The Prince of Thieves

None of them exchanged any words as they left behind Caligula for good. Nero leaned back against the Prince, fast asleep in the saddle. The boy was bundled up tightly in a thick traveling cloak, which had near become a necessity with the drop in the temperature.

Early morning light streamed through the forest in an attempt to beat back the frost that clung to every surface it could.

Atlas exhaled, his own breath visible in the cool air. 'Winter will be here soon,' the Prince tells himself silently. 'Hopefully we will have reached the desert by that time.'

He rubs his arms in an attempt to ward off the chill. "You should wear something other then just a vest," Illia tells him. "You're going to catch your death, Atlas." The thief smiles, mischief dancing in his amber eyes.

"I had no idea that you were so worried about me," teases Atlas. "I'm flattered." She shook her head in response to his teasing. "I will be just fine, Illia. Thank you for your concern."

"Yeah, thanks for the concern, lady," chimes Nero, shifting a bit in the saddle. "I'm not cold at all, either." Atlas and Nizel both laughed a bit.

"There is no point in complaining about things we cannot control," says Kale, adjusting his spectacles. "Nizel, what town can we expect to come upon next?"

"That would be Unda, at the edge of the desert," responds Nizel. "It will be a weeks time, maybe more. We'll spend much of that time crossing the Vulpus Plains. When we reach Unda, we'll need to gather as many supplies as possible there before we begin our crossing to Aer."

"How long will the crossing take?"

"Hard to say. I made the crossing with a caravan the last time. It was a fortnight, at a hard pace. That is, of course, assuming we do not encounter any of the roaming tribes or bandits. Barring any such incidents it may be more or it may be less depending on how hard we ride."

"We don't need to run our horses to death," comments Atlas, patting the neck of his black mount. "They've been rather cooperative considering the cold weather, wouldn't you agree?" Nizel nodded in agreement. "At any rate, I assume we'll be needing lighter clothes for the desert, right?"

"Yes, we will." An hour passed in silence and some warmth was beginning to return to the frosted world. Illia had drifted back to ride beside Atlas, the two not exchanging any words until the amazon broke the silence.

"What do you most remember about your childhood, Atlas?" asks Illia. The question caught him off guard completely. It wasn't that he didn't want to discuss his past it was that none cared to hear about it. The Prince simply shrugged in response. "There must be something."

"I...don't know," responds Atlas. "I remember plenty of things about my childhood, but none that are particularly interesting." He shifts his weight in the leather saddle, mindful of Nero reclining back against him. "Why are you suddenly so interested?"

"Humor me." A sigh escapes his lips and he looks over at her.

"Solitude."

"That is it? Solitude?"

"I was living on the streets. Not many people paid me much mind, so I spent a lot of time alone." Atlas sighs and looks away from her for a moment. "What about you? What do you remember?"

"Training. As far back as I can remember, I trained to be a soldier like everyone else."

"Tell me about your people, Illia."

"What do you wish to know?"

"How about you teach me your language?" Her brows knitted together in confusion. "What?"

"Why would you want to speak my language? Most everyone speaks Solarian. It is the language of trade."

"Why not?" Illia sighs a bit.

"It could take some time."

"It's a LONG way to Aer..."

- - -

Atlas squatted low to the ground and stretched out one leg against the ground before shifting his weight to that leg and stretching the other. He could feel the muscles tightening up after such a long ride and it irritated him.

"Atlas," calls Nizel, approaching him. "I didn't wish to say anything in front of the others, but...it appears we're being followed." Atlas stands and glances in the direction they had come from.

"You're sure?" asks Atlas, resorting to Nizel's own language. If Solarian was the language of trade, then Maeror was most definitely the language of smugglers.

Spoken by nearly all the tribes in the deserts surrounding Aer, it was a necessity to move things to and from places as quickly as possible. Atlas had learned enough from Nizel to get by in most ventures.

But he was by no means fluent in it's use. "Not completely...but I suggest that we stay on our guard." He nodded in agreement.

"What are you two speaking about?" questions Nero, looking between the two. "Is that Nizel's language?"

