Vaeryae's father charged at her quickly, and hardly waiting for her to bring up her own sword into a defensive position, he was on her. His sword struck hers with such force that she felt her arm go suddenly numb all the way to her shoulder. She barely managed to keep her sword up, and the two weapons grated noisily against each other as she took several unsteady steps backwards before regaining her balance. With a grunt, Vaeryae pushed upwards and away, as she had been taught, in an attempt to disengage her sword from her father's. She was over-matched and ineffective against his greater weight. All her move did was give him momentum for his second attack and throw her off balance.

He struck again and Vaeryae intercepted his sword in the crosspiece of hers. She tried to jerk his blade to the side and twisted her wrist at the same time, so their blades would turn with hers was on top. The technique, as usual, didn't work out quite how she wanted it to, and it only took an effortless twitch of her father's blade to send her weapon flying out of her hand and across the room.

"Ouch! That hurt!" Vaeryae screamed, cradling her hand against her chest and biting her lip to keep back the tears that would only anger her father more.

"By Raije, you are a clumsy mule." He cursed. He paused for a moment in front of her with his blade still raised, as if contemplating finishing the blow to get rid of the offensive piece of offal that was his daughter. Another breath gave him control over his rage and he remembered that Raije would not condone such action against someone so helpless. He cursed again and retrieved her blade. He crossed the room with long, angry strides and thrust the hilt of the blade towards Vaeryae. When she didn't reach up to take it, he snarled and shoved it into her unwilling hand.

"Damn you! I don't want to be a guard!" Vaeryae yelled, dropping the blade from her numbed fingers. She stared defiantly up at her father and felt a deep chasm of fear open up in the pit of her stomach. He stared down at her in stony silence and only the rhythmic tensing of his jaw told Vaeryae how angry he was.

"How many times must I tell you to treat a blade with respect?" He said slowly, quietly.. dangerously.

Vaeryae wilted under her father's glare and dangerous tone. She bowed her head and took a step backwards before leaning down to pick up the blade. She ran her hand over the sword quickly and scanned it with her eyes. There didn't appear to be any damage.

A glancing blow, one she didn't dodge quite in time, sent Vaeryae flying against a wall. She slid to the floor, dazed, and wanted nothing more than to let her sword fall from her fingers, curl up in a protective ball, and wait until her father went away. But it could not be that easy. It was never that easy.

When her hand fell into the pile of debris that had been swept up against the wall, Vaeryae felt hope stir in her heart. Her father was always upset that he beat her too easily, that she didn't put up enough of a fight. He thought she wasn't trying. Her fingers curled around a few chips of wood, some dirt, and the gods only knew what else. She would show him.

Vaeryae didn't have very long to savor her feeling of triumph when she caught her father completely by surprise. His daughter's audacity and betrayal of everything he felt he was trying to teach her so enraged him that he lost control. He beat at her mercilessly with the dulled practice blade, even after she had lost consciousness.

When her feet finally touched the ground, she felt a sharp twinge in her right ankle. She had twisted it badly in one of the many tumbles her father had given her. He hadn't even given her a break then; no, he only waited until she gingerly got up again and pressed the attack. Relentless. Vaeryae took a deep breath, trying to calm her heart and mind. She leaned against the wall for support while her breathing normalized.

She tip-toed carefully, with a pronounced limp, along the wall of the house, staying in the shadows as the man in the tavern had taught her. Several twigs snapped as she walked and Vaeryae froze against the wall, her pulse pounding in her ears. She was fairly certain that her father was asleep, anyway, but doubt and fear nagged at her. Vaeryae's father wasn't much of a teacher of weapons, but he had done well teaching his daughter to fear.

After a few moments, she re-gathered her courage and inched along until she reached the edge of the house. From there, it was only a short sprint across the front courtyard to the gate. She could climb over the fence with only minimal effort, and then be well on her way to freedom. Vaeryae glanced up at the dark house and took some strength from that assurance; her father was fast asleep.

It was only a few minutes of a terrifying, crouched and limping sprint across the courtyard, but it felt like years to Vaeryae. Although the fence was low, and it should have been easy to climb over, when she reached it, she suddenly had no coordination. Of course, it didn't help that her half her fingers were bruised and swollen from sword "practice" with her father. Every time he disarmed her, she collected another bruised, sprained, or broken finger. She could hardly grip the top of the fence to pull herself up. Her hands were sweating so badly by the time she reached the top that she almost slipped; even so, her landing was not very graceful, which awoke nearly crippling pain in her ankle once more. She sucked in a sharp breath and held it, to keep herself from crying out. Only a faint whimper escaped.

The breath of freedom that the other side of the fence afforded her made the few moments of terror seem worthwhile to Vaeryae. With a grin, she set off towards the seedier side of New Thalos.

