The Lost Prince of Elysia: The Shining Tower【RP Thread】

Her sandaled feet moved with a rythmic determination that betrayed her true feelings. The crunch of dirt with each step a recurring reminder of the broken dreams and lost hopes that fell under the axe time and time again. Long, near-hip-length raven hair fell free over her back and shoulders that almost appear to shine blue in the sunlight. Auburn eyes glanced about at the various surroundings with an unease that would be just as clear to see as the moon on a cloudless night. Her small, button nose wrinkled over her passively expressed lips as the woman failed to hide her mixed, yet certainly negative emotions. A broad, simple wooden bow with a chip here and there was strapped across the back of her tunic-like blouse, held steady with the worn leather quiver of petty goose-feather arrows. The only other armaments she carried being a small dagger she kept in a hidden sheath on her thigh.

Mallory Hawkins carried herself with the grace of a sickly swan; truly elegant, but ill nonetheless. However her ailment was not of the body, but one of the mental rut she had found herself trapped in for years. Her youth was one of constant education on being a proper lady for a man she would one day be given to in marriage; of course there was no say in it of herself. The only joy she could find was in the archery lessons she had managed to convince her parents to be her price for obedience to their pampering instructions. An hour a week of absolute bliss. But she knew it would not last and it certainly did not, for at the coming of age at sixteen her parents had already found and decided upon the man that would be her husband; a respected broker nearing his thirties with a tidy appearance, sharp handsome features and a gentleman's countenance. The only options were to succumb to her parents whims or...

To run.

Not once did she look back. She took nothing with her but the clothes on her back and the bow she carried with her now. She found work here in Elysia as a washmaiden, only to meet abuse from her employer. Again and again she would seek out a life to lead, but unfortunate events or her own longing for something more would ultimately push her away. Mallory never could find what she was after and her mind fell into the plague of apathy. Even archery was losing its luster; her soul was washing colder than a frozen river.

The petitions for volunteers in the endeavor of seeking out the missing prince had caught Mallory's eye instantly. She felt no love for the kingdom and she had no interest in serving the royal family. But perhaps this was something she could close out her life with. Should this venture be her ultimate demise then at least she could die doing something she once loved. And of course, should Mallory miraculously succeed then it would be a sign from the gods that there was still something to live for. And thus she strode the paths until she came to the edge of Netherfar; a single road in both the literal and symbolic sense lying before her.

 

It had been easy to convince the merchants to let her ride on the cart; the difficult part was to leave. 'Lucia', as she'd named herself, was a somewhat well-known mercenary in her home country. Part of it was the fame, part of it was for her insatiable bloodlust. Her desire for both is what ultimately led to her current predicament. Apparently she'd signed herself up for some sort of service. "That wasn't the agreement," the young woman said, her voice carrying a hint of an accent.


"Nothing is free, lady," the merchant insisted, his tone quickly becoming angry.

"I asked for a ride, you gave me one," she grumbled back. 


The merchants looked to protest more, but the girl had enough. She reached to her waist, where her whip was coiled, and cracked it at their feet. It only warranted a few seconds of pause before the men started to move once more. The second crack of the whip tore through the men's shirts, drawing a thin line of blood. She said nothing, just arching her eyebrow at them, then turned and walked away. She'd probably be tracked down by guards later, but she didn't care. 

She hurried off, trying to find a tavern or inn to duck into. Even though she'd found a free ride for most of her journey, she was still somewhat tired and was in the mood to relax and sit down for a while.

 

Step after relentless step matched the consistent pace of the wavering of her determination. It seemed that with every step Mallory took her heart would pound harder. It was fight or flight, but the archer had no intention of fleeing. Her eyes scanned the barrens, wisps of dirt and sand gliding along the flat surface like the calm flow of an ocean tide. There was ultimately no objective for the drifting particles beyond allowing themselves to be taken wherever the wind blew; an existence of ultimate imprisonment. The freedoms proclaimed by a life adrift and unfettered were naught more than the fleeting grains she saw around her, to be driven by the wind and tossed. A compelling offer of no responsibilities that Mallory had been foolish enough to accept. And now the winds of life compelled her actions as a slave would submit under the crack of the whip. And yet, knowing the malicious intent of this force, Mallory found herself blindly obeying without hesitation.

