9 comments/ 22682 views/ 28 favorites The Prince of Thieves By: Useli The market was where he first got his start. Young Atlas had been living on the street since he could remember...he didn't know his last name, didn't have a need for one. He also couldn't tell you just who his parents were and he didn't really care. When begging didn't work, he turned to thieving and had soon become quite the accomplished pick-pocket. But for the reward, it wasn't without perils. Many times when he first started he had been caught and nearly lost his life. But in the sprawling city of Solis there were always places to hide, and people willing to offer shelter from the guards...for a price. The years passed and he grew into a fit young man of six feet, with straw blond hair and eye's of light amber. He had barely come into his sixteenth year when he came across another thief, a woman by the name of Ella. She took him under her wing, teaching him everything she hard learned in her twenty-some years. Two years passed, and Atlas remembered it as two of the happiest years of his life. Then, as suddenly as she came she was gone... - - - Amazons were not an uncommon sight. Their soldiers were well trained, disciplined and dedicated to the art of war. Any soldier who had fought them and survived would attest to that. It was also a well known fact that they would NOT be taken alive. They would sooner kill themselves then be captured...it was the way of things. So, when one showed up for sale in the underworld it attracted some attention...as well as the attention of Atlas. Now, let it be said that his thieving was not motivated by greed, or compulsion. It was necessity that drove him to thievery. The need to survive. Though, just occasionally like ALL young men...he felt the need to show off. This Amazon was a prize in herself. He knew that any man would pay a vast sum simply to boast that he owned an amazon woman. It was rareity that Atlas knew had attracted the attention of even the king, though he would no doubt deny it. "...Let me see if I understand this," drawls Vergil. "You are goint to...steal another person?" "Exactly," responds Atlas, staring down at the crowded streets. A wry grin appears on his young face at the thought of that. "Tonight...the Prince of Thieves is going to steal from the king himself." Vergil crouches down and smiles. "Well, I believe that's called kidnapping. Though, only YOU would think of doing something this foolish...and you are the only one who could pull it off. Perhaps that is why you are the Guild Master, eh, Prince?" He glances up at the blond and then sighs. "So how ARE you going to do it?" "Now, that's a secret." "Well, then, what are you going to do once you have her?" Atlas simply shrugs in response. "You don't know? It's not like you can sell her again." "I calculate that once I do this, it will be the end of my stay in this city." He looks down both sides of the street. "I have a pair of horses waiting outside the city gates. Once we're free then I'll send her on her way." Vergil nodded. "Now...if you'll excuse me. I have some things to do." He turns and sprints across the roof-top, jumps the gap to the next building and dashes up a wall. He grasps the ledge hauls himself up and continues on his way. Time passes, and soon dusk is upon the city. Atlas had visited every one of his contacts for information, and had located the his target. The slaver had gone to GREAT lengths to keep his identiy a secret. No doubt for fear of being attacked, or black-mailed into turning over the Amazon. The Prince headed towards the man, with the crowd and the slaver paid him absolutely no mind. As he passed, with a steady hand and calm nerves born of years of practice, he relieved the man of his keys. The man paused several steps from Atlas and glanced back...before dismissing the whole thing and continuing on his way. The young thief smiled a bit to himself as he approached the slavers house. He unlocked the door and entered, closing the door silently behind himself. Finding the man's safe was an easy task...cracking it took time however, more then Atlas cared to admit considering how good he was as such things. When the tumbles finally fell into place he opened the door and smiled as he beheld all the gold, and more importantly the location of the Amazon. He KNEW that the slaver wouldn't keep her where he sold all the other's from, it was like keeping a diamond out in the open for all to see. It simply isn't a good idea if you want to keep it... - - - She was humiliated, disgraced. Before she had had a chance to end her life, she had been captured and restrained. Now she was going to sold into slavery. She had remained unspoiled for now, but that pride would be stripped from her when she was sold. Illia held her head in silence...no tears, simply acceptence. Tonight, she would be sold. She had ceased struggling against her bonds, having nearly dislocated her shoulders from the position pinned to the wall. Her eye's opened slightly when she heard foot-steps on the cold stone floor. The person approached her cell and she heard the key in the lock. Steeling herself, Illia attempted to glare at whoever dared to come through the door, though the position prevented it. The hinges loudly protested their use, and lack of oil as the heavy wooden and iron door swung open...but there was no one there. For several long, timeless moments there was no sound except for her not heavier breathing, and the thundering of her heart. When she started to relax, someone stepped in and her pulse lept. From the awkward position she could only see the person's feet. He wore black boots, that were obviously knee high. There were several buckles running the side, and she assumed they went to the top of the leather. More then his foot-wear, she could not tell. "Are you the bastard who bought me?" she spat. "You dishonorible, cowardly, piece of shit!" "Well, technically, I AM a bastard but I don't know about the other stuff," taunts the male. There's a sudden 'click' and she lurches forward, landing flat on her face. Her arms, which had been numb, began to tingle and prickle as the blood rushed back into the apendages. "And I'm not buying you...I'm stealing you." "You're worse then those others, then!" He laughs and crouches down. The boots were knee high, and he wore black woolen trousers, with a leather belt with several pouches on it. His tunic was sleeveless, and near form fitting with a hood to hide his face. It split open into two halfs at the bottom, and hung open near the neck. He had two thick leather bracelets, one around each wrist and a silvery ring on his finger. The man grasped her arms and shackled them together. Illia was furious. Bad enough to be captured, then freed. Now he had bound her hands once more. "Damn you..." "Well, I simply can't have you trying to kill me when I'm stealing you, can I?" He gave her a quick once over, quickly finding her arms to be useless. "I see your arms are still numb...how about your legs?" "I refuse to assist you, you cur! Son of--" He placed a hand over her mouth and sighed heavily. "Don't make me gag you. Because I will." He moved his hand and once more she began her insulting. True to his word, he gagged her with a bit of cloth and then lifted her, throwing her over his shoulder and exiting the cell. Illia would not deny she was happy to be free of that damned cell...however, as it stood she was prefer the waiting to this man. "You!" called a voice from the end of the hall. He turned and Illia could only assume that it was the slaver. "Stop! Now!" The man turned and fled down the hall in the opposite direction. He was swift, carrying her without much strain up several sets of stairs. She could see that they were following after them, what she DIDN'T see was his escape route. "I hope you can swim!" She glanced back at him in shock and then shut her eye's when he lept through a window, carrying her with him and three stories down to the canal below... - - - Atlas broke the surface of the water, dragging the kicking Amazon with him towards the bank. He pulled himself up and then her with him. The Prince threw her over his shoulder and took the stone steps up to the deserted street. She continued to struggle the entire time he carried her, though it didn't bother him in the least. He had just stolen from the king himself, and it was everything it imagined it would be. The sense of accomplisment he felt was simply amazing. The blond carried her down several alley's, back streets and otherways ways known, used and maintained only by members of the Thieves Guild. In no time at all they had arrived at the gates of the city. Leaving behind the walls, and buildings of the big city he looked around finding the horses waiting several yards away. "Good," he comments to himself. "Looks like you'll be going home after all." That immediately ceased her struggling. "Oh, NOW you stop fighting me." He approaches the horses and sets her down by one, only to feel the pressing of a sword to his back. A heavy sigh escapes the Prince as he glances back at none other then Vergil. "Good evening, Atlas," comments the thief. "I will admit that I had my doubts. But as always you never fail to surprise me." Several guards come rushing out of the city, swords drawn and lanterns lighting the way. "Exactly how much am I worth to the city guard?" "A job as a captain of the guard, and enough for me to live in luxery until the end of my days." He reaches up and yanks his hood down. "Now remove your dagger." The guards surround them in a semi-circle, preparing to kill them if they resisted. Atlas chuckles and it slowly turns into full blown laughter, making all of them uneasy. Vergil knew just how slippery the Prince was. He was always one step ahead. "No matter what you do, the Thieves Guild is finished." "The Guild will be empty when they reach it, Vergil." "You're lying. I was careful, there's no way you could have known." Atlas smiles and turns to face the thief. "Step back, Prince..." The young glances away and then nods. "Very well. I'll step back." He steps back two paces and a flaming arrow strikes the ground, seeing the oil soaked earth ablaze and seperating the two from guards. A small party of Amazon's on horse-back ride towards them. Vergil growls and turns away, running for the safety of the city, sounding the alarm the whole way. Atlas turns and nearly throws the Amazonian into the saddle before mounting his own horse and riding away with the others. Whether it was wise or not remained to be seen... - - - The horses came to a stop near the edge of the forest and Illia took a deep breath. She had never imagined that she would be returning home in her life...but she was still in shackles. She turned her gaze to the young thief who had apparently contacted her sisters to save her. The leader of the platoon, a woman she recognized as Zestia manuvered her horse close to her to examine her. "Did they hurt you?" she questions in her own language. "Did he hurt you?" "I am unharmed," responds Illia. "And unspoiled. It would seem that I owe that to him and your arrival." Zestia nods in understanding and then grasps her sisters bonds. "Do you have the key for these, thief?" Atlas tosses a key-ring to the woman in response. Several moments later, they click open and drop to the ground. Illia rubs her wrists and sighs happily. "Good to free again." She glances in the direction of Atlas, staring at the city of Solis in the distance. Illia had only known him for a few hours, so she was unsure what drove her to ask, "Where will you go?" "I have to go back," retorts Atlas. "I have to warn the Thieves Guild before the guard arrives..." She cocked her head slightly, a bit confused by his words. That simply didn't make sense. "But you're a thief. Why risk your life for other thieves?" "Wouldn't you risk your life for one of your sisters? More then that...it's a matter honor. The guard thinks that the I, the Prince of Thieves, am nothing but a push over. What better way to prove them wrong then by sneaking back into the city and stealing the crown right off of the kings head?" "Are you mad?" questions Zestia. "It cannot be done." "I freed your comrade, did I not?" He grins. "But your concern for me is flattering." The Amazon commander snorts in response and turns her horse away. "Our business is concluded. What you do is none of my concern." He spurs his horse back towards the city and Illia watches him go in silence. "We should return home now." "Y-Yes," agree's Illia. "That sounds agreeable..." - - - His heart was pounding in his chest as he stuffed all his papers, scrolls and plans into a bag. The Thieves Guild had been hit and they city guard was hunting down all those with connections to them...which included Kale. He had come to know the Guild Master, Atlas, some years ago when he had come to the inventor for the idea of a device to aid in escaping the guards. In exchange, he would recieve funding for whatever subject he sought to research, inventing being nothing but a mean's to fund that research. He would not regret associating himself with that man, not in the least. Atlas was amusing and paid well for whatever time the man spared him. Thrusting the final paper into the bag he headed for the door. There was a figure standing in front of the half open door. The man in black shoved it closed slowly. "You're not leaving...are you?" questions the man, slowly brushing back his hood. Kale exhaled heavily, not realizing he had been holding his breath. "Atlas," he comments. "The Thieves Guild was raided and the guards killed everyone. I thought you were dead." "I almost was, Kale. The Prince of Thieves is going to pull off one more job...but I'll need your help. Then, you and I are going to make our escape, and head south to the city of Atlantis." The inventor shoved his glasses up the bridge of his nose and nodded in agreement. Kale knew that the Prince had the mean's and the skills to get them were from the city of Solis and safely to the busom of the Thieves Guild in the port town. "What do you need, Prince?" A smile curved his lips and then died when someone pounded on the door. He pressed a finger to his lips and stepped back into the shadows moments before the door burst open at the shoulder of a burly guard, naked sword clutched in one hand and a lantern in the other. Two other guards followed him into the house and moments before he struck, Kale saw the light dance off the edge of the Prince's dagger. In the blink of an eye he was on the man in the back of the line. He gripped him by the hair, yanked his head severly back and slashed his throat easily. His crimson blood spattering his scarf a darker shade of red then it already was. The other's turned at the gurgling and resulting thud, but Atlas was too fast for the next. He stabbed just under the sternum, at an upward angle and pierced his heart. With visious twist he shreaded the organ and send more blood spilling across the stone floor. Gripping the man's shoulder her shoved him back into the final guard and sent the two toppling to the ground. The burly guard's face turned pale as a ghost as he stared up at his slain comrade and the Prince. The lantern had fallen from his grip and struck the ground, setting ablaze the papers that were so haphazardly tossed around the house in Kale's search for the most important documents. "Let's go." The two fled the blaze in silence, Atlas cleaning the blade of his dagger on the side of his pants and tucking it away into boot with a bit of manuvering. "Before the night is out, we'll have our backs to this city, Kale. I promise..." Hours passed and the city had calmed. But that was beyond his scope of hearing. The throne room was quiet now, too quiet for his taste. Atlas watched the throne in absolute silence from his perch at the window. It had taken the greasing of some palms, and the unfortunate loss of a few lives for him to get here but it was going to be his biggest score yet. But...it didn't seem right. Something was off. Hearing a sight shuffling he smiled a bit to himself and glanced in that direction. 'I see,' he muses to himself. 'They think to ambush me...well, I suppose I had best not keep them waiting any longer.' He grasped the curtain to his right, emblazoned with the kings crest, and slide down with ease. He dropped the final few feet silently and gazed around, quickly counting five members of the royal guard awaiting his arrival. He approached the throne, the crown sitting out for all to see. He had serious doubts about it being the real thing. So, instead of picking it up...he very boldy had a seat in the throne, throwing a single leg over the arm and relaxing. "You can come out now, my royal subjects," he taunts in his impression of the king. "Hiding must be most taxing." They stepped out of their hiding places and the doors were thrown open for, to the great surprise of Atlas, the king to enter. "Well! What a surprise!" He was NOT a benevolent man, but he had sense enough to run things in the kingdom well. He was short, not as tall or as deep in the chest as Atlas was but possessed a regal air, that he assumed must have been perfected over the years. "You're the street-rat that has my city in a stir," spits the king. "Not much to you, is there?" "You're not very friendly, are you? That is fine with me. I, the Prince of Thieves, have come here to steal the very crown from your head, King." "Prince?! I see only a gutter-snipe that was fortunate enough to evade the hangman's noose for some years! But that luck ends today, thief. Your arrogance will be the end of you." A smile curves his lips and he laughs. "I see." He stood up slowly and then reached back into one of the many leather pouches on his belt, producing a small sphere much like a marble. "Catch." He lazily tossed it to the king who made no move to do so. The moment it touched the ground it exploded, producing a vision obscuring cloud of white smoke. Several cries for the protection of 'His Majesty' rose over the coughing. Running foot-steps was another sound heard, though none of them could identify the person to whom they belonged to. The king fled down the hall, free of the smoke screen and glanced back in time for the Prince to sprint past, snatching the very crown from his balding head. He only noted a wry smile on his face as he fled into the depths of the castle, disappearing around a corner and down several halls. Atlas could hear them following behind, their commander shouting orders all the way. He stopped in front of a heavy wooden door and shoved it open. "Gotta hide..." - - - Illia ran a stone over the edge of the sword in silence, honing it to an edge beyond the one the swordsmith had given it. "Something troubles you," speaks Zestia. "It is that thief, isn't it?" She looked up at the woman sitting across from her, the crackling and popping fire seperating them. "Did he do something to you?" "Nothing of the sort," she replies. "He seemed honorible...or rather I should say, he seemed unknowing. I doubt that relationships between men and women were something he had time to study...if the stories hold true." "Stories?" "Just things I heard. The slavers were talking about him constantly." Zestia arched a brow in response. "What?" "What was your impression of him?" "Trustworthy...for an outsider." The commander shook her head immediately in response. "You don't believe me...I don't believe it, either. But that was my impression of that thief." "To survive as we do, as free women, we must not trust outsiders. You know this better then I." She nodded in agreement, seeing some truth in Zestia words...and yet a part of her found that if ever there was an outsider to trust, it was that thief, Atlas. "But if you are so concerned with his well being...there may be a chance that he can be welcomed into our village. We do sometimes take older males in." The Prince of Thieves Ch. 02 With a groan he awoke, mind fogged with pain and shoulder ablaze by some fire. He struggled to summon the words to curse at whoever had been foolish enough to brand their Guild Master, whether accidently or purposely. By instinct he turned away from that heat and immediately a fresh wave of pain swept through him from his opposite side, as though he had been dashed with a bucket of cold water. Whatever sleep lingered in his mind was immediately driven out and his eye's opened to find himself lying on a soft bed, in a small home. It all came back to him in a rush. His betrayal and escape from the city of Solis. "Ah, you're awake I see," speaks the familiar voice of Kale. He glanced in the direction of the voice to find the scholar sitting at a small desk. "How are you feeling? Miss Illia said that you might be in pain when you awoke." "I most certainly AM in pain," agrees Atlas through gritted teeth. A light sheen of sweat had broken out over his naked chest as a result of the explosion of pain and even now it threatened to make him cry out. "But I'm more interested in finding out just WHO this Illia is." He pushes his glasses back up and approaches. "Do you feel up to taking a walk, Prince?" He nods in response and with the help of Kale, leans up. The exertion makes him feel light headed, and weary. Atlas was close to passing out again, but paid it little mind as he headed towards the door on unsteady legs. Kale pushes the door open to reveal a small clearing, the midday sun splashing across the glade and illuminating everything. There was a loud 'whack' and both men glanced in the direction of a tall woman at the opposite side of the clearing. Her dusky skin and brown hair reminded him of that amazon he had saved. She planted the axe she was weilding firmly into the stump and gathered the split wood in a single arm, turning back towards them. Her green eye's met the young thief's amber eye's and a slight smile played at her lips. "I see you're awake," she announces, approaching slowly. "But you shouldn't be up and about." "There are plenty of things...I shouldn't do...but do," counters Atlas, between breaths. He felt so tired from just a few steps and was glad that Kale, small as he was, was helping to support him. He dared not attempt standing on his own for he feared that he might not remain standing for long. "Damn it...I feel so...weak!" "That's normal. The arrow went completely through your shoulder and instead of pushing it through, you pulled it back out. It was a foolish thing to do, Atlas." He cursed, furious at his own weakness. Kale turned, and puffing from the exertion, helped Atlas back to the bed and situated him there. Illia entered as well and placed the split wood by the fireplace at the other end of the room. Teetering on the edge of consciousness he did not hear the two of them speaking clearly before falling into the waiting darkness... - - - Weeks passed as he slowly recovered from his wounds, one of them made worse by his own doing. The kings soldiers tore the county-side apart in their search for the Prince but they were well hidden in the Amazon's forest. It was the first time that any male, let alone two that wasn't an amazon had been this close to their city. One, incapasitated in a bed and the other spending his days making note of all the herbs. Many were rare else where, but seemed to grow in great quantities here, Kale spent his time attempting to gather as much knowledge as possible. It wasn't long before Atlas was no longer bound to the bed and was up and about, seeking a bath and a stretch of his legs. Illia kept a close watch on him, not at ALL shy about ordering him around. The Prince was often too exhausted to argue with her and ended up back in bed to rest and recover. The king's search had not ceased and his soldiers had begun to stray closer and closer to the amazon's forest, while the Prince's strength began to return in leaps and bounds. Atlas, who was finally able to spend more then a few hours out of the bed was enjoying the sun on his skin, resting on the same stump that had been used to split wood in the past. He was listening to the calling of the birds and the scratching of quill on paper as Kale attempted to note the strange plant he had discovered growing close to the small place they had called home for the past few weeks. With the help of Illia's knowledge of herbs, his wounds had nearly healed and had range of motion had returned to normal, though he suffered from a bit of sensitivity. He heard the approach of a small group and glanced in that direction, seeing Illia and several females, one he recognized as the commander who had saved him from the hangman's noose once before. The Prince stood as they approached, placing a hand on his wounded side gently and giving them a wry smile. "Good afternoon," he greets. "It's been quite a while since we last met, I believe." Zestia looks him over. "It seems that you've made a full recovery," she comments. "You were half dead from blood loss last time I saw you." She noted the keen awareness that burned in his amber eye's and took in the defined muscles of his chest and arms. She had missed that in the past, as he had been shielded first by the cover of darkness and then by blood and bandages...but he was an outsider. She wouldn't entertain the idea of laying with the young man...seriously, anyway. "I owe my recovery to the Amazon's immense knowledge of herbs, Miss. It's been quite a while since I've said this to anyone but...thank you. All of you." "You returned one of our own to us...we were simply attempting to repay the debt." "Debt repaid. We should cease to be a constant burden by tonight." "Sounds like you've completely healed," comments Illia. "But you can't seem to move without holding your side...if you stretch too far then you're going to reopen that wound." "I'll take my chances. I believe it's best to leave now, while we're square. I don't like being in debt to another, Miss Illia. It simply doesn't sit right with me..." - - - Illia tossed a piece of wood onto the fire and stoked it with a fire-poker. For several weeks she had cared for that young thief and now that the debt she felt she owed him had been squared, she should be glad...and yet she felt uneasy. "Why do you look so restless, Miss?" questions Atlas. She glances back at the back at him. "I'm not restless," she counters. "Shouldn't you be in bed?" "Why did you go out of your way to save me?" He meets her eye's and holds her gaze. "As I understand it...Amazon's aren't too fond of outsiders like Kale and myself. And I DID treat you like a possession when we first met." "I was repaying a debt." "And now that it's repaid?" Illia snorts and stands. "You know...you could come with us." "Come with you?" The young thief sighs and looks at Kale, sleeping soundly while clutching a bundle of papers close to his chest. Even in his sleep he was unwilling to surrender them to anyone else. "Kale doesn't know this but...there's no Thieves Guild waiting for us in Atlantis. I also don't plan to stop running once I make it there. I have no doubt that he'll wish to stay there regardless. But I'm only going to linger long enough to raise a bit of coin before crossing the desert to Aer." "It's a dangerous crossing. There are bandits, and wandering tribes." "I know that. But there's nothing here for me anymore. The Guild was my home but now that is gone." Illia DID feel for the young man. What she had heard was from Kale was bad, but having gained something resembling a family only to have it taken by a friend...made it worse. "I...really should see more of the world." A smile curves the young man's lips. "And whether I see it alone, or at the side of a wanted thief, I suppose it will be the same." "Are you sure? It might get you a one way ticket to the gallows." She nods and his smile grows. "Wake Kale. We should depart soon..." - - - Kale was trying his best not to fall asleep in the saddle. The scholar glanced sidelong at the Prince and Illia. The amazon had forced him to ride behind her and he held tight to her tough leather armor. The man shoved his glasses up the bridge of his nose and yawned loudly. "I fail to see why we had to depart in the middle of the night," he tells them. "Haven't you learned anything from me?" questions Atlas. "The night provides the cover we need to slip by any soldiers we might encounter." He nodded in understanding and then looks at Illia. "And...why is she coming?" The woman glances over at him sharply. "I understand that we owe her a debt but...the Thieves Guild isn't exactly a--" "There is no Guild in Atlantis, Kale." He immediately halted his mount and after several feet, so did Illia. She turned the horse around to face the scholar, the Prince peering around her calmly. "The Thieves Guild existed only in Solis. I haven't told you because I didn't want to worry you." "Worry me?!" explodes the man. "Of course I'm worried! What are we supposed to do now?!" "I intend to fulfill my end of the bargain. Once we make it to Atlantis we can part ways and you'll never see me again, or you can continue with Illia and myself to Aer." "Across the desert? Are you mad?!" "Stop shouting," demanded Illia. "You are going to give our position away to ANY scouts in the area, Kale." He took a deep breath to calm himself. "What you do is up to you once we get there. Come with us, or stay there it doesn't matter to me. All that matters is staying alive." "You heard the lady," agrees the Prince. "Keep your voice down, Kale." He sighed heavily and nodded in response to Atlas' words. Both spur their horses in the direction of the city once more. "When we get to Atlantis, I'll line up a buyer for the crown." Atlas reaches back and pats the satchel hanging at his hip with a wry smile. "Should be easy enough." "You sound awefully confident," comments Kale. "How do you know someone will buy it?" "You've seen it, haven't you? There are more jewels on this crown then you're likely to find in the houses of all the nobility in Solis combined." "It's likey to get us a ticket to the gallows. We should throw it into the nearest river and be done with it." The Prince shakes his head immediately. "It's a bargaining chip in a pinch. If we throw it away, then we have no cards to play if we're caught." Kale pushes his glasses up again. "Very well. But I would like it noted that I believe this is a bad idea..." - - - Hours had passed and the sun had finally broken the horizon, warming the world with it's golden glow. Atlas closed his eye's and breathed deeply, enjoying the warmth...both from Illia and the sun. He had relaxed somewhat, though he still felt the fear of being run through by her sword was real so he avoided touching her anywhere that wasn't covered by her stiff leather armor. Atlas would admit that she was beautiful, as all amazon women were. Her skin was the color of freshly tilled earth and from what little he had seen of it, completely unmarred by scars and blemishes. She was tall as well, standing half a head taller then kale and nearly eye to eye with the young thief. And, ah, those green eye's of her's. A deeper green then any emerald, that burned so brightly in a normally dull world. Atlas was respectful of all women...but not completely immune to admiring her body, either. Her large breasts sat high on her chest and her hips flaired out beautifully. Her powerful legs would no doubt allow her to keep up with the swift young man on foot...good news if they had to flee in a hurry without the use of their mounts. "We should stop," she tells them, halting the horse. The young thief slid from the mount and sighed, stretching his legs slowly. Illia dismounts and leads the horse to a small stream to drink. Kale dismounted his horse and groaned. "How far have we travelled?" questions the scholar. "Please tell me we're close to Atlantis." "Hardly. I'd say we're quite a few days ride away...but ahead of the soldiers at least." Like Atlas, she takes a few moments to stretch her legs and looks around. Her emerald green eye's fall on the scholar and a small smile appears on her face. "You should get more sleep, Kale. You look tired." He grumbles a bit under his breath but otherwise doesn't complain. Atlas takes a seat on the ground and rests his elbows on his knee's. "I think she's right," agree's the thief. "You look tired." Kale sits down and sighs heavily, removing his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. While Illia checks the supplies, he reaches into the satchel and removes the crown, looking the gold and jewel encrusted item over. "This would look pretty good on me, don't'cha think?" Atlas places it on his head and grins at them, only earning a roll of the eye's from both of them. "Hard to believe he's making such a fuss over that thing. Simplicity is often the way to go." "Most people don't live the same way as the Amazons, Miss Illia. Anyway, it'll fetch a good price in the market...if I can get it to a good fence that is. We may make a tidy profit selling this, and we'll split it three ways." "Count me out. I don't want a single piece of that tainted gold." "Ok, then. Two ways it is." Kale puts his glasses back on and shakes his head. "What?" "I don't think it would be wise to take anymore gold from the Prince of Thieves," he tells him. "I cannot continue to travel and if word is passed around that I accepted some of the profit..." The young thief sighs and nods. "I AM sorry, Atlas." They were soon back to travelling and as before, Atlas sat behind Illia in the saddle. He held to the woman by her shoulders, not willing to risk the loss of a hand or his life. The amazon sensed his unease, but did not bring attention to the issue. The hours passed in silence, dragging by with nothing but the sound of hooves and the occasional breeze, bringing with it a chill in the air. Autum was fast approaching and the leaves of the tree's were beginning to reflect that change in the seasons. Many farmers would begin the harvesting of their respective crops soon...something that the Prince would admit to watching for hours on end. A days work, free of being chased and sneaking about was a thing he had never experienced in his short life. Another chilly wind blew and a small wave of goose-bumps broke out across his bare arms. "It seems colder then usual for this season," comments Kale. "What do you think, Prince?" "I'll be happy to trade the cold for the heat of the desert," he retorts. "I hate snow and ice...and I especially hate frozen finger-tips. It makes my job all the more difficult." "Have you ever fallen from a roof-top?" questions Illia. "From what I've heard, you spend much of your time on roof-tops and above street level in general." "Have I ever fallen from a roof-top?" asks the male with a bit of humor tinting his voice. "Yeah, several times and it's always painful. Especially when you bounce off some scaffolding or the side of a building." "How does THAT happen?" "By misjudging the distance, Miss Illia," interupts Kale. "It's fairly humorous, if you ask me." Atlas glares at the man from behind Illia but otherwise doesn't respond. "It sounds like it." "Yes, thank you for humilating me, Kale," speaks Atlas. "Shouldn't you be figuring out where you are going to stay once we arrive in Atlantis. As it stands, we have little to nothing." "I have a plan," Kale informs him. "What about you?" "I'll figure something out. I pride myself on my ability to think on my feet." The scholar nods in agreement, once again adjusting his glasses. "It's quite the talent, I must admit. I would even go so far as to guess that is what has kept you alive all these years." The Prince just grins. "Who know's..." - - - The fire crackled and popped as more wood was added to it in an attempt to bolster it's flames and ward off the chill in the night air. Illia had checked the young thief's wounds and they were doing just fine. She placed a final piece in the small pit and looked over at Kale. The man was sleeping soundly, his back turned to the flames. "Well at least he can get to sleep easily," comments Atlas. The amazon sits back on her haunches and nods in agreement, beginning the process of removing her leather armor. "I never understood that." "Understood what?" questions Illia. "Being a soldier. You put your life on the line...follow the orders of some king you've never seen. You do what you're told, fight for a problem or cause that isn't your own. It's foolish." She shook her head in disgust. Illia had thought him to be somewhat honorible but to slander the names of soldiers who had fought to defend the city he grew up in...it irritated her. "You wouldn't understand." She begins unlacing the leather bracers bound tightly around her forearms. On the right was a deep scar where a sword had glanced off in a blow that would have caused the loss of use in the hand. "And why wouldn't I? Because I'm a thief?" Illia looks up at his now icy eye's. "You don't know anything about me, Illia." "I've seen thieves before, Atlas. Though you're better then the average thief, they are all the same." The youth simply shook his head. "Am I wrong? I have yet to see proof of this. Had you any sense you would do away with that crown." He looked at the satchel and then picked it up. 