to be hated by so many.

" I come only during the night or twilight. Find me in the courtyard from wence you escaped and you will come alone. " Spinning around to face Rafaelle as she transcended through the fog did Syndela gave her last few notes. " Seek me in the coming of days, August on the third moon. Await me there. "

White and silver concealed the fading black form, crystallising the area around the human in pale cold. Above the fountain where the washing waters continued to pool neverendlessly from the horses mouth did the momentum chase away the fog, leaving Rafaelle space to see ahead into the thickening mist. Dark sky turned to purple, heralding the oncoming of sunlight. It was to only be a few hours until the rays of spectral broke through the clouds and with it the calling of song from birds both far and near.

Syndela knew she would meet of the curious Rafaelle yet again. She did not trust him to keep his word and so, next time will come prepared should intentions shift or change. Only time would be able to tell, but for now, the comfort of her bedroll beckoned her and from it's dark hiding spot would she sleep throughout the day until the call of night.

[Rafaelle]

Her words sounded distant to him now, and despite the dawning of light that was about to chase away the shadows of the night his vision blurred. The rogue strained to watch her depart from him but he was still focused enough to understand the meaning. They were to meet again. Yes, she did not trust him and he could guess with full certainty it was so. He did not strive to gain that trust either, despite its invaluable... qualities. As long as they were both satisfied and their part of the deal fulfilled in the unwritten contracts they made, it did not really matter.

Absently, he watched her leave without trying to track the exact direction of her departure. And then she was no more, her black figure dispersing into the mist like a ghost. Many thoughts raced through his mind. In fact, he was already half-asleep, dreaming. With a struggle of will, he chased away the somnolent cloud of slumber for there was still distance to cover before he could finally lay his weary head to rest.

With a sigh, he checked whether his belongings were still with him. That was of great importance to the thief. Always make sure you are not robbed yourself. After that, he treaded languidly on the slightly moist pavement towards the city. Will he get to the rundown shack they called an inn before noon arrives? Nobody could tell but he sure hoped so, feeling as if his feet carried him without his consent. They just walked and walked, carrying him off somewhere, into the enveloping mist of the early morning.

<The End>