In His World

It had been two days since House Dayfire fell, and Biara found herself wishing she'd had the sense to set up safe houses like Galvan Swiftblade used to do within the city. At least then she wouldn't be wearing the same bloody, torn clothing for days in a row! Despite the warnings she'd been given, as the day crept on towards noon she decided that she had to do something about it.

She set out at once, figuring that mid-day would be the safest time to be out in the run down part of Silvermoon where Alanth and she were hiding. The rogue himself had gone out at the crack of dawn to scout and work on securing passage out of the city. He'd had no luck the previous day, and the hope was that the pair would find a ship that would be sailing from Silvermoon that they could book passage with or at least stow away on so that Seluna couldn't find them. Walking onto such a ship in a bloody dress with a gash in the side would likely make them noticeable, and Biara was determined to do her part.

She made her way through the throngs of people, taking care to keep her dress covered with a traveling cloak that Alanth had given her. While it was half-ruined, it was still far to fine for this part of town and it would attract attention amongst the poor elves who lived on the edge of the ruins. Biara kept her eyes to herself and straight ahead, avoiding direct contact with those around her as she sought out a shop that would suit her needs. She noticed others did the same, and there was a sullen atmosphere where violence could erupt without provocation.

Finally, after a tense half hour of walking through the unpleasant sights and smells of the slum where she found herself, Biara came across a small tailor's shop and approached the place cautiously. Open to the street front, it was filled with a mix of different fabrics, although none were the type she normally would have purchased. She stepped beneath the overhanging roof, nodding a greeting to the tailor.

"How can I help you miss?" a greying old Sin'dorei woman asked with a smile.

Biara returned the smiled hesitantly, moving the front of her cloak aside and showing the woman her torn dress. "I would like to have this mended, and the stains removed if that's possible."

The woman looked at the dress, seeing through the gash in the bloody fabric, her eyes taking note of the equally torn flesh beneath it. She looked back up at Biara, her eyes meeting the Magistrix's. "You were wearing that when it happened, weren't you? You poor thing."

Biara nodded slowly, her face tense. She didn't really want to remember or think about it. Sensing the Magistrix's hesitance, the woman 'tsked' and stepped closer, examining the damaged garment. "I can surely fix this, and a bit of bleach and dye can return the color and remove the...stains. I'll need you to leave it here though."

Biara bit her lip and frowned. "I can't...that is, I d-don't have anything else to wear." Her voice sounded pitiful to her own ears and she flushed in embarrassment.

The elf looked at her with a hint of sorrow in her eyes, her experience telling her that the Magistrix was far far out of her element. She spoke softly, trying to soothe Biara's nerves. "It's alright deary, I can fix it now. It won't be perfect, but I can close up the hole while you wait and maybe fix the color enough for it not to be noticeable. I've got a spare dress that I can probably hem to your size too. It's not like this though. This is high Lady's fabric. We don't have anything like that here."

Biara nodded, her eyes grateful. "Thank you...I've little to pay you with, only this." She took off one of her earrings and handed it to the other elf. The jewel glittered in the light, a prefect diamond set into it. The tailor's eyes widened as she took the object and hid it away. She nodded and spoke quietly, "I'll make it as perfect as I can."

Biara quickly shifted her cloak, unlacing the front of the dress and slipping it over her head. The air was cold, and she stood shivering in a sheer shift. She'd elected to leave her boots on given the state of the streets in this part of the city, which looked like they hadn't seen a magic broom in years. She folded her arms across her chest, trying not to meet the leering gazes of several elves who walked past the shop as the tailor worked.

"Now ain't that a pretty flower sticking from the mud," a voice said behind her. Biara turned to see a male elf leering at her, stepping closer. "Not too often I get a show walking down the street."

Biara looked away, not commenting. Unfortunately, her remaining earring glittered in the light from the movement of her head. The other elf's eyes widened. "Well well, the flower's got a pretty bud. Let's see that lass."

He stepped closer, grabbing one of Biara's arms. She hissed in surprised and whirled to face him, the elf grabbing her other arm in the process as he studied the gem in her ear. "I want it lass. Give it here."

