Into the West

I'm sooooooo very sorry it took me so long to get this out to you all!!!! TT~TT ~cries~

I'll try and get the next chapter up soon!

But I've been trying to get the last of my collage work finshed and I had the Fashion Show to deal with!!! ((it went really well by the way!!!)) There was a bit the Press and Journal about it!!! Hah!!!


¬.¬" One of my friends ((you know who you are fiend...)) asked me the other day what kind of references I had been using for the two cultures... How can I put this...

The Andine came from a mixture of Japanese, Ancient Greek, Arabic and some Elvish stuff I had as well as a large injection of .hack//SIGN and The Vision of Escaflowne movie music... ((Go figure...))

The Anvarian on the other hand mostly came from the idea of 'Romantic' Medieval Europe as well as one too many times watching the Return of the King for the Ride of the Rohirrim and the Battle of Pelenor... no suprise if I say the music gave me ideas as well...


Again my thanks go out to HallowsEve and ashesxx2xxashes for their reviews!

This chapter is for you!

~~~~~


~The Waxing Moon, Palace Way, Sanc~


Being patient had never been something Falkai would admit to being very good at. As a child he had been prone to getting into fights and pulling pranks on both his age-mates as well as his elders.

In later years he had joined the An’Ifrit ranks as a fighter and had caught the attention of the women who became the first female Ifrit in the long history of the Andine.

He had been an idiot and picked a fight with her, only to have his ass kicked and his pride with it. She had laughed and helped him up and that was it for him.

He had been by her side ever since.

She was the only one he would be patient for.

When the messenger from the council arrived in Fenrir, Falkai was long since gone. It was his Second, Saluki, who contacted him about the message.

Illyria had awoken and had destroyed the crystal prison she had been confined within, and she had done it without drawing the instant attention of the council. If it were not for the prisons monthly checks the council would never have known.

He had known though. He had felt her awaken fully; he had known that she had broken out of the crystal prison. He had felt her head south-east towards Sanc and he knew that there was just one thing on her mind: revenge.

He had followed her path through the mountains to the abandoned outpost north of the Great Eastern Forest. There he found clothing and supplies missing as well as weapons.

From there he went south to Sanc.

~~~

His nose twitched beneath its covering of a heavy silken scarf, the stench of the city had made him gag when he first arrived, how anything could live here voluntarily was beyond him. The rancid smell made him nauseous.

His nose twitched again, the wind brought with it a scent that he instantly recognized. Metallic blood mixed with city grime had a distinctive odour but it could not mask her scent, at least, not to him.

She smelt like cedar wood and vanilla, but beneath that, there was the unmistakable scent of fire and fur.

Creeping out from his hiding place in the shadow of a chimney stack, he caught a fleeting glimpse of her moving around in the room of an inn next to the pub whose roof he was currently sitting on.

Wrinkling his nose against the smell of the filthy streets he began to move closer. Gracefully, he slid down the icy roof tiles until his feet hit the gutter. Bracing himself there for a moment he made sure the bow and quiver on his back was secure as were the stilettos hidden in his knee-high boots.

A moment later he leapt.

His hands found the gutter of the opposite roof a moment before his feet found the stone ledge that circled the roof almost like a simple decoration.

A soft sigh of relief eased past his covered lips as the gutter did not break under the new weight he added. His luck seemed to hold as he slowly began to ease himself towards the windowsill of Illyria’s room.

Sliding down into a crouch on the sill, Falkai remained in the shadows as he peered through the frost-rimmed glass into the room. The last thing he wanted was for her to know he was here.

She would be furious that he had found her so quickly and having her angry at you was never a good thing. Her reaction would probability be far worse then normal, especially after what happened the last time.

Being betrayed stung deep, but it stung ten times worse when the one betraying you was a person you considered closer then family.

Looking in he found the large room empty, the fire in the corner had burnt down to little more then glowing embers. The room was comfortably attired but not cluttered; he spotted a small medicinal chest tucked beneath the dresser and a saddlebag thrown over the back of a chair, both of which he recognised.

Her long cloak had been thrown onto the wooden floor at the foot of the bed, in the firelight it shone dull silver like spider webs except for the blood stains that covered it.

Her blood he realised with a jolt.

For several minutes he sat on the window ledge...watching...waiting. Inside the room he could hear the sound of water sloshing in a tub and over that, the music from below in the common room. It whispered through the air, slow and deeply melancholy compared to what inns normally played.

However, with what had happened earlier that day it was not surprising, it would have been disrespectful to play anything bright.

Leaning back on the slim ledge, Falkai pulled the wide trumpet sleeves of his jacket back to tighten the wrist supports of the fingerless leather gloves he wore.

That done, he leant back against the stone wall and cast a casual eye over the city.

He had been up and around the main parts of the old city already or the parts that he recognized at least. The Mound had not changed for the most parts but there were noticeable differences in some of the high battlements.
He had almost laughed out loud when he saw them, the Anvarians must have thought that they were strengthening the palace wall, but in truth they had weakened it.

The Temple of the Star seemed unchanged, but it had been impossible to get close to the gate let alone the inner sanctum with all that had happened, so all he could judge by was the outer wall.

