Well. I figured it was about time I post something, since I actualy FINISHED a chapter *excuse me as I parteh* And yes, I realise my grammar is godawful, but I'm okay with that at this point. One day my grammar will catch up to my writing, and util then *and even after* I just need a good editor. But enough of that.

Rai'Anathil ~ Chapter One
"Tell me, dearest," M'Teri whispered, lips stained red with blood brushing against Mellia's bruised cheek. Shivering in revulsion, she tilted her face away from his and imagined her foot connecting with his abdomen. If only she could get free, hurt him...struggling harder against the chains suspending her, she hacked and spat in his eye.

"Go to hells, you b*****d," she croaked. Speaking hurt; breathing was painful; movement, excruciating. M'Teri let out a long string of curses and rubbed at his eye with an embroidered and lacy sleeve, stumbling backwards and tripping over the edge of a carpet decorating the rich suite.

"You've spunk, girl," he growled, blinking back tears. She might have found it amusing if not for the chains and being at the mercy of the king's most gifted torturer. Little things like that. M'Teri scrambled to his feet and glared at her, crossing the length of the room and backhanding her hard across the cheek. She did not even wince when most any ordinary woman would've fainted; in place was a stony mask that would have made a Royal Elite Guard proud. It took all her will-power to keep from showing weakness... and she feared it would not last. She knew it would not last.

He daintily wiped blood off his knuckles with a handkerchief, smirking. Strange how a fop like him could be such a brutal questioner. Powdered wig, blue eyes, the latest fashions. He looked like the last person to pick up a mean bull whip or a serrated knife and hack at someone until they begged for mercy. Just goes to show, she thought with a chargrin, that you shouldn't judge a book by it's cover, or a man by the silk he wears.
"The king serves evil, and you know it," She hissed. "He's nothing but a marrionete. Koranis pulls the strings. And you know what? I'm not about to--"
She must've struck a nerve, because something twitched in his cheek and his pleasant expression was forced.
"Have you ever seen her? Hair golden as the sun, grace and beauty that surpasses even the most lovely elves. She shines with a silver radiance that warms my heart. You speak plashphemy. She is not evil, but good."
He sure likes to wax poetic, she scoffed.
"She must be something, then. And those kornaks of hers, they're a thing of beauty, too. Their dribble, like the golden rays of the sun running down their muzzles, the blood that coats their fur and claws and teeth is ruby red and glorious. They--and she, have never stollen an innocent soul. Oh, yes, she is good." No points for litterary prowess, she thought.

"Lies!"

She smiled indulgently and shruged as best she could while chained. "I'm only saying what you're either to dumb or too affraid to admit. And you don't like it."
He growled, hand poised to slap her, withdrew; paced; shook his head, and went to pick up a serrated knife from a desk holding an array of tools and weapons.
"You have been mislead by the bastards of the Opposition, Mel." She cringed at the use of her nick-name. "You used to be a good girl. Loyal. How far you have fallen." Was that a twinge of regret in his voice?
"That was before."
"It will be again."
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As the ninth bell tolled, Captain Marna Dosweth of the Elite Guard set aside the last of the reports and took off her spectacles, rubbing weariness from her eyes. Gods, where is that boy? He should have been here by--
A knock on the door interrupted her train of thought and she looked up, allowing herself a small smile.
"Come!"
Entering, Coren inclined his head respectfully; looking squished in her small, spartan-looking office.
"Sit, lieutenant," She said and he took the proffered chair.
"Captain? You summoned me..."
"I know. I have some reports for you to talk care of, among other things." Leaning forward, she tented her fingers on the desk and began to go over the contents of the reports. He half-listened, which was strange; he always listened attentively, intensely even. He knew the necessity of even the mundane. It was one of the many reasons why she chose him, though he was young.
"Coren," she said, pursing her lips when he didn't answer.
"Liutenant Ryen." Shaken from his stupor, he looked up.
"Captain?"
"Welcome to the living, Coren. You ready to pay attention?"
He nodded, running a hand through his scruffy black hair and sighing.
This is about Mellia, I know it is. She frowed. She'd noticed how he looked at the young mage, knew his feelings for the girl even though he did not. And now that she's captive...

He was hurt. In turmoil. Confused. He hid it well; most of his comrades did't know, but Marna did. She'd raised him, for the love of gods.
"You want to tell me what's going on?" Wrong move. He adopted a stony facade and tensed just a little. It was like screaming "something is freaking wrong here!" to her.
"Nothing, captain," he said. She quirked an eyebrow but let the matter rest. For now.
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Coren shut the door and leaned back against it, hitting is head once, twice, three times against it. Idiot. Idiot. Idiot. She'd noticed. Should've been more careful. If he was discovered, if they knew he turned traitor it'd all be over. And if that wasn't enough to keep him awake at night, there was always Mellia, held captive. His fault. All his fault. Shaking his head, he struck off for the Elites' Wing. I need to tread carefully. the King trusts me and I'd like to keep it that way for now. Makes things much easier. She needs to get out. How?

The castle was all but empty at this time of night, courtiers, servants, and soldiers all retiring for the night. Elites concealed in shadowed alcoves greeted him. Rich carpet muffled his footfalls and taspestries and drapperies fluttered as he passed. He turned down a corridor, passing the king's quarters. And voices. Distant voices growing closer. The king.

He hid in an alcove, the shadows welcoming and embracing him. His dark uniform concealed him well. Silaedron, and who? A woman.

They passed him, the king graceful and youthful despite his age, the woman... stunning. Golden hair that trailed down her back, a simple white dress that floated about her and a silver aura seemed to suround her. Another elf. No, she is more beautiful than even an elf. Coren couldn't understand them as they were speaking elvish, but Silaedron seemed to respect her.
He caught one word. Koranis. She! Koranis... the dark goddess. He swallowed back the begginings of panic, struggling to keep his head straight. If she finds me, I'll be worse than dead. The Opposition will be crushed. She'll learn everything, every secret...that cannot happen. Will not. He suppressed a sigh, looking after them. Things just got more complicated.