Biara trembled with rage, her magic itching to come out and burn the elf who was handling her in such a fashion. Memories of the past few days flowed through her mind though as she looked at her attacker, and she stilled the urge. In a quiet voice she whispered to him. "Just take it and go..."

"With pleasure," he grinned, reaching up and none-too-gently removing her earring. He examined the stone in it and cackled before slipping it into his pocket. His eyes alighted on the necklace around her neck, its golden chain connected to a cracked and burned looking ruby. It was the necklace Biara had used to keep an eye on her daughter when business took her from the spire.

"I'll have that one too lass." He said.

Her eyes met his, something beyond rage in them now. A deep sorrow haunted her look as she stared at him. "No."

He shook her, his grip on her arms tight. "I said give it here. Now."

Biara's mind calmed. She wouldn't use her magic ever again she'd determined. Not to hurt someone. Not if she could help it. All of the years in her spire tumbled through her mind. The battles she'd fought, the training she'd been given. The training that Sirian and her sister had insisted she learn, despite her magic.

Instep, groin, stomach, throat, eyes. The weak points. Strike fast, strike accurately.

Her boot came down on his foot hard. Even as he howled, her knee snapped up into his groin and her perfectly manicured nails jammed into his eyes. The elf, already off balance from his wounded foot, doubled up and then reared back, windmilling his arms. His backward tumble ended when he struck a nearby rainbarrel and flipped into it before spilling it and himself onto the street beyond. A number of people on the road laughed and applauded, and the elf got up, muddy and sputtering before lumbering off with a curse. He'd taken her earring, but she didn't care, the battle was over.

"That one's always trouble miss," the kindly tailor said as Biara turned back towards her. "Getting him out of here is a blessing on my shop. I'll be done with your dress in about an hour if you'd care to sit. Maybe you can tell an old elf a few tales."

Biara smiled sadly but sank gratefully into the offered seat. She shook her head slowly as she watched the woman work. "I have no stories left to tell. There is nothing left of me to see or know."

*********************************************

She made her way back up the stairs to the room she and Alanth shared at the orphanage. Her dress was in better repair now, and she felt somewhat better about her situation. The door to their room was open and she smiled to herself as she entered the room.

Alanth must still be out. He won't know I went out.

The door creaked closed behind her, and there he was, leaning against the wall where the door had concealed him, eating an apple. He eyed her over as she turned to face him.

*Crunch*  went the apple as he bit off a chunk.

"Having fun today?" He said, his tone neutral.

Biara flushed in embarrassment, realizing she couldn't lie to him. "I-I'm sorry...I had to get it fixed. It would have been obvious..." Her voice trailed off under his stare.

*Crunch*  "Do you think we're playing a game here Biara?" He asked, stepping closer to her. "Do you think our situation is funny? Do you think it's cause to go out on a lovely day-trip to go shopping?"

Baira bowed her head, unable to meet his gaze. "N-no...it's not that. It's j-just..."

He was within a foot of her now, his hand reaching out and forcing her to look him in the eye. "I was watching the entire time. Unlike you, I am not so oblivious. Don't you EVER allow yourself such weaknesses again. You have deadly skills, and if you don't use them here, in this place, you will die."

This time she held his gaze. "No. I won't use my magic again. I told you that."

He almost sneered at her. "And I told you that you are a liar. You can and will. I did not lose EVERYTHING so that you could play games and make her life...make...IT all a waste. Do you understand me?"

She said nothing, and he took a menacing step forward. "The correct answer would be 'Yes Alanth I understand you and it will not happen again.'"

She nodded. "Y-yes Alanth I understand. I won't do it again. I will learn, I promise."

He took one of her hands and slapped the half-eaten apple into it. "Good. Glad we had this talk. Have some lunch...and dinner."

With that he spun, walking from the room and leaving her dazed. She looked down at the apple, and realized she was starving. Biting into it, she looked back up at the empty doorway where he'd passed through. She shook her head and sighed. She didn't know if she'd ever be able to adjust, but she would do her best.

She didn't want to get him killed too.