"Yes," responds Nizel, speaking so the boy could understand him. "Occasionally, I enjoy speaking in my own language...or else I might begin to get a bit rusty in it's use." He seemed skeptical to say the least but didn't say anything more on it. Atlas approached Illia, placing a hand on her shoulder and stepping around to speak in a low voice.

"Nizel believes we're being followed," Atlas informs her. "Have you noticed anything?" She glances back at him and shakes her head. "Huh." He meets her eye's. "I...want to thank you for yesterday. For helping me."

"I understand, Atlas," responds Illia. "The desire for revenge is a powerful thing to feel. But in the future...just ignore it. If you get killed then I'll have to kill whoever it was that killed you. That'll make more trouble for me, understand?" He flashed a grin and nodded.

"I had no idea that you cared so much. I'll definitely try not to cause you trouble...well, not much." Illia chuckled a bit, turning her attention back to her horse's tack.

To Atlas, she seemed happy. He couldn't have imagined her laughing when they first met, but now it seemed normal. She sensed him staring and she glanced back at him.

"Wha--" He leaned forward and kissed her. Normally, she'd have struck any male who attempted such an action without a second thought. But knowing that it was Atlas who was doing it made her feel...relaxed. He withdrew, a wily grin on his face.

"We were interrupted the last time...rest assured, that won't happen the next." Mischief danced in Illia's green eyes and she turned to face him, a smile appearing on her face.

"What makes you believe there will be a 'next time', Atlas?"

"Well..." He captures her hand and raises it to place a kiss on the knuckles. It was a kiss she felt all the way up her arm. "...you DID let me kiss you." Illia moves closer. Only inches separate the two now.

"To be correct, you did it without my permission. I'm not sure if I should be upset or not."

"You're not sure?" One hand slid around Illia's trim waist and pulled her into contact with Atlas. His free hand came up to her chin and turned her head upwards towards him. It was like both were in their own little world. "Maybe I should do it again so you can decide..."

"Hey, Prince!" calls a familiar voice. The two immediately separated and looked over at the approaching Nero. "Uh...are you two busy?"

"Not at all." Atlas smiled at the boy. "What's on your mind...?"

- - -

The crackling of the fire and the chirping of the crickets were the only two sounds that the boy thief could hear. After a day of traveling they had finally stopped to make camp and a chill was setting in.

Nero had bundled up in his thickest clothes, all things gotten for him by the Prince. He shifts his weight slightly, unable to find sleep. He was still for several moments before leaning up.

The Prince looks up from the fire at the boy. "You can't sleep?" asks Atlas, spinning a twig between his nimble fingers. Nero responds with a shake of his head, gathering his woolen cloak around him tightly. "Is there something bothering you, Nero?"

"Not...really," responds Nero, staring intently at the fire.

"Come now. Speak up." The boy thief squirmed under the Prince's amber gaze. "Nero."

"After...After we find this treasure...then what?" His brow creased in confusion. "Are we going to go our separate ways?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"You're planning to keep traveling...can I go, too?" Atlas flicked the twig into the fire.

"I'm planning to go to Majores. Do you know what's in Majores, Nero?"

"I don't care. I have no where to return to. No home to call my own." A look that Nero had never seen appears on the Prince's face. "Prince?"

"You can come with me if you wish to. I'll teach you everything I know, I swear." Nero flashes a big grin and nods. "Good. Now get some rest. We've got a long day tomorrow." Nero laid back down and Atlas continued to sit up, staring at the dancing flames from under his dark hood. "Home, huh...?"

- - -

They woke early, a fresh coating of frost clinging to the world. They broke camp and started on the path once again. By the time the sun was high into the sky, the tree's had begun to thin out and soon disappear all together. The group crested the top of a large hill and stared out across the Vulpus plains. "Mind the sky," Nizel informs them, as they slowly begin to descend the hill.

"Why?" questions Kale, suddenly very apprehensive.

"Grazing animals make their homes on the Vulpus plains and where there's large game, there's Griffins. So mind the sky." Atlas spared only a single glance skyward before returning his attention to the plains ahead of him. "I can tell that you are concerned, Prince."

"But of course," responds Atlas. "I would hate to be eaten by a Griffin, Nizel."

"Is there perhaps anything else that might stand in our path?" asks Kale. "Sea monsters? Dragons?" A wily smile appeared on Atlas' face and he looked over at the scholar.

