Lady of Nyv

She paced back and forth as she waited. Hopefully it wouldn't be much longer, she thought, as sleep danced lustfully through her mind. Above her, the stars twinkled and an owl called to it's brothers in the night. She sighed.

The nights had been getting warmer ever since she could remember. She thought of how she loathed when spring came. She had always hated the warm weather. It just didn't feel right being warm in the North. The snow melted earlier and earlier every year. She recalled hearing stories of a time when the snow never melted anywhere in the four kingdoms. It was constantly covered in ice. How she wished she could have witnessed that. It must have been so beautiful.

She was wrenched from her thoughts suddenly as the snow crunched behind her. She turned to see him standing in the moonlight. She smiled and embraced him lightly. "You're late." She mumbled into his chest. Dom had always been taller than her, despite being the younger twin. He laughed. "I apologize, dearest Ona. Can you ever forgive me?" "I don't know," she sighed. Dom dropped down onto one knee in front of her. She resisted the urge to laugh at her overly-dramatic brother, and listened to what he had to say. "But, I've brought you a present." He said, looking up at her in mock sadness.

She looked into his deep violet eyes, their colour barely visible in the night. She and Dom had grown up together- even though their childhood had been short-lived-, it was still impossible for her to think of him as anything other than what he was- her brother. But as she watched the light dance in his wide eyes, she caught a glimpse of how other women must look at him. It wasn't hard to say he was attractive, but she could never picture herself sleeping with him. Not like many of the other siblings in the kingdoms. She shook her head to push the thoughts from her mind.

"What is it?" "A man. I found him burning houses south of here." She smiled, "Where is he?" Dom gave no response, but instead walked off the way he came. Ona took a step in his direction, but he turned and motioned for her to wait. He returned a few moments later dragging a man by his scarf. Ona looked at the man, comparing his size to her own. She could tell, by the look in Dom's eyes, that he wanted to kill this man. She decided she needed to act quickly before Dom did anything to compromise the man's well-being. "Don't kill him!" Ona called. "He's mine." Dom, slightly surprised, and perhaps a little lugubrious, hesitantly dropped the man in the snow and stepped back.

Ona stepped forward and knelt down in front of the man. She noticed he had dark brown eyes, a common characteristic of a Southerner. She wanted to know who this man was and what he was doing here. The thought of a Southerner in the North nearly made her physically ill. The very thought of it was vile. "What is your name?" She asked sweetly. It was always good to be courteous when conversing with people, It gives them a false sense of security and comradery. Even Southerners deserve your respect at first. "That is none of your concern, wench." The man snarled. She growled at him, baring her teeth. She remembered why the people of the North never associated themselves with Southerners. They were all foul-mouthed, uncultured swine.

"You will refer to me as 'Lady', peasant." She said in a mocking tone. He looked up at her, "Whore," he spat. She decided she would be doing the kingdoms a favour if she were to maim or more likely, kill, this disgusting excuse for a man. She lunged, grabbing the man's throat from behind. She dug her nails into the soft flesh of his neck and pressed her lips to his ear. "I ought to snap your neck, but it would be too sweet of a death for such a pathetic, disrespectful little man." She tossed him aside, and quickly realized that her last dagger, and only weapon, had been left behind with her last victim.

"Brother, throw me your dagger." Dom did as she said, and carelessly tossed the dagger toward her. The blade sliced through the air and landed in the snow just by her feet. She picked it up, and knelt beside the man once again. Her eyes never left his as she pried his mouth open and inserted her brother's dagger. The Southern filth closed his mouth in an effort to bite her. She laughed at his stupidity and thanked him for making her job so much easier before moving her wrist in one swift motion to the side. She felt a slight resistance as the blade worked hard to cut through the dense muscle in his mouth.

There was no noise, just the sound of his blood dripping into the snow. She used the dagger to pry his jaw open. Then, she reached inside his blood-soaked mouth and extracted his tongue. "There's your lesson on manners, peasant." She threw the tongue, dripping with blood, into the snow at Dom's feet. The man bent forward on the ground, choking. He spat out mouthful after mouthful of his own blood into the snow.

Ona turned toward the man on the ground, and studied his bent form. She was glancing around the forested area, plotting her next move, when Dom called her name sharply. "Ona! He's dying!" She whipped her head around to look at the man, indeed, he seemed to be losing consciousness, his eyes had rolled back into his head, revealing the whites. She whirled and slapped him hard across the face. He wasn't allowed to die. She wasn't finished playing yet. His eyes rolled forward, and his body jerked into a sitting position. She managed a sigh of relief. She hated when her playtime was cut short because her opponent was too weak.

He then made the most unearthly noise that could be heard throughout the four kingdoms. His face contorted with pain, and although his tongue lay bloodied and throbbing slightly in the winter snow, he still managed to scream as though a demon had possessed him.

Dom looked around in all directions, making sure no one had heard. Ona would be disappointed to see new victims and have to let them go. They only had one dagger, after all.