'I wonder just what he'll do', she thinks to herself. 'No thief would throw away something as valuable as--' Before she could even finish that thought he had stood and tossed it into the near-by river. There was a small splash and it sank into the murky depths without a trace. Both knew that it was now gone to the currents. "You're right. I stole it simply to prove I could, and insult the king. Hanging on to it would be foolish." "It seems you have a habit of surprising me, Atlas. I've never known a thief to so willingly throw away his take." "I told you that you don't know anything about me. I'm not a greedy man, Illia. I just want to live my life, no matter where it takes me." He pauses for a moment watching her begin removing her chest armor. "Need any help?" Illia fixed him with a stare that would have caused any other man to rethink that statement but didn't seem to bother him. "Well? Do you or don't you?" "Watch where your hands wander, Atlas." He nodded and knelt down behind her, helping to remove some of the bindings ment to hold it in place. Several long minutes later he had finished and she was free of her armor. Illia breathed a bit of a sigh and then tossed another piece of wood on to the fire. "I never did thank you for the new clothes. Considering how big the males you keep are...it must have been hard to find them in my size." Illia had examined his body at length during her tending of his wounds and would describe him as nothing but muscle and bone. Years of living on the street, of running and climbing had kept him fit and his body fat near zero. The muscles of his torso were taunt and stood out against the pale, hairless skin. His arms bulged with muscle but not overly so as many other soldiers and men she had seen. His long legs were powerful, and as she had seen, could carry himself and her swift enough to keep him one step ahead of the guards. His over all figure was trim and suited for moving quickly, and silently. It suited him and quite honestly...Illia found she rather prefered the way his muscles bulged in certain places rather then just swelling up all over. "Hey...? You ok?" "It wasn't too difficult to find clothes in your size." She takes a deep breath and releases it slowly. "We should get some sleep. We ride out early tomorrow..." The Prince of Thieves Ch. 03 Hi, it's Useli. I must say, it's been a LONG time since I've written anything and this was something I just had floating around in my head that I wasn't sure was going to be any good. Thanks to everyone who took the time to read this. *** True to her word, Illia woke them both before the sun had spread it's golden wings across the land. Atlas stood and stretched, attempting to both drive the last bits of sleep from his body and ward off the early morning chill. It took longer then he would have liked but soon they were back on the road, heading towards the port city of Atlantis. Slowly, the world began to come alive around them. The early morning calling of the birds, and chittering of squirrels as they scurried about to gather food for what seemed to be a fast approaching winter. Hours of travel had passed before the sun had finally crest the horizon, attemping to drive away the chill that the night had brought with it. Long shadows were cast across the path from the tallest trees. The path they were following was one that Atlas and Kale were not familiar with but Illia seemed to know. The amazon didn't seem concerned with enjoying the scenery. She had no doubt seen much of it living in the forest, where as both men had spent their lives within the walls of the city and as a result were amazed by the natural beauty surrounding them. "I cannot believe I never left the city," speaks Atlas. "I think I much prefer these lush surroundings to that of the cold stone of the city." "I agree," comes Kale's voice. "What a wonderful place. You see now why I spent much of my time out doing research on the local plants." The blond nodded slowly as he gazed around with amber eye's. "Such beauty can only be found here in the wilds." "And bandits," added Illia. "Keep your eye's open. They often ambush small parties such as ours." Atlas shifted a bit. In the past he had come across a few bandits, come to the city to trade what they had plundered from innocent people. It was men who lacked stealth and cunning who often became bandits. What they could not take by sleight of hand, they took by force. He had absolutely no respect for such people, and when he had found them alone, well...one is hard pressed to hear screams of help in the back alley's of Solis. "B-Bandits? Along these roads?" "Of course. We show them no quarter in our territory, ambushing and killing any bandits who we come across. Because of that they tend to avoid our forests." Kale swallowed and looked around quickly, apparently trying to spot if they were walking into an ambush themselves. "Calm yourself, Kale. If you get so worked up over something like that you won't live to see thirty." His lips twitch but he doesn't respond, instead attempting to calm himself. "Bandits give good thieves a bad name," comments Atlas. "Is that right?" The blond leans around to look at her from a side-long angle and nods. "I don't see how. Both take what does not belong to them. Bandits simply do it by force." The youth shook his head in what she would describe as exasperation. "Any proper thief uses forethought and planning, in place of violence." Illia rolls her eye's a bit, a slight smile playing at her lips. The man had ideas that there was such a thing as a 'proper thief' in this world? At the least he was amusing. "I suppose I must concede that there is at least SOME difference between the two. However, I do not believe that 'proper' is a word that should be applied to either profession, Atlas." "All I heard is, 'there is some difference between the two', Miss Illia." Again she rolls her eye's at his words. The hours passed slowly, and the forest around them stayed the same. It was thick, with tree's and vegetation of all sorts surrounding and shielding them from much of the sun...but also shielding any potential attackers who might seek to do harm to them. This did not bother Illia, who was used to traveling in this sort of terrain and it didn't bother Atlas, who was looking around at all the birds and small animals in the tree tops. However, it was Kale who attempted to keep a close eye on their surroundings. The scholar nearly lost his glasses several times when a small noise that Illia knew belonged to the forest, drew his attention and he looked sharply in that direction. It was rather amusing not only to her but the young thief as well. "Kale, you need to relax," spoke Atlas, breaking the silence. "I am a scholar, not a fighter," he comments, shoving his glasses up. "Forgive me if I am worried about a fight." "There is no sense in worrying about fights that haven't even begun yet. If you would like to spend time worrying, then worry about something else." He snorted in response to the thief's words but otherwise didn't respond. Illia didn't speak on the issue, and Atlas didn't venture a guess as to what her thoughts on the issue might be. Rather, he returned to enjoying the scenery without pause... - - - They had stopped to rest the horses and stretch their legs. Atlas was crouched down on top of a large moss covered boulder, keeping an eye on everything he could. He tried not to show it, but it was obvious that he was worried about their surroundings as well. Illia was sure that she could handle any of the untrained bandits they might happen across in the woods, as she had in the past. 'The past', she muses to herself. 'It seems like years rather then weeks.' The amazon glanced between the two men in silence, and it was the Prince that caught her looking. He flashed a wry, charming smile and she rolled her eye's at that action. She glances away and sighs. He spoke to her with the title of 'Miss' which was rather respectful for an outsider, but at times he was rather rude as well. In the past that would have earned him the point of her sword or if he were one of them, a flogging. But she constantly reminded herself that she had deserted her village now, turned her back on her own people. Illia found the thought didn't bother her as much as she imagined it would. A small pebble bounced off of her leather armor and she looked sharply up at the blond thief, looking away innocently but not without a mischievous smile on his young face...it irritated her immediately. "Don't throw another one," she warns in a harsh whisper. "I didn't do a thing," he counters, feigning innocence. She glanced away, keeping a close eye on the surroundings. Several long moments passed before yet another pebble struck her, this time it was her shoulder. Illia glared up at the thief, facing away from her yet again, but this time in the completely opposite direction. He slowly looks down at her, mischief burning keenly in his amber eye's. "What?" "I'm warning you. Don't throw another damn one or I'll make you swallow it." "I'm not doing anything." Her lips twitched in response to the slight smile on his face. Again she looked away, feeling that he would take her threat seriously...but that hope was dashed when she felt a third pebble strike her stiff leather armor. That was the final straw. Illia jumped up and began to climb up the large rock he was currently occupying. The moss was slippery, and she was weighed down by a heavy sword and pack. As embarassing as it was, she found herself unable to get up to him. This only served to further anger the amazon, who immediately shed her pack and tried again, only to slip down and land on her behind. Atlas, who had been a bit concerned at first was now watching with unbridled amusement. "You need to calm down and take a deep breath. If you're angry you'll only make more mistakes and get hurt." "Shut-up!" He sighed heavily and sat on his haunches, spinning a small twig between his nimble fingers. Several times she tried and failed to climb the slippery rock only to slide back down. All the while Atlas watched her with a bored expression, not uttering a single word to encourage or discourage her. After only spectacular failure she finally jumped up and growled. "Damn you! Come down here at once!" "Climbing on slick surfaces requires slow and deliberate movements, Illia. Always keep your weight spread out evenly and never place it all on one foot. That's what your problem is." "I don't need lessons from you! Now get down here!" Illia heard the sound of people moving through the brush and placed a finger to her lips. Atlas nodded in understanding and the amazon glanced in the direction of the noise. Several bandits broke free of cover and she drew her sword, sparing a quick glance back to find the young thief was gone. "Coward." "What have we here?" questions the largest man, apparently their leader. "An Amazon by the looks of her, and all alone. Isn't that something?" His confidence only served to spur the other three men on, who smiled broadly. "Aren't we lucky, boys? I've always wanted to try one." "You think I'm alone, you bastard?" A scowl darkened his face, but he spared a quick glance around the small clearing before advancing slowly. Apparently, he was willing to call that bluff. They fanned out in a semi circle and with her back to the large boulder, she had nowhere to go but up it...which had spectacularly failed many times already. She would start with the largest of them, try to frighten the others off by killing him. She widened her stance a bit and was seconds away from carrying that thought when she saw the Prince standing behind the large man. One of the blonds arms circled his neck and yanked him back off balance before planting a dagger firmly into his heart. Immediately he went limp, the life leaving his eye's long before his body dropped to the ground with a solid, dull thud. The other's turned and Illia stuck, cutting one of the bandits across the back from shoulder to hip with a single stroke. Crimson blood splattered his dark tunic as he stumbled forward, falling first to his knee's and then face down. Illia parried a blade with relative ease, and struck back. The bandit was lucky enough to raise his sword in time to avoid the blow but staggered a few steps as a result of the solid blow. It was an opening that she exploited. The woman stepped forward and ran him through, pieceing his heart and killing him instantly. She yanked the steel blade free and turned to see the Prince expertly warding off two of them with his dagger. It didn't allow him to block or parry but he used his speed to his advantage, avoiding their blows with flawless movements. The man he was fighting was bigger then the young thief, and stronger as well...but naturally slower. He played this against the man, using his speed and agility to dodge the thrust of his blade. Atlas moved forward, gripped his shoulder and stabbed the man twice in the chest, both times aiming for the heart. The first bite of the blade had killed him, and the second was simply to make sure. The man tumbled backwards and the Prince turned on the final bandit. His fist struck the man so hard across the jaw that it spun him. Blood ran down his chin from the split lip and no doubt the loss of some teeth. The man had barely gotten himself stopped when the blond was on him again. With a single blow he struck him between the shoulder blades, at the base of the neck and severed his spine. Death came immediately to the bandit who tumbled forward in silence. Blood seeped from the wound, slowly pooling in the grass under them. "Impressive work, Illia," compliments Atlas. "I'd never have been able to get Kale to safety and myself behind them without you." "It wasn't on purpose," she counters, her anger somewhat cooled now. The scholar peeked out from his hiding place at the two and breathed a sigh of relief. Though Illia wouldn't admit it to him, she was glad that Atlas had been fighting at her side. His skill with a dagger, when combined with his apparent speed and agility certainly made him someone to be feared on the battle-field... - - - Atlas had scavanged the coin-purses of the bandits and taken a short-sword in place of his dagger. It was obvious that Illia looked down on such things but did not say a word while he did so. Refitting one of the smaller men's sword-belts to himself was quite a chore and he soon found all that had gone to waste as he immdiately disliked the tugging weight at his hip, unbalancing his six-foot frame. He stuck with it, deciding that there wouldn't be much need for running and climbing in the forest. Afterwards, they were back on the horses and the trail, leaving the bodies for the animals. Kale said not a word as they rode and Atlas knew that the man did not like killing. An hour or so of uncomfortable silence was all it took for the young man to address the issue. "It was us or them," he finally spoke. "Best not to dwell on things like that, Kale. You'll go mad if you do." "But...you killed them," he mutters. "Doesn't that bother you?!" "They were bandits. I don't see a reason for it to bother me, Kale." The scholar gritted his teeth and glared at the blond. "Have you no heart?" "When did you become so concerned with who I kill? You didn't seem to mind when I killed those guards to save your behind! If you've got a problem with me then just come out and say it, Kale!" Immediately he halted the horse and faced him. Illia halted their mount and sighed heavily. "Yes, I have a problem with your killing." "Well, it's a good thing that I don't care what you have a problem with, isn't it, Kale?" The man squeezes the reins tightly and shakes his head. He opens his mouth to respond when Illia cuts him off. "We can have this arguement later!" she barks. "We should focus on moving forward." Not another word is exchanged as they press forward down the path towards the city. Hours pass and soon night is upon them...and all three of them are hungry as can be. While making camp, Illia and Kale both noticed the absence of Atlas but don't pay it much mind until after they had finished. Moments before they call for him, he comes walking back towards the camp carrying a pair of rabbits. At least they had dinner for the night. After skinning and cleaning the rabbits, they roasted them and ate their fill. It was a bland meal, but none of them complained, happy to have their stomachs full. Kale was the first one of the trio asleep, leaving Illia and Atlas sitting at the fire across from each other in silence. Illia busies herself running a sharpening stone over the blade of her sword. "Is he always so disagreeable?" she finally questions, breaking the silence. "Not normally," replies Atlas. "I think it's starting to sink in...there's no happy ending when he get's to the city." She pauses for a moment and looks up at the young man sitting across from her, gazing up at the night sky. "What about you? How do you feel?" "Me? It doesn't matter to me one way or the other. I'm gonna make the best of whatever situation is thrown at me, Illia. I guess the same goes for you, right?" She doesn't respond instead she keeps running the stone over the edge of the sword. "You should sharpen your blade as well...both of them." Atlas waves her off and leans back, threading his fingers behind his head and staring straight up at the sky and silence reigns for a few moments. "Who taught you how to weild a dagger?" "The same woman who taught me how to move like I do. A lot of people like to think that I learned everything I know on my own...they don't like to imagine that a woman was the one who taught 'The Prince of Thieves' everything he knows." To Illia, that was the oppertunity to address that title of his. "How exactly did you get THAT title?" He leans up, a wry smile on his face. "Because I'm such a gentleman, of course. Only a prince could have manners like mine." She arches a brow and his smile grows. "And I can pretty much steal anything from anyone." "I suppose that's as good a reason as any." He chuckles a bit and nods in agreement. "Do you remember your parents?" "No. The closest thing I had to a parent was an old lady who kept me until I was five. Even when I was staying with her we barely had enough to eat, and only a small shack to keep us warm. It wasn't all that different from being on the streets." She begins sharpening her sword once more. "Sounds like life was difficult. I suppose you began stealing to survive." "Well, it wasn't for fun, Illia. I didn't know how to farm, or work metal. As you can tell, I have a real problem obeying the law so I wasn't cut out to be a guard or a soldier. Stealing...it sort of came natural to me. Picking pockets was a lot easier then begging for a few meager coins." "You could have apprenticed under a blacksmith." "I was only five. There wasn't much I could have done." The young man sighs heavily and then lays back on the ground, once more staring up at the night sky with his fingers threaded behind his head. "I'm gonna get some sleep. You should do the same, Illia..." They travelled in this way for a week, not sleeping more then a few hours a night and beginning their travelling early in the morning and ending late at night. It had become the first and only real routine that Atlas had ever known in his short life. Though the Prince wouldn't admit it...he found it to be strangely enjoyable. For someone who couldn't tell you where he'd be spending the night or getting his next meal, it was nice to know that at least something could be counted on in his unstable life. But more then the routine...he enjoyed the company of Illia, and a healthy bit of teasing... - - - Morning came early for Kale and Atlas, the two being roused yet again from their slumber before first light. Again, it took several long minutes before they had broken down camp and were on horse back. But they would reach the city before nightfall barring anything unfortunate happening. As before, the morning was chilly and there seemed to be a light frost clinging to every surface. The air chilled the thief's naked arms but he did not complain. It was a few hours after sunrise that the warm glow had managed to knock off some of the chill and the youth was back to himself. 'Thin clothes certainly will NOT do,' he tells himself. 'Though I'll have no use for anything thick in the desert. I'll simply have to get some new clothes in Atlantis.' It wasn't long before the tree's began to thin out and the terrain changed to from forest to grassy plains. But the sun had risen and slowly begun to set before Atlas caught his first breath of the salty sea breeze. Ahead of them, a hill loomed and the horses climbed it without protest. The sense of excitment and anticipation was something that none of them had felt in quite a while, and as they crested the top of it they were treated to the beautiful sight of the sea, set a blaze by the golden rays of the falling sun. Colors of all kinds danced off of the roiling waves and a wry smile lit the young thief's face. "Well, Kale...I told you I'd get us here," he comments. "If nothing else, I am a man of my word...erm, sort of. I also have Illia to thank for tending my wounds." The amazon glances back at him and gives him a nod in acknowledgement. "Now...let's go get a proper meal and a bath...!" The Prince of Thieves Ch. 04 Hey, it's Useli again. I decided to introduce another thief, Nero. He will NOT be involved in anything mature and will play a role in the story. What that is...happens to be a mystery... - - - They didn't attract much attention on the crowded streets of the port town. Even Atlas, a wanted man in Solis barely received more then a lazy stare from some unconcerned town guards standing on the street corner outside of a shop. He walked along side the horses, head slightly lowered to keep his face somewhat hidden from view. It was habit that he had developed over the years. When everyone knows your face, you want to keep it hidden. They approached a stable, apparently the ONLY one in the entire city as they hadn't seen a single one in quite some time, and were greeted quickly by a stable hand. "We'd like to put the horses up for the night," speaks Atlas. "That'll be forty coins for the night," speaks the man in a gruff voice. The youth's brows raise in surprise which the stable hand noticed. "And if ya don't like it, go somewhere else." He snorted and handed the gold to the man. "Fine. Easy on the grain." They hand the horses over to the stable-hand who takes them inside. Illia attracts the attention of several men passing by as she stretches her legs. The amazon looks around at all the people and then for a bath-house. "I guess we part here, huh, Kale?" The scholar nods and shoves his glasses up on his nose. "I believe so," he agree's. "It's been a real pleasure knowing you, Atlas." The two shake hands, and then both Illia and Atlas watch him disappear into the crowd without another word. For several minutes the young thief doesn't move and then finally he stretches. "Let's find somewhere to eat, huh, Illia?" The woman nods in agreement and they stride down the streets. It wasn't uncommon for amazons to be stared at by others and today was no different. They WERE beautiful after all, though the men gave her a wide birth as they passed, careful to avoid offending the sword wielding woman. She was well aware of the Prince's hands as he passed a man garbed in beautifully dyed clothes. He was a good thief and she didn't even KNOW that he had relieved the man of his coin purse until they were several yards away and he held it up to show her with a wry smile. It was obvious that he enjoyed an audience to such things. "You're going to end up on wanted posters again," she warns. "Keep your sticky fingers to yourself, Atlas." "Come now. We need the gold more then him." They entered the first tavern that they came across. It was dimly lit by only a few candles and a huge fireplace placed against the wall casting an orange glow on everything. It stank of watery ale and stale sweat in Illia's opinion but Atlas didn't pay it much mind, approaching an empty table and having a seat. There was only a handful of people in the tavern, but Illia seemed to have the attention of every male there. Soon, two flagons of ale had been placed in front of them and Atlas lifted his, taking a long pull on it before releasing a satisfied sigh. It tasted horrible, probably the worst he had EVER tasted but considering that he hadn't had anything but water from a stream to drink for the past few weeks it was better then he could remember having in a while. A bar maid with a cheaply painted face approached them with a smile. She paid more attention to Illia then she did to the Prince, which served to amuse him immensely. The woman took their orders before wandering back to the kitchen. "I don't like this place. It stinks, and the drink tastes like pig swill." Atlas just laughs. "Well, after this you can get a bath then. I've got a few contacts here that I need to speak with...I'll see if I can get us a guide to Aer. No doubt it'll be a rather treacherous journey to undertake without one." Several minutes of conversation passed before the food was served and they ate their fill, thoroughly enjoying a proper meal that they hadn't had time to have while he was recovering. When they had finished, Atlas left some coins on the table and they departed. "I'll see if I can get what we need for the trip." "Got it. I'll see you soon, Illia. Remember to watch your back...the dangers aren't always easy to see in the city..." - - - Everyone in the underworld had heard of the Guilds collapse and feared that they might be next...except for Lin. He was confident in his ability to bribe or otherwise evade any guards who might come snooping around their smuggling operation. Lin leaned back in his chair and closed his eye's, scrubbing a hand over his face in silence. He stiffened immediately when he felt a slight breeze. "You've got nerve, I'll admit that," he speaks aloud. "But unfortunately you lack common sense." "Relax," speaks a taunting, yet familiar voice that belonged to one of his near and dear friends. "I'm not here to cause trouble, Lin." The man breaths a sigh of relief and jumps up to look back at the blond thief standing in front of an open window. "Sneaking onto another man's ship is a good way to end up dead, Prince." "So is smuggling." A booming laugh escapes from the balding man as he motions to the chair across from his desk. A wry smile appears in the blonds face as he approaches the desk and sits down. "I have to say, it's been quite a while since we last spoke in person, hasn't it?" "Too long! Far too long! I have to thank you for your help on my last job. We'd never have gotten the cargo into Solis without your help." The Prince kicks his feet up on the desk and nods. "Uh-oh...what's on that genius mind of yours?" "I need a favor." "Unfortunately, that's what I happen to be short on these days, Prince." He sighs heavily and nods, letting his feet down as promptly as he had put them up on the cherry wood desk. "But..." Lin takes a deep breath. "...seeing as how I owe you. I cannot rightly turn you down. Let it never be said that Lin doesn't repay his debts!" The blond grins from ear to ear and nods again. "Good! I need someone who knows the way to Aer." "Aer? Why would you want to go there?" Atlas holds a hand up to silence the man. "All I need is a guide...and some new clothes. Something that fits me better then these." The smuggler nodded in agreement and then slid open one of the desk drawers, removing a piece of paper and a quill. Several moments passed while the man scrawled down an address as well as some other notes onto the paper before folding it and handing it across the desk to the Prince. "Follow the directions to the tailor on the paper and tell the man there who you are and that I'll cover the expenses. Come back in two days and I should have someone to take you to Aer, Prince." He nods and stands. "And...next time use the door." A wry smile lights the blonds face as he nods again, approaching the window once more instead of the door. Well, it wasn't like Lin had actually expected him to use the front door in the first place... - - - Illia left the shop in a bit of a huff. "Damn shop keepers trying to cheat me," mutters the amazon. She glanced in either direction before setting down the street with the crowd of people. She didn't see him approach, so when a hand grazed her side she reached back and grasped it by the wrist. The woman glanced back at the Prince, a wry smile on his young face. "Seems I've caught a thief." "Nonsense," Atlas assures her. "I was simply trying to make sure that your coin purse was secure." He produces the item in his free hand, his smile growing even wider. "It's not, by the way." She releases him and snatches it from his palm. "I doubt that anything of value would be secure so long as you are around." He scratches his