In the Darkness ((OPEN))

[Adwen Earna]

Adwen was nervous being so far from her twin. She didn't like the thought that someone might hurt the girl while she was away. Unfortunately, Adwen was restless. It was why they had gone so far from home in the first place. Adwen sighed and shoved a hand through her thick blonde hair. She knew exactly what her problem was. She needed to find the one who had made her. She was going to thank him...right as she killed him.

That thought brought a bitter smirk to her lips. She liked that thought. It brought her the same joy as thinking about killing Graelham. She knew without a doubt that the deeds would bring her equal joy too. She had to find the man first though.

Adwen fingered the dagger in her hands and wondered what she was doing. She had left Lachlann's castle and her twin. Lachlann's! It was so odd especially since he had named the keep for them. Adwen couldn't help but smile fondly. She thought of him as a child just as her twin did. It was because they were so old, he had once teased. He still teased, but not as much. Adwen knew that it was partly her fault. She had trained him. She did not regret that choice though and never would. It had kept him alive.

[Mircea Dracul II]

He was pushing some boundaries. The more he sat mounted on his dark stallion overlooking the Black sea the more he realized he was pushing some very tight boundaries. Though, he wouldn’t deny, the view was amazing, to be standing at this location, looking out at the ink pool that was before him. It was late, and he knew that, but there were some soldiers that weren’t far off from him, out of sight, of course, but they weren’t too far. At the idea of pressing into Ottoman territory, for some slight peacemaking on his brothers behalf, so he could also get a good feel of the people from this area. He had some ideas, nothing too cemented, but he had some. They seemed quieter people, at least to him. Then again, they were probably quiet because he was not one of them. It made sense…at least in that way.

He sighed as he ran a gloved hand along his stallions neck, and then rested it on the horses’ shoulder. Mircea sighed gently, leaning down more so he was nearly resting against the stallion. There was so much to think about lately. Vlad didn’t seem well, working too hard, in Mircea’s eyes for something that was going to be listened to, but with not as much attention as Vlad is probably hoping to receive. The Ottoman Leaders were fools, and probably couldn’t read past a child’s level. Yet, Vlad was giving them a broad chance, an opportunity to hold a peace treaty, and remain at a state of allies for whatever time Vlad saw fit, before the truce was snapped, and the Transylvanian Empire would regain complete control.

It was perhaps a scandalous and heinous act, to hold a truce only to be able to break it on safe grounds later, but that was the way of the world, to hold an empire by the back of the shirt, and when necessary, stab them in the back to achieve your own goals.

Cruel thinking, but wise in the same sense.

Good thing Vlad was leader.

With a breath Mircea sat upright, feeling a slight sweeping pride come over him as he turned his stallion, leading the dark beast along the coastline. The horse’s strong steps digging into the ground where the grass and sand met, causing him to prance just a little to keep moving, it gave a slightly elegant atmosphere to Mircea. It was hard, the Prince found, to try to avoid acting his title in a territory that was still considered Neutral, for the moment. It was hard not to look at the treacherous scum and think just that, scum, compared to them actually being humans. As he watched the Black sea lap crested waves upon the dark sand he thought about Vlad’s treaty, and just where it would take them.

[Adwen Earna]

Adwen wondered what her sister and Lachlann would say if she went over to Transylvania. It would take her a while, that was true. She wouldn't mind the exercise though. That wouldn't be a bad thing though. Acacia would worry though. Adwen's sigh was more of a growl as the sound came from the back of her throat. She hated making her twin worry, but sometimes she chaffed under the confines of the civil living that her twin so favored. "You're going to be the death of me Acacia," Adwen muttered under her breath.

Adwen shoved her dagger back into boot and stood up looking at the sea. If anyone saw her right now, they would think of her as a long aired male. That was the way she wanted it. Though there were advantages to men knowing she was a woman. They didn't think that she could fight. That was their mistake and one they paid for dearly if they dared to cross her or touch what was hers.

Adwen buckled her sword around her waist and pulled her cloak around her. She didn't need it. She used it to show the illusion that she was human. She wasn't human. She hadn't been for over one hundred years. Only two people in this God-forsaken place knew this though. They were the only ones that needed to.

Adwen's head jerked to the side to look along the coastline as she heard an animal coming in the distance. Adwen lifted her head in the air and sniffed. A human male riding a horse. Adwen growled and moved away into the shadows drawing her hood up to cover her blonde hair. If this human came upon her, she wanted him to be unaware o f that fact until it was too late if she had to attack him.

