...And somehow, my censored pictures ended up looking better than the originals >__>
Am I still dreaming? Severin wondered as he stared at the intruder in disbelief.
It was her--the woman who had once lingered in the darkness of the palace balcony, watching him as he rode through the city streets of Asshai. She was the apparition who had stood cloaked in the shadows; the vision which he had once attributed to an overactive imagination. An illusion woven into flesh. Often, he would question the very state of his sanity--this moment being one of those times.
She stood before him now, smelling only of blood and death, a familiar scent which he was wholly accustomed to.
“Well, well, well,” she drawled in a mocking voice as a malicious smile crossed her lips, “Look who we have here--the Emperor’s favorite general, chained up like some rabid dog. Why, you’re even uglier than I last remembered,” she remarked with a crooked grin as she gazed to the burnt side of his face, a look of satisfaction gleaming in her dark eyes.
She had known who he was, although he could not say the same about her.
“Just who the hell are you, and why have you been following me?” Severin demanded as he studied her face, one which he could not recall.
The woman scoffed at his question, voice laced with contempt, “I’m not here for you--I am here for her. The princess--where is she?”
What did she want with Aaliyah? Severin gave no response, uncertain of her motives.
Impatient with his silence, she took a step closer to the bars. “Answer me, dog, or I’ll slice you from throat to navel,” she threatened.
Severin laughed. It was an awful, hollow sound and hoarse from years of disuse. “Do you think that I have anything to fear from you?” the general asked in an ironic voice as he turned to one side, showing her the full extent of his disfigurement. With his one remaining eye, he noted the keys hanging off of her belt, no doubt taken from the guards she had killed. He needed her closer. The general presented her with an ugly smile, cruel and savage. “I’d like to see you try,” Severin taunted, “Step inside my cell, wench, and we will see.”
The look on her face hardened. “I don’t have time to be arguing with the likes of you. I will ask you once more--Where. Is. She?”
“What do you want with her?” he asked.
“I am going to save her,” she answered, irritated of having to explain herself.
Asharan. She was Asharan--he saw it now. It was in the manner of her speech, and structure of her face, partly obscured by the dim lighting. “The princess was taken a few days ago. I’m not sure to where,” Severin admitted.
The woman cursed as she turned and began to leave. “A waste of my time,” she muttered underneath her breath.
“Wait,” Severin called out as he got to his feet, “Release me and I’ll help you find her.” If Aaliyah was even alive. The torment of not knowing clawed at him from within.
At his offer, the intruder stopped in her tracks. Although she stood with her back facing toward him, he could still discern the expression on her face, doubtlessly strained as she weighed the merit of his words. “For two decades you have fought us. Why would you help her now?” she asked in a scathing tone.
“Your princess’s life is none of my concern.” Severin answered in an leveled voice. He must tell her what she would readily accept. Sometimes lies were easier believed than truths. “Let me out of this cell, and I assure you that I will gladly cut down any man who stands in the way. You cannot do it alone,” he added after sensing her hesitation. “More will come after you soon enough.”
“Give me one reason to regret this--” she warned as she went to turn the key in his lock, “If you so much as look the wrong way, I will gut you. Make one wrong move, and it will your last.”
Likewise, Severin thought. His lips curved upwards despite himself. A woman, threatening him? It was an amusing notion.
Off to the corner, Severin saw two of the guards lying across the floor, covered in their own blood. The result of her doing. Perhaps he had underestimated her. His senses heightened then, his body becoming alert of the presence behind him.
The general walked over to the bodies to pick up a fallen sword. As he knelt down, he noted that one of them was still alive, but on the verge of death. The man was breathing deeply, face twisted in pain.
“Where is the Asharan princess held?” Severin demanded as he held the blade against the guard’s neck. “Tell me, and I will let you live. Hold your silence, and I will castrate you before cutting your throat.”
“Cadeon’s room,” the man answered in a strained voice, one finger pointing towards the stairs. “Through the library... the top of the eastern tower.”
“You have my thanks,” Severin replied as he jabbed the sword through the guard’s chest. The man’s jaw slackened apart, although no sound escaped from his lips. He had died with eyes wide opened, staring directly back at the general.
Aaliyah. She was here.
Severin had desperately wanted to find her, but now as he stood before her chamber, a sense of prevailing dread crept from within. For a brief moment, the general hesitated; perturbed by what he might find. He pressed his ear against the door, listening for any voices from the other side, but only silence greeted him in return. His fingers encircled around the handle, finding it to be locked. “Step back,” he commanded.
Using all his strength, he bashed his shoulder against the door, effectively breaking the wooden latch. With it opened, they warily stepped into the room.
An unnatural serenity permeated the chamber, quiet, save for the rustling draperies. Food and drink from the night before were splayed across the table, wholly untouched.
His voice was caught in his throat, his chest heavy with grief from finding her in such a state-- hair disheveled and skin marred by faint bruising. Severin shouted her name as he placed one hand over her shoulder to wake her from slumber.
No response.
[img]http://i.imgur.com/AFgQd.jpg/img]
Cold. Her body was so cold. Was she still alive? He could not tell. She laid perfectly motionless across the bed, showing no sign of movement--no sign of life.
“Aaliyah,” he repeated her name as he turned her over, and brushed a single strand of hair from her face.
“Get your hands off of her,” the woman hissed as she shoved him away, placing herself as a barrier between them.
At their bickering, Aaliyah began to stir awake. Her eyelashes fluttered open, her pale gaze unfocused. A sultry murmur sounded in her throat as she rose, “Malik?”
She had asked for him.
How many times was she left to wake, alone and frightened? His heart tore from the thought of her wishing for him when he was not there.
“I’m here,” he answered.
At his voice, her face went alight with hope. “Is that really you?” she cried in disbelief, “What is happening?”
Before he could respond, the woman beside him spoke, “Your Highness, there is no time to explain. We must get you away from here first.”
“Who is this?” Aaliyah asked.
“Liandra,” the woman answered in a broken voice as she clasped onto Aaliyah’s hand, a tenderness which Severin had never seen from her before. “I have come for you at last. Forgive me, my lady.”
Liandra. The name held no meaning to him, but Aaliyah had seemed to recognize the woman, as she nodded in acknowledgement. At the mention of the name, her eyes had filled with joy and sorrow both, a silent understanding. With assistance, the Asharan princess rose from the bed as the woman dressed her in the articles of clothing strewn across the floor.
It was then he became aware of discourtesy for looking at her so. The general went over to the balcony, giving them what little privacy that could be allowed.
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