Bravely, Vaeryae resisted the urge to flinch or shrink back against the wall. Once her father had told her that a person should never show fear, not even in the most dire of situations. As little as she valued most of her father's opinions, Vaeryae had to admit that it was a good piece of advice. She had seen enough neighborhood dog fights to know a hasty retreat could hurt more than standing her ground.

After a moment, those patrons who had noticed Vaeryae's entrance returned to whatever drinking, gaming, or wenching they had been doing and ceased to acknowledge her presence. Vaeryae felt suddenly much more relaxed and also courageous enough to move away from the shelter of the doorway. Her eyes strained through the darkness, looking for the familiar form of the robed figure who had become her teacher, of sorts.

Vaeryae started to move, hesitantly, towards a figure that looked like it might have been him. She made it not two steps before someone grabbed her from behind, placing a gloved hand quickly over her mouth, and pulled her roughly backwards.

His breath tickled her ear when he said in a harsh whisper, "The girl who creeps like a mouse in a room full of tigers is certain to be eaten."

Remaining very still, Vaeryae nodded slightly. She wanted to let the man knew she heard and understood his lesson without provoking him to further measures. The way he held her against him twisted her shoulder, awakening an old bruise. Vaeryae bit the inside of her lip, trying to keep calm as the pain intensified. Finally, the man let go and Vaeryae turned quickly to face him.

"Come, child." He whispered and beckoned. Without a second thought, Vaeryae followed him into the darkened alcove of the tavern. He fiddled with something against the wall and a passage opened silently. Try as she might, Vaeryae could not make out what he had done, or even what had marked the place on the wall where he had activated the secret door. Without a word to her, the man turned and walked quickly down the passage, leaving her to scamper behind him or return to the tavern. Vaeryae didn't hesitate for a moment. She plunged into the mysterious unknown, the glorious escape, offered by that passage way and the man's confident stride.

In the middle of the night, it had seemed adventurous and daring to accept her teacher's offer to join his organization. She was not particularly surprised to discover he was the leader of these devonites, though if she had had a more suspicious nature, she might have wondered why he had taken such an interest in her. She was admittedly somewhat clumsy, only passably stealthy, and inexperienced. Despite her father's efforts, he had only succeeded in teaching her to distrust him, instead of the much larger, more dangerous world found outside his home. So here she was, trying her best to sneak around the city streets and keep near enough to the senior members of the organization without annoying them.

They started off again after a hurried conversation and Vaeryae lagged behind. Suddenly, a hand grabbed her wrist and she stopped short. Turning, the angry words died at the sight of a good samaritan's compassionate face. He smiled encouragingly at her before he spoke.

"My dear child," he began. The words killed any good feelings Vaeryae could have had for the man. She snarled and cut him off, tugging her arm out of his grasp. "Wait!" He gasped and thrust something into her hands, "keep this, at least."

Vaeryae hardly gave the round, rough-surfaced object a glance before she stuffed it into a pocket. glancing around, Vaeryae anxiously tried to locate her escorts. Getting lost and distracted was not an auspicious beginning for her life of crime. In fact, she sensed that displeasing these men would bring it to a rather abrupt end.

Finally, one of them turned to her. "Here it is time to prove yourself to us."

Vaeryae only nodded, knowing that was the reason she had been following them around all day. She felt both relieved and apprehensive. She knew that they had been testing her throughout the day, so another test was a good sign. It meant they felt she was worthy of the chance. On the other hand, she didn't know what they would demand of her, or if she could pull it off. She resisted the urge to fidget with difficulty.

"Go inside that tavern," The cultist continued, "and bring us something of value."

"But.. I don't have any money..." Vaeryae started to say, before she realized the ridiculousness of the statement and trailed off lamely. She thought she saw a brief flash of disgust in the eyes of the cultist. How naive and stupid! Of course, she was to steal it.

The other man opened his mouth to say something, but Vaeryae cut him off before she had to hear the contemptuous comment. "Yes. I'll steal it."

Gathering her courage, Vaeryae started out of the alley. Perhaps, had she been watching the tavern instead of the cultists, she might have noticed her father entering just a few moments before her own exit from the alley. The moment she stepped across the threshold, even before she picked her target, Vaeryae was in more trouble than she dared to imagine.

Just as Vaeryae was about to dash underneath the man's table, several more figures approached him and sat down, talking quietly. She cursed Raije's name inwardly (Raije, thanks to her father, was a convenient object of her cursing). Her path to the table was blocked. She sighed and tried to back away as stealthily as she had approached (this was not, actually, very stealthily. The man had been watching her with some amusement since she had started making her way towards him).

