The dark, deep depths of the dungeons did nothing to improve his mood, despite what was said around the castle. Xenon drug a hand across his damp brow, glancing at the soldiers in arms who strode at his side with a growing suspicion. Who could he trust in all of Tadna that could not easily be swayed? His bloodshot eyes turned to stare straight down the shadowy corridor, and he dutifully ignored the screams of pain and despair that rose around him. The stench of rotting flesh, blood and human waste poisoned the air so that the lord was forced to part his lips and breathe through his mouth to keep from vomiting, and that only relieved the nausea slightly.

Coming upon the cell, which he assumed by the activity was the one which he had been called to, he turned to the iron gate entrance, pausing for the guard to open the rusted thing before entering. A young elf was clasped in irons against the wall; his slender torso was bare and bloody. The prized porcelain complexion was marred by gashes and burns while blood poured like water over his lithe form to pool on the floor. A brute of a man, nigh seven feet tall and broad in the chest, stood near by. He slapped a heavy whip against the palm of his hand while the swords at his side dangled on chains and clanged as they hit one another. Xenon eyed the masked, mysterious cell keeper for a moment before speaking, "What has he said?"

The reply was gruff and low, speaking volumes of the torture which its speaker had enacted without mercy, "He claims to know nothing."

The elf, seeming to have regained some form of consciousness, slipped from his groaning to raise his head, "And if I did, I would tell you nothing! Long live Thaine, and the Queen's Own!" He spit at the feet of the mortal lord, narrowing his eyes as he used his last bit of strength to lunge at the rodent figure before him. The beast at his side didn't even step forward to lash the whip across the male's chest. Exhausted, the elf gave a cry of pain before falling limp in the grasp of the irons.

Xenon gazed upon the unconscious figure with disgust before looking at the key keeper, waving a hand at the elf, "No food nor water for three days. When he wakes, whip him until he passes out again." Utterly furious, the lord kicked the molding hay where the elf had spit before whirling out of the cell. Through gritted teeth he shouted over his shoulder, "I will find out where they took that boy, even if I have to kill every elf in this damned castle!"

He stormed up the staircase, flinging his heavy fur lined cloak from his path. His accompanying guard clambered up the steps behind him, their heavy armor limiting their movement. Reaching the heavy door that led to the basement corridors of the castle, Xenon paused to compose himself before entering. The guard followed at his heel, the last of the three shutting the door behind him and then jumping to catch up to the group. The lord glanced over his shoulder as the door clicked shut, his dark eyes darting from side to side as he strode down the hall. After stepping up another staircase, he found himself in the main hall of the castle, and having a heavier chance of being intercepted as the corridor was full of the court's attendants.

Much to his unfortunate surprise and chagrin, he was indeed stopped by a figure, but it was no trivial lady or young lord, but rather the noble queen herself. Herale paced the hall, her elven attendants slight and graceful at her sides. He eyed a new young maid close to the queen's side, clenching his jaw in annoyance at the apparent constant flow of elves into the castle. Returning his attention to the queen, he conjured a charming smile and stepped to one side to receive her. He caught her slender hand in his own oily pair, bringing it to his thin lips to kiss her knuckles, "Your Highness, you grace us with your presence on such a grisly day."

Herale retracted her hand gracefully, tactfully dropping the appendage to her side and wiping it across the fabric of her dress without making a scene. Xenon, however, took note of the movement and his shoulders tensed in anticipation. The queen remained civil, a small smile pulling at the corner of her lips as she folded her hands loosely at her stomach. "I felt the chill of the mountain was too much to bear this evening, so I've come to meander in the halls with the court."

"We would hardly have it any other way, Your Majesty." Xenon's greasy smile did not falter as he spoke, interlocking his fingers behind his back. He knew by instinct that the cold-eyed woman was hiding some malicious intent, and that her striding down the main hall was no chance encounter. He knew she would hardly waste time before hitting on the hidden agenda, for the queen had never been capable of standing his presence.