Yet there comes a time in the life of every abused, every slave, every weighted soul that can no more be avoided as much as the moment can be predicted. The 'straw that breaks the camel's back.' How many lashes of the whip before the slave withdraws into permanent withdrawal?  How long under the grueling sun before the thirsty stranger collapses? The time was inevitable and, to Mallory's surprise, now. Her knees buckled and her hands caught her fall, gritty biting her palms as if taunting her every failures. How long had it been since she had shed tears? Exspressed emotion? The salty moisture fell like a river, staining her cheeks and dripping to the thirsty ground. This had to be done, but at this moment she could not but wish for someone, anyone to push her on; a tiny spark of external motivation. The faintest wish. Her crux had come and the young archer discovered she had not the strangth. She couldn't continue alone.

 

The woman flashed a smile back at the innkeeper and ducked in. There was no way the merchants could have sent word ahead of time, even if this particular establishment was in some way affiliated to those ruffians. Lucia hurried to the back and found a seat, sinking down and nestling into the corner to try and make herself blend in. She didn't have to stay for an extended period of time, just long enough for the merchants to stop searching for her. Then she'd hurry back down the road from Netherfar to get to the Shining Tower--the legendary construct of which the crown prince was supposed to have disappeared at. 

Naught but legends and superstition, the girl thought to herself, watching the patrons eat and drink. Some were very obviously drunk, singing and dancing and swaying. Others sat and laughed at their tables, and others still were quiet. The atmosphere was merry, and it was hard not to partake in the festivities. I must stay focused.

It was but half of an hour before Lucia got up out of her seat and walked with purpose towards the exit. Hopefully it was enough time to give those bastards the slip. Once on the road again, she took off at a light jog, heading down the road. Not as much time to rest as she wanted, but the best thing to do now was to get to her destination.

 

How long had she been doubled over, emotions bleeding from her core like an open wound? It didn't matter. Gradually she calmed, the passing of the episode leaving her with even more resolve than before. Wiping the moisture from her face she drank greedily from her water skin, not really caring at this point if she ran out. One leg at a time she rose to her feet, brushing the dust off her body. Eyes instinctively gravitated toward the shimmering obelisk before her, Mallory took a deep breath, exhaled, and continued her approach.

But there was something else. Something... drawing her interest somehow. Pausing to puzzle over the feeling, she glanced to her sides; nothing. Turning to look behind her, Mallory's eyes widened. Was that... a figure? A person!? Could it really be true that some other poor fool had chosen this day and this time to embark on the self-same escapade she had herself? Had the gods heard her plight? It was almost too good to be true; it seemed so unbelievable. The more she gazed the more convinced she became it was not an illusion, the figure was definitely getting closer. Vigorous determination flushed throughout the archer's system like a surge of adrenaline. She pressed on, albeit a bit slower so that the other being could catch up. How unbelievable!

 

The woman's paced slowed from a jog to a brisk walk. Eventually, her walking pace even slowed. Lucia paused for a moment to take in the surroundings. There was nothing but sand in every direction, with the city a lump in the distance behind her, and the tower in front of her. However, there was a third spot on the road; a lump in the middle of the path between Lucia and the far-off tower. Soon enough, the lump stood, revealing itself to be a person, and began to forge ahead. Lucia smirked to herself and redoubled her pace at a light run, aiming to catch up with the person.

"Afternoon," the leather-clad woman called out to the girl on the road. "Might you be venturing to the tower to find this 'lost prince?'"

 

With her episode just moments ago, it was surprising to the archer how difficult it was to keep a slower pace. She seemed to be twice as anxious; twice as ready to face her certain end. But of course, her reservations anchored her down to more of a casual stroll as she hoped beyond hope for the person closing the gap to arrive. And she did not hope in vain. The follower was a black haired woman who spoke as soon as she arrived.

"Yes actually, I am. Given your question and the fact you're even out here at all I'm assuming you are as well? I'm Mallory, by the way."

 

"Aye," the woman said with a sly smile. "I go by Lucia. It is nice to make your acquaintance." The raven-haired mercenary matched pace with Mallory, staring at her new companion, a strange sort of excitement twinkling in her eyes. "I thought there would be more people here, seeking glory. More...knights, I suppose. But truth be told I do think I am happier with just the two of us. I may just have met you but I do think that working as a duo will be better for us in the long run."

Lucia smirked, and chuckled to herself. Oh, this will be fun, she thought. I wonder how this Mallory will act...Will we become friends, or will I be impatient to part from her once we are finished with this tower? Will she accompany me to seek fame afterward?