Private Tales The Place That Hurts The Most

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer

Everleigh Ebersol

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"When I thought I had felt everything, when nothing seemed to have a new flavor, when all colors became dull and gray... you came into my life."

Most women would have been terrified walking into that alley while a man followed right behind them. They would have gone into the tavern instead of risking being in the dark shadows of the small town on the outskirts of Vel Anir. Or maybe they wouldn't have, as thieves and highwaymen often visited this location, waiting around for a rich man to send a poor man to gather interest for a job that had to be quiet. Most women would have had more sense than to ask for trouble for cheating one of the merchants with desperate men acting as his private army.

Everleigh was more desperate than the man that followed after her. She was aware of the others, too, but it didn't matter if she got out of this with a full and heavy coin purse. She made a left, and he made a left. She felt the others stumble along from the right. She could imagine how they smirked, the glint in their eyes when they realized she was heading to a dead end. They must have thought her stupid. They must have thought her easy.

They had no idea that she was leading them into a trap. The smaller the space, the better for her to conserve her magic with only one spell to undo the group of men and their heavy, clopping boots. Couldn't Viktor the Frugal hire men who knew a thing or two about stealth? She supposed that when he had nearly fifty men under his employment, he never feared being cheated out of a card game. This town was his until the Guard began tightening their laws and protocols.

She came face to face with a wall, rats as large as her foot hopping out of the way from a bed made of hay with a forlorn and forgotten dead man rotting on top. The stench was something she was used to, having been around death far longer than any of Viktor's men blocking the only entrance and exit.

"You got somethin' belongin' to us." A momentary pang at a familiar drawl. She turned her head a little over her shoulder. "Hand it back and we won't hurt ya... too much." The man smiled, stretching out a long, thin scar from his cheek, over his lips, and ended at the curve of his chin. He coughed. The smell of the dead man was too overbearing. He brought a free hand to cover his nose, and that was when Everleigh jumped towards his face with a fist aimed against his hand, effectively breaking his nose.

She exhaled the breath she had been holding as the men behind him began to move into action. But it was too late for them. Everleigh preferred close-quarter combat because the purple mist from her parted lips didn't take long to spread amongst the men. One grabbed her throat, getting a handful of her cloak. Their strong grip weakened in seconds.

It was almost too easy, sometimes.

Alistair Krixus
 
The fall of Viktor the Frugal mini-empire did not end with a bang, but the scratching scribble from a signature by one of Vel Anir's countless bureaucrats. The signature was attached to a simple order. A decree promising a crackdown on criminal enterprises. This issue could have taken months if not years, or eventually forgotten in the maze of bureaucratic false promises. However, Viktor was unfortunate for another reason, Alistair Krixus had just finished his most recent assignment and he needed to relieve some stress.

A bunch of common brutes and thugs, they had no idea what they were walking into. A figure had been following this procession for some time and had recognized the woman leading these men along into such an obvious trap.

Most of those men were dead before they hit the ground, one or two were both lucky and smart enough to try and run. They made it two steps back towards the exit of the alley before a dark figure stepped from the shadows and silently plunged two knives into their necks instantly ending their lives.

The figure dressed in all black waited for Evie to finish the job before a bit of light revealed a soft smile.

"Evie, why am I not surprised to find you here?" Alistair asked with a sigh.

He knew his own assignment to be an official one, which meant that Evie was likely her own downtime. That begged the question, what was Evie doing in her own downtown to be the target of Viktor? Then again, she could have ended the man's whole enterprise if she so desired.

Everleigh Ebersol
 
The bodies fell, purple mist evaporating into nothing more than the breath it was supposed to be in the first place. She had no need to discard of them, thinking that when they were found, they'd be much like the forlorn body on the hay behind her. When she looked up, she saw Alistair then. Violet eyes widened as she took one step back. She hadn't noticed him, and something about that didn't sit right with her.

Who else could be following her without her knowing? Had she grown so sloppy in just a few months?