chin, turning his hooded face up in through before nodding in agreement. She had come to realize he did not apologize or ask forgiveness for how he made a living...but to have it confirmed certainly confused her a bit. "Aren't you ashamed?" "Nope." They begin walking once more with the crowd of people. Illia tried to keep an eye on his hands as they were walking, but once again missed his actual theft until they were several steps away from the man. "If you are caught, I will not speak in your defense, Atlas." "I think you would. It'd be boring if I weren't around to make trouble, right?" She rolls her eye's. "Anyway, we need the money." He held up an empty hand and made a few motions before producing a coin between his middle and index finger. Illia watched as he flipped the coin over the tops of his knuckles again and again. The amazon once again felt a hand graze her side and turned, grasping a hand she expected to belong to the Prince. As it turned out, it was a dark haired boy. His azure blue eye's were wide with surprise and he yanked back. But the half-starved boy was too weak to free himself from her grip and struggled in vain against her. "Lemme go, lady!" demands the boy. "Calm down, boy," speaks Atlas. "We're not going to turn you in." This caused the boy to stop his struggling. "What's your name? Are you hungry?" The boy wasn't the only one confused by the sudden turn of events. "Nero...and, yeah, I'm hungry." "Alright. Let's get you a bite to eat, then." Nero eyed him suspiciously for a few long moments before a wave of recognition washed over the young boy's face. His jaw dropped open and he pointed an accusing finger at Atlas. "You're the--" The Prince placed a hand over the boy's mouth. "Not here, Nero..." - - - The tavern was crowded with people of all sorts, and it absolutely hummed with the sound of conversations and laughter. Nero ate ravenously, obviously having not enjoyed a proper meal in quite some time. Atlas had his elbows on the table, fingers threaded together and chin resting on them. He could remember all the times he had wanted for a good meal and had nothing more then some berries and roots scavenged from the lands surrounding the city. So, allowing the boy to go without a proper meal was something that didn't sit right with him. "So...you're really the Prince of Thieves...?" questions Nero between bites. A wry smile appears on the Prince's face and he nods. "Hmm...I thought you'd be bigger." A laugh escapes the thief and he offers the boy a shrug. "Sorry to disappoint," replies Atlas. "How long have you been on the streets?" "Mmm." The boy swallowed a mouthful of food. "Since I was seven. I'm twelve now." "What happened to your parents?" inquires Illia. He pauses, a look of hurt flickering across his face before he puts on the same huge grin he had been wearing nearly the entire time. "They're not around anymore." The amazon gave him a quick once over. Nero was most definitely malnourished, but he seemed to be a strong boy. He was tall for his age, and no doubt would grow into a handsome young man. She found herself wondering what kind of parents would simply abandon their child. "Hey, would you teach me, Prince?" The blond thief arched a brow. "Teach you?" askes Atlas. "I suppose I could...yeah, I'm sure I could. But we're not going to be staying in the city for much longer, Nero. I don't have the time to--" "That's alright! I can go with you!" Another laugh escaped from the Prince and his smile grows. "Well, you've certainly got the right attitude. But...the crossing to Aer isn't exactly a safe one. You might die." The boy didn't even blink. Instead, one of the most self assured smiles appeared on his young face. "I can handle it." "You got spunk, Nero. What do you think, Illia? Should we take him along?" The amazon looked over in surprise at the male. "Well?" "Considering our circumstances...would it be wise?" she questions. "It will be dangerous." The Prince glances over at the Amazon with an arched brow. "Then again...I simply cannot leave this child to wander the streets and end up like you." "Ow. I for one think that with a bit of practice he would make a great thief." The boy's grin grew wider in response to the Prince's praise. Atlas caught sight of the men the moment they entered, their eye's scanning the crowded tavern before coming to a stop upon their table. "Here comes trouble. You'd better hide." "No way! I'll fight them right now!" Illia stood quickly, picking up the boy with ease. "Let's go, you blood-thirsty whelp," she chastises. "We'll meet back at the Inn. I'll hang a lantern in the window." "Got it," agree's Atlas, slowly standing. The Prince stood, grasped the chair he had been sitting in and threw it as if it weighed no more then a pebble. It collided with the larger of the men and sent him tumbling over a table. It served to irritate the mercenary sitting at the table, who quickly stood and drew his blade. This action sent the whole tavern into an up-roar... - - - The Prince sighed a bit, elbows resting on his knee's as he gazed down at the streets. The world seemed so slow and lazy while bathed in the silvery glow of the full moon. Everything seemed so surreal to Atlas. The young thief spotted a single figure walking, a woman judging by the length of the hair falling out from under her hood. Behind her followed a pair of burly swordsmen. It was a bad sign and being the gentleman he is, the Prince decided to interfere. He stood and dashed along the face of the building, not bothered by the three story fall he might've suffered if his feet slipped. He vaulted across a gap between buildings and then dropped down to a wooden awning, before hitting the cobble stone street in front of the woman. She stopped and then glanced back at the men there. Both approached quicker now and she decided that the Prince was the lesser of two evils. He produced his dagger and the men drew swords. Atlas dashed forward, covering the distance between them and him in a few quick strides. It caught them both off guard and he used this to his advantage. He punched the largest of the men in the throat and then the nose before slashing his throat with his dagger. His sword clattered to the ground as he stumbled backwards, both hands going to the wound and attempting to stem the crimson tide of blood flowing down his chest. The Prince had his back to the other male, who stuck out at him. Atlas ducked the blade with ease and whirled around, slashing the man across the inner thigh and sending him stumbling backwards with a loud yelp. The thief pushed forward, turning his shoulder to dodge the thrust of his blade and then dashing around behind him. He aimed for his spine, between his shoulders and directly at the base of his thick neck. The dagger hit home and his body convulsed for only a moment before going completely slack and falling face first to the ground, blood pooling around his body. Atlas glanced back where the woman had been standing only to find she had completely disappeared. "Well," huffs Atlas, returning his dagger to his boot. "She could have at least thanked me...ah, well." The Prince arches a brow when he notices a piece of paper lying in the middle of the street. He reaches out, collecting the weather worn and ripped paper. There was plenty of writing on the paper, but he couldn't understand a single word. It looked almost like amazonian, or maybe elvish. It didn't matter exactly what one it was, because both were completely beyond his ability to understand. But as he looked longer and longer he began to recognize only a two symbols among it...only because it was emblazoned boldly on the ring upon his finger. The same ring that Elsa had given him before departing. "Well...isn't that something...?" - - - Illia stoked the fire with another piece of wood, attempting to ward off the night's chill. The amazon heard movement, very soft but still there. She glances back sharply to find Atlas sitting on the edge of her bed, gazing at a piece of paper intently in the flickering orange light of the fireplace. "And here I thought you were on your way to the gallows," she comments, standing and approaching the window. She extinguishes the lantern, shuts the window and turns to gaze at the Prince. "What is it?" "I have no clue," replies Atlas, his brows drawn together. "I think it's written in elvish. But this right here..." He taps a finger against the strange symbols on the corner of the paper. "...I recognize it from my ring." As if to convince himself he holds up his ring finger next to the paper and looks between the two. "Heh, maybe it was meant for me, eh?" "Where did you get this?" She takes the paper from him and looks it over slowly. "Some woman in a traveling cloak, and no, I didn't steal it." Her lips twitched a bit as his comment but she chose not to respond...for the moment. "I also thought it might be written in your language." "Hardly...but I do recognize one or two of them characters. They look like elvish, but...this one looks like it belongs in the dwarven language. In fact, they look like they're...Terin." Atlas racks his mind in silence for a few moments before snapping his fingers. "I heard about them! They lived up in the mountains before they went extinct during the war in Aer, right?" Illia arches a brow and lowers the paper to stare at the male. He offers her a simple shrug. "Kale was researching them before we left Solis. Most of the books and papers written about them have been lost to time but...legend says no one who wasn't a Terin could find the city." The amazon nods in agreement. "Where did you get that ring?" "What? This thing? Elsa gave it to me." Illia arched a brow in response. "She's the one who taught me nearly everything I know. Elsa is the reason that I get around using the roof-tops instead of the streets. She was one hell of a woman." The strangest feeling struck the amazon as he spoke so proudly of her. For a moment it confused her before she realized...she was jealous. Of a thief no less! 'It must be because I spent so much time tending his wounds,' reasons Illia silently. Even with that said...the Prince WAS a rather handsome young man. She notices Atlas staring at her strangely, his amber eye's boring right into her's. "Wh-What?" "You ok?" "I'm fine. Finding someone to translate is going to be difficult, if not impossible." The blond thief shook his head slowly and brushed his hood back, taking the paper from her and looking it over. "You have an idea?" "Well...Kale studied them very extensively. He paid more attention to those people then most anything else. Anyway, he theorized that the Terin people took characters from both the elven and dwarven languages to create their own. If that's true..." Illia caught on immediately and nodded in agreement. "Then all we need to do is find someone who speaks both elven and dwarvish", she finishes for him. "Which makes finding out what's written on that paper far easier." "Exactly. Now...how the HELL do we go about finding someone who knows either of those languages?" "Don't you have contacts here in Atlantis? Couldn't you ask one of them?" He sighed heavily and then shrugged. "What is it?" "Something about going back to Lin while we're square doesn't sit right with me. I don't like to be in debt to other's and least of all that smuggler..." Again he sighed and stood, pulling his hood back up as he did so. "But seeing as we don't exactly have the luxury of being picky, I suppose that he'll make do. I'll just have to bribe him with something he wants." "Like?" "Well...there's strong drink and women. But money also seems to work, so I think I may just have to slip him a few coins in lieu of owing that man a favor." "I thought he was your friend?" "Friend? Hardly. Lin would sell me into slavery for a single piece of silver. He's one you have to be careful around." The Prince approaches the window and stops. "In fact...I'd go so far as to wager that HE was the one who sent those men at the tavern." The Prince of Thieves Ch. 04 Atlas gently folds the worn piece of paper and tucks it into one of the many leather pouches on his belt before leaping out the window into the night... - - - "What do you mean he gave you the slip?" questions Lin. "He's one man. Nothing but a whelp!" The windows to the room opened and a dagger was pressed against the balding man's throat. "Ahhh...now, now. No reason to press so hard." "Hey, Lin," speaks the Prince in a taunting voice. "I had a feeling that you were the one who sent these two. Couldn't be sure though, I had to do a little checking around and then you were dumb enough to bring them back here. How have you survived this long?" "Money talks." "So will you, if you want to keep your life. I need another favor from you." The smuggler arched a brow in response. "Don't worry. I'm good for it." He places a three precious stones on the desk in front of Lin, removing his dagger from his throat. "That should cover what I need." Lin rubbed his throat and picked up one of the stones, examining it in the flickering light of the candle upon his desk. "Well, then. What can I do for you, Prince?" Atlas produces the paper and places it on the desk as well. "Find me someone to translate that, Lin. I know you can do it. I believe in you..." He rubs the man on his bald head...for good luck of course... The Prince of Thieves Ch. 05 Hey, it's Useli! Sorry for the wait. I had some computer issues that I had to take care of. Be sure to review, and let me know if I'm doing things right or screwing up somewhere. - - - The male grunted a bit as he swung down, supporting his weight entirely with his arms and slowly lowering himself as close to the balcony as possible before dropping silently. Atlas knelt and removed from a pocket within his tunic a set of lock-picks. With speed and skill born from years of practice the tumblers all into place and the lock opened with a soft 'click'. Tucking away the useful items he quietly opened the door and swept inside the manor. It wasn't perhaps the wisest thing to be robbing the nobility of Atlantis, however they need for money outweighed the risks. Glancing over at the grand four-poster bed dominating the room he rolled his eye's. He takes what he can from the room. A few precious necklaces, rings, and a small coin purse of gold. Hearing them stir, the Prince makes an exit through the closest door and out into the hallway of the manor. 'Damn,' curses the Prince silently. 'This is why I hate this kind of work.' The hallway was lined with many large windows, the moonlight bathing several beautiful oil-paintings that had been well taken care of and showed no signs of fading or deterioration. He moves forward as quietly as possible, eye's scanning every painting and silently wondering just how much a fence might pay to get his hands upon one of these masterpieces. That being said, he simply wasn't about to undertake the head-ache associated with attempting to find a buyer for such a unique piece of stolen art. As he passed a door, he heard a noise within and immediately pressed himself against the wall only moments before the door opened. Though he'd done this kind of work nearly all his life...he couldn't quell the automatic leap in his pulse as a servant stepped out of the room, closed the door quietly behind her and departed down the hall in the opposite direction as Atlas. Deciding that he had taken enough risks he sought out the nearest exit... - - - Illia was up before dawn spread it's golden wings across the sky. The amazon wasn't worried about Atlas, or the fact that he seemed to have disappeared. It wasn't that she was cold, rather it was a compliment to his perceived ability to handle himself no matter the situation. She had left Nero sleeping at the Inn and gone to finish collecting what they would be needing for the crossing to Aer. By the time the sun had risen over the horizon the streets were crowded with people. That being said...she spotted the thief immediately despite the cover of the crowd. Atlas approached, wry grin directed at her from under his hood. "I see you're still alive," she comments. "Did you find someone to translate that paper?" "Unfortunately not," replies the Prince, scanning the crowd. "But I believe I know where Kale is hiding. Our best bet may be to take it to him." "He didn't seem all that willing to assist us before we parted ways. Why would he have had a change of heart?" The thief's smile only grows at her words. "Is there something you're not telling me?" Illia met his eye's under his hood, which seemed to sparkle with amusement...and it only served to irritate her more. "As I told you last night...Kale is rather interested in the Terin people." "You think that'll be enough to motivate him?" Atlas simply offers a shrug. "Well...did that man, Lin, offer any assistance? Something to fall back upon?" "He said he would line one up but I wouldn't hold my breath, Miss Illia." She noticed that the normally polite 'Miss' which he had attached to her name sounded teasing rather than respectful. As they walked she noticed him pluck an apple from a cart they passed, not bothering to see if anyone was watching his movements. There's a loud 'snap' of the crisp skin as he takes a bite. "Am I to assume he was the one who sent those men?" "Huh?" grunts the Prince, looking over at her. "Oh, yeah. Like I said...he'd sell me for a copper coin." "Silver." He blinks in confusion. "You said, 'He'd sell me into slavery for a silver coin'." He rolls his amber eye's, a sparkle of amusement in them. "Well, thank you for reminding me." He produced a second apple from that she had not seen him take and holds it out to her. "Have some breakfast." "I'd hardly call an apple breakfast, Prince." She accepts the bright red fruit from him after a few moments and stops to stare at him seriously. "Are you sure that Kale will be willing to help us decipher this?" "If he won't, then I'll just have to convince him, won't I?" "Perhaps I should be the one to speak to him." "Oh, ye of little faith. Just trust me, Illia. I'm sure that he'll be willing to help us..." - - - The sounds of quill scratching against paper was one of the only sounds in the room. The scholar was attempting to note the strange properties of the herb he had discovered. He was so engrossed in what he was doing that he failed to hear someone approaching from behind. Though, even if he had been listening it would have been hard to hear the Prince until the man slammed his palm upon the table. "Kale!!" roared the man, nearly causing the scholar to jump out of his skin. "...Did I scare you?" "Damn it, Atlas!" cursed Kale. "How many times have I asked you not to do that?!" He takes a few deep breaths to calm himself. "I believe you've scared me out of ten years of my life." "Nearly a hundred, I believe." The Prince leans against the desk and smiles down at the scholar. "I need a favor, Kale." "I can't." His lips twitch and then he shrugs. "Suit yourself. If you don't want to read something written by the Terin people themselves then I'll find another scholar. It's for the best..." He approaches the window he had come through. "...you probably couldn't decipher it to begin with, Kale. Well, I'll see you around, then." Atlas had never seen Kale move so fast in the entire time he had known him, but he felt someone grasp his wrist. "The Terin people? Ha! No one but I could ever hope to decipher anything written in their code." "I'll take my chances. I wouldn't want to get you in trouble." "Give me the paper, Atlas." The thief smiles inwardly and produces the paper. He hands it to Kale, who handles it as gently as a new-born. He returns to his desk and places the desk. Kale's eye's scan it with a look of sheer awe upon his face. "This is amazing! These...I...these are really Terin symbols, not imitations!" Atlas approaches, leaning over his shoulder and peering down at the paper. "That's good and it puts my mind at ease, but...what does it say, Kale? This is what I need to know." "You'll have to give me some time. It IS written in code, Prince. This is simply amazing! I've never seen any writing so well preserved as this..." While Kale is busy fawning over the paper Atlas places his hand on the desk beside the paper to show his ring. "I see your ring bears Terin symbols." "Could you tell me what it means?" Kale sighs in what Atlas assumes to be exasperation. "It means...Filium nox." The Prince is silent for several long moments. "Let's just assume that I don't speak Terin, Kale." The scholar spares another glance at the ring. "Roughly translated it means, 'son of the night'...have I satisfied your curiosity, now?" The thief nods and then leans up. "Good. Now, be quiet and let me translate this, would you kindly?" "Guess I'll be right back, then..." - - - Atlas had come and collected them from the Inn, before taking them to meet with Kale. The room was quite as the scholar worked on the paper, pausing to scrawl something down on a piece of paper. Sometimes the words were elvish, sometimes they were dwarven. Nero wandered around the room, looking through papers and flipping through books. The Prince sat on the window sill, hood down and gazing out to sea. Nero glanced over at Illia, the amazon busy reading one of the books from the large bookcase in the room. The boy sighed and wandered around the room in circles, eventually stopping behind Kale. The young thief stands on the tips of his toes to peer over his shoulder at his work. The scrawling of his quill ceases immediately and he looks back at Nero. "Do you mind, boy?" questions Kale. "I am trying to work." "Fine," retorts Nero, wandering over to Illia. "What'cha readin', lady?" She turns the page and looks up at the boy. "My name is not 'lady'," she tells him plainly. "Furthermore, you shouldn't address people in such a disrespectful manner. My name is Illia." He huffs and then approaches Atlas, who was on the verge of laughing. "Bored, huh?" he asks. "Well, I'll tell you what..." The Prince produces a small puzzle box. "...I stole this on my way to pick you two up. Why don't you try to solve it?" He tosses the box to the boy who looked it over carefully before looking back up at Atlas. "What?" "Why would I want do something like that?" "I'll give you a gold coin if you can." That was all it took to motivate the boy into beginning the puzzle. He sat down cross legged in the middle of the room, scratching his head and moving pieces this way and that. Of course, Atlas had already solved the box so he could tell that it would take him quite some time to figure it out...it would teach him patience and planning. "This is annoying!" complains Nero after several minutes of getting absolute nowhere with the box. Atlas laughs at the boys frustration. "Always think two steps ahead, Nero. It's a difficult puzzle." The boy scratches his head and grumbles, moving and shuffling the pieces around. "Calm yourself, Nero," councils Illia. "If you're frustrated, then you'll only make mistakes." The room is silence for several long minutes until Kale finally jumps up, laughing triumphantly. "Ha-hah!" exclaims the scholar. "I finally cracked it!" The Prince approaches quickly, patting Nero on the head as he passes and standing next to the desk to look down at the paper. "My theory was correct. Their language DOES use elvish and dwarvish letters and characters but..." He pauses to point to several others. "...these are a kind of writing I've never seen before." "Really?" inquires Atlas. "Care to venture a guess?" "Something older then the elves." Kale shoves his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "At any rate, I suppose you're wondering just what this paper says." The Prince nods in agreement. "Well...at first I thought it might be just a story, but...it mentions you, Atlas." "Me?" "Well, not specifically you. It mentions a thief...one who would be worthy to receive 'The Blessing' and then receive something valuable." The Prince arched a single golden brow. "What might that be? Gold? Silver? A gem the size of Nero?" "It can't make out exactly WHAT it is. The last part is written in those strange characters." Kale sighs and scratches his chin. "I guess we'll never know." "I know a way to find out..." The scholar looks over at the man. "You cannot seriously be entertaining that idea. No one has ever found the city of Terin." "Maybe they just haven't look hard enough. Anyway...they didn't have ME to help them, did they?" The Prince holds up his hand and looks at the ring. "Besides, there's no way I'm going to let this go. I wanna know how Ella found this ring, I wanna know what 'The Blessing' is and I REALLY wanna know what we might stand to gain." "I'm in," calls Nero, jumping up and approaching. "Anything the Prince can do, I can do. What about you, Illia? Are you going to go?" Illia slowly shuts her book and looks over at them. "Of course," she agrees. "My curiosity will not be satisfied with just that bit of information." "All right, then," announces Atlas, picking up the paper and tucking it into one of the leather pouches at his waist. "Hopefully, we'll return to tell you of what we've seen, Kale. I'll be sure to write down what I can..." They headed for the door when Kale called for them to stop. "Yes?" "I'm going, too," he says simply. "Are you sure? It'll be dangerous and people will probably lose their lives." "Fortunately for you, my dislike of violence is only triumphed by my love of knowledge." Atlas smiles and pulls his hood back up. "Just give me a few moments to collect some things and we can be off." "Atlas," calls Illia. "Do you even have an idea of where we might be heading?" "The Venators mountains, north of Aer. They stand between us, and the northern county of Majores. Legend says that the Terin people made their home in them..." - - - The Prince was gone...he had simply vanished and left them to meet with the guide at the city gates. Illia assumed that he went to steal something so she paid it little mind. Nero ran ahead of them, attempting to mimic the moves of Atlas as he climbed on several boxes and otherwise made a nuisance of himself to the other people on the street. The amazon snatched him up by the back of his tunic as he ran within reach of her again. "Stay still, boy," she tells him, pulling him to her side. "Why?" he asks. "I'm not doing anything bad." She shakes her head as they approach who they believe to be the 'contact' that Atlas spoke of. Beside him stands a VERY tall man with skin as dark as ebony. He looks in their direction and acknowledges them with a nod of his head. Lin looks over as well and his eye's are immediately drawn to Illia, devouring her form with barely concealed lust. "Well, hello," he says in greeting. "My name is Lin. What is yours, miss?" Illia quickly sizes up the man and decided that she didn't like him almost immediately. There was no particular reason for it but...it was just something about him that rubbed her the wrong way. She felt she should be wary of this man. "Illia. Is this man the guide?" questions Illia, receiving a nod in return. "Good. Then, I believe our business is concluded. You may go now." Lin grumbles a bit, but with nothing to delay his departure he leaves them. No sooner had he disappeared from view then Atlas made his appearance. The thief stepped out of an alley, hefting a pack loaded with supplies for their journey. He stops in his tracks when he notices their guide. "Nizel!" exclaims the Prince. "So nice to see you again! You're looking well." "Heh, long time no see, Prince," responds the man with a slight accent. "I had heard that snake Vergil led them to the Guild. I thought I might count you among the casualties." "Not yet. There are still too many things I haven't done." "Really?" "Of course!" The Prince approaches closer and stops in front of the man. Only then did Illia and the other's truly see the difference between the two. Nizel stood at least a head taller then Atlas, and but seemed just as nimble. "I've stolen from a king...I have to steal from an emperor next." The two shared a laugh. "Only you, Prince. Come. We must be on our way." "Actually, we've changed our plans. We're not just heading to Aer. We need to go to the Venators mountains." Nizel nodded in understanding, hefting his tall spear to rest along his broad shoulders. "I can take you. We'll be needing warm clothes to pass through the canyon, though. We can acquire those in Aer. Come, friend. We waste time standing about..." - - - "Kale," called Illia, attracting the scholars attention. "You know about his past...how do Atlas and Nizel know one another?" The man shoved his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Well, I can't say," responds the man. "I've only known him for a bit, and we have never traveled together before now, Miss Illia. I cannot tell you who he has or hasn't met." The amazon glances forward at the two, riding several paces ahead of the three of them. "Many smugglers use the desert to transport their shipments because of the danger involved. Someone like Nizel, who knows which routes to take, would be invaluable." Illia nodded and turned her attention to their surroundings. The path they currently took was bathed in the afternoon sunlight, warming her skin against the cool breeze and the salty spray of the sea which crashed endlessly against the rocks. The amazon closed her eye's and just basked in it. The plaintive cry of the sea birds, the chirping of the small insects and the crashing of the waves served to put her mind at ease. All seemed to be right in the world. Illia's eyes opened and her emerald gaze drifted to the Prince, sitting with his back ridged and his shoulders squared in his saddle. He had the look of a soldier...not a thief. The hours slowly passed by, and they had firmly left behind the city of Atlantis. Dusk had spread it's wings across the world, bringing with it a myriad of colors to paint the sky. Still, they persisted along their path. The Prince had slowly drifted back and Illia now rode beside the young thief. Atlas reached up and brushed his hood back, slowly turning his head up to gaze at the painted sky. "Beautiful," mutters the thief. "It is," agrees Illia. She shifted a bit in her saddle and then glanced over at Atlas. "What...exactly was your relationship with that woman, Ella?" The Prince smirks. He looks over at the amazon, eye's sparkling with amusement. "Do you ask out of curiosity...or a more personal interest, Miss Illia?" "Huh. I just figured I should know more about the wanted thief I'm traveling with." Atlas laughs at the suddenly very defensive Illia. "What's so funny?" "Hmm. Well, it's not something I can exactly put into words." "Were you...lovers?" "It was more then that. For the time we had we shared everything we were with each other. There was nothing we kept from each other. She gave my life direction..." His face adopts a far off look, as if he were in another place entirely. A place on he, and Ella knew of. The Prince's eye's seemed so soft, so gentle. It was the way one looked at the person they truly cared for...and for some strange reason, it stung her. It was a known fact that amazon women did not marry. With so few males among them, they were not afforded the luxery of a relationship. But it was obvious, even to her, that he had loved Ella like no one before...and like no one he ever would since... The Prince of Thieves Ch. 06 Hi, it's Useli! This chapter took FOREVER! I must've written and rewritten this chapter ten times, and I really felt like there was no good way to introduce what I wanted to, but I finally settled on this. Rest assured, everything I do has a reason. Be sure to read and review! ------- Nero approached the amazon slowly. "Illia, can you help me with this puzzle box?" he asks her, twisting it this way and that. "Ask the thief," she responded curtly, focusing on the horse in front of her. "Uh...o-ok." He turned from the apparently irritable amazon and approached the thief. Nizel, Kale and Atlas were all gazing at a map they had spread out across the top of a stump. "Hey, Prince, can you give me a hint." He glanced up from the map at the boy. "And, uh..." The boy thief looks over his shoulder at Illia. "...why does Illia seem so angry?" "I don't know," replies Atlas, taking the puzzle from the boy, and turning it a few times. "Maybe she just needs some space?" Nero looks from the thief to back at the amazon. "She seems really upset with you." "Why would she be mad at me? I don't think I did anything to upset her." He tossed the puzzle box back to the boy and crossed his arms. Nero looked down at the box, turning it over and over again in his hands and drawing a blank as to the next move. "Well, what'd you say to her?" "The last thing she asked me about was Ella, and she hasn't spoken to me since." The boy turned his head up in thought and Atlas knelt down. "What? You know something?" "Hmm...are you sure you didn't do something else?" "Not that I can think of." The boy shoves the puzzle box into the satchel at his hip and crosses his arms as well. "Sometimes people just need a little space." "Heh, maybe she's jealous." Atlas starts laughing and stops when Nero doesn't. "I'm serious. You were talking about someone who you used to be with and now she's upset." "Nero, I can count the number of amazons I've ever met and spoken with on ONE hand, so that's not a lot. But it's a known fact that amazons don't hold relationships with men." "Miss Illia is different, Prince." "I'll concede that point, but--" "We should be moving on," calls Illia. "We've wasted enough time here." Nizel and Kale nod, packing the map up and heading towards their mounts. It only took a few moments for them to set back on the path. Nero's words stuck with the Prince. Was she truly jealous? It was hard to believe, but didn't seem entirely out of the realm of possibility to Atlas. She had agreed to travel with him so easily, nursed him back to health despite having rescued him and squared their debt in the first place. 