Private Tales Broken Compacts

[Órlaith]

The word was like a pill with instant relief, her breath shuddered as she felt her body unwind and a ghost of a smile stole the worriment from her face.

"Thank you." she told him, her gaze fixed to ensure he knew that she meant it before she rushed toward the door. She paused and turned to look over her shoulder at him as though she were about to speak, but she thought better of it and simply offered another small smile before turning the handle and stepping outside to rush down the steps.

She didn't know where she was going. She had no coin, no food, no transport, but she was free and as long as she was heading away from Rhagos, she had freedom. She hugged her ribs as the cold quickly latched onto her, and she silently wished she'd brought the blanket with her, but she decided not to risk returning to the ramshackle house in fear of the man changing his mind.

That screech and scrape of iron caused her to freeze and her heart to stop. Her gaze rose slowly from the path and settled like a horrorstricken deer on the man who'd stopped dead in his own tracks to stare back at her. And there was that look, the realisation of familiarity, and it slowly curled into a smile, his face quickly suffused with a coy and menacing light.

 

[Cal]

The man wore a piece of platemail over his chest, half covered by the long cloak that covered his shoulders. Upon the breastplate was painted a large tower with an eye in it's center, the looming figure somehow staring as though it could actually see.

His smile was a grim one, and from his belt he pulled an oddly spined whip.

"Well aren't I lucky. Came here looking for Cal, but here I find you instead. The minster will be pleased."​

Those were the only words of warning she got. There was no monologue, no introduction. The Witch Hunters were taught to strike, to act before the mage could ever even have a choice of lashing out with their magic. Before Orlaith could move the strange whip suddenly shot forward.

It lashed towards her legs, reaching to grab and entangle her then wrench her from her feet.

Cal of course heard the gate open, but he simply assumed it was Orlaith taking her leave. A deep sigh escaped him, his head shaking as he walked over towards the couch that the girl had made her home in just a few minutes ago. "Sorry dad, guess I just don't have it in me."

He said to himself quietly, running a hand through his hair.

 

[Órlaith]

The sight of him rooted her to the path, her senses on high alert; her eyes wide, letting in every ounce of light, every colour brighter, every sound louder and above it all her own heart trying to beat free of it's cage, pounding like it wanted to crack a rib.

Her body wanted to either run, or work to find weaponry, everything in her mind screamed at her to move but instead she remained right where she was, frozen, staring back at that sinister smile and she knew that there would be no talking her way out of this. His words sent a shudder racing across her spine, and she drew in a breath as the whip shot out and snapped around her legs.

Her adrenaline surged so fast she almost vomited, but she screamed instead as she was pulled from her feet, and her fingers dug into the ground as she tried to pull herself free.

"Cal!!!" that was his name, the man who'd let her go, who'd shown her a kindness despite what she was. Perhaps, it was asking too much to ask him for help, but now that she'd been seen walking free of his home, he might not have any other choice but to run himself.

 

[Cal]

The sound of his name being scream snapped him up from the couch in an instant.

Without a second of hesitation the young man vaulted over his furniture and ran towards the front door, one hand reaching back to quickly draw the knife on the small of his back. He rushed outside as quick as he could, though not quickly enough.

Before Cal could make it to Orlaith the Stranger who had hooked his whip into her suddenly yanked her backwards.

She would feel gravel and sand dig into her skin as the Witch Hunter pulled her back, his steps taking him into her as he dragged her into his reach. A hand parted from the handle of his weapon, his broad grin showing as he spoke.

"Oh I'm going to ma-"

"Lorinth stop!" A voice broke out, and Orlaith would feel the whip around her legs slacken slightly as the Witch Hunter looked up in shock.

 

[Órlaith]

Órlaith felt the brutish barbs bite into her legs as he pulled her back, like vicious claws they raked deeper into her flesh as he dragged her toward him, and the more she tried to crawl away, the more it hurt. More screams, more scars, more pain..more punishment for what she was.

