Ale house! Attention James--again. *RETRO*

[Sam]

Emelia adored the softness of her boots. They had come at a heavy expense, but they had been worth each and every steel piece. They felt good against her feet, and were one of the few luxuries she allowed. They were piceous, not for any fashion predilection, but for the sway of economy. Anything could be obtained in such a colour, and at any quality for any price. At a distance fashion was irrelevant and all garments looked the same. On this particular occasion her ensemble consisted of; simple leggings, tunic, a heavy leather jerkin, pigskin gloves and a riding cloak--all black.

 

Today she had dressed up a little, to celebrate the closure of her latest expedition. Mercenary work was fetching. All that freedom. All that opportunity. All that heat . . . . The weather was not cool; her forehead was damp with sweat, but she did not mind the temperature, for stray breeze felt terrific against her skin. It was good to be in the city once more. She sighed and murmured to herself. There was no time to dally . . . but ale would be nice.

 

Emelia seated herself as close to the hearth as she could. Easy enough for that time of day. It was not busy, so much as steady. The ale was watery, average at best, but she could bear it. There was no time to venture for replacements. The impulse to raze the ale house in retaliation was strong, and she placed her gloved hands against her cheeks to hide the mounting blush. Regaining her composure, Emelia removed her gloves, and imagined the flames of the hearth were nestled against her finger-tips.

 

It had been a master ploy: align herself with a group of sellswords, strike a merchant train and divide the spoils. Turning on the sellswords afterward had been a whim: a richly rewarding whim. There had been too much wealth for her to shoulder alone, so concealing the rest beneath the ground had seemed the wisest choice. Later she would return, or not. A hidden trove was useful. If someone by chance discovered it she would only find more.

[Wayfarer]

Looking to Zahiya and then to Ahla, Sera frowned as she took into account what news her Kin had given her. Her quarry had resurfaced within the city itself and found her way to the nearest tavern to no doubt celebrate her latest atrocity. Emelia, the object of Sera's hunt for several years now. Often stealing the names of her victims, Emelia was the most commonly used name that the murderess utilised when passing through different settlements or dealing with peddlers and the like on the road. Those that she didn't burn with the casual indifference that one might use when feeding wood into the fire that was.

 

Nodding to her companions, Sera stood and led them out of the small house they had occupied for the past month as they had hunted Emelia and out into the bustle of the street. Despite having lived in Arad Doman all her life as far as she remembered, she always tended to feel slightly out of place. Unlike her companions that were blessed with copper skin and full figures, her pale skin and larger than life eyes meant she stood out in the city wherever she went. Yet Bandar Eban was always awash with foreigners who came to trade, so it didn't cause the looks that one would find in the smaller towns and cities through Arad Doman.

 

That was one of the reasons that Emelia had been so difficult to find, even if she was a foreigner, the cosmopolitan nature of Bandar Eban meant that many overlooked those whose appearance and manner were different from the norm. Like a woman in breeches and in the guise of a mercanery appearing in a taproom and having her fill of their beer to toast to the embers she had left in her wake. Light but she hoped this would be the last time she would have to do this, the woman had evaded her so many times in many a narrow escape that Emelia surely had the Dark One's own luck.

 

The last time, no more.

 

By the time they reached the tavern that Emelia had taken residence in, Sera had become aware of something that made her want to grind her teeth. The woman was holding the one power inside the tavern, enough of it that she could feel it outside in the street. The mere thought of an Aes Sedai walking by and feeling it made Sera's head hurt. Taking a deep breath, Sera considered multiple courses of action. She wasn't allowed to kill Emelia unless it became necessary and her mind immediately shied away from the thought. There was always the chance of talking Emelia into coming with them but those chances were on par with that of finding snowflakes in the Blight.

 

She would run, Emelia always did. Reaching out and touching the arms of the pair of women with her as she embraced saidar, a moment later she had claimed the links that they had offered in order to augment her own powers. Emelia would know they were there now, but she couldn't feel the woman shifting away from her, the power emanated from the same point. Waiting for them then.