The flow of the crowd took Vaeryae farther from the front door than she had intended, and within a few feet of her own father. He was quite drunk and didn't quite realize that the bright red hair belonged to his daughter until she had passed out of reach. It didn't matter, though, he noted. Vaeryae was going deeper into the tavern, and he slowly made his way after her, stopping occasionally to trade jokes with friends. Her father was not one to give the impression something was amiss.

Vaeryae found herself instead at the other side of the room and another hallway. It led to a reception area, where a young girl, supposedly in charge of watching the keys, was dozing. Vaeryae felt a moment of triumph as an idea struck her. Would not the rich people who stayed here sometimes leave behind minor baubles, she thought. After all, if you are rich, a few coins or a lost earring might go unnoticed. She had only to grab a key, search the room, and hope to find something left behind.

Having successfully grabbed a key, Vaeryae ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time, and began fitting the keys in locks until there was one that it fit. Vaeryae had opened the door, slipped through it, and shut it firmly before she realized the room was not, as she had thought, empty.

Startled and hardly understanding every other word of the man's speech, Vaeryae froze against the door. Inexplicably, her sword had found its way out of its sheath and into her hand. Regardless of whether or not she could use it, weapons were to be drawn when mysterious people were found where there were to be none.

The figure muttered quietly, "bloody New Thalos," when Vaeryae continued to stare at him mutely.

His curse brought Vaeryae back to her senses and she took a surreptitious glance around the room, hoping to salvage the situation. She thought of retreat, but the man would surely raise an alarm if he figure out she was a thief. Remembering the orange a samaritan had given her earlier, Vaeryae said, "oh.. You didn't ask for fruit?"

The highlander, confirming her suspicion, informed her he had recently had a "varry hard trek" from Nordmaar and did not ask for fruit.

"P-perhaps sir w-would like it for later?" Vaeryae pressed hopefully, pulling the orange out of her pocket and inching slowly towards the table, hoping to see something discarded behind it and thinking to take it quickly, before he noticed.

"Wot in thae blooy naem ah Raije wuld et taek fer ye ta jus go?" He asked, exasperated. His black traveling robes, trimmed lightly with silver, rustled softly as he gestured toward the door.

The name of Raije caught Vaeryae's ears and she glanced at the man with a glare. If there was anything that could ease her conscience about stealing, it would be to know her target were a follower of Raije. She smiled inwardly, thinking that this man must be as stupid as her father, and again looked around for something to steal.

"Err.. it isn't mine.. I was, uh.. I was fetching it for someone else." Vaeryae hoped she didn't look as guilty as she felt.

"Bah," he muttered, "wot to yae want?"

"If.. If I don't leave the fruit, I'll be in trouble. Can't I just leave it?" Vaeryae gave him a look that was both pleading and desperate. She would be in trouble, just not for the reasons she told him, if he didn't go along with her charade. She was getting very desperate. Vaeryae quickly walked the rest of the way across the room and left the orange on the table. Having seen nothing to steal, she decided to make as quick an exit as possible.

"I'll just.. uhm, leave this then." Vaeryae assured the man and started for the door.

"Bah. Wot do ae owe ye sorry haed?" He asked as Vaeryae placed her hand on the doorknob, but the room suddenly exploded inward, or so it seemed to the unsuccessful thief, as she suddenly found herself quite on the opposite end of the room than she had wanted to be.

Her father, a large, red-haired man, filled up the doorway with his bulk.

Vaeryae had eyes only for her father. She whimpered softly and stared at him helplessly. Ignoring the other man in the room, her father hollered at his errant daughter, "what in the name of Raije are you doing in this room? So eager to turn to whoring?"

Taking exception to the accusation, the original occupant of the room interrupted the scene, saying "Wot did yae sae? Ae aem ah honest merchant fra' Nordmaar." Taking advantage of the distraction, Vaeryae scrambled to her feet and backed as far from her father as she could. "Noe ye go," the traveler continued, "Aen yer payin fer the damages ta mae room."

After a momentary glance and slight consideration of the other man's words, Vaeryae's father advanced on her and raised his arm to strike, telling the traveler, "This is none of your business. She's mine to discipline." Vaeryae crouched down on the ground and cowered against the wall, though she knew it would do her little good against her father's anger.

Muttering again to himself, the traveler started to sing, though neither Vaeryae nor her father were paying enough attention to note the words. A spirit rose up suddenly from the ground, taking form from the air around it. It was vaguely man shaped, and it turned to face the singer, or it would have, if it had a face. He commanded the spirit to drift between Vaeryae and her father with a nod.

Surprised by this new addition, and still quite drunk, Vaeryae's father paused to consider what to do next.