[Mircea Dracul II]

The more Mircea moved along this coastline the more he was pleased to find he was just moving into nature, instead of strict civilization. He had enough of people for a day, dealing with the few folks he met in town, was plenty for him. The culture shock and the clash of both was hard enough on the Princes mind, he needed the air that he found out here, by the waves. Here were nature wasn’t yet fully tamed. It was a fresh relief, from beautiful mountains and valleys of Transylvania, to the shores of the Ottoman Empire. And yet, nothing would compare to home to Mircea, nothing was close to Transylvanian soil and air, nothing was like it’s people, it’s rich, bountiful foods and crops, the cultures and the wares were the finest, and even though the climate was such a harsh difference, it was what made Transylvania all the more spectacular. Though Mircea would admit, as he pushed Keska into a canter, that the weather was a nice relief, the warmer temperature, even for autumn, was a slight relief.

Keska snorted, throwing his head into the air as he pushed himself into a brisk, yet fluid canter. Mircea let the horse run, but slowed him as he neared a nicer cove on this edge of the beach. The water was shallower right here, from what Mircea could see in the light from the full moon. With a smile he let Keska move into the water, prancing and throwing his legs up, bringing the water with him as he pounded the waves. Perhaps a silly, almost foolish carefree thing to do, but it had been quite some time since Mircea had been near open water like this, and the Black sea…sadly, wasn’t on the Transylvanian side of things.

Leading the stallion back over towards the sand Mircea dismounted, his leather boots landing in less than half a foot of water, and as soon as he had let go, the horse was trotting back off in it, playing in the cool sea. Mircea smiled to his horse before he shoved his hands into his coat pocket, walking back towards shore. His steps were calm, rather relaxed. His rapier was tapping against his leg as he walked, the gentile jingle from the metal on the buckle and some of the metal on his belt broke the silence and broke the repetitious sound of the waves. That was another thing, Mircea could think about. The silence out here gave his mind a chance to freely roam, gave his body room to breathe, to relax.

And even as he stood, facing the sea, watching his dark stallion prance the waves as if some ballet, he felt at peace…

…but not completely.

As Mircea stood there, he had a rather strange inkling strike him, a shiver lace up his spine like a whisper. He furrowed his brows a moment, shrugging it off, before he could swear there was just something not right. Turning his head more to view the tree line he peered in as far as his eyes would allow. He mentally shrugged when he saw nothing, and turned his gaze back towards Keska, watching as the horse was standing a good few meters out, staring at him. Mircea whistled…yet…Keska didn’t move, but he snorted, a hard, loud cough as he stared at Mircea. Curious, Mircea turned around once more…

…Perhaps his inkling was well placed after all.

[Adwen Earna]

Adwen watched the male and his horse go to the water. He wasn't on of the Arabs that Lachlann now served. He reminded her of the Transylvians that were so close. That thought gave her pause. There was the possibility, but why would a one of those be there of all places. That and this one did not look like he was from peasant stock either. Adwen swore softly under her breath. However this ended up, she didn't see it ending well.

Adwen caught a glimps of the rapier at the young male's sigh and almost laughed. It was the decades that she had taken to teach herself control that stopped her. She had seen many rapiers, especially of late. She thought them foolish and senseless weapons. They were weak and as far as she was concerned ineffective. She much preferred her sword.

Adwen watched as the young male whistled and his horse refused to go to him. It was possible that the horse had sensed her prescence. Adwen had come to notice over the last century that animals tended to be more preceptive than humans anyway. The male turned his eyes passed over where she was standing in the shadows again. Adwen thought for a moment and a wicked smile crossed her lips. Acacia could kill her later. Adwen wanted to see what this human was made of.

She stepped out of the shadows looking like a dark thing of the night (which in truth was what she was). The only thing he would be able to see of her would be the hand that rested on the hilt of her silver and ruby encrested sword Adwen wore. A gift from the young boy Acacia and Adwen had adopted and named heir of the dead Graelham's lands so long ago. Adwen saw out of the corner of her eye that the ruby glinted blood red in the moonlight and was suddenly very glad that she had already drank that night. She didn't wanted to have deal with that battle along with this human.