She turned to look up at him as he grew nearer, tears spilling from her eyes as she grimaced in pain and watched as he reached for his weapon. Her eyes squeezed shut and she choked out a sob in fear. This was it, how she died, at the hands of a grinning brute.

Cal's voice caused her heart to stumble, and she looked up at him in mute plea, trying to shake the barbarous whip free of her flesh as it loosened it's grip. She could feel her legs hot and wet with blood and the searing pain was unforgiving as she moved without time to do so gingerly. She wouldn't speak, there was nothing that she could say, she could only hope that Cal could distract the hunter long enough for her to crawl out of his reach, but she wasn't likely to get far on her hands and knees.

 

[Cal]

His heart was pounding, his eyes flickered towards Orlaith's whose blood was spilling from the wounds on her legs.

The whip that had dug into her legs was familiar to him. It was an Inquisitors weapon, one designed to break the concentration of mages casting spells. Lorinth must have graduated, must have passed his final tests. His fingers tightened slightly on the knife in his hands.

"Lorinth, stop, sh-" Cal wasn't allowed to finish his sentence.

"Cal! Are you harboring this Bitch? Don't you know who she is? What she's worth? You fucking moron. She could see me promoted. See you restored!"​

Lorinth stepped forward towards Orlaith. "Stop! She's just a girl. She wants to get out, away from Rhagos. Let her."

Didn't that solve the problem? Didn't that make mages go away. They did not have to be suffered in Rhagos, they could just...go away. That would solve the problem just as easily.

"Tribunal be spared. This is why you failed out of the Tower. You're weak! Pathetic. If you won't take her in then I will. Along with you, you little rat."​

Cal felt his heart drop.

Lorinth had been one of his few friends at the Tower. He had been strong, serious, but never...never cruel. Seeing him like this, seeing the anger and disgust in his eye made his stomach drop. His fingers tightened on the knife.

Then the Inquisitor moved.

The whip in his hand drew back, the teeth pulled away from Orlaith, and the long lash of the weapon pulled back. "NO!"

Without thinking. With only a single impulse of self defense, Cal suddenly whipped his hand backward and then forward. The knife in his hand flicked through the air, turning head over heel and sliding through the air until it impaled Lorinth right in the throat.

A spurt of blood erupted from his throat, the whip dropping from his hand as he suddenly clutched at the blade. Horror and shock dawned on his face, as if he couldn't quite understand what had just happened.

Then he collapsed to the floor.

 

[Órlaith]

Órlaith flinched as the man took a threatening step toward her, and her head remained bowed in fear as she listened to the pair argue. She pulled her legs toward her as carefully as she could, her jaw clenched but unable to keep the sounds of her pained whimpers from escaping. Her fingers shook as they picked the last few barbs from her legs, each release letting more blood flow from the mangled flesh.

And then the whip was drawn back, the protest came, and Orlaith cowered and braced herself for another lash of the cruel weapon. She flinched as she heard the sickening thud of a blade as it struck, thinking for a moment she'd heard it before she'd felt it - but it hadn't hit her. The whip fell to the ground, and Órlaith's eyes opened to stare at it for a brief moment before she dared lift her eyes to the man who'd held it. She drew in a breath with a pause in her natural expression as she watched him fall, clutching at the blade in his throat, and she frowned as she heard him sputter his last breath.

The pain seemed numb for a moment, her mind too busy processing the shock of what she was seeing, and her watery gaze oh-so-slowly turned to Cal as she let out the breath she'd been holding. Words failed her, and she didn't have to wait long for the inevitable pain to rush back into her mind and she grimaced as she tried to pull herself up only to stumble toward the gate and fall again.

 

[Cal]

"Oh fuck." Cal said as he looked at the quickly dying corpse of what once had been his friend.

