[Icerose]

Hey all, this is the first chapter of the story I have been weaving, sorry if there are a lot of waits between the updates, the plot is not finished, and I will not be able to access my stuff for a while. It's a fanatasy type of thing, but please tell me if is totally cheese. PLEASE SEND SOME COMMENTS!
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Chapter one

Hurried footsteps echoed softly through the village corridors. Four hooded figures stole through the night hidden by the shadows of the stone city buildings. The sun had disappeared long ago, and iniquity slyly masked itself in every dark shadow.

Quickly unlocking a stiff door with her slender shivering fingers, a woman unbolted the short wooden gate which sprung smoothly open, silent and indefinite. Three men stooped and entered, and the woman glanced around briefly through the dark and narrow streets to ensure that they hadn’t been tracked. The oldest of the men urged her to follow in haste, for the hours of the night were only secretive for so long. Smooth stone walls palely reflected the soft white moonlight, but no other disturbance could be noted. With a quick movement, she slid the door shut preventing any one to pursue.

The damp room within was shallow, and dim. A swift lighting of a clay lamp put an end to the tense gloom, casting dim shadows. The lady looked up at the three men who stared back at her expectantly. The woman, Nadalaya, surveyed the three sets of eyes watching, waiting, their eyes mirroring the red flames glowing the small brown chamber before her. Smiling to herself, she sighed and took amusement in their desperation. Reaching into her deep pocket, she brought out a silver ring with keys on it. Allowing her gaze to drift back to their faces, her smirk stiffened and a troubled frown swept over her countenance. They did not know what they were getting into.

Selecting the appropriate key, she fingered the crude metal and looked up again at the men who were watching her intently; as a wolf a cornering a deer.

Lifting the parchment scrolls from their once secretive encasements, she laid them on the table.
“That wasn’t so hard was it Nadalaya?” one of the men hissed cruelly taking the scrolls from her and opening them, checking to assure their validity.
“By the gods Theos, did it appear that I was suffering?” she muttered irately under her breath. “Now release me.” She ordered, turning towards the prince, her voice sounding of authority.
“You may come in use for us later Nadalaya; we might need someone to help with other arrangements.” Lorgen answered, a short pause following before the leader continued, a scornful tone in his voice. “You did not seriously think that we would allow a way of escape for you, with you knowing our names and all.” He slid the back of his knuckles down her cheek, “-You may come in hand for other uses as well it seems.” He added finally while the other two laughed scathingly, greatly enjoying their game of mockery.
"You have reason to fear Prince Lorgen; do not doubt that."
A thoughtful expression flooded his eyes, only to reveal seconds later the mockery in his emotion as he chuckled and looked back at her.
"Really, Nadalaya, I think not. Your father would believe you to be a traitor, were he still alive to have the whole story told to him."
Nadalaya stood, at a sore loss for words as the breath froze in her lungs, and a cold feeling flooded through her. Her visions had not noted this detail.
"Oh, I'm sorry Nadalaya, were you not informed?" Lorgen inquired with sardonic bitterness, laughing at the piteous state into which they had cornered her.
"I want proof." She commanded her voice rough with temporal emotion.
"Come then and we shall show you appropriate evidence." Lorgen replied, tucking the scrolls into a large leather pouch, which he then handed to the shortest of the three, Elethar. As she locked the drawer, she saw in her peripheral vision Lorgen and Elethar step towards her as if to close in. Before she could recall a strategic move, they took hold of her slender arms and held fast with an iron grip. Reaching into her pockets with the little freedom she had left, she took hold of the two daggers she always kept close and crossing her arms over her chest, plunged each of them into the hands of her captors narrowly missing her own arms. Crying in agony they released her and the third man who had already gone outside turned back to see what had gone wrong. Clutching the small handle of her sword, Nadalya ran up towards Theos and sunk the tip into his chest striking a mortal blow and pushed him back, making way for her to stumble out.

Elethar hurried out of the cave in attempts to trap her again, and she turned to face him knowing that it was useless to run and sure of only one thing.
Elethar swiftly swung his great fist at her, knocking a reeling blow which flung her to the hard ground. Lorgen watched, not bothering to join in, the inevitable clear as crystal to anyone concerning who was to have victory. Nadalya moaned dazed on the ground trying to establish reality, as he grasped the collar of her cloak and granted her another severe blow, sending her to the ground with warm blood trickling from her lips. Unsheathing his sword he pulled her to her feet, and stood back to survey her pitiful condition from head to toe. Nadalaya wiped the crimson stain from her lips and grasping for the handle of her dagger, she held it towards him in invitation. The two miniature blades clashed for a few moments, but were soon paused as a stroke was granted to Nadalaya's cheek running deep. Laughing tauntingly under her breath she watched as Elethar stood back in amazement to see the wound melt away to flawlessness again, leaving her unscathed. Trembling, he dropped his sword, and froze in petrified wonder.
"You can't win." She remarked as she nicked the skin of her wrist for them to see it again melt away into unharmed flesh. Raising her dagger, she flung it through the air, hitting the desired mark to leave Elethar in the dust motionless.

Turning to Lorgen she looked him in the eyes, hers gleaming with pride, his with tortured fear.
"Nothing to fear? I think not." She stated loftily, cocking her head to one side, welcoming a challenge. Sighing softly she slowly approached the prince, who stood frozen in fear, having no thought of what she would do next. When she had stopped, she stood so close to him that her warm breath lightly brushed his face, sending a flood of shivers down his spine as he watched her brown eyes take on slivers of crimson. Softly stroked his cheek with the back of her slender hand, she turned and sunk her teeth into his exposed neck; completing her awaited revenge. As he slid to the ground, his last breath escaped and Nadalaya finally revealed to him what she was: An undefeatable night-wanderer, laced with a terrible curse…

* * * * *

Nadalya sat upright, finally released from the vision of last night's occurrences. A light breeze blew into the balcony, the cool misty stream of air brushing against her damp forehead; perspiration still beading on her temple. Her rich bed gown was tangled about her, and her blankets lay in disarray over her as she looked to the heavens, still accented with stars.

The faint voices of the night birds in the olive trees drifted through her weary mind, mingling with the distressed confusion in which she found mind entranced. Frightening recollection of past flashed through her head, her mind throbbing in agony as she tried to calm the continuous swirl of memories which never seemed to die... Her mind was in a fever as the intense visions returned to captivate her thoughts, plunging her back into the darkness...

* * * * *

Theos' eyes flickered open and he grasped the silty dust under him. Feebly pushing himself to his feet, he removed the sword that had been plunged into him a few hours before. Looking up, he surveyed the heavens as dawn's rosy fingertips streaked the sky heralding a new day. Wiping the cold blood off the blade with his cloak, he turned the handle over and studied it, recognizing that it must have been the hand of Nadalaya who disabled him. She would not forget what she had done, and even if she did, the memory would return to her when she saw him again. Memory which she had erased long ago…
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There you are,

Icerose