'Maybe there might be something to this?' silently wonders the Prince... - - - The world was silent...covered in a blanket of thick snow. The flurries floated down slowly, dancing this way and that at the mercy of the ever changing wind. It crunched beneath his boots as he slowly turns to gaze around the city. Bathed in the glow of the full moon it sparkled so brilliantly, so beautifully. It seemed so familiar, but he couldn't recall the name. The buildings were different then any city he could recall. "Come, child," sounded an ethereal voice from behind. He whirled around to face an alter. Shrouded in the darkness, a woman's silhouette beckoned, urged him closer and closer still to her. "Who are you?" questions the thief, slowly approaching. He could make out nothing more then her eye's, which seemed to sparkle more brightly then the most brilliant amethyst he'd ever seen. He had no reason to trust this figure...but the oddest feeling of complete safety over took him as he drew near. He felt as safe around her as a newborn in it's mother's arms. "Where am I?" He could almost hear the woman smile. "You know this place. It is as familiar to you as the beating of your own heart." He stopped several feet short of the alter like structure and the woman. "The path you tread is riddled with dangers, child. Some obvious...and others not so much." "Who are you?" "I am the one you have always sought since first you drew breath." He opened his mouth to respond and the woman held up a single hand, effectively silencing the thief. "Seek me out, and I shall answer all your questions." "Where are you?" "Your heart knows the way even if you do not. It will guide you forward to me as it has always urged you to do, Atlas." His eye's widened a bit in surprise at the use of his name. "How do you--" "I know well the names of all my children." He slowly holds up his hand to gaze at the silver ring upon his finger and then back at the woman shrouded in darkness. "Are you...am I...?" There was a sparkle of amusement in her eye's as he fumbled with his words. "You shall have your answers when we meet. Until that time, I bid you...take this." She stretched out a hand from the darkness, clutching a beautiful dagger with a glimmering amethyst set in the pommel. He was rather skeptical but approached anyway. "It is, after all, rightfully yours..." - - - Atlas woke with a start. The thief leaned up quickly. He slowly scanned the area, finding himself no longer in a snow covered city, but a small clearing in the forest. "Whew," breathes the Prince. "What a strange dream." Something clatters to his immediate right and he looks down. His eye's widen in absolute surprise as he stares at a dagger. "What the..." He reaches down and picks up the weapon. "I-Impossible." "Unh, Prince?" questions a tired voice. Atlas jumps, hides the dagger behind his back and looks over at Nero. The boy slowly sits up and rubs his eye's. "Is it time to get up?" The Prince shakes his head. "No. Go back to sleep." The boy nods and lays back down. Atlas stands and wanders a few yards away from their camp, gazing at the glossy black sheath of the dagger. 'It's impossible. It was only a dream,' the Prince tells himself silently. He grips the handle. 'It feels real enough.' Drawing the weapon free of the sheath he looks over the weapon slowly. It looked real enough, as well. He scraped a thumb across the edge of the blade and recoiled immediately, looking in amazement at the thin line of blood it had drawn from just the slightest contact. "Hmph...no way is THIS going in my boot." He returns the weapon to it's sheath and releases a heavy sigh. "I must be going completely mad," mutters the thief. "Atlas," came a voice from behind. He jumped at the female voice and turned immediately. At his aggressive move, Illia responded with a grip on the hilt of her sword. "What are you doing?" "Nothing. What are you doing up?" "What are YOU doing up?" counters Illia, releasing her grip on the hilt of her iron sword. "And out here no less. Did you see something?" He just shrugged in response. "Just stretching," lied Atlas. "It's almost dawn and I wanted to be ready for once." The thief turned and headed back towards the camp. He had nearly passed the amazon when she caught him by the wrist. He slowly glanced back at her, a single golden eyebrow arched in question. "Do not lie to me. What have you got in your hand?" Atlas held up the weapon for her to see. "I took it while we were in Atlantis." She released his wrist. "It doesn't surprise me." It was Atlas's turn to stop her as she turned to return to the camp. It was a move that the amazon didn't particularly like. "Let go." "Why are you so agitated, Illia? What is going on with you?" Illia looked away from the man, something she'd never done before. She focused her gaze back towards the camp fire several yards away from them. It's orange glow splashed through the tree's, vainly attempting to bring light to the surrounding darkness of the world. "N-Nero seems to think that you might be...jealous." Atlas starts laughing at that and stops when she doesn't join him or respond. "You're supposed to laugh." She turned quickly, pulling her wrist free from the lax grip of the thief. "What do you think of me, Atlas?" He cocked his head slightly. Illia almost never asked his opinion and for her to do so out of the clear blue was a bit confusing. "Honestly." "I think you're the single greatest swordsman--" "Swordswoman," corrected Illia with a rather sever look on her face. A sparkle of amusement dances in his amber eye's and a smile appears on his face. "Single greatest swordswoman I've ever met in my life." "And...as a woman?" She stepped closer now, only inches separating them. "What do you think of me as a woman, Atlas?" The thief chuckled. "An amazon seeking a man's approval? I believe I've seen everything now. But since you asked...I cannot think of ANY woman I'd like to have at my side more then you, Miss Illia." "Why is that?" "You rescued me, nursed me back to health and then turned your back on your own people to travel with me. I don't think anyone else would have done that." "When you tell it like that it makes me sound rather foolish." "Well, what would that make me, then?" The two shared a small laugh. He wasn't sure what spurred the action, or just WHY he followed through with it but before he could stop himself he had leaned down and giving her a chaste kiss upon the lips. Illia stood there in silence for a few moments. "Sorry, I--" He was silenced when the amazon slanted her lips in a rough kiss, one hand gripping the back of his neck firmly. Already she was trying to take control of the situation. Atlas had no problem letting a woman take the lead...especially if that woman happened to be Illia. The Prince devoured her lips, hungering for her kiss like nothing he ever had. It felt more then right to the both of them. Before Atlas could respond further someone cleared their throat, attracting their attention. Both looked over quickly at Kale. "Sorry to interrupt, but don't you think that perhaps we should be going?" questions the scholar. "Hey! Kale! Perfect timing," responds Atlas, a bit irritated. Illia takes a step back, freeing herself from the arms of the Prince. "We should go," agrees Illia, sounding irritated as well but it seemed she was doing a better job of hiding it. The amazon walked towards the fire, leaving the two of them alone... - - - Kale shoved his specticals up the bridge of his nose and looked over at the Prince. He hadn't spoken a word to the scholar since they had broken camp and now the sun was fairly high in the sky. Since the two had drifted back a few yards from the others, the scholar felt he could address what he had interrupted. "Exactly how close have you become to Miss Illia?" questions Kale. "That's none of your concern," responds the Prince. "You always told me never to mix business and pleasure...but now you're breaking your own rules?" The thief shifts a bit in his saddle and looks over at the male now. "It's more like a guide-line I have then an actual rule, and one I'm choosing to ignore, Kale." The scholar shook his head slowly, suddenly looking very serious. "Alright. Tell me this...how do you expect this to end?" The Prince cock's his head a bit in confusion. "She's an amazon and you're a thief. A damn good thief, but a thief all the same. Do you honestly expect that she'll not return to her people?" "I don't think that far ahead and neither should you. It's not good for you to worry about things that haven't happened, yet." Atlas looks forward, just in time to catch Illia looking over her shoulder at them. He flashes a charming grin from under his hood to which she responds by looking back. Atlas spurred his mount forward, eventually coming to be side by side with Illia. "I see that you and Kale are getting along," comments the woman. "Hopefully it'll last this time." "Hopefully, but not likely. I think once the excitement wears off he'll be back to his normal self...unfortunately." Illia manages to surpress a smile. "And I thought you two were friends." "We are. But that doesn't mean we always get along." The thief sighs a bit. "Nizel, how long until we reach the next town?" The man turns his head up in thought. "If memory serves, we should reach the next town by this time tomorrow. I'd caution you against a bit of honest thieving, if I thought it would do any good." Atlas laughs and nods. "Well, just for arguments sake, what do I have to look forward to?" "The town itself is considered to be a part of Atlantis, but is ruled over by a duke who answers to the ruler in Atlantis. He's rather unforgiving to even the most petty criminal, so be careful. Also, I'd ask that you keep to the shadows when we arrive. I noticed several posters with yours, and Miss Illia's face before we left the city. It seems the king of Solis does not like being made a fool of, Atlas. It's a blow to the ego." "Oh, how awful! Had I only known what sort of damage I could do to his fragile ego by stealing his crown! I should apologize at once." "Don't instigate," comments Illia, much like a mother scolding a misbehaving child. "You heard her, Atlas," agrees Nizel, a wry smile on his face. "Don't instigate, Nizel," counters Atlas, in a mocking tone of voice. "Would you two knock it off?" questions the amazon. "You sound like children." The two continue to pick at each other, much to the dismay of Illia. "I'm going to have to separate you two before the day is out, aren't I?" "Probably." A chuckle escaped before she could stop herself. Atlas immediately called his mount to a halt. "Wait." Everyone stopped and watched as the thief scanned their surroundings. "Hear that?" Nizel nods in agreement. Kale listens carefully to the loud calling. "It sounds like an animal," speaks the scholar. "It's probably a fox caught in a trap." He slides from the saddle. "Can't be," retorts Nizel. "What could one possibly trap here?" "Wait here while I go have a look." Kale hands the reigns of his horse to Nizel as he passes. "I'll be right back." Atlas sighs heavily. "You're going to get bitten," calls the thief, watching him disappear into the thick brush. The Prince slides from the saddle which is immediately followed by Illia. "Damn him. He's going to end up getting mauled or run through with a sword for freeing a trapper's catch." "That's Kale," comments Illia simply. "Always the noble one." Atlas brushes back a thick, low lying branch and nearly runs right into the scholar. "Kale, what is..." Her words are stopped when she notices the absolutely HUGE animal caught in the trap. The sleek white wolf snarls in warning, amber eye's glowering with anger. The beautiful white fur upon it's hide leg was marred an amazingly vivid shade of crimson. "That is one big wolf," speaks Atlas, laughing a bit. "Well..." He places his hands upon his hips and sighs. "...now what, Kale?" The scholar shoves his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "I suppose we ought to free it," he tells them, slowly approaching. The wolf watches him the entire time, amber eye's never leaving his person as he grows closer and closer. He slowly extends a hand towards the trapped animal. "Easy, boy. I'm not--" There's a loud snarl and Kale yanks his hand back in time for the loud 'click!' of it's snapping jaws to fill the air. Atlas begins laughing immediately as the scholar falls on his ass. He approaches and helps him stand up. "Any more ideas you'd like to put out there?" "I'd like to see you try, Prince!" Atlas nods in understanding and turns towards the wolf. "I thought you'd never ask, Kale." The thief brushes back his hood and approaches the animal carefully. He extends a hand, holding the wolf's gaze with his own...and to both Kale and Illia's complete amazement, places it upon it's large head. The thief kneels down next to the wolf. "Easy, girl, easy. Just let me have a look." It's snarls turn into whines as he examines the cruel metal trap. "Illia, I need a thick branch, something to help me pry this open." The amazon disappeared into the brush and Kale slowly approached. "How...?" The Prince glanced back at the scholar and smiled. "It's an animal thing." "Obviously." He extends a hand towards the wolf once more, only to yank it back when she snarls at him. "Seems she only has eye's for you." "Very funny, Kale." Several moments pass before they hear the approach of Illia, who kneels down by the wolf's trapped leg without so much as a growl in warning. "Or, maybe she just doesn't like YOU, Kale." It took a bit of doing but in only a moment's time the steel jaws were pried open and the wolf stepped free. "Hey!" came an angry voice. All three of them glanced in the direction of the man's voice to find a trapper standing there. "What do you think you're doing?!" The wolf began to snarl, hackles raised and fang's bared as she stared at the man. "Freeing a trapped animal," speaks Illia. "One that shouldn't have been caught to begin with." The trapper approached quickly, hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "It's not wise to mess with a man's traps." Illia responds in kind, with Atlas gripping the hilt of the dagger in his boot. Confronted with such odds the trapper takes a step back. "What the hell am I supposed to do now?" "There are always more furs to take. Go somewhere else." The trapper took the advice, slowly backing away from them until he disappeared into the brush. Atlas looked in the direction of the wolf only to find her gone. "Why do females always run off on me?" he askes aloud. "Just your bad luck, Atlas," comments Kale. "We should be going before it comes back." "Oh, I'd wager that's not the last we'll see of her." The scholar adjusts his glasses slightly. "Really?" Atlas slowly looks over at Illia, a wry smile on his face. "Wolves are proud creatures, you know. She'll be back to repay the debt, that much I'm sure of." Kale and Illia both rolled their eye's in response. "While I highly doubt that, stranger things have happened, I suppose. Now, if you please, let's go..." - - - The sun was just beginning to disappear behind the horizon when they had come across a small trading post. Goods and wares of all kinds were being peddled tirelessly by the men and women coming and going. "We shouldn't linger here," comments Nizel. "Look." He motioned to a message board, from which hung many different pictures of criminals. The newest of them happened to be a pair of nearly two foot long posters, emblazoned with the images of Illia and Atlas respectively. Atlas slid from the saddle of his horse and approached the message board. "Well, I'd say that captured me fairly well," jokes the man, examining his own hooded likeness. There was little else to identify him beyond the black hood. No description at all. But the vast sum of gold offered for him and for her was simply amazing. Combined, it was enough to buy one a kingdom. "They didn't capture my eye's all that well, though. But my, what a lovely picture of Miss Illia, wouldn't you agree?" "This is no laughing matter. These posters will only make traveling all the more difficult." "Just relax, Nizel. It's not the first time my face has appeared on a piece of parchment. How about you, Illia? Are you worried?" The amazon shrugged in response. "Should I be?" she questions him. "We're going to attract attention no matter where we go. The best thing we can hope to do is try to attract a little less as we do move." "Well said. But even so, we should get a move on." He tore down both posters and tossed them away. "I'm not all that eager to acquire a set of bracelets this early in our travels..." The Prince of Thieves Ch. 07 Caliga surrounded them, a fortress of grey stone and shadows. The town just seemed so dark. Even the clouds above the town were a depressing shade of grey that threatened rain at any moment. "Everyone seems so lively," comments Nero, causing smiles to appear on the faces of Nizel and Atlas. "I don't like this place, Prince. I feel like everyone is watching us." "It's because they are," Illia tells him. "Why are they watching us, Nizel?" "Perhaps it has something to do with the wanted posters splashed all over the walls," responds the dark skinned male. He motions towards one particular piece of parchment depicting the amazon. "I would have said it was because she was so beautiful," speaks Atlas with a wry smile. "I had the same reaction when we first met." Kale rolls his eye's. "Can we just stay on topic?" asks the scholar. "You're just jealous that you're not on a poster, Kale. It's a burden we bear to be so wanted." Nero and Nizel both share a brief laugh at that. "Only you, Prince," calls Nizel. "If we're not careful. We're all like to end up attracting attention." Atlas nodded in agreement and called his mount to a halt. "I've got a few errands I need to take care of," speaks the thief. "I'll catch up with all of you shortly..." - - - The grey sky had given way to rain, and it drenched the entire town. Illia liked the rain nearly as much as she liked the sea. Its smells, the sounds...it was all so relaxing compared to every day life. She stoked the fire, warding off the chill brought with the rain and sighed. There came a knock at the door and before she could call for whoever it was to enter the door opened and Atlas stepped in. Water dampened the floor as it dripped from his clothes and his boots squished softly with each step. "I see it's raining," teases the amazon. It brings a smile to the thief's lips and he flicks several cold droplets of water from his finger-tips in her direction. "I was the first to know," responds Atlas. "Standing on a roof has it's advantages I see." He just shrugs and sits on the foot of the bed, removing his boots. "Is there any particular reason you've chosen my room to undress?" "You've got a fire going, and I'm chilled to the bone. Would you turn a poor young man away?" The amazon tosses a piece of kindling into the fire. "Get undressed." A wry grin splits the Prince's face. "I don't mean for that, Atlas. You need to get out of those wet clothes if you want to warm up." "Fine." He stands and removes his belt, tossing it to the floor beside his boots and then striping his vest off. Illia stood and turned, only to be surprised as he tossed his wet vest at her. Atlas smiles and sits down on the edge of the bed once more. Illia looks over at the thief who is now only wearing his wool trousers. "So, you came to my room...late at night." She adds the vest to the growing pile of clothes. "Is talking what you really had in mind, Atlas?" The Prince smiles and chuckles. "Oh, I'm supposed to make the first move? I thought amazons liked to be in control." Illia approached slowly, gazing down at the thief. "We do." "Mm." His hands came up and captured hers, twining their fingers together. "Well...far be it from me to demand you change." The Prince's smile faded somewhat as he became aware of the sound of loud shouting over the sound of the heavy rain. They were coming from the street outside of the Inn. "Just...just a moment." He disengages himself from the amazon and approaches the window, peering through the foggy glass down at the street...and Vergil! "What is it?" questions Illia rather impatiently. "Vergil." In a moment she's standing next to him, peering out the window as well at the thief. "Those men...they must be Royal Guard from Solis." "How did they find us?" "We don't exactly blend in." Atlas watched as Vergil speaks with several of the men before continuing down the street towards the large manor on the hill. "The Duke must be putting them up while they search for us." "We should leave tonight, then. If we stay we'll only be captured." "True enough." The amazon looked at the man, his jaw tight and eyes firmly set upon the figure of Vergil through the heavy rain. "I'm going to go have a little word with him. I'll catch up with you outside the city." "Atlas, now is not the time to be chasing revenge." "I may never get another chance like this, Illia." The thief steps away from the window and quickly pulls his clothes back on before heading for the door. Illia catches him by the wrist and he stops. "Is it worth getting captured? Getting killed?" "If you had a chance to take revenge against those who captured you and threw you in that cell in Solis...would you take it?" Her grip on his wrist turns lax and Atlas turns. The thief steps close and places a chaste kiss on her lips. "I have to do this. He sold me out, sold out everyone in the Guild. I cannot allow such betrayal to go unpunished." Illia places a hand on the back of his neck and pulls him into another kiss. "Try not to do something idiotic...like get killed." A wry smile splits Atlas' face and he nods. "No promises." Then, Atlas left the room... - - - The rain drenched everything, making the roof tiles slippery. It failed to deter the male who ran along them, the cold rain drenching him to his core. Images of times past, friends laughing and talking around a fire flashed through his mind and drove him towards a single objective....end Vergil. The man who stripped him of that simple pleasure. He dashed along a small beam and stopped at the edge of the roof. The manor stood before him, a winding cobble-stone road the only available means of reaching it to normal people. He would have scaled the cliffs were it not for the rain that soaked everything. But it wouldn't deter him from entering. He looked around, eventually stopping his amber gaze upon a lone guard posted in front of the winding road. Were it not for the small lantern that hung out of the rain courtesy of a small awning, he would have been left completely in the darkness. Atlas dropped down to ground level and made a slow approach. There was no way to approach from behind, so the guard saw Atlas' approach. "What are you doing out this late?" questions the guard. "Go back to your home, citizen." A bolt of lightning streaks through the sky, illuminating the Prince and causing the silvery blade of his dagger to glint in the sudden light. The thief rushes forward as the guard reaches for the hilt of his sword far too slowly to defend himself. The beginning of a scream is torn from his throat moments before it's slashed open by the Prince. The crimson tide of blood rushes down his chest, staining his already mud spattered surcoat. Atlas was in awe that the sharpness of his newly acquired dagger. It had cut FAR deeper then he had thought it would. Returning the weapon to it's sheath at his lower back he knelt down, lifted guardsman and carried the body out of view of everyone else. Though he felt it was wrong to rob the dead, he took what little coin was left on the man and then started up the winding path. To the Prince, it seemed like an eternity before he reached the top. The urge to just rush in and kill Vergil for his betrayal clawed at his soul. With every slow, calm step he forced himself to take he felt as though Vergil was getting further and further away from him. He took one final step and found himself standing in front of the manor. There were two guardsmen posted in front of the door, both fitted with plate armor. He knelt down behind a small bush and watched for several moments. They didn't seem to be going anywhere. Just the same, he wasn't going to take the front door. The Prince was so engrossed within his own thoughts that he failed to hear the approach of someone from behind until a hand was clamped over his mouth. "Shh," came the harsh demand of Illia. "Just relax." He nodded and she released him immediately. "What are you doing?" he asks her. "I thought you left the city?" "And let you do something this foolish? Hardly." She moved around to kneel beside him. "Are we taking the front door?" Atlas responds with a shake of his head. "If Vergil thinks for a second that I have found the rock he's hiding under, he won't hesitate turn tail and run. That's just the kind of man he is." "How cowardly." "My thoughts exactly." The two of them skirted what they believed to be the guardsman's field of vision. The amazon followed behind Atlas, relying on his vast experience of skulking around in the darkness of night. The rain muted any sound their weapons and armor produced as they moved across the well manicured grounds of the manor. The two picked a window with no candle burning in it and approached slowly. The Prince peeked in to make sure that there truly was no one within the room before he reached up and opened the window. Atlas grunted a bit as he pulled himself up into the room and then turned to offer a hand to Illia. The amazon woman ignored it and pulled herself into the room, closing the window behind them. The room was very obviously a store-room of some kind, with cleaning items of all kinds stacked upon the shelves. "What now, Atlas?" The thief approaches the door and presses himself against the wall, quietly cracking it to offer a peek out into the hall. "We check the second floor. That's where he'll be." Illia approached the thief, standing behind him. "How do you know?" "Because I would be there, too." With one more peek to make sure the coast was clear, Atlas opens the door fully and steps out into the beautifully decorated hall. Portraits of family lined the walls of the hall, vivid and colorful as the very day they were painted. Neither of them were familiar with the dark halls but quickly found their way to the mainhall. Atlas' and Illia's booted foot-steps echoed slightly on the marble floor of the grand hall. Thankfully, most of the noise was blotted out by the sound of heavy rain. They started up the staircase only to give pause at the sound of a beautifully performed sonata, haunting the otherwise silent manor. A frown split the thief's face as he slowly took the last few steps to the second floor. "What is it?" "Shh." They followed the sonata to it's origin and instead of peek inside, Atlas threw the doors wide open. Vergil sat with his back to the two of them, fingers gliding over the ivory keys in front of him. "You need practice." "Indeed," responds Vergil simply. "Though unfortunately I haven't much time to devote to my craft these days. I spend most of it chasing you, Prince." He stands and turns to face them. "Well...I'd heard you were traveling with that amazon, though I never imagined there was truth to the rumor. Impressive." "If I were you I wouldn't worry about her, Vergil." "You've come to kill me." Atlas drew his dagger from it's sheath at his lower-back in response. "Very well. We'll settle this like men." Vergil reached back and drew a curved blade from a sheathe strapped to his back. It was a bit bigger then a dagger with a wicked curve, but lacked the reach of a true sword and Atlas knew he was deadly with it. The doors are thrown open moments later and in strides the Duke, several members of his personal guard following. Illia drew her sword in response. He was a tall man with a silver beard and a sword at his hip. It was clear by the way he carried himself that he had at one time been a soldier. "Halt!" The guards immediately stopped at Vergil's command. "No one interfere." Atlas and Vergil squared off with one another. "I'll take pleasure in killing you, Prince." "Boast all you want, it won't make a bit of difference after I've spilled your guts, Vergil." The two men rushed towards each other. It was clear to Illia that they were equals in terms of skill. They dodged each other's weapons or redirected an incoming blow with their own before lashing out violently. She'd only seen Atlas fight a handful of times, but never had his eye's seemed so cold. It was the look of a man not bent on simple victory but murder. The amazon watched as they lashed out at one another, flowing from offense to defense seamlessly. It was amazing to watch them fight, even knowing that only one of them would be walking away. "Why?!" demanded Atlas. "You were like a brother to me! Why would you sell out everyone in the Guild? Is your greed so great that the lives of your friends mean nothing when weighed against your own personal gain?" "You think that is why I did it?" "Why else?!" "You, Prince! It was always you!" Even Illia was confused by that answer. How had Atlas wronged him? "Ella taught me the same as she taught you! But no matter what I did, or how much better I was then you everyone only ever saw YOU! Are you truly so much better then I?!" "What are you talking about? Everyone knew your name as they knew mine!" "Wrong! I was ALWAYS the better thief! You became the Prince of Thieves and I was never able to step out of your shadow! Everyone always believed you are better then me! Always believed you are superior to me! Even Ella only had eyes for you, a simple street urchin!" "You sold us out because you were jealous?!" Atlas growled and pressed Vergil harder, landing a strike across his hip. The man stumbled backwards, howling in pain and rage. His crimson blood stained the white marble floor. "Money I could respect, but jealousy...you're more pathetic then I thought, Vergil." Vergil rushes forward, face contorted in a silent snarl. Atlas side-steps the infuriated man and slashes him across the top of the arm. The dagger bites clean to the bone, severing the muscles. Vergil cries out and drops the blade with a loud clatter against the marble floor. He cradles his now limp hand against his chest and steps backwards from the Prince. "Guards! Arrest these two! By order of the King!" Atlas knelt down and retrieved Vergil's blade to use against them as members of the Royal Guard surrounded them. Instead of the fight that Atlas and Illia anticipated, the Duke motions towards the retreating Vergil and the members of the guard. His own guardsmen surrounded them, weapons drawn. Atlas and Illia were confused by this turn of events. "What are you doing? You traitor!" The guard and Vergil were escorted from the room at sword point, leaving only Illia, Atlas and the Duke. The man looked at the two of them. "You have quite a bit of gall to break into my home," speaks the Duke. "Though, it provided me the opportunity to be rid of that insufferable man." Atlas smiled a bit from under his hood. "So I'm conflicted. Do I throw you in jail, as you so rightfully deserve, or do I release you for the service you provided me?" "Well, it is just us," responds Atlas. "Who's to say that we didn't escape through one of the windows before we could be captured?" The Duke smiled and nodded. "My thoughts exactly. Of course, you realize that I'll have to place the murders of the Royal Guard and that man, Vergil, solely upon you both. If you are captured, I can offer you no assistance on your way to the gallows." "I know." The Duke called for his men and the doors opened again. A single man entered the room, carrying the sheath to Vergil's blade. The weapon was meant to be worn across the back and that required a few straps across the chest to hold it tight. He affixed the sheath to himself, a strap running across his chest from shoulder to hip and one across the ribs from chest to back to hold it firmly in place. After testing his range of movement and finding it to his liking, he then awkwardly returned the weapon to it's sheath. It would take some getting used to but Atlas was sure he could learn to weild it effectively. "If you would see your chore through...Vergil will be held in the dungeon." Illia and Atlas nod in response... - - - They gathered at the tavern, none of the seedy patrons giving them a second glance as they sat at their own table. They had all decided to return to the city for the night, rather then weather the storm and risk freezing in the cold rain on the trail ahead. "Are you alright?" questions Illia, interrupting the long silence that had settled between them. "You seem troubled, Atlas. Is Vergil's death not as sweet as you imagined it would be?" "No," responds Atlas after several moments. "I thought that...I would feel some sort of...satisfaction." He taps several fingers against the wooden table and raises his flagon to take a long pull on the drink. "Instead I feel empty. Money I could respect. But simple envy...how he must have despised me. I cannot imagine the pure hated that spurred his decision to betray the Guild." "Often times its those closest to us that cause the most pain." "He was wrong, you know." Illia cocked her head slightly in confusion. "I always saw his potential. It was my own foolishness that blinded me to his impending betrayal, deafened me even to Ella's words of caution. I refused to see what he had become...until it was too late." "We cannot predict what others will become, or what choices they may make. But never confuse their choices with your own. Vergil made his bed, and he had to lie in it. Every step he took, every decision he made was his own. They were influenced by his own delusions. He believed you had wronged him...that is what drove him to do what he did." "Huh. Perhaps. But now it's of no importance." There's a long pause between the two of them before the Prince sighs. "So, are the others alright?" "They're a bit wet...but otherwise unharmed. Kale was a bit upset, though." A bit of a smile appeared on Atlas' face. "Kale's always fussing of something or other." The Prince stood and placed a few coppers on the table. "I'm going to get some rest." "Are you going to be alright?" "I'll be fine. I just need to be alone to think for now." He captures one of her hands in his and places a kiss to her knuckles. "If you need me, you know where I'll be, Illia." The Prince released her hand and turned away, leaving the tavern. All the patrons heard it, and it confused everyone. As the door closed behind the thief a long, mournful howl broke through the rainy night... The Prince of Thieves Ch. 08 None of them exchanged any words as they left behind Caligula for good. Nero leaned back against the Prince, fast asleep in the saddle. The boy was bundled up tightly in a thick traveling cloak, which had near become a necessity with the drop in the temperature. Early morning light streamed through the forest in an attempt to beat back the frost that clung to every surface it could. Atlas exhaled, his own breath visible in the cool air. 