Frightened, but gaining confidence from her newfound ally, Vaeryae dared to oppose her father with words, "Why don't you just leave me alone? I'm not going to be your little toy anymore. Go find someone else!" The last part sounded more like a plea than a demand.

Vaeryae's father had started to draw his sword when a soothing song filled the room, originating from the traveling merchant from Nordmaar. It sounded faintly of a lullaby her mother-had she lived long enough-might have sang to Vaeryae. The sword clattered to the floor and Vaeryae's father soon followed. Just before she slipped into unconsciousness, the unsuccessful thief heard the man mutter, "bah," one more time.

She never did find out exactly what the man did while she was slumbering, but when a rooster's call beckoned Vaeryae back to reality, the spirit was gone. Her father was lying not far from her feet. He looked dead, or so she hoped.

"Raes aen shine, ye," Vaeryae's new ally said, not too kindly, when she had opened her eyes. "Wot es this all aboot?" He demanded.

Vaeryae chewed her lip, considering her options. She was hoping she could still get out of this-but she also remembered the man, too, had called on Raije. She didn't want to depend on him, so she lied. "N-nothing. That man.. he's clearly.. crazy."

Vaeryae looked down at her father again and a sudden urge to repay him for all the years of torment overtook her. Quite without thinking, she took two steps forward and kicked him, as hard as she could, in the sides. She glanced up at the other man, guiltily, and backed away from her father quickly, hoping she hadn't given him reason to doubt her lie.

"Ye know, ae coulda let im kill ye. Tell mae why ae shouldn' ave." He pressed, without any indication he had noticed what Vaeryae had done.

"Err.. I'm, uh.. just a serving girl. I was only here because you wanted fruit. It's your fault." Vaeryae patted herself on the back mentally, for thinking of that one. It's always better to blame someone else, she knew.

"Ae did nae ask fer blooy fruit aen ye know et." He said matter-of-factly, not falling for Vaeryae's ploy. Vaeryae suddenly realized she needed to get out of the room immediately, and tried to inch towards the door.

"Wot es yer naem? Wher be yae fraem? Assumin' yer a whore loike yer old man says."

Vaeryae stopped her retreat and glared defiantly. "I'm not a whore!" She replied hotly, "he doesn't know anything about me! I've never seen him before in my life!"

"Roight. Thaen ae shul juss waek 'em up aen ask im maeself, eh?"

Vaeryae's confidence dissolved completely. Not dead? "He's.. not dead?" Her voice, suddenly sounding very small and vulnerable, echoed her thoughts. She looked down at her father, whom she now noticed was breathing lightly, and started backing away again. She lost what little ground she had gained towards the door, but she was relieved to put some distance between herself and her tormenter.

"Nae. Aen e will bae preh'ee mad when e wakes up."

"He'll kill me." Vaeryae whispered, hugging herself tightly and trying not to tremble, much.

"Sa yae kin tael me whae ae ave been disturbed oer e kin." The man stated calmly, using the advantage he'd known he had all along, "ae ahm na convinced tha bae a bad thing. Ye coulda been ere tae blooy stick a sword in mae."

The suggestion that Vaeryae had meant to kill the other man was so unlikely that she momentarily forgot herself, and laughed bitterly. She was no warrior.

"Aye, 'ow did thae song guh... The Rooster's Crow, eh..." The man continued, ignoring her outburst.

"No, please," Vaeryae interrupted, crashing back to reality quickly, "I'll tell you whatever you want. Just let me leave before he wakes up, please."

Vaeryae glanced between the man and the door, before giving her answer. "I didn't know there would be anyone in here." Would the devonites have followed her in? Vaeryae couldn't decide if she should hope they had or not. She didn't know what would be worse, right now. Her heart sank; she suddenly felt with conviction that she was doomed, and it didn't matter.

"If ye leave ae waell waek 'em up," the man threatened calmly, noting Vaeryae's furtive glance, "an' tell im wha direction yae went tuh." Then, in response to her claim, he asked, "whae did yae say yae was offerin mae fruit?"

"I had to.. to take something." Vaeryae admitted the truth, as a last resort. Her lying hadn't gotten her anywhere, maybe he would take pity on the truth. "I had this orange, and I didn't want you to kill me.. I thought.. maybe I could get something, anyway.." Vaeryae trailed off, feeling certain he would kill her for admitting she would have stolen something anyway.

"Eh? Be yae a street urchin?"

"I'm not a beggar, if that's what you're thinking." Vaeryae said, crinkling her nose. She had her pride, after all.

"Aye, at laest beggers ask 'fore thae taek." He nodded and Vaeryae had the grace to blush, faintly. "Yae bae worse, ah gatherin. Whae did yae try ta steal frem mae?"