He felt his stomach drop. He felt his heart race in his chest. He felt...he felt...he didn't know. Panic and terror fled throughout his form as he looked at the quickly growing pool of blood that spread underneath Lorinth's fresh corpse.

"FUCK!" He swore. "Fuck fuck fuck fuck."

Cal looked up at Orlaith who was doing her best to stand, her best to get away from the scene. "Fuckity fuck fuck."

An ethereal sort of panic set into him.

A thousand impulses dashed through his veins all at once, more than a few simply urging him to just run away and forget that fact that he was even from Rhagos. His head darted from Orlaith to Lorinth, and then he saw the woman stumble and fall.

"Fuuuuuuuuck." Cal cried as he rushed over to Orlaith, moving to pick her up off the ground and seeing just how bad her injuries were.

 

[Órlaith]

The leggings she wore were saturated with blood. It pooled inside her boots and squelched as she stood and stumbled. She wouldn’t get far like this, but it wouldn’t stop her trying.

His cursing was like a dull echo in the back of her mind until he was approaching her and she lifted her arm to shield her face as though expecting to be struck. Instead she was pulled to her feet, her gaze narrowed in a wince as she tried to apply weight to her feet, and she did so only barely, a pathetic whimper forcing its way passed her lips.

She held onto him, drawing her breaths in through her teeth, her cheek against his shoulder as her eyes settled on the horror stricken face of the hunter as he bled out.

“Thank you...” she frowned, her gaze following the tails of the barbed whip now glistening with her blood, and her eyes closed for a moment’s relief.

“Thank you.” she breathed..

 

[Cal]

Cal held on to her, though whether it was he who kept her upright or the other way around he could not have said in that moment.

Panic suffused his entire being.

His heart thundered in his chest, his head was spinning with a thousand possibilities, and he could feel his throat going dry. Eyes settled on Lorinth's body, watching as he slowly but surely bled out until he was little more than a faded corpse.

Slowly Cal stepped away, the urge to run striking through him. "Let's uhh..."

He cleared his throat.

"Let's get you patched up." Cal didn't want another corpse on his hand, but more importantly...he didn't want to deal with this mess alone. He had no idea how.

 

[Órlaith]

Órlaith didn't have to be an empath to feel his panic.. His heart was beating too hard, his mind racing too fast, and despite her pain she knew she had to try and distract him, that she had to calm him before shock seeped in and rendered him useless.. "Cal.." she urged as he looked at the oozing corpse.

She'd let him help her back up the steps and into the house, moving gingerly until she was back on the sofa by the hearth, her face a few shades paler. Her magic took energy, energy she wasn't sure she had, and so she hoped that he wouldn't require them.

"Are you alright?.." she asked gently, trying carefully to kick off her blood-sodden boots.

 

[Cal]

"Aside from fucking up so colossally I'm going to have the entire Inquisition after my head?" He asked her, though there was no bite to his tone. He wasn't angry with her, wasn't even bitter, but...defeated.

Almost as if he had accepted he was already dead.

"Yeah." Cal said, utterly in denial. "I'm fine."

The Inquisition of Rhagos did not forget, they did not forgive. Eventually someone would come looking for Lorinth, and when they found his corpse she would be the first suspect they had. Terror at the very thought made him want to scream and run away, but somehow he managed to keep it together.

A Breath filled his lungs, and he slowly pulled away the cloth that surrounded Orlaith's wounds. "You'll need to hold still."

He told her, trying to focus on the task instead of what might happen to him soon.

"The teeth are designed to break in the flesh. Disrupt magics." Cal said as he gently grasped her bare thigh, looking at the wounds more closely to search for the shards.

 

[Órlaith]

Órlaith frowned at him. He should have been angry, should have blamed her, should have wanted to drag her back to Rhagos and hand her over for the trouble she'd caused simply by being here. Guilt sank like a stone in her stomach, distracting her from the pain until he told her to hold still. She did exactly the opposite. She squirmed, her fingers curling into the dusty fabric of the sofa, her head tilting back and eyes squeezing shut as she growled in protest.