"You know me, I love looking for trouble." She eyed the glint of steel stuck in a thug's throat before meeting Alistair's gaze. Something told her that he wasn't after her, but it begged the question: how many knew of what she did, and how many didn't? "It's been awhile." Everleigh pulled down her cloak, revealing violet hair that was short and unruly as if violently cut while it was in a braid. "When was the last time we saw each other?" She knew the answer before even asking the question. "Oh, yeah, at that lame dance the Academy threw for the initiates. Did you ever get my last letter?"

Alistair Krixus
 
Evie had not lost a step in her combat, although the short hair was a bit of a surprise. It would seem her disappearance had been tough on her. Everleigh's disappearance had worried Alistair originally, but ultimately, she was just another one of his classmates fleeing the bonds of the Republic.

His glassy gray eyes looked hollowly at her, but he examined her magical aura. Her purple and toxic aura was sharper, not gaseous like a typical person might envision a poison. No, Evie was not just a poison, she was a knife dipped in poison. He even spotted some of the runes on her body. Not done by him? Rude.

"Yes, the dance...and I believe so, although I was disappointed to never receive a response. Though...you've been busy."

He had spent some time on her little assignment that she had requested, but he had never got the chance for more advanced experimentation without any response from her.

"What are you doing here, Evie?"

Alistair did consider Everleigh a friend. She was one of the few that Al reserved a softer expression for, but such mannerisms were gone in this moment.

Everleigh Ebersol
 
Her suspicions about her letter being intercepted seemed true, but she wouldn’t risk proffering that to Alistair now. With a fluid stretch of her arm, she opened her cloak. Everleigh had to toss the armor she often wore, though she made sure to keep the leather vest, arm bracers, thighs and greaves. But the pants she wore were loose, and upon closer inspection, they were muddied men’s knickers instead of the tight breeches she preferred. They clearly did not belong to her.

Her hand dipped down, plucking the purse from her hip and giving it a shake, letting the coin clink and clank against each other. She grinned at Alistair then, remnants of her devilish mischievousness contrary to her angelic looks reappearing for a brief moment, as if they were initiates once again.

“Gambling. What else would I be doing?” She could have remained as a proctor at the Academy. She could have gone with her original plan, to be deployed as a dreadlord in the army of the North. Or if she had wanted a more domesticated life, she could have taken that stipend, maybe start a business? Everleigh had scoffed when that idea first came to her one lonely, summer night. What business did a dreadlord know other than breaking bones and spilling blood?

“What are you doing here, Al?” In other words, was he here for her, to bring her back to Vel Anir and imprison her for taking Miklan away from the Academy? Everleigh tried to read his face, but that was the thing about Alistair: he had a poker face almost as good as hers. Sometimes it felt like looking in a mirror.

Alistair Krixus
 
A feeling of disappointment settled in his stomach as he realized that at this moment Everleigh was close to just being some overpowered swindler. She deserved so much better than whatever this was.

"I'm not sure. I was afraid to ask."
He replied with a straight face.

Only now did he turn to examine the bodies, only seeable from Evie's lingering magic. Was this a common occurrence, stealing from merchants only to wait for them to attack and then just killing them?

"The Republic has announced an initiative to crack down on criminal enterprises. Viktor was involved in smuggling along with several other crimes."

There was an unspoken truth, that the initiative had a lot of ambiguity written into it to allow for the discretion of the guard in its enforcement. The fact that Alistair was not already acting indicated that he had made the decision that Evie did not fit the bill.

"His men were a start."


Everett Ebersol
 
Alistair’s words hung heavy between the two dreadlords. Everleigh’s lips parted but no words could come out, her throat clogged with questions she knew she couldn’t ask. She cleared her throat, let her arms fall to her sides and her cloak swallow her form once again.

“Sounds like you’re still after Viktor.” Was all she could manage, feeling equal parts relief and gratitude towards the man that, even after all this time and all she had done, was still a friend. She didn’t have many of those anymore. With all the grace and power of a jungle cat, Everleigh stepped over the bodies, making her way to Alistair. She looked up at him, violet gaze squinting at their inspection.