"It doesn't matter. If my father doesn't kill me when he wakes up, no doubt the others will." Vaeryae said with a sigh.

"Yae bae ah terrble thief if tha many people bae after ye," he muttered.

Vaeryae's father twitched in his sleep, startling his daughter. She glared at his body distrustfully.

"Look, it's nothing personal. I just thought there might be something valuable in here." Vaeryae felt like snarling at him. Would nobody understand?

"Who else might kill ye?"

Vaeryae didn't answer and glanced out the doorway. She wished they would come in and get it over with. This man, she was beginning to feel, could do much more harm than her father ever could. Even if she survived this encounter, she wondered if she'd want to live afterwards.

"Wael?" He said impatiently.

"I don't know their names, but I was supposed to steal something from this inn.. to prove myself."

"Aye, ahm tae bleve ye juss go rund provin yeself tae ooever appens tae walk bae." There was definitely a heavy dose of sarcasm in his voice, and Vaeryae realized for the first time how foolish she had been to join up with those men so quickly. She wiped her hands shakily across her pants.

"Why are you asking me all these stupid questions if you're not going to believe me? Why don't you just tell me whatever you think I'm here for and get it over with?" Vaeryae asked, growing more frustrated and upset.

"Ae think ye be ah omeless beggar tha someone paid tae kill mae."

"I ran away, but I'm not a beggar!" Vaeryae exclaimed hotly.

"Aye, an yer juss ere tae prove yeself tae people oos naems ye dun e'en know."

Screaming her frustration, Vaeryae threw her sword at the man. Although it fell several feet to the side and short of him, Vaeryae knew immediately that it was a bad idea. A very bad idea.

Glancing at her father's sleeping form, the traveler said, "et bae yer funeral."

"Sure et does, cause ye owe me noe."

"What, for getting me killed? Why couldn't you have just not been here, like you were supposed to?" Perhaps Vaeryae could have carried off the blaming a little better if it had not been for the desperate, whining tone to her voice.

"No no, fer elpin ye kill ye old man," he told her, quiet calmly, as if he were observing how nice the curtains were in the room.

"Kk-kill him?" Vaeryae said dumbly.

"Aye. Ae can't juss let im live now thae e as et oot fer me."

Vaeryae crossed her arms at her chest to control her shaking, but the man took no notice of her weakness and continued:

"So ahm figgerin, either ah elp im kill yae, oer ah elp yae kill im."

"If we both leave, he might just.. go home.." Vaeryae offered lamely.

"Aye, like e blooy well juss left ye alone awhile ago."

Vaeryae chewed on her bottom lip, at a loss for what to do or say. She couldn't quite believe this man was talking about killing her father. For as long as she could remember, she had suffered under his overbearing, unbending ideas about honor and being a warrior. She had suffered, almost daily, at the other end of his sword. In her sixteen years of life, the most significant things he had ever given her were broken bones. The only "present" she had ever received, was the gift of bruises instead of breaks; insults instead of cuts.

What did she owe this man?

Perhaps with less consideration than the situation warranted, Vaeryae came to a decision. He had given her no reason to love her in her life. In fact, Vaeryae was fairly certain that he had never felt a drop of kindness, let alone love, for his daughter in her entire life. Self-preservation won easily against such thin bonds of family.

"H-how?" She asked quietly. She may have decided to become a killer, but she didn't have the faintest idea how to be one. All of the things her father had ever told her about fighting came rushing back from the hidden depths of her memory, but it was all a confused jumble; she couldn't make out what to do.

"Eh?" The traveler said, misunderstanding her question, "Juss say oo ye wan' tae live more. Aen if et bae ye, ye owe me yer life." So caught up in her own inner turmoil, Vaeryae didn't take note of the man's veiled threat. She may have reconsidered her decision, had she realized that her father's death would not make her any more free.

"I mean.. how do I k-kill him?"

"I dunnae. Ow did ye plan tae kill me?"

"I wasn't planning to kill anyone." Vaeryae responded distractedly, still wading through her own thoughts. She looked down at her father, who was flailing around occasionally. He seemed to be in the grip of some terrible dream. Vaeryae suddenly wished she were the one who was dreaming.

"If yer nah ah whore, which ae still bae doubtin' meself." The man continued, as if Vaeryae hadn't spoken.

The jibe woke Vaeryae from her morose ponderings. "I'm not a whore and I'm not a beggar," she told him, but with considerably less energy than she had before. Slowly and inexorably, she was losing her will to oppose this man. Wouldn't it just be easier if she gave up, did what he said, she asked herself. Besides, she reasoned, I'm not smart enough to make these kinds of decisions.