 

Pushing the door open and leading the way in, there was no rush in their movements as they made their way over to Emelia. It wasn't difficult to find her, she was always where the flames were to be found and in this case she was by the hearth that was burning away even though it was the middle of the afternoon. Not that Emelia even deigned to look at them, instead she was paying attention to her right hand as it traced its way along the arm of her chair, whisps of smoke and blackened wood marking its passage. Everything had been said before, but no doubt it would be said again.

 

Taking a seat next to Emelia, Sera didn't watch as Zahiya and Ahla fetched themselves chairs from the nearby tables so they could sit with her. Not that Sera said anything, she never did as she simply watched Emelia and waited for her to speak as she crossed her knees and rested her hands in her lap. After all, Emelia knew full well that there would be consequences if she took too long to acknowledge her.

 

 

Sera

Kin

[Sam]

Emelia smiled. She was safe here. Patrons were her defence, and she had the advantage. Subduing her in the open would be their last resort; there was no desire to induce that scenario. She would be shielded; the patrons would burn. Emelia wrested her mind from the image before . . . her hands came together on the table top, and she bit her lip in a rare moment of shyness. She raised her eyes, the genuine smile encompassing her guests the first outward acknowledgement of their presence.

 

"Sera--unexpected--and you brought guests! Please. How rude of me. My name is Emelia," she rose unthreateningly and offered a fevered hand. "No? Ah." Sitting: "Sera: how have you been?--Had I known, I would have dressed proper." Silence was the response. "After all we've been through, you won't even introduce your friends? Not even a hello?" Feigned hurt followed by pleasant laughter. "Forgive my poor taste. Allow me to buy a round of ale, it is the least I can offer."

 

She signaled a serving girl. Presently three large mugs of ale were set before the trio. "Please. Share a drink with me." Emelia raised her own drink to her lips, replacing it when not a whisper of moment came from the other end of the table. "You will not even drink with me?" Sigh. "Then . . . ? Oh. That." Pleasant voice reflecting a sour note. "We have spoken about thi--Mercenary band? I don't know what you're talking about." Face colouring slightly. "You cannot prove I had anyth--don't you accuse me! I only wanted some ale!"

[Wayfarer]

Narrowing her eyes as Emelia rolled out her friendly act, Sera didn't move as the woman offered her hand. Likewise ignoring the drink she was furnished with, it wasn't long before the woman dropped pretenses. She knew why they were here, more murders and more blood spilt with the one power, something that was and remained intolerable. Her latest attrocity, at least ten were dead and yet still she did not stop, her bloodlust unsated. Cutting off Emelia's protests with a raised hand, Sera closed her hand into a fist except for her index finger. Waving it before her, she then crooked the finger and pointed to herself and her companions.

 

“No! I won’t! I invite you to eat with me. I invite you to drink with me. I have been polite; I have been courteous and all you can do in return is try to drag me off because you think that is where I should be. I was doing you a favour! You should be thanking me. Who knows how many people they would have killed if I hadn’t . . . oh.”

 

Emelia blushed and lowered her eyes. She remained silent for many minutes, uncomfortable under Sera’s calm stare. She felt the hearth fire’s heat warm her cheek; caress her face and sooth away her discomfort. Finally she smiled. “I won’t go.”

 

Frowning at the woman, it was hardly the first time Emelia had been unwilling to do things the easy way. In fact, Sera had been hunting her for five years and every single time she tracked Emelia down it was always the same. She'd ask Emelia to come with them, Emelia would refuse, Emelia would use innocents and witnesses as a shield and somehow give them the slip. But not this time, if Emelia wanted to push then Sera would push back. Pointing to the table, Sera tapped it several times with her index finger.

 

Emelia’s adopted a tone of weariness: her speech, her expressions and her gestures. Futile: there would be no resolution here. She did not really want to burn the inn to the ground because she was wearing her new boots and did not want to see them dirtied. She would perforce, and relished the fact that she could immolate most everything before being successfully shielded.

 

It was not the first time Emelia decided that killing Sera would have been much easier for her in the long run. For some reason she never had, and now she lacked the strength to overcome the combined glow of saidar from across the table. If the worst happened she would always have her sword.

 

Emelia closed her eyes and felt the warmth of the fire waiting to receive her. She smiled and let it touch her flesh. There was no inn, no table; only Emelia alone with sensation. She shivered as the warmth began to spread across her body, skin pricking with excitement, breath beginning to quicken.