"Can't say I've ever had the pleasure before now..." she seethed through gritted teeth and tried her best to breathe calmly. Tears streamed from her eyes, and they opened to stare up at the ceiling rather than look at her wounds, rather than look at him..

"Blame me. Go back to Rhagos, tell them I got away from you, tell them I murdered him. All I need are a couple of days head start and I can be long gone.." she frowned and looked back at him, her face a contortion of agony.

"I'm sorry for showing up here. You didn't have to do what you did for me.." she bit down on her lip with another groan.

 

[Cal]

As soon as Orlaith started to wriggle within his grasp Cal started to clamp down on her leg. One arm wound tightly around her thigh, his hand splaying just above the wound to make sure that she didn't move too much.

His face turned grim as she made her proposal.

Cal was disgusted at the thought. Not the thought of turning her in, but the idea that he actually found the plan appealing. The Idea that he could stop all this, that he could get away and just go back to Rhagos and restore his family by just signing her death warrant.

It would have been so easy.

It would have put him back into his 'proper' place.

But it also would have been wrong. "I can't."

Cal denied quietly. Pushing away thoughts of his father. He knew it was wrong. Knew that it would have crushed his soul into dust.

"You know I can't." Cal swallowed hard, fingers drifting down her thigh as he found the first of the broken teeth. "They'll string me up, question me, wonder why you left me alive unharmed."

His head shook.

He was fucked. "The Tower has...the Tower has their ways not just for mages."

 

[Órlaith]

Orlaith tried to busy her mind with possible solutions. She could attack him, knock him out, give him an injury to corroborate the story. She could use more unforgivable methods of persuasion by using her magic on him, which to Rhagos and it’s inhabitants was worse than cold-blooded murder. But she knew well enough the ‘ways’ that he spoke of. She’d been used for such ways, and she knew he’d condemned himself the moment he’d told her to go.

“I’m sorry…” she croaked out, his face a blur through the tears that pooled in her eyes as she looked down at him. “We can’t stay here.” Her brow knit and her throat cleared as she dragged her gaze away from him.

“My name is Órlaith… Alderman. My father is Bastian Alderman.” she bit down on her lip, too afraid to look at him. Surely it was better to get all of the panic over with at once..

 

[Cal]

"Fuck." Cal wanted to scream.

Not at her, strangely enough.

He just wanted to open his mouth and scream as loudly as physically possible. Perhaps it was the small hope that the entire building would collapse down upon him. The desire for all of this to be over with and for him to finally just be at peace.

Instead though he simply pulled out another one of the jagged teeth from Orlaith's thigh, trying his best not to bash his head against the nearest solid piece of furniture.

"I didn't..." Cal frowned. "I didn't even know he had a Daughter."

Of course he wouldn't though. Why would one of the thirteen admit to having a mage for a child? Why wouldn't he bury it, her....fuck.

Gods he was so fucked. "W-we."

He stammered, clearing his throat.

"Fuck." Cal repeated, wondering just how many times he had said that word today. "No we can't."

Bastian Alderman was powerful, one of the most powerful men in all of Rhagos. His word was practically law in the outer provinces, his control over the Crusaders almost total. Likely the only reason Orlaith didn't have an army after her was the mans desire to keep things quiet.

 

[Órlaith]

Órlaith clenched her teeth as she waited for his reaction. It wasn't as loud as she'd expected, or as angry, but she could feel it all simmering under the surface of his skin. She flinched and groaned as he pulled out another piece of metal from her thigh and she sneered bitterly at his words. "No, not many people know he has a daughter." she muttered. "It's not something he's particularly proud of, given what I am.." she swallowed and sat back, trying her best to relax her muscles and let him dislodge the last of the teeth from her legs.