[Mircea Dracul II]

As Mircea kept a sharp eye on the shadow in the distance he didn't see much of anything of interest or anything to be worried about. Shrugging, he sighed and turned to look back at Keska who was now snorting loudly, flicking his tail in agitation. Curious once more, Mircea turned his body fully around, looking behind him. There was clearly something going on, and he wasn't sure what it was. That was, until he took note of a figure, nay, a specter come out of the darkness and step forward. Mircea hesitated a moment, feeling that uncharacteristic feeling of fight or flight come up in his throat. and fill his body with adrenaline. He didn't know who it could be, and being in a unfamiliar territory, it could be just about anyone out to kill someone such as him, after all he was a prince, and one of Transylvania resting in Ottoman territory.

It all got worse when the figure reached inside their cloak and took hold of a shimmering sword. Mircea's breath caught this time, and he took a step back, raising his hands up. He wasn't looking for a fight, not in the least. The last thing he needed was someone to come at him swinging, ready to kill him. He just wanted some peace and quiet, some simple time to himself to think and rest. Not get into some brawl with some random person in a territory that wasn't exactly deemed friendly just yet. Though, Mircea doubted that it would ever be considered friendly. Even with Vlad's treaty in place, this place would never be called friendly or an ally, it would just be there, waiting to be beheaded. That was, of course, as soon as Vlad deemed them useless, or they broke their treaty. Such a simple thing as that was worthy of a death.

This time Keska came up behind his master, charging forward, and past Mircea just enough to try to look intimidating or fend off the person in the shadows. "Keska!" Mircea jumped forward catching the reins of the horse and pulling him back. Pulling him behind Mircea and out of the front line of fire. To loose his horse would be death on this coast, and the last thing he needed was to be stuck here, without any way of letting anyone at home know he was stranded. Lord knew that Elena would freak if he wasn't home soon. Mircea gave a gentile sigh, a breath to calm himself as he stepped forward, closer to shore. The dark sea's water was leaking into his boots. "Look, I'm not out to hurt anyone alright?" He spoke loudly, over the sound of the harsh and lapping waves.

He could only pray that whomever was standing at that tree line, sword ready to be drawn was both understanding in the sense of what he said, and understanding of his accent. His Transyvanian tongue was rich and thick, but he knew how to mask it as much as necessary. But at the moment he didn't want to mask it, he didn't need to hide it. His goal was to make sure that A; this person knew that he was not Ottoman, in case they were against the Ottoman Rule, and B; that he wasn't out to hurt anyone. Being of Transylvanian blood here could mean life or death depending on how careless you were, at the same time, it could be a beacon of hope for those who wish to avoid Ottoman rule. Perhaps this person saw him an Ottoman threat, or maybe, if he was lucky, they would see him as but a friend...not someone to swing a sword at.

[Adwen Earna]

Keska!

"Hold your beast in check boy," Adwen growled when the horse tried to charge forward and intimidate her. The beast trampling her wouldn't have killed her, but it would have hurt and she wouldn't have been able to do much. She didn't like the thought of being helpless. That and she wasn't likely to let the horse trample her. That would have meant she would have had to kill the poor animal and then far too many problems to count would have arisen. It would have been too much of a mess to have to kill the poor thing. Better that the boy kept it away from her.

Look, I'm not out to hurt anyone alright?

Adwen laughed. "Those are silly words boy. They sound weak and annoyed. You are nobility no? You are to speak with strength and you demand. You do not ask such questions that put you at the mercy of one. No matter if that one is weaker than you or not. Show a bit of arrogance, but at the same time, know you limit. Do you know your limit?"

[Mircea Dracul II]

Boy? Mircea felt an edge of anger come across his body when she said that. He was no boy, he was a grown man, once a king, now a prince. A king! He snorted, scoffing as he turned his head away. He should’ve let Keska charge forward, trample the person; it would’ve made it easier. Meant he wouldn’t be dealing with an angry figure in the shadows, ready to cut his limbs off. What should he expect from Ottoman fools. They would always react as such, what they were, fools. He moved to step into Keska’s stirrup, lifting his body up and onto the horse, now that it was near him. Keska snorted again, flicking his tail, ears pinned back in anger as he lowered his head, standing strong and firm in the foot of the Sea’s shore.

The figure then began telling him how he should speak, and how his words sounded. Well of course they sounded annoyed. Here someone was, ready to draw their sword on him when he did nothing to merit it. Was walking on the Seashore a crime now? He crossed on arm over the other, resting the hand in the air, yet a foot away from the thick short sword that was on his saddle. He didn’t aim to draw it, or even look as if he would, but it was within a quick reach, that way, he would be able to defend himself if this person did come swinging.