"Not that I mean to compound the issue, but I've heard rumors that suggest dragons MAY make their home at the summit of Venators mountains." Atlas laughs at the look of dismay on the faces of both Nero and Kale. "It's just a rumor...but no reason to be any less mindful when the time comes. Always plan ahead." Illia clucked her tongue.

"Dragons and griffins...this little journey of ours just gets more and more dangerous," comments Illia. Atlas breaths deep and releases a loud breath.

"Looking at this open ground...it just makes me want to start running." The stallion snorted softly in response moments before he reared up. Atlas grunted and leaned further forward, squeezing his thighs against the horses flanks and then holding tightly. The moment all his hooves had returned to the earth he was galloping forward. "Damn it, Ezma!" Illia actually laughed at that.

"You might want to control your horse better, Atlas!" She spurred her horse forward, following after him at a full gallop. It soon became a contest of who was faster. Laughter sounded from Nizel as he watched them shrink into the distance.

Himself, Kale and Nero followed at a far more subdued pace. They had traveled far ahead of the others in their games and now were waiting for them to catch up.

Atlas strokes one side of Ezma's thick neck with a light smile. "Been quite some time since you've stretched your legs, hm, Ezma?" The stallion nudges his large head into the thief's head in response. Atlas chuckles a bit.

"That's a fine horse you have, Atlas," compliments Illia.

"Why, thank you. I raised him from a colt, and I neglected to ride him as much as I should have." Atlas chuckles and pats his neck. "Though, I don't feel that's an issue now."

"I suppose not." A strange singing suddenly reached their ears, causing them to look around for the source of the singing. As it turned out, it was coming from a lone man with long flowing hair, and a smile on his young face.

They had failed to notice him before...but there he was. His singing was in a different language, one neither recognized.

"Greetings, children," speaks the man, still walking slowly. "Very strange, seeing others out here."

"Indeed," agrees Atlas, watching him carefully from under his hood. The thief was very mindful of the man's hands. Finding someone alone in the middle of the plains without a horse was a rather strange occurrence. It was then that Atlas recalled Nizel's words of warning. Indeed, they were being followed. "A strange song."

"Hehe. I have been told as much. I...am Doran." He swept a extravagant bow to them both, his long hair brushing the ground as he did so. It was then that they both noticed a feature that they supposed would normally have been hidden by his long hair. The man had slanted, pointed ears.

"An elf?" Doran leans up, smiling broadly. "Here?" Illia's hand went to the hilt of her sword and Doran held a single hand up to show he meant them no harm. "I believe we should be moving on."

The amazon nods, turns and raises herself up into the saddle of her horse. Atlas did the same, turning his back to the elf who chuckled a bit.

"You look just like your father, Atlas." Atlas turned Ezma quickly, facing the elf once more. "You very much resemble your father, actually. Except for your eyes. You have your mothers gentle eyes."

"Who are you?" questions Illia, drawing her sword despite her position on horse-back.

"If you would speak with him...you need only to seek him out. He awaits you in Aer." Doran turns away from the two. "During your travels I urge you to bear in mind that this choice can be made by no other. Both he and I will eagerly await your decision, Prince of Thieves." The elf walked toward the horizon, beginning what they assumed was an elvish song once.

Illia didn't sheathe her sword until he had left their sight. She glances over at Atlas, who is sitting as ridged as ever in the saddle. "Atlas?"

"I would be very appreciative if you didn't tell anyone about this, Illia." She nodded in understanding.

"Of course. It is your business, after all." Hearing the beat of hooves both turn their attention to the approach of Kale, Nero and Nizel. As they draw near, Illia looks in the direction the man had left in, and then back at the others. "By chance, did any of you notice a man pass you before you arrived?" Nizel looks in the direction they had come from and then back to Illia.

"No," was Nizel's simple response. He looks past the amazon for a moment. "Did something happen?"

"Not at all," replies Atlas. "I never imagined it would take you quite so long to catch up. Have you gotten slow, Nizel?" He simply raised a hand in response to Atlas' teasing. They turned their horses in the direction the man had departed and began on the path to Aer again...