Of course the queen had a secret reason for seeking out the rodent lord, unfortunately there was no way to go about addressing it. According to Thaine, Rhys was to have left with his elven nurse and a human guard, so as to meet the queen halfway in her desires. However, Rhys had left with a small group of elves, and his nurse had remained at the castle only because his kin had tearfully sought for Herale's permission for him to remain in Tadna. It was all to have gone off without a hitch, but the nurse had gone missing. The elves had searched the entire castle and had found nothing of the male, save for the dungeons. At a loss, and heeding to the desperate pleas of his family, the queen had set off to discreetly find word on his location, Xenon seemed the likely informant. "Actually, Xenon," she hesitated, taking a few steps from his guards so as to seek a bit more private conversation. The lord followed without a glance to his men, "I had wanted to ask you something."

"You may ask me anything, my Lady. I am yours to command." he grasped his hands before him, pulling on each finger individually as he anxiously waited for Herale to continue. This, no doubt, would prove interesting and perhaps profitable to his operation. He kept his eyes wide and curious, to keep her suspicions from him, though he knew he already rested well within them.

Her lips spread in a smile that only partially disguised her disgust when she turned her eyes to find him staring up at her with pathetically feigned innocent. "There seems to be trouble amongst my elves. One of their kinsmen has gone missing, Rhys' nurse that was… left behind." she said the last comment quietly, unsure if he had been made aware of the change of plans. When she was met with no surprise, both brows rose in anticipation of his reply.

Xenon, however, was prepared for such an inquiry, much to her dismay, and his features melted into a horrible display of concern. He frowned and pursed his lips, shaking his greasy hair from side to side, "The boy elf?" his brows creased in worry, "I'm afraid I've no idea where he might have fled to."

The queen tensed, her eyes narrowing as she considered the male. "Fled? What would make you believe that he had fled?"

"If he has gone missing so soon after the prince's leaving, your majesty, it can easily be assumed that he was in on the assassination attempts the entire time." he continued earnestly, retaining his disturbing façade that made Herale's skin crawl, "He must have fled to escape punishment for his failure or to follow and attempt to kill the heir again."

Fury raced through her veins like fire as adrenaline pushed its progress through her slender form. Enraged, Herale clenched her fists at either side just hidden amongst the folds of her gowns. Xenon watched, mildly amused as she gritted and relaxed her jaw before speaking, "My elves would not have had a thing to do with such vulgar doings, Lord Xenon. And no elf would step foot from Tadna without my leave!" Her pale lips lifted in a delicate snarl before she quickly reigned in her emotion. At her sides, her hands fell limp and docile as she gave the Lord the most demure smile she could manage, "Thank you, my Lord. I suppose I must simply continue searching." She heaved a heavy sigh that revealed her anger to any who caught the flicker of fire in her eyes before turning and stalking down the hall, her attendants scurrying along at her side.

Xenon allowed a slow, bold smile to contort his usually grim features, raising a thin hand to tuck a few grimy dark strands of hair behind an ear. Oh, yes, she would continue searching, for it would only be a matter of time before the damned elf died or was moved to more secretive quarters where he could be questioned further. Clearing his throat, his smile faded as he turned to his guard, "Let's go."

There were no words for the cold fear and shock that pulsed through Muna's blood-system as she turned to face whatever had scared the naiad off. Her sword hand fell limp, allowing the hilt to slip through her fingers as the blade clattered to the smooth stone. Soon after, her own knees followed, and she let her fall so that her chin was nearly neatly tucked against her collarbone. Marren was on his knees just behind her, and once Kunair had turned to see what they were bestowing reverence on, he scrambled up onto his knees as well. Rhys' eyes remained on the water, blue eyes wide in distress as he watched the ripples of the mermaid's retreat slowly smooth out.

