The shroud had yet to extend to the province of Dunmeath. The ruins of the province's capitol proved a substantial base for their various operations in tandem with protection from the rays of illumination. The remnants of the city was coming alive with the coming of dusk. The thin threads of the sun's fingers lowering beyond the mountain ranges like wisps of broken spider webs drifting in the breeze had become the signal for work to begin. It was a mixture of differing recoveries. Taking those mortals still within hiding to the farms of Anderstel, while wolves were dug up and put to the axe, further more the restoration of the buildings' integrity to make the place habitual once more in the preparation for citizens to move in. The reigns of control were still being debated, a consultation of the queen's advisors and vassals no doubt squabbling over their chances to prove their merit.

It could prove quite the difficult task to remain in authority of the fort. It had little natural defenses, its main threat to their forces being that of the sun and the brute strength and ferocity of its protectors. Let alone it's position and the scale of both armies vying for its real estate. His attention drifted from the marked war map, darting in time with the scurrying form that had snared his attention. Predatory senses based upon the faintest of movements had instinctually honed in on the motion, of the petite figure crouching lowly to the earth as if it sought to hide.

Another refugee, perhaps? Though it was uncommon to find them scouring for the remnants of supplies alone. Let alone caught out by the moon when they knew their newly appointed overlords to be the most active. Perhaps it was simply a thrall, seeking to escape the confines of their new owner, a concept he wasn't entirely found of and yet the society which dominated and thrived had clarion disregard for the treatment of such specimens. The book of reports he had idly been scanning for sign of any counter attack audibly snapped closed with the brief pressure of his finger tips, being placed upon the table next to the clearly detailed markings of the surrounding area.

Descending the stairs, he was quick to follow the path he had seen the presumed stowaway take, eager to return them before their disappearance was noted and a punishment could rile. After all, many of those present could be quite.... volatile. Much to his dismay. Tense nerves made the inflammation all the more noticeable - all the more flammable. "Where have you gone?" He spoke aloud, coming to a halt in the center of where he had last seen the fleeing figure. "I'll be cross if you make me search for you." Blunt. Dismissive. Truthful.

"I'll be gone for a few days on work-related affairs."  He cautioned while I nearly inhaled the sugared pear and cinnamon dressed oats.  "You'll get an allowance to tide you over while I'm away." It wasn't unusual for Mr August to be gone for days at a time.  His work could be quite demanding, requiring more of his attention than he liked.  Often I wondered if he even enjoyed being a mercenary over the various countless forms of employment that existed in our region.  I tried to imagine him as a farmer and instantly shunned that idea away.  Then I thought of him pitching sales on soaps, then shirts, and finally concluded that neither seemed to fit the image of my caretaker that I'd manifested.  A sigh wandered from my mouth as my feet continued on this aimless path.  It'd been too nice a day to stay cooped up in the house, alone, pondering what types of professions Mr August could excel at.  Ajax had suggested a stroll around the gardens.  That's where my journey had started, looking at the fresh buds of flowers that were basking in the spring sun and the warming weather.  Before I knew it, I was far away from home. My first intention was to turn around, but in doing so I became even more lost and filled with panic.  A few days had passed and I could feel the familiar grind of hunger churn within my stomach.  I'd finally managed to find a sign of civilization and wandered to it, hopeful that I could find some manner of assistance.  What I did find, however, set my skin to quiver.  A man whose presence was unnerving, threatening.  Just catching a glimpse forced every hair on my body to stand on end as if they knew some great secret that I did not.  I hid like a mouse in the wall.  Tucked away behind boxes, hopeful that he hadn't seen me.  I should have known, though, that hope didn't exist.  I knew better than that.  He spoke and all I could think of was staying still.  I was afraid.  A lost, scared little girl.  Still I obeyed his command and slowly slunk forward, cowering within myself and actively avoiding looking directly into his face.

 
The sound of their heart was that of crashing rain upon tin. So thinly spaced and out of time that it seemed almost like a constant drumming within his ears. A beacon of rampant noise he could easily follow, far better than the scattering of their tracks within the loose churn of the dirt. Ground destroyed by the flames of war. A civilization reduced to ruins only to be rebuilt to begin anew, as something else, as a means to fit another dream that differed greatly from the prior owner. The same fantasies that no doubt harbored within the desperately fluttering wings of the mortal whos direction his stare had slowly drifted towards albeit the rest of his countenance and frame remained wholly still.