'Winter will be here soon,' the Prince tells himself silently. 'Hopefully we will have reached the desert by that time.' He rubs his arms in an attempt to ward off the chill. "You should wear something other then just a vest," Illia tells him. "You're going to catch your death, Atlas." The thief smiles, mischief dancing in his amber eyes. "I had no idea that you were so worried about me," teases Atlas. "I'm flattered." She shook her head in response to his teasing. "I will be just fine, Illia. Thank you for your concern." "Yeah, thanks for the concern, lady," chimes Nero, shifting a bit in the saddle. "I'm not cold at all, either." Atlas and Nizel both laughed a bit. "There is no point in complaining about things we cannot control," says Kale, adjusting his spectacles. "Nizel, what town can we expect to come upon next?" "That would be Unda, at the edge of the desert," responds Nizel. "It will be a weeks time, maybe more. We'll spend much of that time crossing the Vulpus Plains. When we reach Unda, we'll need to gather as many supplies as possible there before we begin our crossing to Aer." "How long will the crossing take?" "Hard to say. I made the crossing with a caravan the last time. It was a fortnight, at a hard pace. That is, of course, assuming we do not encounter any of the roaming tribes or bandits. Barring any such incidents it may be more or it may be less depending on how hard we ride." "We don't need to run our horses to death," comments Atlas, patting the neck of his black mount. "They've been rather cooperative considering the cold weather, wouldn't you agree?" Nizel nodded in agreement. "At any rate, I assume we'll be needing lighter clothes for the desert, right?" "Yes, we will." An hour passed in silence and some warmth was beginning to return to the frosted world. Illia had drifted back to ride beside Atlas, the two not exchanging any words until the amazon broke the silence. "What do you most remember about your childhood, Atlas?" asks Illia. The question caught him off guard completely. It wasn't that he didn't want to discuss his past it was that none cared to hear about it. The Prince simply shrugged in response. "There must be something." "I...don't know," responds Atlas. "I remember plenty of things about my childhood, but none that are particularly interesting." He shifts his weight in the leather saddle, mindful of Nero reclining back against him. "Why are you suddenly so interested?" "Humor me." A sigh escapes his lips and he looks over at her. "Solitude." "That is it? Solitude?" "I was living on the streets. Not many people paid me much mind, so I spent a lot of time alone." Atlas sighs and looks away from her for a moment. "What about you? What do you remember?" "Training. As far back as I can remember, I trained to be a soldier like everyone else." "Tell me about your people, Illia." "What do you wish to know?" "How about you teach me your language?" Her brows knitted together in confusion. "What?" "Why would you want to speak my language? Most everyone speaks Solarian. It is the language of trade." "Why not?" Illia sighs a bit. "It could take some time." "It's a LONG way to Aer..." - - - Atlas squatted low to the ground and stretched out one leg against the ground before shifting his weight to that leg and stretching the other. He could feel the muscles tightening up after such a long ride and it irritated him. "Atlas," calls Nizel, approaching him. "I didn't wish to say anything in front of the others, but...it appears we're being followed." Atlas stands and glances in the direction they had come from. "You're sure?" asks Atlas, resorting to Nizel's own language. If Solarian was the language of trade, then Maeror was most definitely the language of smugglers. Spoken by nearly all the tribes in the deserts surrounding Aer, it was a necessity to move things to and from places as quickly as possible. Atlas had learned enough from Nizel to get by in most ventures. But he was by no means fluent in it's use. "Not completely...but I suggest that we stay on our guard." He nodded in agreement. "What are you two speaking about?" questions Nero, looking between the two. "Is that Nizel's language?" "Yes," responds Nizel, speaking so the boy could understand him. "Occasionally, I enjoy speaking in my own language...or else I might begin to get a bit rusty in it's use." He seemed skeptical to say the least but didn't say anything more on it. Atlas approached Illia, placing a hand on her shoulder and stepping around to speak in a low voice. "Nizel believes we're being followed," Atlas informs her. "Have you noticed anything?" She glances back at him and shakes her head. "Huh." He meets her eye's. "I...want to thank you for yesterday. For helping me." "I understand, Atlas," responds Illia. "The desire for revenge is a powerful thing to feel. But in the future...just ignore it. If you get killed then I'll have to kill whoever it was that killed you. That'll make more trouble for me, understand?" He flashed a grin and nodded. "I had no idea that you cared so much. I'll definitely try not to cause you trouble...well, not much." Illia chuckled a bit, turning her attention back to her horse's tack. To Atlas, she seemed happy. He couldn't have imagined her laughing when they first met, but now it seemed normal. She sensed him staring and she glanced back at him. "Wha--" He leaned forward and kissed her. Normally, she'd have struck any male who attempted such an action without a second thought. But knowing that it was Atlas who was doing it made her feel...relaxed. He withdrew, a wily grin on his face. "We were interrupted the last time...rest assured, that won't happen the next." Mischief danced in Illia's green eyes and she turned to face him, a smile appearing on her face. "What makes you believe there will be a 'next time', Atlas?" "Well..." He captures her hand and raises it to place a kiss on the knuckles. It was a kiss she felt all the way up her arm. "...you DID let me kiss you." Illia moves closer. Only inches separate the two now. "To be correct, you did it without my permission. I'm not sure if I should be upset or not." "You're not sure?" One hand slid around Illia's trim waist and pulled her into contact with Atlas. His free hand came up to her chin and turned her head upwards towards him. It was like both were in their own little world. "Maybe I should do it again so you can decide..." "Hey, Prince!" calls a familiar voice. The two immediately separated and looked over at the approaching Nero. "Uh...are you two busy?" "Not at all." Atlas smiled at the boy. "What's on your mind...?" - - - The crackling of the fire and the chirping of the crickets were the only two sounds that the boy thief could hear. After a day of traveling they had finally stopped to make camp and a chill was setting in. Nero had bundled up in his thickest clothes, all things gotten for him by the Prince. He shifts his weight slightly, unable to find sleep. He was still for several moments before leaning up. The Prince looks up from the fire at the boy. "You can't sleep?" asks Atlas, spinning a twig between his nimble fingers. Nero responds with a shake of his head, gathering his woolen cloak around him tightly. "Is there something bothering you, Nero?" "Not...really," responds Nero, staring intently at the fire. "Come now. Speak up." The boy thief squirmed under the Prince's amber gaze. "Nero." "After...After we find this treasure...then what?" His brow creased in confusion. "Are we going to go our separate ways?" "I don't know what you mean." "You're planning to keep traveling...can I go, too?" Atlas flicked the twig into the fire. "I'm planning to go to Majores. Do you know what's in Majores, Nero?" "I don't care. I have no where to return to. No home to call my own." A look that Nero had never seen appears on the Prince's face. "Prince?" "You can come with me if you wish to. I'll teach you everything I know, I swear." Nero flashes a big grin and nods. "Good. Now get some rest. We've got a long day tomorrow." Nero laid back down and Atlas continued to sit up, staring at the dancing flames from under his dark hood. "Home, huh...?" - - - They woke early, a fresh coating of frost clinging to the world. They broke camp and started on the path once again. By the time the sun was high into the sky, the tree's had begun to thin out and soon disappear all together. The group crested the top of a large hill and stared out across the Vulpus plains. "Mind the sky," Nizel informs them, as they slowly begin to descend the hill. "Why?" questions Kale, suddenly very apprehensive. "Grazing animals make their homes on the Vulpus plains and where there's large game, there's Griffins. So mind the sky." Atlas spared only a single glance skyward before returning his attention to the plains ahead of him. "I can tell that you are concerned, Prince." "But of course," responds Atlas. "I would hate to be eaten by a Griffin, Nizel." "Is there perhaps anything else that might stand in our path?" asks Kale. "Sea monsters? Dragons?" A wily smile appeared on Atlas' face and he looked over at the scholar. "Not that I mean to compound the issue, but I've heard rumors that suggest dragons MAY make their home at the summit of Venators mountains." Atlas laughs at the look of dismay on the faces of both Nero and Kale. "It's just a rumor...but no reason to be any less mindful when the time comes. Always plan ahead." Illia clucked her tongue. "Dragons and griffins...this little journey of ours just gets more and more dangerous," comments Illia. Atlas breaths deep and releases a loud breath. "Looking at this open ground...it just makes me want to start running." The stallion snorted softly in response moments before he reared up. Atlas grunted and leaned further forward, squeezing his thighs against the horses flanks and then holding tightly. The moment all his hooves had returned to the earth he was galloping forward. "Damn it, Ezma!" Illia actually laughed at that. "You might want to control your horse better, Atlas!" She spurred her horse forward, following after him at a full gallop. It soon became a contest of who was faster. Laughter sounded from Nizel as he watched them shrink into the distance. Himself, Kale and Nero followed at a far more subdued pace. They had traveled far ahead of the others in their games and now were waiting for them to catch up. Atlas strokes one side of Ezma's thick neck with a light smile. "Been quite some time since you've stretched your legs, hm, Ezma?" The stallion nudges his large head into the thief's head in response. Atlas chuckles a bit. "That's a fine horse you have, Atlas," compliments Illia. "Why, thank you. I raised him from a colt, and I neglected to ride him as much as I should have." Atlas chuckles and pats his neck. "Though, I don't feel that's an issue now." "I suppose not." A strange singing suddenly reached their ears, causing them to look around for the source of the singing. As it turned out, it was coming from a lone man with long flowing hair, and a smile on his young face. They had failed to notice him before...but there he was. His singing was in a different language, one neither recognized. "Greetings, children," speaks the man, still walking slowly. "Very strange, seeing others out here." "Indeed," agrees Atlas, watching him carefully from under his hood. The thief was very mindful of the man's hands. Finding someone alone in the middle of the plains without a horse was a rather strange occurrence. It was then that Atlas recalled Nizel's words of warning. Indeed, they were being followed. "A strange song." "Hehe. I have been told as much. I...am Doran." He swept a extravagant bow to them both, his long hair brushing the ground as he did so. It was then that they both noticed a feature that they supposed would normally have been hidden by his long hair. The man had slanted, pointed ears. "An elf?" Doran leans up, smiling broadly. "Here?" Illia's hand went to the hilt of her sword and Doran held a single hand up to show he meant them no harm. "I believe we should be moving on." The amazon nods, turns and raises herself up into the saddle of her horse. Atlas did the same, turning his back to the elf who chuckled a bit. "You look just like your father, Atlas." Atlas turned Ezma quickly, facing the elf once more. "You very much resemble your father, actually. Except for your eyes. You have your mothers gentle eyes." "Who are you?" questions Illia, drawing her sword despite her position on horse-back. "If you would speak with him...you need only to seek him out. He awaits you in Aer." Doran turns away from the two. "During your travels I urge you to bear in mind that this choice can be made by no other. Both he and I will eagerly await your decision, Prince of Thieves." The elf walked toward the horizon, beginning what they assumed was an elvish song once. Illia didn't sheathe her sword until he had left their sight. She glances over at Atlas, who is sitting as ridged as ever in the saddle. "Atlas?" "I would be very appreciative if you didn't tell anyone about this, Illia." She nodded in understanding. "Of course. It is your business, after all." Hearing the beat of hooves both turn their attention to the approach of Kale, Nero and Nizel. As they draw near, Illia looks in the direction the man had left in, and then back at the others. "By chance, did any of you notice a man pass you before you arrived?" Nizel looks in the direction they had come from and then back to Illia. "No," was Nizel's simple response. He looks past the amazon for a moment. "Did something happen?" "Not at all," replies Atlas. "I never imagined it would take you quite so long to catch up. Have you gotten slow, Nizel?" He simply raised a hand in response to Atlas' teasing. They turned their horses in the direction the man had departed and began on the path to Aer again... - - - The silvery light of the moon bathed the world in it's other-worldly glow. The orange glow of the fire was flickering and dancing in the distance, it's light failing to reach the lone figure on top of the large rock. Atlas looks up at the pale orb hanging low in the sky. "My father," mutters Atlas. The thief failed to notice the approach of anyone else until his name is called. He looks back sharply at Illia and then smiles. "That's twice now you have snuck up on me." "I wasn't sneaking this time," replies Illia. "You simply were not paying any mind to my approach." Atlas chuckles and nods while Illia climbs up onto the large, flat boulder to stand beside the sitting thief. A smile spreads across his face, causing Illia to narrow her emerald green eye's. "What?" "Nothing. It's just...you seem to have climbed this boulder much easier then the last one." "This one isn't covered in slick moss." Atlas raises one leg up onto the edge of the rock and rests his elbow on his knee, his smile growing even wider under his black hood. "Well, I suppose if you have to have an excuse," teases Atlas, earning himself a slight nudge from Illia's booted foot in response. "Easy, you might start slipping and get hurt. I don't want to have to carry you back to the camp." This earned him a stern look from Illia. "I see you're trying to irritate me now, aren't you?" "I might be. It would depend on your answer, really." Illia's response is to kneel and gently wrap her arms around him. Atlas glances back at her, quirking a single brow skyward. "Illia?" "I know what it is you're doing, Atlas. You're trying to avoid the subject you most need to talk about." The thief sighs and looks away from her. "I WILL listen if you wish to talk." Atlas captured one of her hands in his and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. "I don't know what to do." Illia's eyes widened slightly at that admission. "This could be my one chance at something like a relationship with him but...do I even WANT one with a man who would so readily abandon his child?" He shakes his head slightly. "What would YOU do, Illia?" "I...I would ask myself, 'Will I regret not knowing him?'. Other then that, I can only tell you that everything you are is of your own doing. You taught yourself how to fight without his help, how to survive and exist. You have become a better man then he will ever be." Atlas chuckles and kisses her knuckles again. It never ceased to amaze him how Illia always seemed to be what he needed. "Thank you." A smile appears on his face. "You know, I believe you're starting to show your softer side to me. I must say, I really like it you have to do it more often, Illia." "...You really are trying to irritate me, now, aren't you?" Atlas laughs and turns quickly. Illia found herself on her back, the thief leaning over her with a smile on his face. "Oh? Are you planning to try to take the lead now?" "If you'll allow it, Mistress Illia," teases Atlas, leaning down and kissing her softly. "Well? How...about...it?" Atlas questions between kisses. Illia admittedly entertained the idea. Knowing that it was Atlas she was inviting upon her body didn't immediately dissuade her from it. It wasn't meant to be a slight, but she didn't completely trust ANY male. Still, she held the thief in high regards in terms of trust. One of her hands slid down his vest to his woolen trousers and the hardness straining against the fabric. He groans a bit as she rubs him and kisses her even more insistently. Illia breaks the kiss and smirks rather devilishly. "Sorry," taunts Illia. "Not this time, Atlas." With surprising ease she rolls him onto his back and straddles his hips. Atlas starts to lean up and she presses a hand against his hard chest, stopping him. "Ah-ah..." He smirks under his hood and nods, laying back and actually folding his hands behind his head in a show of relaxation. Even now he wasn't taking this seriously...except For his hardness pressed against her behind reminded her that he wasn't as calm as he appeared. Illia was there as well, the heat and dampness between her legs a reminder that it had been quite some time since she had had the chance to enjoy the touch of a man. "Prince! Illia!" called the familiar voice of Nero. "Where are you two?!" Illia slumps forward against Atlas' hard chest, an exasperated sigh escaping from her. "I suppose we should be flattered that he wants to spend so much time with us," comments Atlas. He found it rather difficult to move remove her delicious weight from his lap. Regardless, the two leaned up and Illia then slowly stood. When Atlas made no attempt to move she arched a brow. "I, uh...I think I'll wait here for a moment." Now Illia laughed. "Men are so easy to read, Atlas," teases Illia, walking away from the thief. Atlas looks down at himself and releases a heavy sigh, a shake of his head following. "Heh. It's always something..." The Prince of Thieves Ch. 09 Hey, it's Useli! Be sure to read and review, ladies and gentlemen. I'll be sure to sure to keep pushing out chapters when I have free time. Thanks for reading! - - Their traveling was done at a good pace. They began their traveling early, before the sun had spread it's gilded wings across the azure sky and continued even when the golden sun began to sink below the horizon, setting the sky ablaze with beautiful colors. For Atlas, the time passed slower then the others. His thoughts constantly occupied by the information regarding his father, and the gnawing desire to reach Aer as quickly as possible to seek him out... - - - "Wow, look at these flowers!" exclaims Nero, looking around them. Indeed, the plains were covered with flowers, upon flowers, upon flowers. The beautiful bloomage was of all colors of the rainbow. A strong gust of wind caused them to sway, rocking back and forth in a motion not dissimilar to the rolling blue sea. A shower of pedals floated skywards upon the wind in an elegant dance of beautiful colors before slowly descending and bringing with them scent that brought to mind all the comfort of a lazy summers day within a dusky glade. "They smell so good..." "Indeed," agrees Nizel, producing a piece of linen to cover his nose and mouth. "I caution you against enjoying their scent too much. These flowers are known as 'Laeti Visus' to the people of Unda." "Laeti Visus," repeats Kale. The elvish was completely lost on the other three. "Laeti Visus...'Joyful Sight'...?" Nizel nods in the affirmative. "What kind of name for a flower is that?" "In some, it simply induces a relaxed state. It can be used to 'recall' memories of a more relaxed time. But in others like myself, it can induce complete paralysis of the body, sickness and even death." Atlas actually laughs. "So, if you begin to slump in you saddle I should reach for you?" speaks Atlas, causing Nizel to laugh as well. "It was just poor luck that we arrived during their bloom. However, this will give us an opportunity for enjoyment if you should wish it. The people of Unda hold a grand celebration each year during their bloom. Make offerings to the temple and their goddess for the blessing." "Blessing?" "Yes. It seems the flower is used by healers in various ways, such as easing pain or preventing a wound from turning rancid. Of course, it's also dried and uses for decoration or turned into a powder and used to promote a..." Nizel looked cautiously at Nero, attempting to choose his words wisely in front of the boy. "...a healthy night life." Illia and Atlas chuckled. "What's that mean?" questions Nero. "A healthy night life? I don't understand." "I'll...tell you when you're older," replies Atlas, while patting the boy thief on the head. "Quite the medicinal flower," comments Kale. "It's no wonder they celebrate it's bloom every year." "Yes, it's a VERY remarkable flower," agrees Nizel. "But it all depends on just how it's prepared for use. I would suggest that we visit the local apothecary and acquire some before we begin our crossing. It's a useful flower." "Hey, Nizel?" calls Nero in question. "If it's so useful, how come it's not grown anywhere else?" "An excellent question, Nero. I've been told that it refuses to take root in any other climate or any other soil. The people of Unda conclude it is the will of their goddess that it grow only upon the Vulpus plains." "Or it's simply not being correctly cultivated," reasons Kale. "Blindly following some faith can only lead to disaster." "Very true, Kale," agrees Illia. "But one should always balance knowledge and faith in equal parts. There should be no choice between the two, everyone should have both." "Well said," speak Nizel and Atlas the same time. "That's confusing to remember," calls Nero, making them all laugh in response... - - - Unda was a beautiful, bright city totally lacking the dull grey color of Caliga and oppressive feeling. The streets were filled with people, all dressed in brightly colored clothes and wearing smiles as they celebrated the bloom of their goddess' flower. The streets were lined with vendors, all peddling delicious looking treats and confections, as well as some brightly colored clothing items. It was obvious that their clothes were dyed to resemble the blooming flowers themselves. Just being surrounded by that joy was enough to bring smiles to faces of all of them. "It reminds me of the harvest celebrations in Solis," speaks Atlas, after turning Ezma over to a stable hand. Before Nero could even run off to join the festivities Atlas caught him by the back of his traveling cloak. "Stay close, Nero. You'll get lost." "I'll be alright, Prince," replies Nero. "I just want to look around." Atlas sighs heavily and produces a few silver coins from a pouch on his leather belt before handing them to the boy. "Thanks, Prince!" Nero runs off into the crowd and sighs again. "Is that wise?" asks Kale. "Oh, what kind of trouble could he get in?" questions Atlas. "Anyway, it's important from him to be a child and enjoy himself while he can. There'll be plenty of time for him to be an adult later." "Not that." Kale adjusts his spectacles. "I mean, getting so attached to the boy. You've grown rather fond of him, am I correct?" Atlas nods firmly, crossing his arms and glancing over Kale. "I suppose he's grown on me." Atlas turns from Kale to face Illia, who had just handed her horse over to another stable hand. "Illia, I'm going to get the supplies we'll need for the crossing..." - - - They gathered at the local tavern, which seemed to be just as a lively as the rest of the town. It was decorated in bright colors, and a large fireplace occupied one wall. The flames bathed the tavern in their soft orange glow, warding off the slight chill outside. People laughed and drank around them the same as Nero. The boy thief was very much enjoying a meal that wasn't cooked by himself. "What is this?" asks Kale, looking at the strange brew brought to their table by the bar-maid. "A brew local to Unda," replies Nizel. "It's made from the flowers." "Interesting." He raised his flagon and took a drink. Kale was pleasantly surprised, not only with the rich, hearty taste but the alluring scent. "That is absolutely delicious, Nizel." Kale looks back sharply at a hand suddenly placed upon his shoulder. "Why so jumpy, Kale?" questions Atlas, smiling from under the hood of his thin, grey traveling cloak. Atlas passes Nero, ruffling the boy thief's dark hair before taking a seat beside Illia and grabbing a flagon from the table. "I've got the supplies...and some new clothes, as well. I had to guess as to what size you wear, Nero." The boy thief nods, a smile appearing on his face and a muffled 'thanks' sounding from him. "Acting like a father already," comments Nizel. "How very noble of you, Atlas." Atlas chuckles and sips from the flagon. "Next you'll be shopping for Miss Illia." "Really?" Atlas looks over at the amazon with a smile on his face. "I think I would enjoy that, actually." "I don't require helping selecting clothes for myself," replies Illia. "That's too bad." "Maybe some other time," teases Illia, causing Atlas to smile wider. Hearing uproarious laughter from across the crowded tavern, all heads turn in it's direction to a thin man in black clothes somewhat similar to the kind Atlas was currently wearing. "What a loud man..." "It is a bit annoying," agrees Kale, adjusting his spectacles. "Hmph. He reminds me of Fox." A laugh sounds from Atlas and Kale glares at him in response. "He was an insufferable man, Atlas. Always doing his best to irritate me." "You disliked Fox because he accidentally broke your glasses, Kale. That's all there was to it." Kale huffs in response and raises his flagon. Again the laughter sounded from across the room. "At any rate, I have something I need to do. Excuse me." Atlas weaved a path through the crowd towards the door. He steps out of the tavern into the cool night and sighs a bit. Atlas, who had spent most of his life being watched, spent his life dodging guards and trouble had developed a bit of a sense for it. Not that Atlas complained. It was the life he made for himself, and one he was rather proud of. A tingling between his shoulders caused him to roll them in irritation before slowly looking around. Aside from the people of Unda coming and going from different shops and taverns, who were unconcerned with his presence, things seemed rather ordinary. Still, the feeling persisted and he slowly glanced around yet again. "Hm?" A figure, leaning against the front of a shop drew his attention. The woman wore a black hood not at all dissimilar from his own. Atlas was unable to make out the details of her face or little else except for the face that she was looking directly at him. In the silvery light of the moon, Atlas vaguely recognized her fingers moving this way and that, a gold coin dancing across the tops of her knuckles. In that moment, Atlas felt as though he had been dashed with a bucket of cold water. His feet carry him in that direction at a slow pace, and then when the women turns and disappears down an alley, at a full sprint. "Stop!!" roars Atlas, causing every head within ear-shot to turn in his direction. It was also enough to pull a small crowd from out of the tavern. Nizel and Illia were the first to break free of the group, chasing after the swift thief. Atlas turned down an alley and they followed several moments later, finding it empty. "There!" exclaims Illia, pointing straight up at Atlas moments before he disappears across the roof-top. "This way, Nizel!" Neither had ever had cause to chase the thief, but realized what a disadvantage they were at whilst he took to the roof-tops. It was without a doubt the reason he had never been captured by the guards. Illia and Nizel ran, as fast as their feet would carry them down the mainstreet before ducking between alley's in an attempt to follow him. Atlas was moved far less constricted as he followed the woman across roof-tops, thin beams and even a rope stretched taunt between two building as a clothes line. The woman moved as sure-footed as Atlas, not a single pause in her step. Atlas wouldn't let her out-run him, just as Illia and Nizel wouldn't allow him to out-run them. They followed at street-level, eyes turned towards the roof-tops now and again. The pair only caught glances of him now and again, but it was enough to guide them in the right direction as they attempted to keep pace. The woman leapt a gap between buildings and Atlas saw his chance. On the flat roof, he quickly turned and leapt the gap as well. He planted one foot firmly on the edge before bounding to the next and tackling the woman broad-side. The two hit the ground and Atlas pins her face down with ease, yanking her hood off. "You sure haven't lost a step," pants the dark haired woman. She glances back at him and presses her firm behind against his manhood. "It's good to see you again, Atlas." "Ella," comments Atlas, breathing deeply. "You still like you play hard to get, I see." She pursed her lips and made a kissing sound. Atlas shook his head in response, making sure to keep her pinned. "As much as I just love this position, do you think you could let me up now, Atlas?" "Not until you answer my questions, Ella." Hearing running foosteps behind him, Atlas glanced in that direction moments before he was kicked in the chest. He rolled to his right and dropped straight down off the roof. His instincts drove him to grab something, anything to stop his fall but he was unable. He impacted an awning in the middle of his stomach and was thrown back. He caught another awning in the middle of his back and then impacted the ground on his side. Atlas cried out in pain, turning and holding tight to his shoulder. "Atlas!" exclaimed Illia, rounding the corner with Nizel. "We need to get him to a healer," speaks Nizel, kneeling beside the injured thief. "Ella!" shouts Atlas. "Get down here, now!" Both of them looked up at a pair of figures standing on the edge of the building. "I'll meet you in Aer, Atlas," replies Ella. She made a kissing motion and then turned, disappearing over the roof-top. Kale and Nero finally appeared. Kale leaned over, placing his hands on his knees and panting heavily. His face was flush and his brown hair disheveled as he looked at them. "Help me with him," speaks Illia, as Atlas' vision began to swim... - - - They waited in silence, the tension thick in the air. Nero paced back and forth restlessly, he was more nervous they he could ever recall being. After a wait that seemed like an eternity finally the healer appeared. "He's resting," speaks the man. "How's his shoulder?" asks Illia, approaching. "There's no breaks or dislocations. He's lucky. If he hadn't had those awnings to break his fall, he'd have died at that height. What on earth was he doing on the roof this time of the night anyway?" "Enjoying the view," replies Illia curtly. The amazon nearly shoves him out of the way as she enters the room behind the healer. Moonlight streamed in through the window, bathing the bed and it's occupant in it's silvery glow. Atlas was asleep, naked except for a folded linen cloth across his hips that covered his manhood. Illia approached the peacefully sleeping thief, making note of the dark bruising on his taunt stomach and shoulder. She pulled a chair close to the bed and sat down in it, capturing his hand gently so as not to wake him. She did notice that the wound on his opposite shoulder had healed the same as the one on his rib-cage. Both were nothing but puckered scars against his skin now. Illia reached up and brushed some of his blond hair from his closed eyes, gently stroking his temple a moment later. Illia stopped and then sighed softly. 