 

Watching as Emelia began to ignore them, the five years of experience Sera had with her meant she knew exactly what to do. Reaching over and touching Zahiya's arm, the other woman knew what to do as she left their company for the kitchen and returning after a couple of minutes with a bucket of water. Giving Zahiya a nod as Emelia continued to ignore them, the splash and hiss of the fireplace being doused was more than enough to bring Emelia back to the world. Smiling ever so slightly, Sera tapped the table again with her finger.

[Sam]

The flame would guide her: mother, brother, sister, father . . . lover. The heat would cherish, nurture, clothe; feed. A wind of warmth tantalised: rising from the ground, engulfing her; flowing through her with each rhythmic breath . . . her lungs imbibed with fiery communion. She felt it against her neck, sensual and seductive; whispering in her ears; cradling her body in a tender embrace. Her body was stained pink with flush, limbs encased by a film of sweat.

 

A squall: lighting flashed, thunder boomed; a violent surge of wind swept; rain fell. The fire extinguished leaving only ruin to comfort her. The bitter wind stole the heat from her body and tossed ash into the air; causing her teeth to chatter and her eyes to sting. Icy rivulets of water ran in small streams down her body and she whimpered with the cold. Her hair was soaked, splayed across her bare shoulders. She looked around for succour but she could not see for the brilliant outbreaks of light. A pathetic moan escaped her quivering body as she attempted to bury herself with the muddy ash to find release from the cold . . . release from the cold.

 

Emelia gasped. For a moment she looked lost and afraid as the vestiges of hallucination faded from her mind. She squared her shoulders, eyes narrowing; hardening, and panted while trying to regain her composure. The strain of her self-control was displayed by the curled fingers biting into the wooden table. She remained seated, motionless but for the rapid rise and fall of her chest until her lungs had returned to their natural rhythm. When finally she spoke her voice was strangled, and the exposed veins at her throat evinced grand effort.

 

"I am leaving. Do not follow me."

[Wayfarer]

That got her.

 

The impact of what had been done had registered all too clearly on Emelia's face and even her manner. It was a simple manipulation and a simple gamble, but it had clearly paid off as the woman stood after her strangled words barely escaped her. Sera was acutely aware of the risk, but they couldn't leave Emelia where she was, she needed to be pushed elsewhere. With luck they could corner her somewhere that she didn't have any human shields, no one to hide behind and overwhelm her there without the risk of exposure or innocents being caught in the crossfire.

 

Standing even as Emelia made her way to the door, Sera made her way out with her companions in tow. All they needed to do was follow the trail Emelia would leave and her glow. Even as they stepped into the street, the feel of saidar guided Sera as she made her way towards the main market, no doubt Emelia had thought to seed herself amongst the crowd and disappear from there. Not if Sera had anything to do with it, she was sick of hunting the woman. All they'd need to do wa-

 

Stopping in her tracks, Sera would have cursed if she was capable. The market was overflowing with people and to make matters worse, Emelia had released the one power and with that their beacon was gone. Following would be like trying to brave reefs in the blackest night without a lighthouse to show them the way.

 

So be it.

 

Releasing saidar, Sera gestured for her fellows to split up. Only one of them needed to spot Emelia, whoever did could then get the attention of the others by grasping saidar to lead them to her location. Stepping into the crowd, Sera looked upon all the different faces that swam before her as she tried to pick Emelia out.

 

It ended today.

 

 

Sera

Kin

[Sam]

My . . . but her boots were soft. A small piece of paradise in each step she took, padding unobtrusively behind Sera. The warmth in her eyes intensified, as though they eyes would light fires. In secret she watched, and the secret watching filled her with pleasure. Every movement, nuance and breath of Sera was recorded; Emelia only wished she could see more clearly, but the caress of saidar would bring her downfall. She would have to be cautious . . . for a time.

 

Several times she froze, only to have shifting gazes betray a lack of espial. Her first move had been to change clothing, and she now wore a bright, embroidered cloak: by virtue of being conspicuous, she became innocent. One could not help but feel clever, when pursuers moved through the throng, unaware that danger had chosen to follow instead of lead. Already the three were separating, drifting further and farther apart. The prospect of the future began to stir the fire within; once more she would offer herself up the flames. Herself, and others.