The silence was interrupted by a drunken tune, off key and shrill. An old drinking song as old as the history of this town could be heard crashing through the night. Everleigh waited for the man to pass by the alley, completely unaware of what was there as much as he was unaware of the latter half of the song. He shouted the chorus, over and over again.

The night is young, walk on girl
The stars are bright, walk on boy
The moon is full with your hand in mine
The night is young….


“He has a point. The night is young.” Everleigh went to step past Alistair. “So what are you going to do?”

Alistair Krixus
 
He was, but Viktor would not be removed within a day. Alistair would go about that task meticulously so as not to let anyone slip through the cracks. Then, he would move on to the next.

The loud and uncoordinated chanting from outside the alley made the grip on Alistair's dagger tighten by instinct, prepared to remove any witnesses. He calmed when he realized the man was just moving by, and...he could not just kill him now. That was wrong...Why was he having such thoughts, he had not been so quick to kill since his time at the Academy.

For all of those thoughts, his eyes never broke from Evie's. He could no longer see them, only the aura around her. It would only take a little bit of mana to truly see but that was wasteful, so he refrained himself.

As Evie began to moved past him, he quickly stowed his daggers and then reached out grabbing onto her arm stopping her from leaving.

"First, I'm going to make sure you don't cause any trouble. Best way to do that is for you to explain to me what the hell you have been up to, while I buy you a drink. Deal?"

Everleigh Ebersol
 
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When he reached for her, she had to stop herself from letting muscle memory take over. Everleigh recoiled, the sort of shiver that felt slow and fast all at once, slipping down one’s spin and making their back curl from such pressure. Even when her body could process the fact that Alistair’s touch wasn’t harmful, wasn’t truly preventing her from letting her go where she needed to go, dread would still preoccupy her mind. She needed Alistair’s help. She hadn’t quite figured how to remove the binding rune from Erland.

“When have you ever stopped me from causing trouble?” Through years of practice, her voice remained even, her face a mask of mischief. “But, yeah, sure. I could use a drink.” She couldn’t get drunk, but maybe she could convince Alistair to pay for a meal. “We’re not going to The Red Fox or McLeary’s. There’s another tavern, on the western outskirts. The Drunken Dog. Follow me.”

The two of them would leave the bodies of Viktor’s men behind them, the moment they were out from the alley, Everleigh would no longer think of them. She was far busier with thoughts of grandeur relating to food and warmth and a full belly. She even began walking faster to the tavern, forcing Alistair to either keep up with her or to trail behind her.

Alistair Krixus
 
"Always a first if there has to be."

Alistair responded matter-of-factly, not showing a sign of backing down. If it was possible Alistair seemed even more stiff than he had been. Over the last few years of the academy, Alistair had slowly begun to loosen up around the group of classmates he considered friends, one of which was Evie, but it seemed like he had fallen back into old ways.

"Fine by me, as long as you explain what is going on."


He hurried to keep up with her, not willing to let her go too far from him. They made quick time through the city. The two of them were intimidating enough just from looks without factoring in both of their bearings as trained killers. Needless to say, people parted for them.

A crack in Alistair's mask appeared as they walked for the briefest moments. He looked tired, from what was anyone guess, but the bags under Alistair's eyes were dark even for him.

"I just...I know I wasn't always around to talk to, but what happened? You kidnapped an initiate. You disappeared. Why?"


Everleigh Ebersol
 
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She whirled as if she were about to push him, hit him, anything to physically step back from the questions. Her hands were tight fists, a tremble in her favored left. A mirror to Alistair, the Academy had etched the same story into her bones-- a tale as old as water, so ingrained in their bodies that both couldn't live without it now.

"Kidnapped? I saved him, Alistair." She looked up at her old friend, his face now without the smooth, round edges of youth that buffered against anxiety and expectations. "I am keeping him and others safe from that torture chamber. You know the Academy as I do-- what do they do to us? It doesn't matter that the Republic happened. Our graduation was proof that these scars are more than skin deep. I am doing what no one did for you, me, or anyone else!"