- - -

The silvery light of the moon bathed the world in it's other-worldly glow. The orange glow of the fire was flickering and dancing in the distance, it's light failing to reach the lone figure on top of the large rock. Atlas looks up at the pale orb hanging low in the sky.

"My father," mutters Atlas. The thief failed to notice the approach of anyone else until his name is called. He looks back sharply at Illia and then smiles. "That's twice now you have snuck up on me."

"I wasn't sneaking this time," replies Illia. "You simply were not paying any mind to my approach." Atlas chuckles and nods while Illia climbs up onto the large, flat boulder to stand beside the sitting thief. A smile spreads across his face, causing Illia to narrow her emerald green eye's. "What?"

"Nothing. It's just...you seem to have climbed this boulder much easier then the last one."

"This one isn't covered in slick moss." Atlas raises one leg up onto the edge of the rock and rests his elbow on his knee, his smile growing even wider under his black hood.

"Well, I suppose if you have to have an excuse," teases Atlas, earning himself a slight nudge from Illia's booted foot in response. "Easy, you might start slipping and get hurt. I don't want to have to carry you back to the camp." This earned him a stern look from Illia.

"I see you're trying to irritate me now, aren't you?"

"I might be. It would depend on your answer, really." Illia's response is to kneel and gently wrap her arms around him. Atlas glances back at her, quirking a single brow skyward. "Illia?"

"I know what it is you're doing, Atlas. You're trying to avoid the subject you most need to talk about." The thief sighs and looks away from her. "I WILL listen if you wish to talk." Atlas captured one of her hands in his and pressed a kiss to her knuckles.

"I don't know what to do." Illia's eyes widened slightly at that admission. "This could be my one chance at something like a relationship with him but...do I even WANT one with a man who would so readily abandon his child?" He shakes his head slightly. "What would YOU do, Illia?"

"I...I would ask myself, 'Will I regret not knowing him?'. Other then that, I can only tell you that everything you are is of your own doing. You taught yourself how to fight without his help, how to survive and exist. You have become a better man then he will ever be." Atlas chuckles and kisses her knuckles again. It never ceased to amaze him how Illia always seemed to be what he needed.

"Thank you." A smile appears on his face. "You know, I believe you're starting to show your softer side to me. I must say, I really like it you have to do it more often, Illia."

"...You really are trying to irritate me, now, aren't you?" Atlas laughs and turns quickly. Illia found herself on her back, the thief leaning over her with a smile on his face. "Oh? Are you planning to try to take the lead now?"

"If you'll allow it, Mistress Illia," teases Atlas, leaning down and kissing her softly. "Well? How...about...it?" Atlas questions between kisses. Illia admittedly entertained the idea. Knowing that it was Atlas she was inviting upon her body didn't immediately dissuade her from it. It wasn't meant to be a slight, but she didn't completely trust ANY male. Still, she held the thief in high regards in terms of trust.

One of her hands slid down his vest to his woolen trousers and the hardness straining against the fabric. He groans a bit as she rubs him and kisses her even more insistently. Illia breaks the kiss and smirks rather devilishly.

"Sorry," taunts Illia. "Not this time, Atlas." With surprising ease she rolls him onto his back and straddles his hips. Atlas starts to lean up and she presses a hand against his hard chest, stopping him. "Ah-ah..."

He smirks under his hood and nods, laying back and actually folding his hands behind his head in a show of relaxation. Even now he wasn't taking this seriously...except For his hardness pressed against her behind reminded her that he wasn't as calm as he appeared.

Illia was there as well, the heat and dampness between her legs a reminder that it had been quite some time since she had had the chance to enjoy the touch of a man.

"Prince! Illia!" called the familiar voice of Nero. "Where are you two?!" Illia slumps forward against Atlas' hard chest, an exasperated sigh escaping from her.

"I suppose we should be flattered that he wants to spend so much time with us," comments Atlas. He found it rather difficult to move remove her delicious weight from his lap. Regardless, the two leaned up and Illia then slowly stood. When Atlas made no attempt to move she arched a brow. "I, uh...I think I'll wait here for a moment."

Now Illia laughed. "Men are so easy to read, Atlas," teases Illia, walking away from the thief. Atlas looks down at himself and releases a heavy sigh, a shake of his head following.

"Heh. It's always something..."