Meanwhile, Muna slowly let her gaze rise from the ground. Two slender, yet large feet were placed not far before her, and as her eyes traveled higher, she took in the shape of an unusually tall woman. The figure's hair fell in loose rivers past her feet and lay in an odd arrayment over the soil behind her, its blue waves curling delicately over her features. She was pale, with a soft green hue and adorned in a decorated yet simple bikini, which revealed every curvature of her oddly colored skin. Her long pointed ears poked from the mass of her hair, like fins protruding from water. However, it was her large eyes that drew most of the attention, dark and depthless like the deepest part of the ocean. Muna's mouth fell slightly agape before her attention fell quickly back to her own heaving chest, "Spirit."

It was a meek response to the woman's appearance, and held an apologetic tone as if the elf had meant to apologize in full before fear closed her vocal chords. The figure, the spirit frowned and pursed her lips as she studied the four figures before her, considering them. "Why do you disturb my children?" Her voice was deep and low, laced with the magic that accompanied water and caused her voice to roll as the water fall such a short distance away. When her eyes fell upon Rhys as he turned to face her, head bowed, they widened and her brows rose, "Is this the boy?"

The mortal boy was too afraid to lift his head to spy who had addressed him, turning his eyes to his companions on either side with a questioning glance. Muna and Marren's heads remained bowed, but Kunair shifted and then stood without raising his eyes. "It was your children, Namel – Spirit of the River, that disturbed us and our prayers." He spoke boldly to the spirit, though leaving the inquiry over Rhys unanswered.

Namel turned her attention to Kunair, laughter falling over her pale parted lips like a bubbling spring over pebbles, "Oh yes, your prayers and rituals to a mother who abandoned you all those years ago." her joy was full of cruelty and malicious mirth, eyes slightly narrowed as she continued with a sarcastic air, "How the orphans weep." Silencing, she lowered her gaze to the elves once again as if she had hoped to instigate a rise from them. She was denied the pleasure of killing or torturing any elves that night, however, and she pursed her lips in disappointment when no elf moved in defiance. Slightly annoyed, she spoke again with out relinquishing her pout, "What brings you to my home? Neither elf nor man has passed by here in some time."

Muna stood, then, not raising her eyes from the smoothed surface of the boulder beneath her feet as she did so. Her raven's wing hair swayed gently at the sides of her vision as she straightened and addressed the spirit, "We're traveling to Calsena to see the Queen and her council, [husband name]." The elf left her head tucked, though her thin fingers clenched in a weak fist, as if waiting for another stinging insult.

"Are you, indeed?" the spirit sneered and her ears swayed gently in a breeze.

When she said nothing more, Muna continued quietly, "We would like to cross your river, as there is no other way to cross. We were hoping that you might part the waters to allow and dry passing." it was a meager and fruitless hope, though a hope nonetheless. Rhys risked a glance at Kunair, who had also tensed visibly though remained submissive.

Namel laughed outright, her thin frame shaking with mirth at the idea of her assisting the foul land dwellers to their destination. When her amusement faded, she spit her response with a great height of venomous content. "Help the land-lovers on their little mission?" her blue tainted lips pulled back in a vicious snarl, "Not even if the Goddess herself bid me to do so. Find your own way across, I take no responsibility for what befalls you."

Suddenly there was the sound of rain, and when it ceased, a small trickle of water began to run past Rhys' feet. His brow furrowed as he chanced to let his gaze travel upwards, though his head remained tucked. To his surprise, where the spirit had once stood, there was nothing save a fading glow. The elves were raising their eyes and Muna had bent to retrieve her sword, sliding it into the sheath strapped across her back. Marren pulled himself to his feet, casting a wary look around before speaking to Muna, "I don't trust her. I doubt we've seen the last of the great Namel."

The elves all exchanged secretive glances, features set in expressions that Rhys could hardly begin to read. His brow furrowed, though he said nothing. Kunair, breaking his eyes away from his kinsman, turned a soft smile to the mortal before leading him back toward the bank where Maed stood waiting. The dragon's face was contorted into an odd expression of both fading fear and tentative tranquility; the soil surrounding his front claws was stirred and gouged where his strong grasp had been tested. When the boy approached, the beast's expression melted into one of strength and determination, offering him a draconic smile though he remained silent.