If only her magic worked on herself, she could soothe herself, rid herself of the pain, make herself fall asleep, rid herself of all worry. She laughed under her breath at the thought and draped her forearm over her eyes. "He wasn't here for me, he didn't know I was here... Lorinth." she murmured woozily. "He'll no doubt have someone tracking me, though, I thought it was him but, he said he was here to see you.."

 

[Cal]

He grimaced slightly.

A part of him was hoping never to speak of that, but apparently Lorinth had spilled his name before everything started. Fingers tightened for a moment, and he looked up at her with a slight hint of guilt in his eyes.

She had laid her truth bare. He would do the same. "I trained at the Tower with him."

The Tower of the Eye, or just the Tower, for short was where all Inquisitors trained. There they were taught how to best fight against mages. Methods there were harsh, brutal, and put people often to the edge of insanity. Many people dropped out from stress, pain, or some sort of permanent injury. Though Cal himself had not left for any of those.

"I didn't graduate, but Lorinth did apparently. He was probably just here to show me." The man had been something of a friend once. Though that had apparently counted for little in the end.

For a moment Cal paused, chewing his lip.

"They'll track you down." He confirmed. "Then find Lorinths body."

At his estate. With his tracks.

This was an utter disaster. He had signed his own death warrant, ensured that he'd never regain even a scrap of his families honor. All because he couldn't follow in the steps his father had wanted. Cal took a breath. "We should leave in the morning."

Probably sooner, but Orlaith was in no shape to walk yet. He could use the night to find some horses, or perhaps Mantic's if he was lucky. The beasts were much faster than horses.

 

[Órlaith]

Órlaith's eyes opened at his admission. Her body suddenly rigid with fear as she considered for if only the briefest moment that she'd wandered into a trap. She looked at him, feeling her heart stumble in her chest, and she carefully tried to pull herself away.

It took a particular sort of person to be an Inquisitor, she was well aware of their methods, of their training and of their cruelty. She looked at him as though he'd been the one to wound her, with the fear that he may have been prepared to do worse, and she shot a glance toward the door as though considering making another run for it, but the pain in her legs quickly flushed that thought out of her mind.

"Graduate or not, you're still one of them.." she frowned. "There is no 'we', not now, I'll leave as soon as I can stand and I'll make my own way." she looked away stubbornly, her eyes glassy with tears, but she decided she wasn't done and looked back at him suddenly.

"Why?.. Why did you let me go? Why didn't you graduate? Why did you train in the first place?" she demanded with a quiver of rage in her voice.

 

[Cal]

Cal couldn't blame her for the anger, the emotion she felt.

It was something he struggled with, something he had blamed on himself. The weight of that sat on his shoulder, one of them. The other was that of his family, the obligation to his mother, to his father, to the ancestors that had given so much to bring him here fingers tightened as he took a breath.

"My family." He said quietly in answer to her question.

"I needed...I needed to regain our standing. Bring us back to what we were." He frowned. "My grandfather made an enemy of Julie De Cast."

Another of the Thirteen, the man who controlled nearly all agriculture in the Region. A man now so ancient most joked about him being half way into the grave."He ruined us, drove us I to destitution. That's why the house is..."

He gestured to the ruined estate.

"So I joined the military, then the inquisition when they asked." Cal had been a good soldier. He should have stayed there. "But I couldn't...I refused...I refused the final test of tortures."

A test where the prospective inquisitor had to "break" a mage.

"I was thrown out, shame cast on me, nearly brought up on charges of sedition." Though because of his silence that had been quietly done away with. Held over his head in case he got any ideas of talking out.

 

[Órlaith]

Her eyes never left him as he spoke, again she searched his gaze for truth, watching each of his little idiosyncrasies and letting herself slowly begin to ease.. She believed him, and it mollified her fears to hear that he'd refused to torture whatever unfortunate mage had been chosen for his test. She swallowed and nodded lightly. She understood all too well the pressure of family.