Alistair Krixus
 
Alistair could not help but look at Evie with sorrow and pity. She had been broken at the Academy, and some of them had not been able to put themselves back together completely. It was this understanding that caused Alistair to lean back slightly, not wanting to push her too hard.

"I understand that's what you believe, but...it only matters what they think. There is nothing more that Vel Anir hates than people messing with their initiates. They will come for you."

Al sighed as he gripped the bridge of his nose in frustration. He knew that Evie was partially right, but that didn't stop the Republic. Besides, the Academy might have broken them, but it was doing better, their failed graduation had lit a spark that was improving things...It wasn't perfect, but nothing ever was.

"You have also put a huge target on those kids back...Wait, others? How many Evie?"


Everleigh Ebersol
 
Don’t pity me.

That flare of anger rose up again in her gut to her chest. She felt the roar of rage in her ears, her jaw tight with indignation. The Academy trained her well if her body was physically trying to keep her from hearing how soft her spoke to her. For a moment, all she saw was red.

“Then let them come.” Everleigh said. “They already started.” She tilted her chin up in cocksure defiance. “If the Academy, no, the Republic, wants Miklan… fine.” She shook her head, violet eyes wild with bloodlust. “But they’ll only get him if I’m six feet under.” She turned from Alistair, beginning to walk once more.

“And just so you know,” she turned her head over her shoulder. “It’s only Miklan. But he can give magic to others. What do you think the Academy would do with that? There’s plenty of orphanages throughout Vel Anir, plenty of young kids toughening out in slums, too. You’re smart enough to know if the Republic can’t take children from families then they’ll be more than happy to take them off the streets as a favor to society.”

Alistair Krixus
 
“But they’ll only get him if I’m six feet under.”

That was Alistair's worry, to begin with. He wanted to argue more, but he could see the anger rising up within Evie. He was about to drop the subject and offer her some support, but he froze and his mouth ever so slightly dropped open in shock.

The kid gave magic to other people? That...could change the world much less Vel Anir. Even if his powers only made a person aware of the mana around them then that would be enough to teach them certain types of magic...like rune magic.

Vel Anir's Dreadlords were some of the deadliest magical soldiers in the world and the only thing that stopped them was the small amount of magical children born each year...This was an endless supply of Dreadlord soldiers.

He had been wrong in his earlier statement, it wasn't a probability that the Republic would come for Evie and the kid. It was a guarantee. Hell, if any other kingdoms or organizations in the world found out about this then they would come for him too.

A small part of him actually saw the good in that, giving magic to street orphans and then training them to be more than themselves actually sounded like a good goal. The only reason Evie's vision of this was bad was because of their time in the Academy, but it was recently reformed...

However, the far more cautious part of Alistair realized the danger in that thinking. This kid was the golden apple and there would be wars happily fought over him.

"By all the gods above, Evie, what have you gotten yourself into? If what you are saying is true then it isn't just the Republic, ever kingdom, organization, hell even wayward bandit group has a reason to want to take this kid."

Everleigh Ebersol
 
She stalked along the streets, Alistair’s words reminding her of the truth that loomed before her. For a second, she felt like her heart stopped beating. All around her she could feel eyes, so many eyes watching her from the shadows. When she closed her own eyes, a mouth would open. It told her how she was weak, how this was all for nothing, that her future was getting shorter and shorter by the minute as she continued this charade.

She was no hero, she was a killer, a murderer. It wasn’t long ago that she killed a boy the same age as Miklan, back in Aina O Ka La.

Everleigh came to an abrupt halt, feet suddenly too heavy to move.

“I don’t care.” She whispered. “I don’t care what happens to me as long as he’s safe.” It was a strange thing to say aloud, something she had only thought before when Zael had told her the abuse he received at the hands of Kimble. This time she would prove it. “He’s just a kid. Kids deserve to be just that: just a kid, nothing more.”

Alistair Krixus
 
"But how do you plan on making that happen, Evie? Where are you going to hide him, because if you just spend his entire life on the run then he really isn't getting the chance to be a kid."