One.

The mental count begun, and he wondered how long they would remain pressed into the crevice of the fallen in home. One that the memoir of its destruction no longer touched his thoughts. It seemed such a short time ago that he aided in leading the assault, and yet the falling of each and every new age ruin escaped his grasp. In time without the restoration efforts, ivy and vegetation would reclaim the crumbling city. It would sink into the depths of history and be forgotten. One day, perhaps he would discover it again as if it were new, and if he did: would he remember this moment? Was this something that would be impressed within the clay? Something worthy? He held his doubts.

Two.

Another frightened, malleable survivor. Trapped in a world they even helped to create. Their minds just as feeble as their bodies. Seeking refuge in the arms and shields of base and lesser heathens. Deplorable instinct for survival what inevitably lead to the creation of their own downfall. The fear of death. The fear of being without power, perhaps as well. A root of evil that still ran deeply through the heart of those who had long abandoned the threads of their mortal coil. Those like the queen herself. An imitation of the woman she once was that still haunted the halls of her father's mansion before his killing. When he was trapped in a sewer and skewered like pestilent vermin. What was it that had so suddenly seemed to spur her onward if not that?

The very same that bid what came to be a girl to remove herself from the shadow of the collapsed structure. He continued to watch her from his peripherals until she came before him, her frame still carefully crumbling in on itself. As if she sought to be as small as the pebbles that piled next to her - remnants of a section of road. Her eyes did not dart to him in all of their ceaseless movement, nor did the turbulent staccato of her pulse slow or calm. "Stand up straight. Look at me when you speak." He advised, knowing not should she have in her possession some manner of concealed dagger clutched within the hands he could not see. It would not be the first attempt of such a thing, even children knew myth and tale enough to formulate such action. All animals were mad when driven into a corner when their survival became challenged. Just the same as the head of the Kaplan's.

"Where have you come from, and where is your owner?"

Obedience.  For years that's all Anna Lee had been capable of.  It was my body's way of surviving all that it had endured beneath the cruelty of man.  He'd told me what happened to the Anna Lee before me, how she didn't listen, how she had been found face down in the river months later.  When Hiram told me to stand still for hours on end, I barely breathed.  When I was told to scrub my blood off of the walls, I did so until my fingertips were red with soreness.  When this stranger told me to stand straight, my spine stiffened. I didn't want to listen to anyone anymore.  I wanted to be free like Mr August, I wanted to make my own choices.  What good they did, however, as I'd wound up lost and further from home than I initially thought.  "Look at me when you speak." I wasn't strong-willed enough to keep my eyes away from the imposing contours of his face.  I wanted to shrivel, to scurry like the mice in the alleyway.  I wanted to be small and invisible to the world, to this man most of all whose very presence made my skin crawl.  Familiar prickles, a whisper of instinct telling me to run - run and survive.  I never had been very good at running and this instance was no different.  I defaulted to what I knew and that was to obey the commands of those around me. "24 Mosestein lane.  Odersten."  My voice quavered, my ears burning with a distaste for the sound of my bemused, shaken voice.  "Owner?  I... don't have one."

She listened to him, to an unsettling degree. Most mortals who were ordered to do things offered resistance. A last stand of freedom, or so they thought. He watched her, silver stare keenly attentive as he searched her face intently for that sign. The waver of her stare. The nervous swivel of her vision. Anything that hinted that she would seek escape, or that she was merely bait for others to strike. He had been caught unawares by such a tactic before. When he was mortal, when he was green and inexperienced. He had lost many men that day. Good soldiers. Valiant and brave. Now, he didn't need those of high virtue. Now, he could maintain such raubble on his own. The good need not dirty their hands any longer. The brave and true need not die.  She didn't need to die.  He sought to lock his gaze with hers, though no manipulative arcane would flow from him. Instead, he would slightly lower himself until she could peer at him without raising her head. "Good. Then you will come with me. I will write a letter to your home. They will come and get you." He would await her response, if any, before raising to his full height once again. He would turn his back towards her, bidding her to follow.  "Until your family arrives, you will stay with me. Do not leave my side unless I explicitly tell you to. Otherwise, I cannot promise you will live until your family arrives." Should she comply, he would lead her back towards the citadel from which he had seen her. "Move quickly. Night is falling and the others will wake soon."

Jahi - imagine the eyes are silver pls until i get home to change them uwu