"I'm sorry.. I know much about shame.." she frowned and laughed under her breath, but there was no amusement in it. Her shoulders sagged in a sigh as she let herself settle back down with a wince "And thank you.." she frowned, looking over the wounds that covered her legs..

"And yes.. We should leave, soon." she nodded..

 

[Cal]

Cal sank back, once again temporarily sure that he was going to be turned inside out any time soon.

A hand ran through his hair, and he let out a long breath. His head lulled in something similar to a nod as she spoke ofmleaving, though in truth he was still processing what the hell he was doing. He knew that he was already doomed, already condemned in the eyes of all but the most magnanimous Inquisitor.

And even that was half a gamble.

What choice did he have except for running? What other thing could he do now? It was bad enough when he had decided to go, but now and Inquisitor of Rhagos was dead on his doorstep.

Literally. "Shit."

Cal said as he suddenly realized.

"I should hide his body, or at least bring it inside." There weren't a lot of people in this area, but the last thing they needed was someone to see a corpse. That corpse in particular.

 

[Órlaith]

Her eyes grew heavier as she watched him, seeing his troubles written on his face and she knew he was just as fucked as she was. If she was bitter enough she'd have rubbed his face in it, but she never wished her sort of life on anyone, a life lived in fear of incarceration, of pain, of death.. Perhaps if he'd graduated, she'd have felt a little less guilty for his predicament and how much worse she'd made his life.

"Probably.." she agreed in a quiet mumble, her eyes blinking heavily as she let her head fall back. Pain and blood loss was making her drowsy, and she was slowly starting to numb enough to let her muscles relax.

"I'll help you..Let me just, get my boots.." she sighed, her voice barely a whisper as she drifted into unconsciousness.

 

[Cal]

Cal was about to open his mouth in objection, but when he realized that she had already fallen asleep he snapped his jaw closed.

Shaking his head the young man pulled himself up from the floor. A hand ran through his hair as he glanced at her, and briefly he heard his father's voice in his head. It was a cruel, biting few words, but he knew exactly they would have been what the twisted fuck would have said.

Bind her. Gag her. Drag her to Rhagos and string her up before the Thirteen.

The old man had been cruel.

He would have thrown a thousand women like Orlaith at the feet of his better just for a chance at getting back what had once been in his. Disgust painted Cal's face for a moment, his head shaking as he turned away and walked towards the front door.

A few moments later he was dragging Lorinth's corpse through the foyer, muttering to himself. "Fine mess you've gotten yourself into Cal."

He grumbled.

By the time dawn struck and Orlaith was awake, Cal had spent the night gathering what he could. Stale rolls, some dried meat, and he'd managed to purchase a single Mantic with some of the silverware that had still been left in the House. All of that was packed away in the barn, and Cal himself was sprawled out on the large sofa chair opposite Orlaith.

 

[Órlaith]

There were days the dawn proceeded as if it were not ready to come, yet schedule demanded its entrance, and so the sun rose all the same. Today was one of those days, she felt like she'd been asleep for minutes and now the cold grey was doused in warm light and the birds celebrated it's arrival with jovial song that in no way matched the tangible atmosphere of their surroundings. Órlaith groaned in mild irritation as the bastards refused to shut up, and her mind honed in on the relentless tweeting until she was fully awake.

She squinted in the light as her eyes opened, her lips parting in a yawn against the back of her wrist as she sat herself up and stretched, grimacing at the pain she still felt. Had she been any normal person, she'd have been told to rest for a few days, she'd have been coddled and pitied and brought sweet breads and tea. But she wasn't any normal person, and she didn't have time for rest.

Her gaze settled on Cal as he slept in the chair, deciding to give him another minute to sleep given the day he was about to face.. Or more likely, the days, weeks...years. A ghost of a smile tugged at her lips and she cleared her throat in attempt to rouse him from his slumbering. "Cal.." she whispered huskily and rubbed at her face..

"We should get moving.." she grumbled.