Hi, it's Useli! This chapter took FOREVER! I must've written and rewritten this chapter ten times, and I really felt like there was no good way to introduce what I wanted to, but I finally settled on this. Rest assured, everything I do has a reason. Be sure to read and review!
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Nero approached the amazon slowly. "Illia, can you help me with this puzzle box?" he asks her, twisting it this way and that.
"Ask the thief," she responded curtly, focusing on the horse in front of her.
"Uh...o-ok." He turned from the apparently irritable amazon and approached the thief. Nizel, Kale and Atlas were all gazing at a map they had spread out across the top of a stump.
"Hey, Prince, can you give me a hint." He glanced up from the map at the boy. "And, uh..." The boy thief looks over his shoulder at Illia. "...why does Illia seem so angry?"
"I don't know," replies Atlas, taking the puzzle from the boy, and turning it a few times. "Maybe she just needs some space?" Nero looks from the thief to back at the amazon.
"She seems really upset with you."
"Why would she be mad at me? I don't think I did anything to upset her." He tossed the puzzle box back to the boy and crossed his arms. Nero looked down at the box, turning it over and over again in his hands and drawing a blank as to the next move.
"Well, what'd you say to her?"
"The last thing she asked me about was Ella, and she hasn't spoken to me since." The boy turned his head up in thought and Atlas knelt down. "What? You know something?"
"Hmm...are you sure you didn't do something else?"
"Not that I can think of." The boy shoves the puzzle box into the satchel at his hip and crosses his arms as well. "Sometimes people just need a little space."
"Heh, maybe she's jealous." Atlas starts laughing and stops when Nero doesn't. "I'm serious. You were talking about someone who you used to be with and now she's upset."
"Nero, I can count the number of amazons I've ever met and spoken with on ONE hand, so that's not a lot. But it's a known fact that amazons don't hold relationships with men."
"Miss Illia is different, Prince."
"I'll concede that point, but--"
"We should be moving on," calls Illia. "We've wasted enough time here." Nizel and Kale nod, packing the map up and heading towards their mounts. It only took a few moments for them to set back on the path.
Nero's words stuck with the Prince. Was she truly jealous? It was hard to believe, but didn't seem entirely out of the realm of possibility to Atlas.
She had agreed to travel with him so easily, nursed him back to health despite having rescued him and squared their debt in the first place.
'Maybe there might be something to this?' silently wonders the Prince...
- - -
The world was silent...covered in a blanket of thick snow. The flurries floated down slowly, dancing this way and that at the mercy of the ever changing wind. It crunched beneath
his boots as he slowly turns to gaze around the city.
Bathed in the glow of the full moon it sparkled so brilliantly, so beautifully. It seemed so familiar, but he couldn't recall the
name. The buildings were different then any city he could recall.
"Come, child," sounded an ethereal voice from behind.
He whirled around to face an alter. Shrouded in the darkness, a woman's silhouette beckoned, urged him closer and closer still to her. "Who are you?" questions the thief, slowly approaching. He could make out nothing more then her eye's, which seemed to sparkle more brightly then the most brilliant amethyst he'd ever seen.
He had no reason to trust this figure...but the oddest feeling of complete safety over took him as he drew near. He felt as safe around her as a newborn in it's mother's arms. "Where am I?"
He could almost hear the woman smile. "You know this place. It is as familiar to you as the beating of your own heart." He stopped several feet short of the alter like structure and
the woman. "The path you tread is riddled with dangers, child. Some obvious...and others not so much."
"Who are you?"
"I am the one you have always sought since first you drew breath." He opened his mouth to respond and the woman held up a single hand, effectively silencing the thief. "Seek me out, and I shall answer all your questions."
"Where are you?"
"Your heart knows the way even if you do not. It will guide you forward to me as it has always urged you to do, Atlas." His eye's widened a bit in surprise at the use of his name.
"How do you--"
"I know well the names of all my children." He slowly holds up his hand to gaze at the silver ring upon his finger and then back at the woman shrouded in darkness.
"Are you...am I...?" There was a sparkle of amusement in her eye's as he fumbled with his words.
"You shall have your answers when we meet. Until that time, I bid you...take this." She stretched out a hand from the darkness, clutching a beautiful dagger with a glimmering
amethyst set in the pommel. He was rather skeptical but approached anyway. "It is, after all, rightfully yours..."
- - -
Atlas woke with a start. The thief leaned up quickly. He slowly scanned the area, finding himself no longer in a snow covered city, but a small clearing in the forest. "Whew,"
breathes the Prince. "What a strange dream." Something clatters to his immediate right and he looks down. His eye's widen in absolute surprise as he stares at a dagger. "What the..." He reaches down and picks up the weapon. "I-Impossible."
"Unh, Prince?" questions a tired voice. Atlas jumps, hides the dagger behind his back and looks over at Nero. The boy slowly sits up and rubs his eye's. "Is it time to get up?" The Prince shakes his head.
"No. Go back to sleep." The boy nods and lays back down. Atlas stands and wanders a few yards away from their camp, gazing at the glossy black sheath of the dagger. 'It's impossible. It was only a dream,' the Prince tells himself silently. He grips the handle. 'It feels real enough.' Drawing the weapon free of the sheath he looks over the weapon slowly. It looked real enough, as well.
He scraped a thumb across the edge of the blade and recoiled immediately, looking in amazement at the thin line of blood it had drawn from just the slightest contact. "Hmph...no way is THIS going in my boot." He returns the weapon to it's sheath and releases a heavy sigh. "I must be going completely mad," mutters the thief.
"Atlas," came a voice from behind. He jumped at the female voice and turned immediately. At his aggressive move, Illia responded with a grip on the hilt of her sword. "What are