'When did I fall for him exactly?' Illia questions herself. 'A thief...an outsider.' A small smile appears on her lips as she gently squeezes Atlas' hand. That was enough to bring Atlas around. His amber eyes opened and he looked around for a moment before looking solely at Illia. A wry smile split his sleepy face as their eyes met. "Here I thought I was just having a good dream," teases Atlas. "Not a dream," replies Illia. "How are you feeling?" "Stiff...but I think I'll live. You?" "Had better nights, Atlas." The two shared a bit of a chuckle. "Everyone is gathered in the other room. Do you feel up to seeing them?" Atlas nodded and attempted to sit up when Illia stopped him, pressing firmly to his injured shoulder. "Stay still," Illia spoke firmly, as though dealing with an amazon male in her village. In no mood to disagree, he obeyed and kept still as she stood and approached the door. Nero was the first one in the moment it opened and he quickly approached Atlas. "Are you alright?" blurts Nero in question. Atlas chuckled and reached over, patting him on the head as though he were consoling a small child. "Never better, Nero. I'll be up and about in no time, don't you worry." "Then you'll teach me what you know, right?" Atlas laughed. "Yes. Then I'll teach you what I know." Nizel and Kale approached. A huge grin split Nizel's face and Atlas sighed. "Oh...don't say it, Nizel." "Oh?" questions Nizel. "Was there ice up there as well, Atlas?" Nizel and Kale began laughing loudly, paying no need to the glare from Illia. "There WAS ice on that roof-top in Solis, Nizel. Not that you would know, watching me from the streets like you were. I'm just lucky I landed in a snow-drift rather then on the cobble-stone." "You're lucky it wasn't more embarrassing then it was." "True enough, I suppose." The healer enters a moment later, shuffling everyone towards the door. Illia was the only one who remained, threatening him by gripping the hilt of her sword. When the room is clear the healer approaches the amazon and hands her a small package. "Brew this and make sure that he drinks two cups each night," the healer tells her. "It'll reduce the swelling and repair the muscles properly. The rest is in the satchel in the other room. There's enough for a fortnight. Until then, make certain he doesn't stress his shoulder. Nothing too demanding and certainly no climbing." Illia nodded, taking the package from him. "Can I leave now?" asks Atlas. "And perhaps get dressed?" The healer looks at Atlas and then Illia. "I'll help him dress," Illia tells the man. "Leave." The healer does just that, closing the door behind him. Atlas grits his teeth and groans as he attempts to lean up. Illia helps him with that and he throws his feet over the edge of the bed. "So, that woman..." Atlas sighs heavily. He knew that this conversation was unavoidable and fast approaching. "That was Ella?" "Yes. My clothes, please." Illia retrieves the neatly folded pile of clothes and hands them to Atlas before turning her back. "Thank you." The thief stands and begins to dress, careful to avoid bending too far over as he pulled his trousers on. "She didn't seem like much. A bit too skinny if you ask me...and short." Atlas actually laughed and it irritated her immensely. "It's not funny. She nearly killed you, Atlas!" A pair of arms slowly close around her and she looks back at the thief. "I only have my eyes set on one woman right now, Illia. One incredible woman who's skill only seems to be surpassed by her intelligence." Illia reaches up and captures one of Atlas' hands. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Atlas. In fact, you should get punished for grabbing me without my permission." "It would be more then worth it." Illia reluctantly pulls free of his arms and looks back at him. "Just...finish getting dressed. We're going to be leaving soon." "Already?" "I thought it would be best. If anyone finds out that you're the Prince of Thieves and you're injured...they'll be more eager to try and claim the bounty that you have on your head." "What about you?" Illia smiles and pats the sword at her hip. "If any of them believe that they're man enough...then let them try." Atlas laughs and then grunts in pain as he pulls on his hooded vest. "Atlas?" "Unh...my back." Illia couldn't help stop herself from laughing, and Atlas joined her even though he was in pain. "Listen to me. I sound like an old man." He grabs his belt and quickly buckles it around his waist. Atlas checks the pouches on his belt once and then twice. He had to be absolutely sure that all of his things were still there and when it was confirmed he retrieved his boots and sat down on the edge of the bed to pull them on. It never was trouble before but now that he couldn't double-over without pain Atlas was finding it rather difficult. "Hurry up, OLD MAN," teases Illia. "We haven't got time for you to shuffle around." Atlas finished the first few buckles but couldn't lean further without hurting his stomach or back. "I...I hate to ask this, but..." Illia sighs and looks at the door then Atlas. "If you tell anyone about this I WILL kill you, Atlas." The thief holds both hands up in a gesture of surrender and Illia kneels, finishing the buckles on his boots as quickly as possible. "There." Atlas manages to stand and then surprises her with a quick kiss. "Thank you, Illia. I'd never have managed that without you." "Just...keep it between us." Atlas flashes a wry smile, blond hair dropping into his eyes as he did so. "We seem to be keeping quite a few secrets lately," jokes Atlas. He motions to the door. "After you, Miss Illia..." The Prince of Thieves Ch. 10 Atlas grunted as he rotated his shoulder this way and that. Even a slight exertion caused a twinge of pain. "Enough, Atlas," calls Illia, glancing sidelong at the thief. Atlas sighs shifting in the saddle and causing Ezma to snort. "See?" "I know, I know," replies Atlas, as he pats Ezma's thick neck with his uninjured arm. "Just bear with me, Ezma. It's been a long day." They had left behind Unda early in the morning and now the terrain was beginning to change. Gone were the vibrant flowers and green plains, replaced with cracked earth and thick brown weeds. Shrubbery and the occasional tree now surrounded them. As they left behind the Vulpus Plains and grew closer to the desert, the temperature began to rise. Thankfully, they had decided to forgo their winter clothes in favor of lighter clothes for desert travel. A move that now proved to be a smart one. "We're going to be using a different route and cut straight through the desert, rather then follow the 'safe' route used by normal travelers," Nizel tells them. "For what reason?" asks Kale. "Well, Kale, 'safe' does not necessarily mean 'short'. Rather then spend one month on the safest route we're going to cut through the old ruins in the middle of the desert and make it in a fortnight. There should be a small camp up here used by the people who transport goods through the desert." "You mean smugglers," speaks Illia, following behind Nizel on the rocky path. "Would it be wise to cast ourselves in with their lot? Especially considering that Atlas is injured." Nizel offered a shrug in response. "I've worked with these men before. Atlas and Kale are also acquainted with them." The two men exchange glances and Atlas smiles from under his thin, off-grey traveling cloak. "Indeed. Your good friend, Fox." Kale groans while Atlas laughs. As they drew closer and closer, they were able to hear someone shouting orders. It was a voice familiar to Kale, Nizel and Atlas but completely foreign to the others. Atlas surprised everyone by loosing a shrill whistle that halted the shouting immediately. Through the shrubbery and weeds a man with red hair and flushed cheeks appeared with a naked sword in hand. His eyes grew large and a smile formed on his face when he noticed Atlas. "Well, I'll be damned!" exclaims the man. "If it isn't Prince himself!" Atlas dismounted and approached the man who roughly grasped Atlas' offered hand and shook it violently. "Damn, it's good to see you!" "You, too, Fox," replies Atlas. "And if it isn't Kale and Nizel! Aye, it's a regular reunion!" Fox looks past them and smiles. "You've got yourself a straggler, as well." Atlas followed his line of sight with the others to a white figure moving in and around the shrubbery and weeds of the desert. "Aye, you always did have a way with the animals, Prince. Too bad it doesn't extend to women!" The two laugh loudly and Kale rubs his temples. "Oh? And who is this?" "My name is Illia," replies Illia. "A friend of the Prince?" "She saved my life," Atlas tells Fox. "And THAT--" Atlas motions to Nero. "--is Nero. He wants to learn what I know." Fox laughs loudly and nods. "Aye! And you couldn't ask for a better teacher, lad! Come! I assume you're traveling to Aer, no?" Atlas nods and Fox sheathes his sword, motioning in the direction he had come from. "Then, let us be on our way! Day's wasting!" They go in that direction, Fox leading Ezma while Atlas stays behind, watching the wolf slowly approaching. It disappears from his sight for several moments before appearing at the edge of the weeds, peering up at the thief. "Well, come along, then," Atlas encourages. "If you're going to follow us, might as well stay close, wolf." The she-wolf follows close on his heels as he starts in the direction with the others. He could hear Fox yelling already. "Stop screwing around!" demands Fox. "Load those damn crates!" Atlas reaches them just in time to see Fox plant his boot into the behind of another man. "I promise, one of these days you boys are going to push me too far, and...!" While Fox lectures the men loading the crates, Atlas approaches Nero who watches them with a curious expression. He grunts as he kneels down next to the boy. "Nero, here. Take this." From his boot he produces a dagger and holds it out to the boy. "Prince?" asks Nero. "I...well, Ella gave this to me when I started learning from her. Since you're learning from me, I'll give it to you now. If ever you decide to take on an apprentice, you can give it to him or her." Nero takes the dagger with round eyes and looks the weapon over. "This is not a toy, Nero. It is a weapon and I don't want you to use it until you're older, understand?" "I understand, Prince." Nero looks past Atlas at the large she-wolf and then up at Atlas again. "Is she coming with us?" Atlas looks over and nods, patting the she-wolf on the head. A soft growl emerged from the animal as he scratched behind her ears. "Well, we should name her, huh?" "A name...hmm." Atlas smiled. "Maua." Nero blinks in confusion. It was a reaction that he anticipated. After all, the boy thief didn't understand that language. "It's Maeror. It means 'Flower'." Nero steps close and scratches the she-wolf behind her ears. Both look over at the approach of Illia, who pats the she-wolf on the head as well. "Are we taking the wolf with us?" asks Illia. "Maua," corrects Nero, causing Illia to arch a brow. "It's her name." "Well, if you've named her then I suppose she'll be coming along, then. Come, Maua." The she-wolf's amber gaze flicks to Atlas who stands with a soft grunt and follows Illia. Maua follows at the thief's side to the smuggler's cart. It was clear that Maua would be riding in the cart rather then walking with them. "Up." The she-wolf leaps up into the cart and Illia then looks at Nero. "You, too." "Huh? But--" "You'll be safer in the cart," speaks Nizel, approaching as well. The guide pats the she-wolf on the head without giving it much thought. "Kale and I will ride in front of the caravan. Illia, I'd like for you and Atlas to bring up the rear just in case." The amazon nods and Nero grumbles, climbing into the cart with Maua. "Keep him safe, Maua," Atlas tells the she-wolf, not underestimating her intelligence. Maua growls softly and lays down beside him, resting her large head on her giant paws. Kale shoves his spectacles up his nose and approaches the cart, only to step back when Maua growls loudly in warning. Atlas laughs at the scholars unnerved look and approaches Ezma. "You simply do not have a way with animals, Kale." "Alright!" exclaims Fox. "That's the last of the cargo! Get saddled up, everyone. We're heading for Aer...!" - - - The carts creaked and rattled as they rolled over the golden sands. Gone was the intense heat that had plagued them during the day, replaced with the cool air of night in the desert. The sun slowly sank below the horizon in the distance, panting the azure sky a myriad of beautiful colors. It was a view completely different from those experienced by any of them. With the great danger of the desert also came great beauty a fact that was lost on them until this moment. Atlas brushes back his hood, turning his head to watch the setting sun. "How is your shoulder?" questions Illia. "I had no idea you cared for me so much," replies Atlas, looking over at her. Mischief dances in his amber eye and a smile splits his face. "It's a bit stiff but I'll be fine. I don't believe they'll be much chance for me to climb anything out here that isn't covered in spines, so I should be back to normal by the time we arrive in Aer." Illia nodded slowly. "And your decision?" Atlas' smile fades and he shrugs in response. "You realize that you will have to come to a decision eventually." "I've already made my decision, Illia." The amazon arches a brow in question. "I'm going to meet him. I...I need to talk to him." Illia nods slowly, attempting to understand what he must be feeling. "If you believe that is what is best for you, Atlas." Both were silent for a moment before Illia motioned towards the carts. "How do you know Fox? Was he in the Guild?" Atlas smiled broadly in response. "I met Fox when he was moving some of his cargo through Solis. That was actually only a bit before I met you, Illia. As for his involvement in the Guild, it was short but, yes, he was a full-fledged member of the Thieves Guild." "Did you found the Guild?" Atlas raises both eyebrow in surprise. "What? Am I not allowed to be curious about your past, Atlas? You speak so little about it that it's only natural." He chuckles softly in response and then releases a sigh. "Yes, Illia. Myself and two others founded the Thieves Guild together." "Who were the other two?" "One was Vergil," spat Atlas, the name leaving a foul taste in his mouth. "And the other was Ella." A wry smile appears on Atlas' face. "And after last night, you may proudly proclaim that you have met all three of the Guild's founding members." "Yes, Ella...has she always been like that?" "Ella has always had a strange way of going about things. That much hasn't changed since I last spoke with her, at least. As for my fall from the roof-tops, that was the result of that man you saw standing beside her. I was caught off-guard and I suffered the consequences." "You were nearly killed, Atlas." "I didn't mean to cause you any trouble." The two share a small laugh... - - - They had finally stopped to rest and make camp for the night. The men laughed and joked around the fire, enjoying their dinner whilst the others sat across from them in relative silence. Maua lay at Atlas's feet, the large she-wolf having eaten her fill. Nero lay on the sands beside her, using her side to rest his head rather then setting it on the sand. He, too, had gone to sleep. Maua's ears would flick this way and that occasionally, listening to some sound far off in the golden dunes of the desert. "At this rate we should arrive at Sherehe within a few days," Fox tells Atlas. "We'll unload some of our cargo there and then move on to the next trading post. We'll reach Aer within a fortnight at a hard pace." Atlas nods in understanding. "I'll need Nizel to translate when we arrive. Don't want them mistaking us for any kind of law, do we?" Fox looks at Maua for a moment. "Would you consider selling me that wolf, Prince? She'd make a fine guard dog." "Maua?" asks Atlas. "Afraid not, Fox." "I thought not. If I had an animal that fine I'd not part with it either." Fox pauses again, this time to puff on his wooden pipe. "Which leads me to my next question. How did you end up with that amazon woman, Illia?" "It's a long story." Fox stares at Atlas flatly. "Where am I going to go, Prince?" Atlas nods and then begins the whole story, sparing only a few details such as why they were heading to the Venator mountains, the paper they had found in Atlantis and the apparent treasure hidden by the Terin people. By the time Atlas finishes the story, Fox is nodding in understanding. "I always knew Vergil to be a snake, but his treachery surprises me. What about his blade?" "It's in my pack at the moment. I took it before he was put to death and I'm wondering if I should part with it or not. Call me mad but it reminds me of the times Vergil, Ella and I shared in the past." Fox adopts a serious look and pats Atlas on his uninjured shoulder. "There's nothing wrong with keeping a memento of the past. But to dwell upon the past is to lose sight of the future." Atlas nods in agreement. "When we reached Sherehe...I would recommend keeping a close eye upon Nero and Illia. All manner of goods are swapped there and I do mean ALL, Prince." "Illia can handle herself...but I'll keep an eye on Nero." Atlas looks over at the approach of Illia, carrying a silver cup filled with a steaming brew. "Unh...is that what the healer gave me?" Illia nods and hands the silver cup to the thief. A hearty scent rose from the brew and caused Atlas to smile. "Mm. Smells delicious, at least." He sips the brew and nearly spits it out a moment later. After choking it down he coughs a few times. "Smells good but..." Illia actually laughs in response. "Good medicine is always bitter," Illia teases. "You should have known that, Atlas." The thief nods and sips at the medicinal drink regardless. "These ruins we have to pass through, are they dangerous?" Fox laughs and shakes his head. "Not in the least," replies Fox, smiling. "Superstitious fools claim the ruins are cursed and avoid them like a sickness. But they're no more cursed then you or I, and FAR less dangerous then you, I'd wager." A wry smile splits Atlas's face and he nods firmly. "An understatement to say the least," teases Atlas. It earns him a stern look from Illia that doesn't bother him in the least. "Well, it's a good thing that none of us believe in curses." "Indeed. The only real danger in those ruins is the heat of the sun. Trust me. I've navigated this route more then once in my lifetime. I have a nose for danger, Prince..." - - - The cart moves ever forward, the soft creaking of the wheels the only other sound escape for the occasional snort of the oxen pulling it. Nero stares past his feet at the golden sands passing below, the boy thief rather bored without anything to do. "Nero," calls Illia. "Are you alright?" He looks up and nods. "I'm...a little bored," replies Nero. "That's all, Illia." "What about your puzzle box?" Nero blinks and then reaches over Maua to grab his satchel and produces the puzzle box. "Work on that while we travel to Sherehe. It should keep you occupied, at the least." He leans back against the side of the cart and begins moving pieces this way and that in an attempt to solve it. Illia glances side long at Atlas, who was so lost in his own thoughts he didn't even hear her calling his name until she touched his arm. Atlas looks over quickly. "Sorry, what's wrong?" questions Atlas. "Are you alright?" asks Illia. "You seem...strange. Do you feel alright, Atlas?" A wry smile splits Atlas's face and he shrugs in response. "I feel just fine, Illia. I was just thinking, that's all." "About your father," asserts Illia, in a soft voice. Atlas was silent for a few moments before nodding in the affirmative. "You shouldn't worry, Atlas, it isn't a good look on you. From what I've seen, not once have you doubted your decisions, your judgment...there's no need to start now." "Easy for you to say," counters Atlas. "I know nothing about my father, Illia. I know nothing about where he comes from...I don't even know his name. Let alone how I'm supposed to find Doran when we reach Aer." "Oh, ye of little faith," teases Illia, causing Atlas to smile broadly. "I'm sure Doran will find US when we reach Aer." "Us? What makes you think I'm going to bring you along?" "What makes YOU think you're going to be able to stop me?" Illia challenges him. "You could argue with me all day long, Atlas, but in the end I'm going to meet this man at your side...one way or another." Atlas sighs heavily in response. "Well, I should've known better then to argue with an amazon." A small smile spreads across Illia's face, mischief dancing in her emerald eyes. "And, yet, you do it regardless. Have you always chosen to fight losing battles, Atlas?" There was a sparkle of amusement in Atlas's eyes and a grin appears on his young face. "Taunting an injured man. What a cruel people the amazons are." Ezma snorted loudly and Atlas patted his thick neck with an even broader grin splitting his face as a result. "See? Even Ezma agrees." "Mind your words, Atlas. Don't think just because you're injured I won't punish you for your them." Despite that threat, a smile had appeared on the amazon's face and it caused Atlas to smile as well. "Punished? Who knew that amazons entertained themselves in such a manner as that? Well, I consider myself to be open to new things, Illia. Who knows, it might be fun." Illia laughed a bit and shook her head. "Any manner of punishment like THAT I decide to give you..." A perverse smile appeared on her face. "...I'm SURE we'll both enjoy, Atlas." The thief raises a single brow in response. "Of course, that'll have to wait until you can sit up without pain. We don't want you to strain something and set back your recovery." Atlas laughs a bit. "You make me sound like an old man." A movement in the corner of Atlas's eye draws his attention. "Hm?" In the distance were several balls of what appeared to be light. "What are those?" They weaved this way and that, moving across the golden sands towards the caravan which was called to an immediate halt by a sharp word from Fox. No one moved as they flitted around the caravan, moving around all of them before one of the orbs came to a stop in front of Nero's face. Nizel turns his mount and approaches. "What is this, Nizel?" asks Nero in a soft voice. "Desert Spirit," replies Nizel, watching as it changes from brilliant white to a dark ruby color. For several moments it floats in front of his face before fluttering over to Illia, where it's color changes once more to a crisp emerald. The amazon remains rigid in her saddle as it then it flicks over to Atlas. He leans his head back in surprise, watching as it changes from emerald to a beautifully, dark amethyst in color. It stays for only a moment before fluttering off into the distance and leaving them all surprised. "Strange," mutters Atlas. "I always imagined Spirits would be more...human like in appearance, Nizel." Nizel simply offers him a shrug in response and turns his mount away from them. Atlas glances over at Illia, who remained rigid in her saddle and appeared to be slightly pale. "Illia? Are you alright?" "Fine," replies Illia curtly. Only Atlas seemed to notice the slight tremor to her voice... - - - They made camp in the moonless night, everyone gathered around the fire the same as before to enjoy their dinner. Atlas sips quietly at the bitter brew given to him by the healer. His eyes slowly drift over to Illia, sitting just a few feet away from himself and the others gathered around the fire. He stands, stepping over Maua and Nero before approaching. "Some tea?" asks Atlas, offering the cup to her. "No thank you," replies Illia, eyeing the brew cautiously. "You said it tastes horrible...and I'll take you at your word. There's no need for both of us to suffer the horrible taste." "Why thank you," teases Atlas, sitting next to Illia with a bit of a grunt. Neither exchanges any words for a moment before Atlas sighs. "So, am I supposed to ask, or would you like to tell me first, Miss Illia?" She looks over sharply at him, emerald eyes narrowed in question. "I don't know what you mean, Atlas." He sips at the brew again and then sighs again. "You're afraid of spirits, Illia," asserts Atlas, no question in his tone. Illia glares at the man in response. "I'm not afraid of anything, Atlas." "There's nothing wrong with being afraid of something. We ALL have something we're afraid of." Illia scoffs in response. "I mean it." "Oh, really? What are YOU afraid of?" Atlas was silent. "I thought as much, Atlas. I'm not afraid of Spirits. I'm not afraid of anything." Illia stood slowly and Atlas caught her wrist. "I didn't mean to offend or insult you, Illia." "Then why bring it up, Atlas?" "Because...Illia, you want to know more and more about me and about my past but you tell me nothing about yourself. All I know about you is your name and the fact that you're a soldier, and you know how to treat wounds. I've really never cared to get to know anyone...but I want to get to know you." Atlas sighs softly. "I thought we had come to a point where you could at least show me some trust and confide in me the same as I do you." The Prince of Thieves Ch. 10 Her expression softens a bit and she turns. Illia presses a soft kiss to his forehead. "I do trust you, Atlas." "Then don't be afraid to let your guard down now and again. Especially around me." Illia nods and sits down beside Atlas, even surprising him by leaning lightly against him. Atlas turns his head and nuzzles the top of her head. In that moment, both felt closer to each other then they had ever been to anyone else, past or present... The Prince of Thieves Ch. 11 Sherehe was larger then any of them had anticipated. Fox had told him all things were traded but he had expected it to be little more then a collection of stalls and a single Inn for road weary travelers. Instead, it was a small town unto itself with what they assumed were smugglers and traders mingling in the streets. Nero and Maua watch from the back of the cart as they pass what Atlas knew was an slave auction. "Are they selling those people, Prince?" questions Nero. Atlas nods in the affirmative and Nero stares in confusion. "But that's wrong! Shouldn't we stop them?" Illia sighs heavily and shakes her head. "No, Nero," Illia tells the boy. "There are some battles in this world that cannot be won. Trying to stop that slaver will only put us in danger. Stay close here, Nero. If they believe you're alone, they may try to take you." The boy thief jumps up in the back of the cart. "Just let them try!" challenges Nero. "I'll give them a fight they'll never forget! Because I'm gonna be as good as the Prince someday!" Illia, Nizel, Fox, Atlas and even Kale all laugh at his boasting. "You've certainly got the attitude," teases Illia. "All you need now are the skills..." - - - After handing off their horses to a stable hand they separated. Nero and Maua kept close to Atlas's side as they walked the streets. They had been given something of a break from the irritating sand and instead now walked on cracked, sun baked earth. "Wow," speaks Nero. "This place seems to have everything, huh, Prince?" Atlas nods in agreement, amber eyes constantly scanning the crowd. They pass a man dressed in fine clothes and Atlas relieves him of his coin-purse with ease. The apparent noble was none the wiser as they walk away from him. "Did you see that, Nero?" asks Atlas. The boy thief looks over and Atlas produces the coin purse. "You want to learn? Picking pockets is the first step on the path. Now, I want YOU to try." "Even I can do that, Prince. Can't you teach me to do something else? How about teaching me to move like you?" "In time, Nero. Just be patient. I don't believe I could even reach above my head with left arm to teach you how to move as I do. When I heal, you have my word that I will teach you what I know. But until then, we'll work on the skills we can." Nero sighs a bit heavily and then nods in understanding. "Good. Rather then risk your life by practicing on anyone here. We'll use me instead." "How is that fair?" demands Nero. "You'll catch me every time!" Atlas empties the contents of the stolen coin-purse into his palm, counting out ten of the thirty gold coins and handing them to the boy thief. "What's this?" "Each one of those coins represents one chance you have to steal this coin purse by sundown. I've given you ten chances. I'll take a coin every time you fail to take the coin purse, understand, Nero?" "What happens if I don't steal it by sundown?" "Nothing. However if you succeed then you got all the coins in the purse as well as what I've given you. But if you lose then I keep all the gold. You can be safe and hang on to the ten gold coins I've given you to keep or you can chance trying to take the rest. This will give me an idea of just how skilled you are." "And if I don't want to do this?" "Then don't, Nero. But I won't be teaching you until I get an understanding of just where you need improvement." Nero groans in frustration and Atlas chuckles, patting him on the head. "We'll do five instead. You can keep the other five coins for yourself. Is that fair?" "I don't care about the money, Prince. It bothers me that you're stacking the odds against me." Atlas smiles softly...Nero would say it was a rather fatherly smile. "What?" "Shouldn't you be happy? You get to test your skills against mine...then you get to learn them." "Yeah! Alright!" Nero pauses for a moment and looks up at Atlas. "Is there...are there any rules, Prince?" "Well, not exactly. But there are two simple rules I adhere to personally. If you expect to learn from me then you'll have to understand and obey them. The first rule, it is very simple and you WILL obey this rule so long as you wish to work with me, Nero. Am I clear?" Nero nods quickly. "As thieves we steal from our victims...we do not kill them." "Why not?" "The guards generally get rather upset when dead bodies start turning up on the streets. It's simply too much trouble, Nero. The second rule is more based on your personal preference then anything. I, personally, prefer not to steal from the young, the elderly, the sick or the poor. There's no honor or skill involved in it." "I understand, Prince..." - - - Night had fallen across the smugglers town, bringing with it drinking and laughter from the taverns and inns for those who remained through the night. Occupying a small table near the corner of the tavern was Kale, Fox, Nero and Atlas all enjoying the music and