"Wha, me frien?" He asked, and Vaeryae nodded. "Ye bae blooy nuts. Ah swear, sing a song bout me frien an suddenly ye bae thinkin et's real."

A sudden movement at her feet reminded Vaeryae of the urgency of her decision. She willed herself to get her sword and .. and stab him somewhere. She knew that the heart was a good place to start, but what if she missed? If she didn't kill him quickly, he'd probably wake up madder than before. He'd probably wake up and kill her without even thinking, like swatting a fly.

"C-can't you do it?" Vaeryae asked, looking over at the other man hopefully. He sounded calm enough about killing, maybe he'd done it before. After all, what could killing a stranger mean to a killer?

"Ye wan' mae ta bae a murdrer fer ye sake? Ahm na gonna da tha, specially fer ah whore." If Vaeryae could have seen beneath the hood coverin the man's face, she would have seen his sneer. As it was, the words were enough to push her over the edge. Her eyes filled with tears and she looked down at her face, stubbornly refusing to let them fall, or to let him see her moist eyes.

"I'm not a whore," Vaeryae insisted quietly, but without the same confident defiance she had displayed before.

"Ye sure cannae do anythin else right," the traveler growled.

There was, of course, only one decision she could really make. Although not quite blind to the danger the other man in the room represented, the threat of her father was more immediate.

"Alright.. alright." Vaeryae spotted her sword across the room and started towards it, keeping an eye on the traveler at the same time. She could hear her father muttering in his sleep; she hastened her steps. His neck was vulnerable, she finally remembered. She could kill him that way.

"Remember. When yae da thaes, yae owe me ye life," he reminded her as she bent to retrieve her sword from the ground. "Aen ah ave ways a makin et so tha ye keep ta et."

"How are you going to stop the ones waiting outside?" Vaeryae asked, wondering how much her life would be worth to her if she didn't live once she left the inn.

"If ae decide ae care, thaen ae'll da somethin," he said with an unconcerned shrug.

With a resigned sigh, Vaeryae returned to her father's side. She stared down at his face for several minutes, until his increased movements prompted her to raise her sword. Vaeryae glanced over her shoulder at the other man, begging with her eyes that he should stop her, change his mind, and find another way. There was no sympathy in his stance; he made no move to stop her.

She returned her eyes at his face and dropped the point of her sword towards his neck at the same time. She realized with a shock that his eyes were open and looking directly at her. Before she had any time to react, the weight of the sword pulled itself downwards, burying itself into his neck. Her father gurgled and clawed at his neck, but to no effect. It had gone clean through and was stuck fast to the floor beneath him. With his final moments, he quit struggling and looked his daughter directly in the eyes. Vaeryae would have liked to imagine she saw forgiveness and understanding, perhaps even regret for what he had done.

There was only hatred and disgust in his eyes. It was a look she would remember for a long, long time.

"Nae, that bae ye," the traveler quipped in response.

Vaeryae let go of the sword, still buried into her father's neck, and backed away from the body. A growing pool of blood was still gushing out of the wound, though the flow had slowed since the last flicker of life had fled from the man's eyes.

"Yae worthless parricide," he continued in a condescending tone, "lookit me. Ae own ye noe."

Staring at the corpse of her father was beginning to unnerve Vaeryae, but she couldn't quite bring herself to meet the eyes of her salvation and her doom, either. She let her eyes slide safely to a point just in front of her feet, that was not marred by the horror of her father's blood or the other man.

"Lookit me," the man said again, with terrifying calm. It reminded her of the times her father would be just on the edge of exploding into rage. Terrified, she took a deep breath and looked up at the traveler.

"Ever seen sa much blood?" He asked, "eh? Ye coward?" Vaeryae could only shake her head wordlessly without looking back down at the cooling blood.

"Noe ae waell splain ow ae own ye." The merchant said, but Vaeryae was beginning to think he was no merchant at all-what kind of merchant wanted to own someone else?-but when Vaeryae thought of the answer, she felt chilled. A slave trader, of course. Rubbing her hands on the front of her pants, Vaeryae tried to dry her sweaty palms.

"I'm n-not a whore," Vaeryae stated again, with fear.

"Wat, ye think ae woul want ye as a whore? Ae dunna bae scum like ye." He assured her. She was too busy being relieved that she would not suffer -that- indignity to be offended at being called scum. Besides, she had killed her own father, perhaps she deserved it.

Vaeryae recognized the threat, the complete power he had over her now, and cursed herself for doing what he wanted. She should have run away. Certainly her father wouldn't have killed her. Part of her wished she could be sure, the other part was glad of the question. At least as long as there was a question, she could try to justify what she did.

"Secon," he continued, without wanting or waiting for a response, "ef ae foin ou ye refuse tae da somethin tha ae order ye tae da, thaen tha curse aye put en ye when ye was asleep waell kill ye painfully."