He had faith in Evie to protect someone if she truly set her mind to it, she was as dangerous as they come, but she was one rogue Dreadlord against the world. Eventually, she would get tired or slip up and then it was over. She needed some plan, or place to put the kid, but...he could not imagine where. The enchantments alone that could hide that kid from divination would take an expert.

Al sighed as he stopped himself from offering more negative thoughts as that really wasn't helping his friend.

"I'm not saying what you are doing is wrong, it just feels...impossible. I don't want you or the kid to get hurt."

Because, as much as he liked to say the Academy had changed, the last initiate to come through with world-changing abilities like that might be Edric and they had pushed him a step too far...and this kid could do far more than Edric.

Everett Ebersol
 
"I'll figure it out." They had come to their destination, and she opened the door for him after ensuring her hair was covered within her hood. "I always figure things out in the end." When they stepped into The Drunken Dog, Everleigh brought Alistair into a corner. The usual seedy types had already taken all the good tables obscured by shadows.

"Too many damn edgy rogues in this town," Everleigh huffed, going to the furthest corner where only one man sat. "You waiting for someone?" He didn't answer. Instead, he stroked his black beard. There wasn't even a pint of ale in front of him. "Fine, we're sitting here." She plopped down onto a seat next to the man who smelled too clean to be a highwayman. Everleigh ignored how he shifted away from her as if she smelled worse than a goblin.

"Honey, go grab us some drinks. I'll keep our new friend company." She leaned in towards the stranger. "What's your name? Let's pass the time together by having many long, deep, meaningful conversations. Did your mother ever hug you enough as a child, or what was your childhood fantasy dream career, hm?" She grinned, wicked like the sly fox she was. The man huffed and got up from his seat, purposefully knocking into Alistair's shoulder and muttering something about being a woman magnet.

Alistair Krixus
 
That did not sound like a plan at all, and that usually meant bad news. He would have continued questioning her, but they arrived at their destination and Evie quickly got to work.

A small smile played on Alistair's lips as he watched the scene unfold, happy to see that not everything had changed. Not even the shoulder bump makes it drop. He simply looked at the retreating man with pity before he nodded and headed off to grab them drinks.

Alistair paid for three ales and returned to the table offering two of the mugs to Evie. She needed them more than he did, and he was still technically here on business.

Al slipped into his seat before taking a sip and then just staring at Evie expectantly, before quickly adding,

"You need to leave Vel Anir."

Everleigh Ebersol
 
She hadn't even had time to sip the ale before Alistair spoke. She narrowed her eyes, assessing his face to see if she could gather any clues. She took a drink, letting the silence settle in between them. This didn't taste as good as what Sam had. The bitterness lingered long on her tongue. Or perhaps the bitterness stood out, considering the situation she found herself in and the conversation she was about to have.

"I've thought about leaving." She said finally. "Quite frankly, I am on my way out. I don't have the kid with me. I'm traveling right now with a... friend." She frowned, wondering if rumors of her taking a Nordenfiir whore had spread as much as her kidnapping Miklan. "But I don't know if I can stay away from Vel Anir."

Alistair Krixus
 
"What?! Where's the kid?" Alistair exploded, before quickly getting himself under control. "Sorry."

He was doing his best to think of the kid as a kid and not some type of world-changing bomb, but that was hard right after Evie had explained what he could do.

And yes, he was aware of her other friend, but that was far more easier to take than her previous party member. After all, Evie could be friends with whoever she wanted. Just hopefully the whore did not have kingdoms after her too.

"What keeps bringing you back? I figured you hated Vel Anir more than most of our class, and that's really saying something."

There was a part of his brain that really wanted to focus on this kid, but a larger part wanted to make sure Evie was safe first. He would never admit it, but he looked out for most of his former classmates whether they had asked him to or not. He kept tabs on anyone he could and kept out feelers for the ones who had disappeared. As much as he wanted them back in Vel Anir, he just wanted to make sure none of them got killed in unfitting ways, these were his brothers and sisters in arms.