singing of what they assumed to be songs sang through-out Aer as none were familiar with them. "How does your shoulder feel?" questions Kale, watching as he finishes the last of his tea. "I imagine you must be feeling good if you're giving lessons." Atlas smirks and sets the cup down. "If I continue to drink this awful tea it should be better by the time we reach Aer," replies Atlas. A grin splits his face, stretching from ear to ear as he stares at the two of them. "Sitting with you two reminds me of Solis." Fox raises his flagon and drinks deeply. "Ah! Aye, just like Solis," agrees Fox. "And I have something that may make it seem even more like that." Fox produces from the satchel at his hip a deck of playing cards. "Who's up for a game? It'll give me a chance to win some of my gold back from you, Prince." Both Kale and Atlas nod, looking rather amused. "That's what you said the last time," teases Kale, adjusting his spectacles. "If I recall correctly, Atlas took all of your gold and you had to barter your way back to Aer, Fox." "They made him walk the whole way!" taunts Atlas, both himself, Kale and Nero breaking out into laughter moments later. "It was one long walk," adds Fox, dealing the cards while they all continue to laugh. Fox pauses when he comes to Nero. "How about it, lad? Are you going to play with us?" "No, he's not," Atlas speaks quickly. "I know how to play, Prince," counters Nero. That was all Fox needed to hear to get the game started. Though the game started out as just them, after several hands Kale and Nero had both dropped out and other tavern patrons took their place, plying their luck against Fox and Atlas' skill. It wasn't long after that before even Fox stepped back to watch Atlas play against another man. "Impressive!" applauds the man, watching as Atlas takes the last bit of his coin. He dumps all his winnings into Nero's satchel, handing it to the boy standing by his side. He picks up a beautiful diamond ring from the wooden table, holding it up to examine the gem and silvery metal for any flaws or damage in the dim firelight. "I guess your luck beats mine...or was it something else?" Atlas laughs heartily, a grin splitting his face. "Well, those are some bold words," remarks Atlas. "You kept trying to cheat the whole game and I never said a single word to anyone." The man stands rather abruptly, toppling the wooden chair he was occupying. "How dare you call me a cheater!" Illia finally makes an appearance, suddenly stepping from around him, the tip of her sword pointed towards his throat. "Walk away," Illia warns the man. "While I'm still willing to let you." The man curses and backs down, leaving the tavern with a few threats shouted after him. When the door closes behind him, Illia sheathes her blade and Atlas releases the hilt of his dagger, smiling at her. "I see you've been working hard, Atlas," teases Illia. "But of course," insists Atlas, grinning. "I won you something, Illia." He tosses the diamond ring to the amazon. She snatches it from the air and looks it over. "Not sure if it'll fit...then again, the man I won it from wasn't wearing it." Illia sighs softly and then slips it onto a finger. "Guess it does." "Thank you, Atlas." He scratches his chin, staring at her intently. "What?" "Nothing at all." With the situation resolved, Atlas places a few coppers on the table and stands. He takes Nero's satchel and leaves the tavern, following after Illia. Nero follows as well, Maua on the heels of the boy thief. The amazon looks at the swollen satchel with an amused expression. "Exactly how much did you win?" "Enough to live on for quite a while." Illia eyes him suspiciously. "What? I can't win at gambling if I'm not cheating?" "Sounds like you feel guilty." "Guilty? Not at all. I'd only feel guilty if I let them walk away with their coin." Illia reaches up and pinches the bridge of her nose, a smile appearing on her face. Nero grins from ear to ear, walking between the two. "Well, don't act so excited, Illia." "Cheating at cards? You're going to end up run through if you get caught, Atlas." "I thank you for your confidence in me, Miss Illia," teases Atlas. "I had the whole situation completely under control." "It seemed like it," Illia taunts the man. Nero chuckles a bit and Atlas ruffles his dark hair. "It's this one you should worry about. Twice I had to distract everyone playing so it wasn't obvious that he was cheating." Nero's cheeks burn hot with embarrassment and Atlas laughs. "A little more time, and he'll be even better then ME." The boy thief beams brightly at the praise, causing Atlas to laugh. "Don't encourage his cheating, Atlas..." - - - They rode out of Sherehe the next morning, coin purses all the heavier for having stopped. "Hey, Nizel?" calls Nero in question. "Where do you come from? I mean, you were born here in the desert, right?" The man chuckles a bit and nods. "I come from a small village called Invidia," Nizel tells him. "It's a few days travel north of Aer. In fact, we'll pass through it on our way to the Venator mountains. I'll introduce you all to my family. They are all eager to meet you, Prince." "Really?" asks Atlas. "Eager to meet a thief wanted far and wide across the land?" A grin appears on his hooded face. "Nizel, you DID tell them what I do to make my coin, didn't you?" "I...might have neglected to mention that." "They're certainly in for a surprise," remarks Illia, smiling as well. "My thoughts exactly!" exclaims Atlas, laughing heartily. After a moment he sighs and looks at Nizel. "Nizel, if you believe it's best that we just pass straight through or I keep my mouth closed, then--" "No!" interrupt Nizel quickly. "I mean, no. When we first met you told me never to be ashamed of who I am, Prince. I won't ask that you pretend to be someone else in the presence of my family...I CAN'T ask that of you as a friend." The guide sighs heavily. "Having only seen eighteen years you were wiser then me." "Eighteen years?" questions Illia. "How old are you, Atlas?" Atlas responds by turning his head up in thought. "You have to think about it...?" "I'll have seen...twenty years on the night of Winter Solstice." "You were born on the Winter Solstice?" "I don't know, actually." Illia's brow creases in confusion. "I don't know exactly when I was born, I mean. As you know, I grew up an orphan. Since no one knew when I was born...so, I've always used it as a marker." Atlas is silent for a moment, and speaks in a voice so that only Illia can hear. "I'll be sure to ask my father plenty of questions when we meet in Aer." Illia nods in agreement. "So, how did you meet with Nizel?" "Oh, that? Nearly the same as I met Fox. Lin and Nizel were trying to smuggle some cargo into Solis and I was there to speed the process along. Not a fortnight after that and Nizel had become a full fledged member of the Guild and good friend of mine." "You flatter me, Prince," speaks Nizel, laughing. "But enough about the that. What about you, Miss Illia? How old are you?" The glare that Atlas receives in response could have caused hell to freeze over, but was completely ineffective on the thief. "Well?" "It's rude to ask a woman her age, Atlas," Illia reminds him. He arches a single golden brow in response. "Really? Well, I AM a thief..." "Why is it rude?" questions Nero. "It's just a number, right?" Nizel, Fox, Kale and Atlas all share a laugh. "Nero, there are some things in this world that do not require an explanation," Kale tells him. "Or rather, they cannot be explained. They simply are." He scratches his head in confusion. "I'll...explain when you're older," Atlas tells him... - - - As usual, Atlas stood away from the group. Nero and Maua lay in the back of the cart, the boy thief using the side of the massive she-wolf for a comfortable pillow. Her silvery fur seems to shine in the sputtering light of the camp-fire and Atlas examines her hind-leg, the very same caught in the steel trap when first they had met. In the time since, it seems to have made a recovery. Atlas gazes at the two for a moment longer before pulling the woolen cloak Nero was using for a blanket higher up on him. With Nero sleeping comfortably, he turns his attention to the lone figure standing at the edge of the camp, atop a sand dune. Atlas approaches Illia, who doesn't notice his presence until he places a gentle hand upon her shoulder. It was something he would not have attempted weeks ago for fear of losing his hand but now seemed completely natural. She glances back at him sharply and then sighs, reaching up to cover his hand with her own, an action that was not lost on Atlas. "Look there, Atlas," Illia instructs, motioning into the darkness. "That glow." Truly, in the distance there was a gentle glow, the strongest of the light hidden behind the golden dunes of the desert. "It doesn't appear to be the glow of a fire..." "Maybe we should go have a look," speaks Atlas. "It may not seem it but it might be a group of bandits." Illia nods in agreement and then glances over her shoulder and past Atlas at the others. Atlas follows her line of sight to the others. "Should we tell them?" "They won't even notice us gone if we move quickly." "Alright, then." Atlas steps around her, pushing his way forward through the darkness and without a second thought, Illia follows. The distance between the light of the fire and the glow in the distance was not great and by no means imposing to the two figures. "Stay close, Illia. Wouldn't want to lose you in the darkness, now would we?" "You don't say," replies Illia sarcastically, and though she couldn't see it she knew it brought a smile to Atlas' face. They forged onwards, ready for whatever may lay on the other side of the golden dunes. They slowly, carefully ascended the sands and Atlas peered over the top. The glow had brightened significantly, enough that Illia saw the smile on his face as he stood straight up. "You have to see this, Illia." The amazon stands now as well, peering down at an oasis. The glow comes from a small field of beautiful flowers, their fragrant scent reaching the two even from the top of the dune. Their glow even serves to illuminate the pool of beautiful clear water in the center of the oasis. "Let's have a closer look." They descend the opposite of the dune, Illia leading the way for the them. The two reach the field of flowers, bathed in the beautiful glow. "This is amazing..." They approach the edge of the clear pool and Illia steps out onto a flat rock, hanging over the clear water. She kneels, gazing down at the sandy bottom of the clear pool. "Atlas--" There's a rush of wind beside her and a loud cry moments before Atlas dives off the edge of the rock and straight into the water in only his trousers. His slim form cuts through the water like a blade and he resurfaces in the middle of the pool of water, feet planted form on the sandy bed. At it's deepest it only reaches his upper chest. He slicks his blond hair straight back, lending him a new look. "Come on in, Illia. The water is fantastic." The dark bruises stand out against his pale skin but don't seem to bother him much as he wades over to the rock. "No, Atlas." He swims to her, having to stare up at her standing on top of the rock. "Afraid to get a little wet?" Illia glares down at the man, causing him to smile. "I'm not getting in that water." Atlas makes a face and watches as she turns in the direction they had come from. "While you're playing, I'm going to tell the others about--" A startled cry sounds from the amazon as a pair of arms close around her waist and she falls backwards. Her cry is muffled by the water and moments later she surfaces with Atlas, the sound of his laughter infuriating her. "Are you out of your mind?!" "Oh, calm down, Illia! It's funny!" She turns to face him. "Funny? Will it be funny when I drown you?!" "You have to catch me first!" Atlas paddles backwards, a grin set firmly on his face as he moves away. Illia follows quickly, weighed down by leather armor and sword in water that reaches her shoulders. The water grows shallow as they reach the bank and Illia moves quicker, finding Atlas' laughter to be more and more irritating. They break onto dry land, Illia chasing Atlas through the flowers. His laughter comes to an abrupt halt when several figures surround them, standing up from the flowers with weapons drawn and leveled at the two. Illia reaches for her sword, only to be struck across the back of the head. Atlas turns as she pitches forward, fury welling up in him. "You--" He's struck moments later, vision going dark as he pitches forward... - - - Consciousness slowly begins to return, and along with it a throbbing pain across the back of her head. Illia's eyes slowly open, staring off into the relative darkness surrounding. Through her blurry vision she registers a set of bars and blinks in confusion. Was...it a dream? Was she back in Solis? Feeling a movement from directly behind her, she flops her head to one side and peers backwards. A face, silhouetted in orange torch light and one she knows well, stares back at her. "Atlas," mumbles Illia. A grunt sounds from the man and his amber eyes open, gazing down at her. "Unh...what is it?" questions Atlas. "Ahh. My head." He reaches up, pressing a palm to the back of his head and sighing. "Where are we?" "Prison." "You don't say," replies the amazon sarcastically. Illia slowly stands, allowing Atlas to do the same. She approaches the door and shoves against it, then rams it with her shoulder before taking a step back. "Damn it. It didn't even move. I don't suppose you know how to get us out of here." She looks back at Atlas, still lacking boots, tunic and cloak. "I do...but my lock-picks are with my things." "Prince!" came a voice from through the wall. Both blink in surprise, recognizing the voice. "Prince, can you hear me?" "Fox? How...?" "We were ambushed by those women. They captured us and destroyed everything. Is Illia with you?" "I'm here," responds Illia. "How about--" "The lad is fine. The others are as well." Atlas approaches the wall, pressing a hand against it. "Prince, do you have your lock picks?" He responds with a shake of his head before remembering their position. "No. They're with tunic. Unless..." Atlas searches the waist of his trousers, running both thumbs around the waist before stopping behind him at his lower back with a large smile on his face. "I guess they didn't search me all that well." Hearing a door open he quickly moves his hands, listening with Illia as the footsteps approach their cell. The figures, two women stand before their cell. "I see you have awakened," speaks the woman on the left. "Why are we here?" questions Illia. "We've done you no wrong." The Prince of Thieves Ch. 11 "No wrong?!" demands the woman on the right. "You've--" She was silenced by the appearance of another woman. She appeared to be absolutely ancient, walking with a hunch and shuffling steps. The woman peers into the cell, eyes finding Atlas immediately. For several moments she stares at him, and he stares back. Then, it was a though she were meeting an old friend for the first time in years. A smile appears on her ancient face. "Release this man and his companions," instructs the woman. "But, Seer--" "Do not interrupt!" She falls silent, lowering her head in submission. "This man..." She motions to Atlas. "...is the one we've been waiting for...he is Filium nox." Both women look sharply at the man and the woman on the right kneels while the other opens the door. Both Illia and Atlas step out into the hall. "I think you must be confused, old woman," Atlas tells her. "This ring is--" "Immaterial." She reaches up and pulls Atlas' head down closer for her to observe. "Yes..." She turns his head left and then right, examining him closely for a moment before staring into his eyes again. "The blood of your people runs strong through your veins, Filium nox. Your golden eyes stand as homage to your noble blond-line, Terin." She releases Atlas who actually scoffs as such an idea. "Terin? I'm many things but a Terin isn't one of them. Besides...they're all dead." "According to whom?" "History, and time." "Both mean little when weighed against truth." Atlas cocks his head in confusion. "Come, please. We have much to discuss, Filium nox..." - - - They are taken from the prison and across what had once been a grand city but now sit in neglect and ruin. To Atlas, it was not at all hard to imagine at time when the streets of the city were once packed with men and women, coming and going. The sounds of laughter and chatter...or rather it felt as though he had experienced it at one time before. Those people they did see watch Atlas with an intensity that put them all on edge. Their tension only grew as they were taken to a large set of crumbling stairs, illuminated on both sides by the orange glow of flicking torches. The stairs themselves lead upwards to the front of a large stone building, most likely a temple of worship. "Halt," speaks the Seer. "Only the Terin--" "I have a name," interrupt the thief. "It's Atlas." "Yes. Only the Terin and the Priestess may enter this sanctuary." The Seer motions towards the steps. "Go. Seek the first of your trials and you may yet prove you are worthy of The Blessing." "Trials? Maybe you should start at the beginning, Seer." "You are Filium nox. You must be tested." "And if I refuse?" "Then you prove yourself unworthy and condemn yourself to death, Terin." "Can I at least have my things, then?" The Seer motions to someone standing behind them and a woman approaches, kneeling in front of Atlas and placing his and Illia's things at his feet before slowly backing away, head lowered in submission. "Why are these women kneeling and bowing?" "All Doken bow to Filium nox, to Her children. Go, Filium nox." "Atlas is injured," Illia tells the woman, retrieving her sword belt from the items in front of the thief. "How do you expect him to complete the trial when he cannot even fight?" "The Priestess will see to you injuries." Atlas quickly dresses in front of them, but gives pause in regards to the traveling cloak and tunic. Instead, he takes a moment to rummage through his traveling pack and produces his hooded vest. He pulls it on and pulls the hood up. "Atlas--" He captures her hand to give it a reassuring squeeze and smiles from under the hood. "I'll be fine, Illia," Atlas tells her. He turns to Nero and pats the boy on the head. "Nero, I'll--" The boy lunges forward, hugging him tightly around the lower-stomach. Atlas gently disengages from him to kneel and hug Nero back. "I'll be just fine, alright?" "Alright, Prince," replies Nero. "But while I'm gone...keep an eye on Illia for me. Who knows what kind of trouble she'll get into with me gone?" This earns a glare from Illia and a smile from Nero. Atlas stands and then starts up the stairs without another word. His pace is slow and he makes sure to watch his steps on the crumbling stairs that had seen more then their share of years and weather. Atlas reaches the the top, staring at a set of large doors which slowly begin to open as he approaches. Their hinges loudly protest their use and lack of oil as they open enough for him to step in and no wider. The head of the dimly illuminated room is dominated by a large black marble statue of a woman, at the base of which kneels who he assumes to be the priestess, garbed in robes of black. Beside her sits candles, as well as offerings of flowers and gold. Incense burns all around the room, their balmy scent relaxing Atlas. He approaches, booted footsteps echoing off the stone walls in the silence of the room. "Priestess," speaks Atlas, bringing her hushed praying to an immediate stop. "I--" "I know why ye have come, Filium nox," responds the Priestess. "Ye seek to complete the challenge of our forbearer." "No. I'm here because some woman believes me to be a Terin." "If she be mistaken...then why do ye bear evidence of kinship." Atlas looks at the ring on his finger and then scoffs in response. "Not the ring. Such an item is immaterial. Present ye evidence." "This is all I have." He reaches back, drawing the weapon from it's sheath at his lower-back and approaching the woman. She slowly stands, turning to face him with her face hidden by the hood of her robes. She accepts the dagger with both hands and gently, almost reverently examines the weapon for only a brief moment before returning it. "Well?" "To have presented such an item...ye have spoken with Her. This is good." "Her...? That woman from my dream?" "Not a dream. A vision. Come, Filium nox." She motions to a corridor to his left and begins walking, robes flowing behind her as she walks. "The trials away ye." Atlas follows, bootsteps off-set by the sound of her bare feet on stone. "These trials...what are they for exactly? What is the purpose?" "To prove worth, Filium nox. 'Tis one thing to claim ye are worthy of The Blessing, 'tis quite another to prove it." "Ok, what is 'The Blessing'?" "'Tis knowledge, 'tis truth. Such a thing reserved only for those with the strength of will to grasp and understand it. Only one has come to claim The Blessing as her own. She was a thief." Atlas stops in the middle of the corridor, realizing immediately that the paper that Kale translated in Atlantis was not speaking of him. "A thief?" "Indeed. But she was lacking in Terin blood. She broke in searching for riches, stumbling and stuttering her way through every trial. However, that was quite a time ago during the height of the Terin's empire, Filium nox. Come. We haven't the time to waste." Atlas begins following the woman again. "Speaking of that...you seem to know an awful lot about them. More then any of the books written on them speak of. And a lot of it seems to contradict what I've read." "Many tomes written in regards to them were done using nothing but wild conjecture and the imagination of the scholar. Of course, I use that term loosely as I dare not call such men 'scholars' so deficient are their works, so glaring are their literary mistakes!" Her voice echoes through the dimly lit hall. She takes a breath and then goes silent. "My apologies. 'Tis unseemly to raise my voice in the presence of--" "Not at all," interrupt Atlas. "But maybe you could tell me more about what I'm supposed to do for these trials." "I cannot. Only ye are allowed to enter the room, Filium nox." Moments later, they stop in front of a set of heavy, wooden doors. "Enter, and claim what is offered." Atlas steps towards the door, and then stops. "Something troubles ye?" "That old woman said you would heal my shoulder before I begin." "And I have." Atlas cocks his head in confusion. "Ye cannot deny that ye feel no pain." He rotates his shoulder, feeling not even a twinge of pain. He stretches skyward, releasing a big sigh as he does so. "The incense soothe the body and mind, allowing the spirit to follow." "So it's just temporary?" "For now. The effects will last quite a time. If you return...then we will have a healer examine ye." "...'If you return'...your confidence in me is simply overwhelming, Priestess." Atlas steps towards the door, shoves them open with a bit of a grunt and disappears behind them without another word... The Prince of Thieves Ch. 12 The door closes with an abrupt 'slam!' behind Atlas and he spares it only a single glance backwards before turning his attention to the hall in front of him. "Huh," grunts Atlas. "I guess there's no turning back for me." He proceeds down the hall cautiously, eyes flicking this way and that as he does so. In this moment he felt as nervous as when he was breaking into a nobles home. He draws near to the end, pushing another set of wooden doors open to reveal a grand library, lit by an absolutely huge fireplace. "Huh...Kale would absolutely love this place." Atlas steps inside, slowly spinning around to take in his surroundings, even as he approaches the center of the room. He stops in front of a wooden table and looks down at the ancient tomes left lying haphazardly across it's surface. "I wish I had some idea of what I'm supposed to be looking for..." Atlas begins shuffling books this way and that, looking for some kind of clue. He registers a single tap of a finger on his shoulder. "Just a moment." Again, he registers a tap and reaches up, swatting at it half-heartedly. "I said, just a moment." "Pardon me, sir," sounds a male voice from behind. Atlas turns sharply, finding a finely dressed elderly man with a cane in his left hand. "Good evening, sir." He bows his head respectfully. "The next Filium nox, I presume?" Atlas nods, meeting his amber gaze with his own. The man laughs, twirling the cane around quickly before planting it firmly against the stone floor. "Very good! Sir Lucius Ludok, at your service! I shall be your steward for the remainder of your trial. Please, feel free to direct any an all questions to me." "Alright. I'm Atlas." "A pleasure to meet you." The two shake hands, Atlas making no contact with his hand through the material of his gloves. "Ah, where are my manners? Forgive me. Would you care for a drink?" "No. I'd actually like it if you could point me in the direction I need to go to get this trail underway." Lucius nods in understanding. "Very good. Please, direct your attention over here." Lucius motions to the many, many shelves of ancient books. "Tell me, Sir Atlas, what is it that you see?" Atlas pauses for a moment. To him, 'books' would be too obvious. It is a Trial...he has to think unconventional, the same as when he is approaching a theft. It wasn't books he was looking at...it was-- "Well?" "Knowledge," ventures Atlas. "I see knowledge." There is a sparkle in Lucius' amber eye, and the old man smiles. "You and I think alike, I see. Yes. This grand collection of knowledge is the oldest of it's kind in all of existence. All the knowledge of the world is contained in the pages of these tomes. Your first trial is simple, Sir Atlas. Find the one tome among them that is solely yours." "What does that mean?" "There are those books that have existed as long as there have been those to pen them. Long enough to develop a life of their own. Your book will call to you, will demand that you take it up. To others, it will be blank. Nothing but a collection of bare pages that await writing. But to YOU, Filium nox...it will be what you need to make your incomplete self complete." "A book? Why don't we just move on to the next trial instead?" "We cannot. The book serves as a path to becoming a complete being. Without it, you will never be worthy of The Blessing." Atlas sighs a bit and then chuckles. "Well...I suppose. After all, I've come this far. I should give it a try." With that, Atlas begins walking, passing between two book shelves before disappearing from Lucius' sight. "Very good, Sir Atlas! Return when you have located your tome!" Atlas shifts his gaze, left and right across the books stacked upon each shelf. None of them 'call' to the thief, none of them stand out in his eyes. All of the knowledge in the world contained among the books before him and no need for any but what he sought. The book that was solely his, and for no one else. But how to locate such a thing? "I wonder if I'm supposed to do something special?" Atlas mutters to himself in question. "Is looking enough or...?" "Might I be of assistance, Sir Atlas?" He jumps a bit and looks back sharply at Lucius. "You have questions?" "How am I supposed to find this book?" "The spirit naturally seeks out what will make it whole. You need only listen to your instincts, and allow them to guide you where they will. You will succeed. I have faith in you, Filium nox." Atlas sighs deeply and then nods in understanding. "Let my instincts guide me, hm?" "It is more difficult for some. You are a thief, no?" Atlas nods and Lucius smiles in response. "Then, it should be easy. You have taught yourself to be completely aware of the world around you, to observe and notice the smallest of things that are completely lost to others. Trusting your instincts should come natural to you, Sir Atlas." "I use my eyes not my instincts, Lucius." Atlas scratches his chin and looks first left and then right before continuing on his way. He wanders through the library in silence. "Instinct..." The thief shakes his hooded head. "I'm a thief. I'm not a Terin, not a Filium nox." Atlas growls a bit. "Should have never gone to that damned oasis!" He angrily slams his fist against the nearest bookcase and a single book drops from the top to his feet. "Very good, Sir--" Atlas turns and seizes the man by the front of his tunic before he can stop himself. "Stop...your sneaking up on me, Lucius." He flashes an apologetic smile in response and taps his cane against the leather bound book, which Atlas retrieves a moment later and holds out in offer to the man. "I apologize for--" "What have you to apologize for? You have located your tome. A Grimoire by the looks of it, Sir Atlas." Atlas looks at the book for only a moment before opening it. Writing, in a language completely unfamiliar to him coupled with symbols unfamiliar to him adorn it's pages. "A Grimoire? I don't..." "My apologies. It is a book of magic. You have trained the Body, and the Mind but neglected the Spirit." Atlas flips through page after page of the strange writing and symbols, growing frustrated as he does so. "I speak Solarian and Maeror, but not this. How am I supposed to learn from a book written in a language I do not understand?" "You will learn in time." "Time is what I happen to be short of, Lucius." "Ah, I see. You are worried about your companions." Atlas snaps the book shut with a dull thud, amber eyes glowering under his black hood. "Do not worry, Sir Atlas. They will come to no harm so long as you complete the trials. Their fates rest with you." "Then you understand that no matter how fond of them I usually am I don't have time for word games, or riddles. So, we need to be moving on as quickly as possible to the point of each trial." Lucius nods in understanding. "Good." "Come this way, then." Atlas follows the elderly man through the library to a set of heavy wooden doors. "You have neglected the Spirit. But do not despair, for you are Filium nox. The ability to weave magic will come as naturally to you as drawing breath." "I am not a Terin, Lucius. They're gone, scattered to the winds during the Great War and without a doubt they are extinct." "As with all new magicians, you require a Familiar. A guiding spirit to help focus your magic. I will teach you to claim one as your own." Atlas sighs in disbelief, his words having had absolutely no effect on the elderly man. The doors open as they approach, and they enter a room lit only by a pair of flickering torches. A symbol, the same as the one from the Grimoire is carved upon the floor. "Stand on the symbol there." Atlas takes a breath and does as told, standing on the symbol on the edge of the strange circle. "Now what?" "You will draw forth your Familiar from this lands beasts. Recite the words as I do, 'Surge nunc, et efficiamini mei servus'." "Is that all? Well, alright..." The torches flicker wildly as Atlas begins reciting the words, the air singing with energy, filling the thief's being until he felt like he would burst from the pressure. "Don't contain the energy, you'll die! Focus it on the center! Now!" Atlas casts an arm out towards the center symbol as the energy swells, willing it in that direction with all his might. A blinding light fills the room, erasing every bit of darkness and forcing both Lucius and Atlas to shield their eyes from it. After a few moments of blinding intensity, it softens to nothing until it completely disappears. Atlas moves his hand and gazes at the great, white wolf in the center of the circle, head held high as she regards the thief. "Maua!" declares Atlas, smiling. The she-wolf approaches coming to a stop at Atlas' side. "The noble wolf," observes Lucius. "Very--" "The next trial, Lucius," interrupts Atlas. "Very well. You have your Familiar. You have your Grimoire. Proceed through the door and return when you have the Dei Oculo." "The what?" "You'll know it when you have located it." Atlas scoffs and then nods. "And...do take a torch. It's awfully dark down there, Sir Atlas. Oh!" Lucius removes the satchel hanging at his hip and tosses the leather bag to him. "For carrying your Grimoire, and the Dei Oculo." Atlas tucks the book into it, raises the strap over his head and brushes the satchel towards his lower back. "Do be careful..." Atlas takes one of the torches from the wall and approaches the wooden doors opposite the two of them, Maua following beside him the entire time. The orange light of the torch illuminates a set of stairs leading straight down into the earth. "Fantastic..." Maua growls a bit and Atlas pats her head. "It'll be alright, Maua. Come on." They descend slowly, the light of the torch illuminating their path. The air begins to cool the further they descend the ancient stone stairs until finally the ground levels out into a hallway. Atlas' boot-steps echo off the stone walls, and the 