Vaeryae gulped, thinking he must be some kind of powerful magician. She felt weak at the knees, but she kept herself standing, with some effort.

"Thir', once yae do die, yae da' waell bae thar tae beat ye fer eternity er wha'ever."

Vaeryae couldn't stand it any longer. She looked away, her shoulder slumping in total defeat. Her eyes became dull and dead. If that was what she had to look forward to, she had no desire to oppose this man. At least if he let her live, each day would be a day she wouldn't have to face her father again.

"Aen four," he finally came to the end of his list, "ae 'ave ways tha ae am nah e'en gonna taell yae, juss so ye dunnae thin' ye kin fin' any place tae bae alone oer safe. Aes lon' as yae listen tae mae, ae waell maek sure thae none a these things kill yae. But donna fool yerself inta thinkin tha ae care bout wat appens ta ye tha momen ye stop doin' as ae say."

Vaeryae accepted all this without question. She was beyond questioning. She had already measured her own worth and found it to be as low as this magician had said. And she didn't want to be hurt anymore.

The man, however, would no accept her defeat so quickly. There were still trials ahead for Vaeryae.

Strangely enough, Vaeryae thought, he wanted to know if anyone else knew her name. Vaeryae shrugged. The devonites and the man who had taught her-had it only been yesterday that she had run away to them?-knew her name, and of course her mother. But, as she told the man, no one who cared. He accepted her answer, perhaps never really caring what it would be.

"Nex, wat aer ye talents?"

Vaeryae didn't have to think long. "Patricide," she said immediately.

"Nae, ye did that lousy," he responded coldly, "wat else?"

Glancing at the corpse, thinking dead was dead but not daring to contradict her new "owner," Vaeryae simply shrugged, "Nothing, I guess."

"Bah," the traveler grumbled.

"He was.. trying to make me a guard," Vaeryae tried to explain, and glanced at the door, remembering. "They were trying to make me a thief." Vaeryae paused for a moment, thinking. "I'm no good at either," she finally concluded.

"A guard, eh? Fer ow long bae yae trainin?"

"I dunno.. He's been.. had been beating me around since I was little. 6 years, I guess. Maybe more." One beating always seemed like another. Time had passed very slowly since Vaeryae's "lessons" had begun. The monotony might have eventually killed her, if her father hadn't; except now, her father was dead.

Vaeryae shrugged, "he called it training."

"Ye ye bae blooy trainin since ye were six aen ye still cannae e'en 'old a sword right!" The man exclaimed, thoroughly disgusted, "wot kinda failure aer ye!"

"Maybe you should have let him kill me, instead." Vaeryae replied quietly, actually believing it.

"Nae," he said, sounding oddly pleased, "this way ae ave a slave."

"Okay, so juss tae maek things clear ere," the traveler said, taking little notice of Vaeryae's sudden collapse, "yae aer insane, canna learn, canna figh', canna steal, cry all over thae place, are ae parricide, aen aer ae liar... since ye canna e'en admit ye aer ae whore despite yer avin no talent anywhere else."

This time, Vaeryae was too defeated to protest. The thought occurred to her, briefly, but it was quickly pushed aside. It would be easier, she thought, to be as this man said she was-to be nothing, to have no thoughts no cares. It occurred to her that she might be dead, that her father had actually killed her when she thought she had "slept," and this was just whatever hell unbelievers went to. She liked that thought, and clung to it. Certainly it was better to believe this happened in hell than in reality.

"Ere is wat we aer gonn da with yae. Since ye aer obviously expendable..." he said matter-of-factly, "ye waell bae mae spy."

"Spy?" Vaeryae asked hesitantly, thinking it was an odd profession for a dead unbeliever. Perhaps she would be forced to "spy" on happy families, witnessing for eternity what she had always longed for and never been a part of. She couldn't make up her mind about whether that punishment would be better or worse than her father beating her for eternity.

"Ye aer na' tae mention me tae anyone fer any reason," he continued, ignoring her comment for the present, "If ye try, ye voice waell be loss' in thae wind aen ye waell ne'er get et again."

She wanted to know if she was to spy on someone specifically. Perhaps, she wondered, it would be the neighbors with the happy celebrations she had always secretly watched through a crack in the fence. It would be, at least, a familiar scene. Being dead, she decided, wasn't that bad. But the man wouldn't tell her who she was spying on.

"Ye waell become ae Shadow Knight, though. If ye da na' already worship Necrucifer, thaen ye wael start." He paused to watch her, when she didn't respond, he asked impatiently, "da yae?"