It might be interesting to come back some time in the next couple of years and see if the star piece was still in the inner most sanctuary.

From further up the street there came the sound of shone hooves on cobbles and the thunder of many feet behind them.
The sound of more then just the common guard.

Hooking his fingers over the edge of the roof, the man flipped himself up and over.

He had just slipped into the shadows created by another large chimneystack when the group responsible for the noise appeared.

There were at least two dozen solders on foot but what really caught his attention was the mounted pair before them.

The leader wore the insignia of General Kailas. Twin red wolves rose rampant on a black field. Between them sat a white ship and tower topped by an eight-pointed star.
His red enamelled wolf’s head helmet glittered in the moonlight, bright compared to the velvet darkness of the long cloak that covered an equally elaborate breastplate.

Falkai could not stop the soft snigger from passing his lips as he regarded the stolen insignia with amusement.

The tall dark haired man beside the general had to be his younger brother.
Kira Melli Farr’ell was cloaked from head to ankles in black, dressed like the assassin he was but he also bore the royal insignia of the ship, tower and star flanked by his own pair of ravens on his shoulder.

Slithering down the rooftop the man watched silently as the pair dismounted and walked into the inn.
She had to be the reason that they were here, there was no other explanation. They must have found out her location from some informant, more then likely it had been a member of the thieves’ court.

Growling with annoyance at the lack of control Flent obviously had over his men, Falkai pulled one of the stilettos out of his boot and slid it into his glove just in case.

The sound of soft footstep in the room below alerted him to her presence and a heartbeat later he could feel her unique power signature.

He could smell the soap on her freshly washed skin and couldn’t help but smile at the thought of the men walking in on her as she dressed. The pyrotechnic display of her wrath would be worth inviting guests to watch.

If let loose she was a force of nature, pure and simple, nothing could stand against her fury. She had destroyed armies and had left destruction in her wake for centuries.

To have that legendary force let loose in Sanc might have been a good idea during the war, but now it would just be an inconvenience.

Sliding down the roof he looked in the window and was relieved to find the tall red-head already dressed.

On the table near to the window was a stone pot containing a strong smelling poultice, it must have been a bad wound if she had need of assistance in her healing.

About to knock on the window to attract her attention he was shocked to see her suddenly flinch in pain and practically rip her clothing from her shoulder. A breath later he understood why. Her shoulder and upper arm, or what he could see of it, were scored by sickly green and brown veins.

Watching with wide eyes, he saw her run long trembling fingers over the marked skin and crumple to her knees.

Panic coursed through him, never in all his years had he ever seen her react to anything, poison had never had an effect on her before. But she had been out of action for almost a hundred years, so it was possible that she was still not at full power, which was both good and bad.

Illyria at full power was a disaster waiting to happen, Illyria without her power was ten times worse; like a cornered wolf.
She would lash out at anything she deemed a threat, be they friend or foe it would not matter and the only reason he knew this was because of that bastard Suma.

He was the reason the council had locked her up after the Pandis’Veel incident. Suma was the one who pulled the strings and got the others to think that his queen was unstable. Not that she had been totally sane after she had found Narsail’s murdered body. But she had not deserved to be locked in in that life sucking crystal like a criminal.

He could still see the fight to take her down in his minds eye.

~Suma, clad in silver-blue armour made to look like rippling water stood with his broadsword in hand. His blue cloak snapped sharply in the wind, the Undine symbol adoring the heavy fabric like a black and silver brand. He looked like some great hero out of legend, but Falkai knew that appearances were nothing if not deceiving.

Calmly he called out orders to his guard who had the young Ifrit surrounded, too afraid to try and fight her himself.

Green eyes took in the scene before him with pain. She was nude and could have cared less, the only armour left to her were the moon-steel arm guards, belt and collar. Her katana lay several meters away, the metal tassels lying like coiled snakes beside it. Her ankle-length hair was loose around her, giving the impression of a cloak, but not hiding anything.

Worst of all were the marks.

The golden-red of molten metal etched into her pale skin like the most intricate of tattoos. They all had some, but nobody had as many as she did. They wrapped up her long arms to her torso where they separated, most flowing down her back to a sharp point just above her tail-bone, two smaller tendrils creeping just below her collarbones. Another set sat below her breasts and curved down in gentle triangles to follow the inward curve of her hipbones. More slithered up the side of her long legs.

Her power was beginning to pulse out of control again.

Green eyes hardened for a breath as he pulled a stiletto from its hidden sheath on his thigh. It was the only thing he could do, there was no other choice and he knew it.

The scorched field past by in a flash, living bodies were pushed out of the way and then the blade sank home. Still partially crouched, Falkai looked up into opal-black eyes widened in shock.
A heart blow was not enough to kill her, not nearly enough, but it would be enough to slow her down for the moment.

“Falkai…why?” The look of betrayal and confusion in those eyes tore him to the core.

But it had to be done and that’s what he whispered back to her as he pulled her flush against him.~

Digging his fingers into the gutter, Falkai leapt over the roof edge. He swung his body in a graceful arc, his boots slamming into the window which flew open with no resistance.

The next thing he knew he was kneeling beside the fallen body of Illyria.

~~~~~

Please review!!!