'click-clack' of Maua's black nails on the stone floor sounds a strange pattern that adds some noise to the otherwise silent and dark world they now occupy. Their long descent is accompanied by yet another long walk. The hall changes around them. The man-made walls giving way to cave stone and shortly after, the floor as well. The hall widens, slightly so at first until it expends well beyond the light of the torch. No longer is the sound of Atlas' boot-steps and Maua's nails the only thing in their world. The soft sound of water flowing rings in the distance, growing steadily louder and more thunderous as the two approach. The air grows damper, colder. It's all around them, though the crashing sounds of water sounds most thunderous in front of them. The light of the torch begins to reflect off a wall of water in their path, Maua and Atlas both come to a stop in a small puddle of flowing water. "Guess I won't be keeping my torch..." He looks at the bit of wood and then at the wall of water before tossing it through it. Over the crashing of the water, the torch strikes stone with a loud clatter nearly immediately. Atlas sighs a bit and steps forward, hand out-stretched to guide him through the waterfall. It collides with no stone and aside from the cold drenching of the water fall, there is nothing to impede their progress. Atlas' hood sheds most of the water, keeping it from his eyes as he pushes forward. For several long moments he's completely surrounded by the wall of water until at last he breaks free. A wry laugh escapes from him as he gazes around the absolutely massive cavern, strange glowing crystals illuminating the entire place. "How is all this-- Maua!" Atlas shields his face as the she-wolf shakes off, flinging droplets of water in all directions from her silvery fur. She growls softly in response to his chastising. Atlas approaches a massive crystal, the gem standing FAR taller then him and wider then he could even reach around. He taps his knuckles against it, smiling softly as it resonates in response. "I am most definitely taking a piece of this." The thief looks around for a moment before retrieving a sizeable chunk of stone from the ground and smashing it against the crystal in an attempt to chip a piece off...which causes the rock to crumble, the crystal to resonate loudly and Atlas to curse and shake his stinging hand. "That didn't work..." Feeling the touch of a nose to his fingertips, Atlas glances down at Maua, clutching a piece of brightly glowing crystal between her jaws. The thief takes it from her turning over the bit of crystal again and again between his nimble fingers. "Good girl, Maua." He tucks the crystal into the satchel moments before a fierce snarl sounds from Maua. Atlas glances down, then in the direction she's looking in. "Hide!" The she-wolf disappears back into the wall of water behind them while Atlas chooses to hide behind the massive piece of glowing crystal. The thief crouches low, peering around the crystal. Atlas narrows his eyes, watching as two figures come shuffling towards the light, crooked, notched and ruined weapons in their inhuman hands. Eyes, black as night scan their surrounding as they chatter on in growls, snarls and clicks. "What are you saying...?" Atlas murmurs softly to himself. One of the ghostly pale creatures gathers the bit of wood that was at one point his torch. "Damn." The other clicks and growls before turning and shuffling away, leaving his partner in a ragged patchwork of rusted armor to investigate. Atlas slowly draws his dagger and then taps the blade against the crystal, attracting the creatures attention. It shuffles over ever slowly, prepared to attack whatever was waiting. The moment it is within reach, Atlas moves quick. He lunges from around the crystal, capturing it's blade hand and planting the dagger firmly into it's chest twice. It pitches backwards and the thief catches it, pulling it around the crystal and lowering it's body softly to the ground. He kneels, searching over it for a moment and retrieving a second piece of glowing crystal, which joins the other in his satchel. Atlas stands and steps around the crystal. A hiss sounds to his left and he looks over at the creature, which turns and promptly flee's. The thief gives chase, only to be outrun by a silver streak of fur and fangs. Maua snarls and pounces on the creature, the two disappearing from sight a moment later. He continues running, catching up and finding Maua standing over the body. She killed it with a single bite to the back of the neck. "Good girl..." Atlas strokes the top of her head as he passes by, leaving it's body where it lay. Maua follows beside the thief, head held high as she does so. The path is a downward slope, winding this way and that before eventually leading them to a large stone bridge. Atlas hides behind a large bunch of rocks, peering around it at the occupied bridge. "Looks a bit crowded for our tastes, huh, Maua?" A soft growl sounds from the she-wolf in response. A group of the creatures occupies the middle of the bridge, gathered around a small fire burning brightly. "Hmm..." For Atlas, getting past them would be as simple as hanging over the edge of the bridge and moving hand-over-hand across it until he was to the other side. But with Maua in tow, he simply could not do it. The thief gazes at them for the longest time before looking at the crystal and smiling. He skirts the crystal, moving low to the ground and using the shadows to get as close as possible to the bridge and away from the crystal. Kneeling behind a rather large rock, Atlas produces a copper coin from one of the pouches on his belt and tosses it at the crystal. It strikes it's glowing surface, and it begins to resonate loudly. Both himself and Maua watch from the shadows as the creatures slowly begin to shuffle by. Atlas grins under his hood and moves around the rock, nearly running into one of them. It opens it's mouth moments before he plants firmly into it's throat and clamping a hand over it's mouth. He looks back sharply at the others, finding them too preoccupied with the resonating crystal then their comrade. Atlas slowly lowers it's body to the stone bridge and moves quickly but quietly away from them. The path winds this way and that, heading at a gentle downward slope. In the middle of the path, after a final turn Atlas was treated to a sight he would recall for all his days. A grand fortress stands in the distance, illuminated by the glow of the many large crystals sprouting from it's stone walls like tree's. "Wow," murmurs Atlas, gazing at the fortress in wonder. He knew in that moment why only a thief had managed to complete this trial. The fortress was no doubt absolutely filled with those creatures, and any swordsman or swordswoman would seek to enter through the gates as though they had been invited. Absolutely the wrong thing to do. A soft growl from Maua brings him back to the world and he looks down. "Wait here, Maua. I'll be back." The she-wolf whines a bit in response and he pats her on the head. "Now, now. Don't worry one bit. I wouldn't wish for these creatures to suffer Illia's wrath after killing me, so I'll be back alive." With that, Atlas begins his approach of the fortress, slipping from shadow to shadow as he does so. It is a tedious process, one that he isn't sure is entirely necessary given the apparent desertion of the fortress. If it weren't for the tingling between his shoulders that warned him such measures weren't wasted, he would not bother with them. Crouching low in a shadow, he watches the fortress from under his hood. For several moments he see's nothing new until he catches only the tiniest movement on top of the walls. With the feeling confirmed, he takes extra care in his approach until he is finally pressed up against the stone of the fortress, staring up the wall for some kind of hand hold. He can see only a single way up the sheer stone. The glowing crystals that sprout from the walls might offer some kind of path to him, if it weren't for the resonating of them at the slightest motion. Though, to his experienced eyes it was either the crystals or the gates and while neither holds much appeal, it is the lesser of the two evils that Atlas chooses. He takes several steps back and then rushes the wall, dashing up it and grasping the crystal nearest to him. With a soft grunt, Atlas pulls himself up onto it's glowing surface. The thief climbs up one more before dashing up another, the whole time the crystals ringing softly under his boots. Atlas ignores it as he climbs, moving deftly from hand-hold to hand-hold and crystal to crystal. Standing near the top with a fatal fall below he leaps a gap between the crystals and nearly immediately throws himself against what little stone separates him from the walls. He had just barely caught the movement out of the corner of his eye. One of the creatures snarls and growls above him to another. He draws his dagger from the sheath at his lower back and peers up, awaiting his discovery. For several long, long moments he stays absolutely still until he hears it depart and he releases a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. Atlas slowly peers over the edge of the stone, amber eyes shifting from left to right before he climbs over. The walls surround not even a single building, but rather a large tree of what appears to the thief's eyes as solid diamond. Atlas steps closer to the edge, peering down at it with a rather large grin. "Just a chunk of that would make me richer then that old king in Solis," Atlas muses to himself. Hearing shuffling footsteps Atlas glances left at the creature with it's blade raised to strike. He reacts as quickly as he can, turning to dodge the blade...and falling backwards. His eyes widen, and a strangled curse sounds from him as he plummets towards the ground... The Prince of Thieves Ch. 13 'Awaken, child of mine,' calls a voice. It beckons him back from beyond the veil...from beyond the darkness and peace of the grave. His eyes slowly open, unfocused and unprepared for the pale glow of the crystal that surrounds him. He feels...warmth. Warmth returning to every part of him as the cold hands of death release. 'Awaken, once more, Terin...' "Unh...guuuhh," grunts Atlas, before drawing a breath. Atlas rolls onto his stomach, pain searing through every fiber of his being. His body protests every single movement, his chest aches with every breath he takes. But his amber eyes find the tree in the distance. He must reach it...he must stand. With a loud cry he pushes himself to his knees and struggles to his feet. The pain is nearly unbearable...but it serves to bring him back to reality. To clear and focus his mind. The thief stumbles towards the tree slowly, body demanding his immediate stop to end the pain. But he cannot. He must push forward, must find the Dei Oculo...for Illia, for Nero and for everyone else. Seconds of this pain feel like centuries to his battered body...and yet he reaches the tree, only to collapse to his knees before it. Atlas numbly places a hand upon the surface of the diamond. "I need...the Dei Oculo," Atlas mumbles softly. He slumps forward against the surface, forehead touching the cool surface. "I need it..." The thief looks down at the base, finding a small hole in the diamond. He reaches down, fumbling blindly for something, anything. "Ah?" He withdraws his hand and stares at the chunk of diamond. "Heh...I got it. I...got it...Illia..." He slumps to his right and then strikes the cold ground, staring at the Dei Oculo he's tightly clutching in his right hand. Beyond it, he can see the approach of one of the creatures. It's black eyes are focusing squarely on Atlas. A weak smirk appears on his young, bruised face. "Heh...I still...win..." His vision begins to darken and he simply can't keep his eyes open any longer. 'Death will not have you, child of mine. Not this day. This...I promise...' - - - "...as...las...Atlas...!" calls a voice, somewhere in the distance. It calls to him, beckons him out of the darkness once again. It's not the same as before. It does not demand action from the thief. Warmth surrounds him, the warmth of life. Death...pain...it all feels so far away and he feels so tired. So very tired. But he cannot let himself rest as the voice continues to call. His eyes slowly open to nothing more then slits. A woman, the vision of an angel stares down at him. He manages a very weak smile for the woman. "Hey...Illia," mutters Atlas. "I got...the Dei Oculo." And with those words he once again loses consciousness again... - - - Gentle, soft humming is what brings him around from the world of dreams. Amber eyes open and scan the inside of the small room lit only by a few candles before coming to a stop on the woman sitting at his bed-side. "Is this paradise?" asks Atlas, attracting her attention. Illia looks up sharply from her book and then smiles softly. "You're awake, I see," replies Illia. "I am." With a bit of a grunt he pushes himself up and looks around again. "Where are we?" "Aer." Confusion washes over his features. "I slept for a fortnight?" "You don't remember?" Atlas responds with a shake of his head. "You woke several times during the trip and always in severe pain. The Seer told me to give you some kind of strange medicine whenever you woke. She said it would ease your pain and let you rest. Are you sure you don't remember?" Again he responds with a shake of his head. "Strange. Well, you don't seem to have trouble remembering anything else...you CAN remember everything else, right?" "I can, Illia." He throws his feet over the edge of the bed and then rolls his shoulders slowly, enjoying the feeling of them slowly untightening as he does so. Illia glances down and then smiles. "Hm?" Atlas looks down, finding himself completely naked and smiling as well. "Enjoying the view?" "Very much so, Atlas. Nizel, Nero and Kale went to get some supplies and they shouldn't be back for a while..." "Mm, then, I guess I won't need to--" The door to the room is thrown open and Atlas pulls the blanket across his lap while Illia sighs heavily in irritation. "Well, speak of the devil. Welcome home, everyone." "Atlas!" Nero drops what he's carrying and rushes over, nearly tackling him with a hug. "Omph! Heh! Good to see you again, Nero. But..." He gently disengages from the boy. "...I don't suppose you'd all give me a moment to put my clothes on, would you? I can't exactly greet you naked, can I?" Illia ushers them all out of the room and then stops in the doorway. "I'm glad that you're alright, Atlas," speaks Illia. "I thought...I might have lost you." A mischievous smile appears on his young face as a result. "You won't be rid of me that easily, Illia. You have my word." With a chuckle she closes the door and Atlas stands, finding his clothes folded neatly across the room. He dresses quickly, enjoying the feeling of being able to move freely once again. It takes him only a few minutes to finish and when he has he steps out of the room. Atlas descends the stone stairs before him and steps into a large room, the mark of the Guild is emblazoned proudly on the wall. "Well, I'll be..." "Everyone, I give you...the Prince of Thieves!" announces the familiar voice of Fox from behind. Atlas turns to find the man standing at the head of the room, with several hooded individuals and Illia, Kale, Nizel, Nero and even Maua standing inbetween the two men. "Our Guild Master has come all this way to pay us a visit." "A Guild safe-house...never thought I'd step foot inside one again, Fox." "I'm glad you're finally up and about, Prince." "Me, too." Atlas approaches Fox and greets him with a handshake. "I had no idea that you'd founded a chapter of the Guild here in Aer." Fox offers a shrug in response. "It must have slipped my mind." "Well...I'm glad. Means all of our hard work didn't go to waste." "Even a thief needs somewhere to kick his boots up and hang his hat...or hood in this case." Fox pauses for a moment. "On that note, Nero has been awfully persistent in wanting to become a member of the Guild." Atlas glances across the room at the young man and then smiles. "I thought so. We can hold the lad's initiation tomorrow if you'd like to be present for it." "I wouldn't miss it." "Glad to hear it. Now...do you want to tell the lad or should I?" Atlas glances back at him again and then shakes his head. "You tell him, Fox. I've been lying down for a while now so I'm going to stretch my legs..." - - - The young man moves fast across the roof-tops, as fast as his legs can carry him in fact. He leaps the gap between two buildings and then dashes up the wall to the next building. He's moving without a direction in mind, as fast as he can for no other reason then he can. The freedom of being able to run and climb once again and the excitement of a new place to do so drives him forward. Atlas comes to a slow stop at the edge of a building and gazes down at the crowded streets. The sun-drenched city of Aer...he had heard stories about it and so far they seemed to be true. Stalls and shops of all kinds lined the streets, selling all manner of things and the people dressed in fine clothes dyed beautiful colors. Atlas has no doubt that it would be easy to make a living here, perhaps even restore the Guild to it's glory. Regardless he turns away from the edge and then comes to a stop as he finds a man standing across from him. "Greetings, Atlas!" exclaims the man cheerfully. "Doran," replies Atlas. "Just the elf I was looking for." "Why, I'm flattered. Does this mean you've considered my proposal?" "I have...take me to my father, Doran." The elf smiles broadly and then raises a single hand. "As you wish..." He only snaps his fingers, though it echos loudly to Atlas' ears. A rush of wind assaults his ears, and it's accompanied by the feeling of weightlessness as though he's falling from a far height. The light of the world disappears and the thief widens his stance in response, trying to keep his well-honed balance which seems to have deserted him in these moments. When the world comes back, it finds Atlas kneeling on rough stone. He slowly scans his surroundings, finding himself in a rather large hall. Atlsa slowly stands and upon hearing someone approaching looks back at Doran. The elf holds a hand out towards the path in front of him, rather then the large doors behind. "After you, Doran." "As you wish." He walks forward and Atlas follows. The room opens up into a larger hall, flooded with sunlight...and men with swords. "Pay them no mind, Atlas. Those men are acquainted with your father and mean you no harm." No sooner has Doran spoken then their path is blocked my a single soldier. "Ah! Good afternoon, William." "No harm, hm?" echoes Atlas. "What do you think you're doing, Doran?" asks William. "This man is obviously a member of the Thieves Guild. He has no business here." Doran spares a glance back at Atlas and then looks back to the young man. "I don't believe that's for you to decide," replies Doran. "Please, wait here while I go fetch Jean. Play nicely while I'm gone, children." The elf walks past William and towards the other side of the room, eventually disappearing through a large set of doors. Atlas takes in William's appearance. He wears a strange piece of chest armor. The chest and shoulders are encased in steel while stiff leather armor is left to cover his stomach, flanks and lower back. A pair of steel bracers cover his forearms and knee high leather greaves cover his legs. "You're all mercenaries," observes Atlas. "I should have known. You don't dress like guards, after all." "You have a problem with mercenaries, thief?" challenges William. This attracts the attention of several men in the room, who approach to hear them better. Atlas is silent for a moment as he stares at William. "What?" "...Have we met before? You seem awfully familiar." "I make a point to avoid members of the Thieves Guild." "Do you also make a point to irritate every stranger you cross paths with?" asks Atlas irritably, finding himself in no mood to deal with the mercenary's insults. William growls a bit in response. "Your mouth is going to get you in trouble, thief." "I could say the same for you." "Then why don't we settle this like men?" "Enough, William," calls a voice from behind the young man. Atlas glances past him, finding a blond man in armor similar to William's approaching with Doran following a few steps behind him. "Attacking this man...don't you recognize your own blood?" William looks from Atlas to Jean and then back in complete confusion. "Come with me. Both of you." The two young me follow him across the room and then through the same doors that he and Doran had come through. Sunlight drenches the path before them and Atlas glances out across the city, finding the path leads to a stone platform outside of the city walls. "I'm sure you have a great many questions...and you as well, William." "You never once told me that I had a brother," replies William. "Half brother." Atlas approaches the stone railing and leans against it, peering out across the golden dunes of the desert. "I...tried to find you." "Did you? I'd have been well aware of someone searching for me, Jean," replies Atlas coolly. "If you searched, it wasn't very thorough." Jean is silent for several moments before nodding. "No. No, I could have done more. But I supposed I hoped that your mother would--" "She's dead, old man. I don't even remember her." "I see..." "She was Terin...wasn't she?" Atlas turns to look at his father and the blond man slowly nods. "That helps to explain some things. But doesn't explain why she fled from you with me in tow as an infant." "Your mother was being pursued. After your birth...I suppose she realized she could no longer live in peace. I came home to find both her and Doran missing. After all, he is...was her servant. When he returned I found that your mother had forbid him to speak about where she had hidden you...at least until you decided to speak with me..." "Oh, I feel so sorry for you, old man," Atlas remarks sarcastically. "Doesn't look to me like you suffered all that long..." The thief flicks his head in the direction of William standing a few feet away silently. "...so don't act like her disappearance or mine was a huge blow. I'll wager you didn't wait more then a few days before rolling in the sheets with another--" A swift punch stumbles the thief and causes him to land on his stomach. "You have no idea what I've been through, boy! You're too young to know anything about--" Atlas pushes himself onto all fours and then launches a kick backwards. It connects with Jean's chest and causes him to stumble backwards, air forced from his lungs under the strength from the blow. The thief is on his feet the next moment and rushes him, pinning him against one of the stone pillars supporting the dome over the roof. "What YOU'VE been through?!" explodes Atlas, forearm pressed tightly against his throat while his free hand presses against his chest. "I've been on the streets my whole life, old man! You turned your back on me!" "I'm sorry!" "You're sorry?" Atlas releases him and steps away. "After twenty years...that's all you can say?" "I wasn't there for you then, Atlas...but I can be now." "I needed you when I was a boy...I don't need you now." "Atlas--" "Forget it. This...This was a mistake. Coming here to see you was a mistake. Doran!" The thief turns away from both Jean and William. "Doran!" The doors open and the elf walks out, approaching at a slow pace. "What can I do for you, Atlas?" questions Doran. "You brought me here so you can take me back to the city." The elf smiles and raises his hand again. "Doran--" begins Jean, only for the words to fade out of existence by the same rush of wind. When things return to normal, Atlas and Doran are standing on top of a building in the city once again. "You are dissatisfied with your father," asserts Doran. "Immensely," replies Atlas curtly. "What kind of man...?" He sighs heavily. "How do you not search for your wife and child? And why did she leave?" The elf approaches and places a hand on Atlas' shoulder before offering a gentle smile. "Your mother was a strong willed woman. And when you were born, she knew that she couldn't keep you safe. So, she hid you away from the men pursuing her...thinking that it would be the best for YOU. She left everyone and everything behind for you like any mother would." Doran sighs and releases Atlas' shoulder before approaching the edge of the building. "Tell me about her, please." "Your mother...like all Terins had fair skin and golden eyes. Of course, other then their soldiers, Terins were known for their beauty as well as their intelligence...and your mother was no exception. She was a beautiful, kind, intelligent woman who at times had quite the mischievous streak in her." Atlas approaches the edge of the roof as well, and stands beside Doran. "Who was chasing her?" "The same men who are now aware of your presence." The thief looks over at him in response. "If I could find you so easily, then I have no doubt that they can as well." "What do they want?" "Your blood." "My blood? What use is something like that?" "Only a Terin can enter the city." Atlas scoffs in response. "You don't believe me? That information was given to me by your mother herself." "Regardless, I'm only half-blood and I've never been there before." "I'm aware of that fact. In this world...I would wager that only one other knows the location of the entrance to the city. And you're in luck, Atlas." He arches a brow in question. "The person you seek is here in this very city." "And this person will just...give me the information I seek?" "Of course not. In fact, this woman would normally never reveal the location to someone of mixed blood like you." "Well, then, how am I in luck?" "Because you have THIS," remarks Doran, grasping his wrist and raising his hand. "With this ring as evidence of your status...she has no right to deny you the information you seek, Atlas. Mixed blood or no." "To have that kind of information...this woman must be well over a century in age." "It is quite possible. She was ancient when I was but a boy...and that was quite some time ago." "How old are you, Doran?" questions Atlas, uncertain of just how long elves could live. Doran releases his wrist and turns on his heel to walk away. "Hey! How am I supposed to find this woman without a name?" "You won't have to. She'll find you." The thief glances back towards the street and then back in the direction of Doran to find him gone. Releasing a bit of a sigh he turns away from the street below... - - - Illia walks through the crowds of people quickly, none of them daring to impede the progress of the obviously angry amazon woman. 'Going to stretch his legs,' Illia thinks to herself. 'He thinks he can fool me? I'll show him...' She slowly comes to a stop in the middle of the crowded street and then turns, reaching out as she does so and capturing the wrist of the hooded thief in question. A smirk appears on his young face as a result. "It appears I've been caught," remarks Atlas. "So..." With his free hand he produces her coin-purse and she snatches it away irritably. "...I guess I should give you that back." "You went to see your father," asserts Illia angrily. "I did. And I met my brother as well." A grin appears on his face. "Let me say, I must favor my mother's looks a lot more then my father, heh." Her anger cools somewhat as she meets his eyes. Amber eyes that always sparkle brightly with life and promise mischief whenever he favors a smile...but are now clouded with sadness, as they had been in Caliga. "And your mother?" "Dead...or hiding somewhere. I don't know which." "Are you alright?" "Fine." He chuckles and then steps closer, peering slightly down at her with their faces only inches apart. "Were you worried about me, Miss Illia?" "I didn't think you'd have to ask that question," counters Illia. "It seems every time I let you out of my sight...something bad happens." Atlas chuckles again and then takes a step back. "Are you sure you're alright?" "Yes." He pauses for a moment. "Where are the others at?" "Back at the safe-house probably being driven mad by Nero. Ever since Fox told him that he was going to be inducted into the Guild he's be asking Nizel and Kale all kinds of questions. Why?" "I think I've found someone who can show us the location to the entrance of the Terin's city." "How...How is that possible? This person must be at least a century in age." "Even older then that according to Doran." Atlas again, considering whether or not to rely the whole of Doran's words including the warning. "Also...well, I'll tell everyone back at the safe-house." Illia nods in understanding and flicks her head back in the direction she had come from... - - - "You're being pursued?" questions Fox. "Well, that shouldn't be something you're not used to." Atlas shakes his head in response and approaches the table in the middle of the room. "These people aren't after the reward," Atlas tells them all. Fox reclines in his seat and crosses his arms. "Then what are they after?" "My blood." "Your blood," echoes Kale. "How do you know? What purpose would such a thing even serve?" "Doran told me." Illia narrows her eyes in response. "That elf told you?" asks Illia. "Wait, I'm confused," remarks Nizel. "What elf are you two talking about?" The Prince of Thieves Ch. 13 "On the Vulpus plains." "Illia--" begins Atlas, only to be cut off. "We were approached by an elf claiming to know Atlas' father. Apparently, these claims were the truth." All eyes turn to the thief who leans against the table, a heavy sigh escaping him in response. "Why do these men need your blood?" "Doran knew my mother...she was a Terin. To hear her tell it, only someone with the blood of a Terin can enter the city. They'll need me to get into the city and then..." He offers only a shrug in response. "All I know is that they frightened my mother enough to make her flee across the desert with me in tow and then hide me away." "Well...none of that matters if we have no idea how to GET to the city, Atlas," replies Kale. "That's not a problem. There's a woman here in the city who has that knowledge...all we have to do is find her." "Is that all?" Atlas smirks a bit. "Even if such a woman existed...why would she simply give us that information?" "Just a feeling..." The Prince of Thieves "I believe he is far too gone for such a thing. He seems much older then twelve seasons, wouldn't you agree?" Zestia nods."Yes, it seems that way. If you are worried about him...we are not too far from the city. And our debt to him as yet to be repaid for freeing you." Illia sighed and nodded in agrement, a small smile on her face. "I think it might be worth sticking around for a bit..." - - - The guards had doubled their patrols on the street, and every corner had been plastered with wanted posters sporting the face of young Atlas. Which he only barely had time to notice as he sprinted along some wooden scaffolding, several arrows whizzing through the air past him. "Stop him!" demanded the commander on horse back, attempting to rally every troop in the city against him. The sound of the horses hooves following behind was constant and quite discouraging. He dashed up a wall and hauling himself up to the roof-top. The Prince sprinted along a rope with ease, reaching a home closer to the edge of the city and still dodging arrows. Atlas lept a gap between houses as smoothly as a large jungle-cat and continued sprinting towards freedom...though he had no idea what to do once he was OVER the city walls, he would figure it out. He'd sent Kale ahead already and found himself hoping that the man was waiting with mounts for his arrival. Approaching closer to the city wall he lept from one roof, then again and the large gap to the stairs with ease. Taking them two at a time up to the wall he found himself surrounded by guards, plate armor and steel swords gleaming in the moonlight. They would show him no quarter it seemed. "Atlas!" called a voice from the otherside of the wall. He glanced in that direction and down at a pair of mounts...the Amazon had come to repay the favor it seemed. "Jump if you wish to live!" He turned and without hesitating, did so. A chorus of harsh twangs from the guards bow-strings echoed through the night and he felt the hot bite of an arrow in his shoulder blade, then another as it grazed his side. "Gah!" he grunted, landing in the horses saddle. He grasped the reins and spurred the freighened animal forward, away from the city. With a loud yell he tore the arrow from his flesh and tossed the shaft to the ground. His hot blood rushed down his back, and chest. It stained his tunic with that sickening sticky feeling that only blood has. The beat of their mounts hooves, and the pained grunts of Atlas were the only sounds that could be heard moments before he nearly toppled from his saddled. The combination of fatigue and blood-loss had caused him to slip into unconsciousness...