“Well clearly they would be.” Was his retort to the person. “Tell me how you’d act if someone was ready to draw a weapon on you for no reason?” He spoke back, using a firmer tone than before. A more...agressive tone, which would probably merit either another verbal lashing, like this person was his mother or something, or they would come swinging. “I know my limit stranger, do you?” He retorted back, voice edged in a harsh sarcasm. He doubted they did, to attack a prince who knew how to defend himself better than a trained soldier. Well, how else was Mircea able to wander Ottoman streets with barely any, if any, guards.

“What do you want?” His voice was demanding this time, harsh and loud as he remained mounted, still on the Sea’s edge, the waves washing in from behind gave him some sense of calm, and Keska didn’t seem to mind, in fact, the horse seemed better grounded on the wet sand than the dry.

[Adwen Earna]

Adwen stood silent for a moment and then laughed. She allowed herself to just laugh. She never revealed her face though. That could wait another few moments. "Much better boy. I find that you have a spine after all. And that is well. It could be what keeps you alive one day. And I am not afraid of you. I have faced a warrior before with my bare hands. I can tell you, it is he who lies dead and forgotten in the ground. I know very well my limits and they are far more than I need to defeat you. You may be skilled, but I am better."

Acacia would kill her sister. There was no doubt in Adwen's mind. Her usually sweet, docile twin would go into a rage and kill Adwen. Adwen would of course allow her sister to do it. She could never harm her twin just as she knew without a doubt that Acacia could not really harm her. She might get angry and hurt Adwen, but nothing serious enough to actually kill.

"Besides, I've had no intention of killing you unless you made it necessary. I realized you were coming this way and became...curious at what manner of Transylvanian noble rides out alone into what could be considered enemy territory. Just as you have done no wrong, neither have I. Though I will present myself to you as is...fitting." Adwen pulled down the hood of her cloak and allowed the moonlight to strike her blonde hair. The look in her eyes spoke of controlled danger and darkness. "I am Adwen Earna of Braidwood, sister of the Lady Baron of Braidwood and keeper of Lachlann Morabiz of Braidwood and more recently these Ottoman people." Adwen inclined her head slightly, but there was mocking in her eyes. He was a child to her. He would always be. Nothing could change that.

[Mircea Dracul II]

Had some spine. Mircea snorted in agitation. Of course he had spine, but what could this person expect for someone foreign in new territory but to be more submissive than dominant. In new territory, Mircea had learned many times the hard way, that you don’t throw your title or rank about, it could lead to too much trouble in the long run, and it could expose you to some troubles that you might, and certainly wouldn’t be looking for, per say. When it came to trotting along the coast of the Black Sea in Ottoman territory, the last thing Mircea needed was to get stranded with someone who was ready to wield a weapon and hack slash him to pieces. While he understood her curiosity and perhaps defense, it was completely uncalled for to threaten him as such, and then talk him down for speaking as he did. What man in his right mind wanted to get cut up on a dark night by the Black Sea though?

He didn’t doubt the person was better at a weapon than he, but at the same point, he was pretty sure they were underestimating his skills. Mircea had grown up with swords and weaponry, mounted and footed he had trained to fight, and had excelled more so in the training arts than he did in his book work. He continued to train everyday, looking for those who considered themselves, masters at sword fighting and would take them on in a training session, 8 out of 10 times he was able to put them to shame. He was always working on new ways to move, new moves to use and different skills and styles of sword fighting, just looking for something to excel his skill and ability, to become one of the best. After all, he was the sun of Vlad Dracul.

She decided to reveal herself, and Mircea could honestly say he figured the voice was light enough to be female, but he didn’t wholly believe it would be one. When the moonlight caught her blonde hair he just watched, and listened as she revealed herself and who she was to him. He simply nodded however, remaining quiet for some moments on. He wasn’t sure if he was going to reveal himself to her or not. The way she spoke that she was keeper of some place, and the Ottoman people had a slight bristling disgust spread across his body, though he kept it masked, and simply glanced down to the waves a moment before he looked back at her.

“Pleasure. I am Lord Mircea Dracul the second.” He spoke his name with dignity, and an edge of pride in his voice. He was proud of his title, especially his last name, and yet, he didn’t state he was a prince. If she knew anything she would already know he was once the King of Transylvania, and now was just another prince, former king, who had given his brother the throne, because Vlad was better suited to diplomacy, Mircea would rather fight, would rather be there to advise, and then take up sword when necessary.

“What brings you to stalking me along the coast line Lady Adwen Earna? Have I done something which merits your supervision?” His tone was coolly calm, and he remained mounted on Keska, who was still standing in the water, taking long, deep, breaths, his tail flicking side to side.