Everleigh Ebersol
 
Everleigh's brows rose right before her face fell at Alistair's words. Her grip tightened around her mug of ale that wouldn't be able to get her drunk, immune to its properties for the rest of her life-- or until her magic wore out.

I figured you hated Vel Anir more than most of our class, and that's really saying something.

Was that why Zael didn't ask her to go with him? She took a shaky breath, resolve trembling at the thought of the only man who could truly love her despite what she was: poison, murderer, weapon, monster. This wasn't about Zael.

"I don't hate Vel Anir." Everleigh said quietly, momentarily soft and vulnerable. Her lips held onto a slight frown as her violet eyes searched for answers in the brown ale. None came from it. "It's my home. My father is there. I have a little brother. There are people that I care about still in Vel Anir. But I can see the maw and claws that are the Republic." She peeked up at Alistair, pleadingly. "Can't you see it, too?"

Alistair Krixus
 
Alistair was silent as he quickly sensed he had said something wrong. Evie got that look of someone who was thinking of someone else. He would know, he had it enough.

Her response was even more surprising, Alistair had not known about Evie's family. Very few Dreadlords who weren't nobles had much of a family to care about. Evie had her father and a brother. While he could not completely empathize with a father he cared about, he knew the importance of caring for one's siblings.

Evie's question to him made him sigh, it was not the first time he had been asked something like this. In fact, the topic comes up rather frequently, now. She likened the Republic to some sort of maw or an animal. She was right in some ways, but...If the republic was some trained guard dog with a danger of lashing out, then the Vel Anir empire before it was just some wild wolf.

"I see the claws...but those claws while dangerous are also necessary in this world. However, I do understand your caution."


A moment of silence followed before Alistair spoke up with another question.

"How old is your brother?... While you are gone I can look after him and your father if that will help bring some piece of mind."

Everleigh Ebersol
 
"So you agree with them, then?" she continued to stare. "That those with magic are the strength of Vel Anir?" She leaned forward. "When war happens with the Empire or the Falwood, do you think it'll only be a choice at that point? There is already forced conscription on those without magic, so how would it change during wartime? Will there be enough dreadlords in the reserves by then, or will they have to make more?"

Alistair Krixus
 
Who is 'we' in this situation? "They are A strength of Vel Anir, but not the only ones. The regular army is also skilled."

This was suddenly feeling a bit more confrontational, and although Alistair did not want to fight, he also did not feel like backing down on this position. To many people saw the only way to fix something was to tear it down and start over, but there were ways to improve that were not so drastic.

"It is true that Dreadlord numbers may decrease, but there are still enrollment numbers from people who want to join and from orphans with magical abilities. While not as many, they can be trained better and in a more safe way than we ever were to make up for it...We can also fight using advancements in magic...and technology." He defended.

Life in the military was never going to be easy, but that was true for anywhere in Arethil. The Academy was getting better, they just had too many bad memories to see past the bias. Then there were those like Amos whose groundbreaking work would surely prove advantageous.

"It's not perfect, but it is getting better, and someone needs to make sure it stays that way."

Everleigh Ebersol
 
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“The regular army got their asses handed to them by elves,” Everleigh spat. “And orphans? Really?” She shook her head, a flame lighting up in her chest, steam rising up to her throat. Is this how Zael felt when he stood up to the proctors? “Orphans with magic are treated as future tools— because the Republic feeds them and puts clothes on their back, they’re forced to feel indebted to a home that most likely is the reason their parents died.” She didn’t raise her voice them time.

Alistair was remaining calm. She’d need to stay calm as well.

“They don’t have parents. They don’t have anyone truly looking out for them. Orphans with magic deserve to be in a place that is a home, not some school that only has expectations of them. They should be nurtured, cared for, allowed to be a kid for Nulo’s sake. That’s what I want to see. That’s why I had to take Miklan because guess what, he’s an orphan. And it’s the Academy’s fault his family is dead.” She stared at Alistair for a long moment. “You could ask your sister. She was there with the initiates that slaughtered the townspeople of Arnim.”

Alistair Krixus