Vaeryae shrugged, thinking this odd. Certainly believers didn't end up in an unbelievers' hell. Her brief fantasy shattered and fell away. She might be in a hell now, but she was still on Algoron, which meant there was still worse to come.

"Waell yae will start. Put yer faec on thae floor aen praise Necrucifer," he ordered, "righ' now. Tell im yae donna be worthy a' 'im, 'cause yae donna."

Vaeryae glanced up, incredulously. "You want me to.. pray?" She had never prayed in her life and had never had the intention of starting. What could she possibly say? She remembered vaguely that you were supposed to be thankful in prayers-but for what did she have to be thankful?

"Aye, righ' noe," He confirmed, his voice turning to a threat in the next breath, "en ef ye donna soun' like ye mean et..."

Quickly, so as not to anger him further, Vaeryae knelt on the floor, lowering her face gingerly towards the ground, in a position she hoped looked.. prayer-like. She murmured inaudibly under her breath, hoping it would sound prayer-like. It was not, evidently enough. The man demanded she be louder, because he "din ear anythin"

Vaeryae mumbled, "Praise Necrucifer," trying to make her voice sound reverent rather than resentful.

"And...?" he prompted.

"Iamunworthy," she finished quickly.

"Of....?" he asked, unsatisfied, and moved closer to listen more intently.

Vaeryae muttered, "I am unworthy of you, Necrucifer. Praise Necrucifer," without quite managing to hide the disbelief and contempt in her voice, because the traveler suddenly jabbed her in the lower ribs viciously with the butt of his staff. The ribs, barely healed from the beating she had taken-was it only a few weeks? Her mind asked weakly-from her father, broke again.

The pain was unspeakable. Vaeryae screamed, nearly incoherent from the pain, and collapsed against the ground. Her breath was ragged and she struggled to remain aware. Her vision wavered, turned dark and light and dark and light; there were sudden flashes of light in the darkness that left her disoriented for several minutes.

"Tha es thae pain ah not bein' worthy. Yae will bes' remember et." He warned her, ignoring the noise and the full extent of her suffering. "Do ah ave tae teach ye ever again thae consequence a not bein' loyal tae tha Lord Necrucifer? Be clear with yae answer oer ae waell taek et aes ah 'yes'."

Vaeryae sucked in her breath and rolled onto her back. She knew it was important that she answered. "N-no.. you d-don't," she said falteringly, hoping that it was clear enough to satisfy him.

The words struck Vaeryae like a ray of hope. All she had to do to be free of those dreams was pray? It seemed so painfully simple. A small, mostly ignored, suspicious part of her mind wondered why this man would offer her such a treasure, but she asked anyway, "Praying will make them stop?"

"Ae didna say anythin 'bout makin em stop," he said coldly, shattering the dream, "yae aer worthless an deserve ery bad thing ye get."

Bitterness rose up on her throat, living a sour taste in her mouth. Seeing that dream fall away, gave rise to a small, dangerous defiance. "Then what difference..." Vaeryae muttered mutinously.

"Aer ye questioning me?" The traveler asked in a casual, off-handed manner. But Vaeryae wasn't fooled; she recognized the danger in that tone of voice. Her father's moods had displayed it often enough.

"N-no," she backtracked hastily, hoping that she could ward off his wrath. He seemed satisfied-barely-for the moment.

"Hm. Well, that is all for now," he said, his accent disappearing for a brief second. Vaeryae, lost in her misery and despair, took no note of it. The man cleared his throat, instantly realizing his own mistake, and repeated, "thae bae all fer noe, ae said."

Vaeryae vaguely understood she was being dismissed, but she was too hurt to move. The man was not at all happy about this.

"Waell, if yae go tae sleep ere, thaey waell fin' ye with the body." He warned her, but his voice didn't indicate any actual concern for her fate. Vaeryae sighed and struggled to rise. As she finally-painfully-made it to the door, he taunted her, "ye ave obviously fergot 'bout them fellows outside ye were talkin bout."

The unsuccessful warrior and thief turned slave was beyond caring. "What do you care." She muttered, leaning for a moment against the doorframe to gather her strength.

"Ye be mine. Same way ae'd care ef someone were tae taek me things." He said, his robes shifting slightly as his shoulders rose and fell in an unconcerned shrug, "taek care na, ye 'ear?"

Vaeryae sighed, laughed softly, and limped out of the room. Gingerly, she made her way down the stairs. Most of the patrons had left the inn in the time that had passed-except for a tall, muscular man, shrouded in the darkest corner, who took quiet notice of Vaeryae's slow exit from the inn. His companions, however, broke into whatever thoughts were forming about the amateur thief, and he didn't give Vaeryae a second glance.

She stepped through the door, and "them fellows" were indeed waiting.