 

At last . . . Sera turned moving to a less populated area. Why she would do so was unclear, and Emelia moved cautiously. It would not do well to be ensnared by a well prepared trap. Bravado and blasé aside, Sera had surprised her before and the reinforcements hinted at alluded to a new determination.

 

Her fingers brushed absently against stone buildings as she came close, enjoying the sensation. Sera was alert and tense, but her awareness was focused ahead and not behind. That was her folly. Silently as possible, Emelia pulled a long knife from the waist of her trousers. It was time for the game to end.

 

Too late Sera heard the sound coming from behind her. Emelia pushed her into the stone side of a building, satisfied with the thump of a head colliding. No serious damage, but enough to stun her momentarily. Sera only had to grasp at the source once and the advantage would be gone. Emelia forced her into an almost intimate embrace, slipping the knife between them and aiming it at the other woman’s chest. That was better.

 

“If I even think you are considering drawing, I will stab you. No. Don’t speak. Please. Just remain silent. I prefer it that way.” Her tone was one of gentle humour; her composed softness had returned, and she was happy enough to keep the exchange genial for as small a time as it would be. “You have been chasing me for some time now, and I have decided to give you something. Yes. I will take you from here, to where no one can stop me, and I will show you the beauty of the fire.”

 

Her mouth opened as if to speak, when she heard a footfall to her left. Instinctively she pressed harder into Sera, grabbing her hair and pressing their mouths together. Her eyes blazed and she began to feel her skin temperature rise. The passerby must have become uncomfortable for the footsteps hastened.

 

Sera was warm, and Emelia felt as though she was standing before the inferno. Her flesh burned and her heart began to race. In her mind she stood embraced by the fire, its touch: intimate and loving. She reached out a hand to the flames, but her against her palm she felt a pulse, softness and a yielding so unlike the fire that consumed her. It was repulsive and enticing and she began to lose herself. The air came alive with saidar; every fibre, and every cell in her body awakened. Steam began to rise from her hands and face as she surrendered to her passion.

 

With a gasp and a mental wrenching, Emelia forced herself at arms length. She stared at Sera incredulous and panting. She had never lost herself in such a way before, and a small part of her feared, for it was the second time in one day that she had been unable to control it. She released saidar but knew the damage had already been done. They would come, and she would be overwhelmed.

 

Her features shifted into a rare expression, and she forced the point of her knife into Sera’s stomach. The other woman gasped, and her hands latched onto Emelia’s. Emelia crooned softly as Sera began to sway and then slump, stroking her hair and face; making sure she did not simply fall. She deserved more than the cold earth. Emelia removed her newly purchased cloak and spread it out over the stunned woman, to cover the wound. Without a second glance she moved quickly away and disappeared into the city.

 

OOC: Finally finished. Going to sleep now. I've been waiting to stick you for *years* James, who ever thought this would be how it'd turn out? :P

[Wayfarer]

Pain blossomed from her stomach to every inch of her body as Sera reached for the hand that bore a knife slick with her blood. Falling heavily onto it and into Emelia instead, it was Emelia's arm that steadied her as she collapsed. A hand stroking her hair, a thumb rubbing her cheek, softly spoken words assuring her that she would be alright even as her back touched the cobblestones. Blinking as she tried to bring Emelia back into focus, something slipped over her and then the face was replaced with the sky framed by the buildings surrounding her.

 

Someone was kneeling over her now, but her vision was blurry. Trying to sit up, she felt a hand shove her back down and then ice. The cold winds on the border to Saldaea didn't even come close to the feeling that swept through her, cleansing her and wiping away the mark of violence that had been placed on her. Arching and hissing as her breath escaped her, it was over in a moment and left her gasping for air as she curled up inward into a ball.

 

No time for that though.

 

Feeling an arm loop under each of hers, Sera was able to see that her companions Ahla and Zahiya were leading her away from the market. Emelia had gotten away again! And she ha- Sera shook her head weakly as she was led away, she refused to think upon what Emelia did to her. The look on her face right before she had stabbed her, what she did before that look, all of it, she just wanted to blank it so it had never happened. Thats exactly what she would do, as soon as she could banish that face from her mind.

 

 

Sera

Kin