Muna's eyes were glazed with thought as her boots made contact with the spongy moss that grew along the banks of the river. She blinked rapidly a few times, her vision clearing before she looked around as if considering their location. "We will rest here." she cast one more appraising glance before nodding, "Yes, here will do. I'll take first watch; Kunair follows then Marren and then Maed."

Rhys was somewhat perturbed that he didn't receive a watch, as children usually are when they do not clearly perceive just what it is they aren't getting. Within a few minutes, however, the packs were removed from the horses and blankets were rolled out over the soft ground. When the mortal heir laid his head upon the pillow of spare clothes, he found that whatever a watch was, he wouldn't use it much for he was already drifting off to sleep.

As the breathing of the elves and boy began to slow, the dragon raised his head from its resting place over to paws to gaze on the young elven maid. Muna, Namel will not rest so easily. When the elf made no move to contradict what was being said, Maed continued, She means to have her way. The river will not let the boy pass without an attempt to draw him into it.

For a moment, Muna continued using a thin dagger pulled from her boot to remove excess threads hanging from her cape. Her pale eyes did not rise from their concentration on the task at hand, and when she did it was slowly as if she hesitated to reply. Her own mind speech rang in the mind of the dragon, clear and ringing like bells. Maed enjoyed speaking through thought with elves, simply because of its beauty. I fear she means to take whoever she wills into the river, she paused, looking up at the creature with a calculating expression as if she were arranging her thoughts, Which makes her all the more dangerous. But we must protect the boy at all costs, for the sake of the Queen.

Maed nodded slowly, and the silence stretched between them. Rather then return to her work, Muna laid her head against the trunk of the tree she was leaning against, staring up at the stars. The dragon hesitated, considering what had just been said, before letting his own head drop to rest over his claws once again. Within the hour, his mind was able to drift off to the world between worlds, dreaming of great deeds of time past and the uncertainty of his future.

The moon was high in the sky when Kunair stirred in his sleep. His sister was leaning against the same tree she had been propped up against when he had drifted off, and as he raised his head from the ground, he tossed her a crooked smile. She was alert; he could see that by the way her pale eyes snapped from their study of a nearby bush to him as he moved. Her lips spread in a soft return smile, watching him as he pulled himself from the ground and approached her, "It's a nice night." he kept his voice soft, gaze turning to take in their campsite as he leaned against the tree next to the female.

The she-elf shifted her arms, uncrossing them to change their position before crossing them over her chest once again. "It is. Hardly a single breath of wind has rustled through the trees." her brow furrowed, her ivory eyes turning from the trees to her brother, "Mayrna sent word." This was a shock, and Kunair's features contorted into an expression of concern as he frowned. Taking that as consent to continue, Muna went on, "A nightingale swept from the trees not an hour ago. It had much to say."

Kunair's clear blue eyes searched the trees, as if expecting to see the messenger flitting amongst the branches still. His gaze swung toward the sleeping mortal child, though he knew not why, "What did the Queen have to say?"

"She sends warning, though she did not explain herself. All the bird had to relay was that we were to be careful and to protect the boy at all costs." her pale eyes narrowed, her own gaze settling on the boy as she spoke, "It's what she didn't say that leads my mind to wander."

"You believe she had a vision, then?" He glanced back at his kin, raising his hands to cross them over his own broad chest.

"I know she has, I feel it in my heart."

The silence stretched between them as Kunair's eyes grew more intense, the various meanings behind a vision flying through his mind's eye. A splash started him from his thoughts and he looked down toward the river warily. The water had ears, he knew, so nothing more was said in reference to the vision. Slowly he turned his eyes from the river to the heir to his sister, nodding gently, "Get to sleep. Your watch has lasted far long than it should have."