She waited for him to stop his pitiful writhing and whimpering, stood, and walked slowly in a circle around the sobbing mass. Now that he had been efficiently saved from death, she was allowed to resume her plotting. She twirled the dagger in her fingers, teasing him. He followed her every movement warily, flinching every time she moved an inch closer. She was enjoying keeping him in suspense. She could see the fear plainly in his eyes. He was utterly terrified. She smiled, and lunged again.

She reached for his wrist this time, pushing his back to the ground. She sat on his chest, pinning him there, helpless. She could feel his heart beating rapidly. The last beats that it will ever have, she thought as an evil grin spread wide across her face. She grabbed his right wrist and held it in front of his face, so he could see. He whimpered, and attempted to pull his wrist free. This only made Ona tighten her grip until she heard one of the bones snap. His face contorted in pain and his eyes attempted to plead with her, begging for mercy. She paid him no mind, and began smoothing down four of his five fingers, making sure to leave the second last finger standing.

Calmly, she grabbed the dagger, and in one smooth stroke, hacked off the finger. She met his dark eyes and smiled, although she was sure he had been blinded by his agony. His eyes didn't seem to be able to focus properly once she removed the finger. She wanted him to be conscious for his entire punishment so, she decided to snap him back to reality with a false promise of clemency.

"Mercy, peasant?" She asked sweetly. His eyes snapped into focus, and his head nodded vigorously. He tried to speak; but, succeeded in only making an extremely satisfying gurgling noise. "What's the matter? Have the demons caught your tongue?" She cackled maniacally, and dropped his mangled hand. "Very witty, sister." Dom said, seeming uninterested. "You seem dissatisfied, brother. How can I appease you?" Ona asked, trying to sound interested in what he had to say. "Stop toying with him." Dom demanded. Ona made no reply.

She watched as the blood soaked into snow, melting it with it's smooth warmth. The entire forest would be blood-soaked by the time she was done with this Southerner, she thought. She looked over at Dom, who was leaning against a nearby tree. She decided that since he was here, and he had been the one to graciously give up his victim for her own entertainment, the least she could do was attempt to include him. "Brother," Ona called, "How else can we make this fool pay? It'd be such a shame to allow him to live with only a few minor scratches." She watched, delighted, as Dom's face changed from placid to thoughtful. She waited patiently to see what he would come up with. He smiled suddenly, "Chain him to a tree and remove his organs." Her mouth fell open a little. Why hadn't she thought of that? She had the urge to embrace her brother, but instead smiled politely, nodded, and turned back to the peasant.

Since she and Dom had been distracted and openly discussing the peasant's death, they should have expected that he would have tried to crawl away, but somehow Dom was still surprised. Ona, however, was not. The only reason she had not killed Dom was because the trail of blood that the peasant had left was much too easy to follow, and she was able to track him down in an instant.

She found the pathetic being ten steps into the forest and dragged him back. He desperately tried to crawl against her grip. His fingers left large scratch marks in the snowy earth, along with a large trail of blood from his mangled hand and his mouth, which he had opened as if to scream. Dom moved toward Ona and the man, silently offering his assistance. Ona did not want her brother's help. She ignored his kindness and continued to fight with the peasant. Suddenly, she dropped the peasant and jumped onto both of his hands, landing hard. She heard many cracks as both of his hands were shattered. "That should teach you not to struggle with your executionner." Ona whispered into his ear. She decided to add a twist to Dom's idea and suspended the peasant from a tree using his scarf. The peasant hung by his feet about ten inches from the ground.

Dom was leaning against a tree and patiently awaited the show. He had always admired Ona for the way she handled every situtation with such grace and aggression. She was never disorganized. He watched closely as the man struggled against his bindings that suspended him in a large tree. He was much more interested now that Ona was including him. Usually he wouldn't mind, but he loathed Southerners and felt a little stupid for having passed this one on. It was better this way, he told himself. She's doing wonderfully and he was looking forward to see how she would take care of the swinging man.

Ona walked toward the man, who was trembling and causing the fabric that suspended him to sway. She decided not to stop it's movement, and to instead have some fun, take a stab. She aimed the dagger as best she could, stepped back five paces, and threw. The dagger flew through the air, spinning as it sped toward her target. Ona was afraid for a moment that only the hilt would hit him, and not the blade.

Thankfully, her worries were not needed as the blade made contact with what seemed like the desired location. It landed a few inches higher than she had originally intended, but the result was much more to her liking.

The dagger had penetrated both the fabric between his legs and what lay underneath, and was now stuck firmly into the tree.

Ona looked down at the peasant and sighed. He was dead. It was the end of her amusement for the day. She ripped the dagger out of the tree and his severed manhood, and walked calmly back to Dom. She handed him back his bloodied dagger, and started back to town. "We have to leave now." Ona stated. "What about him?" Dom asked, gesturing to the fool hanging from a tree.

Ona didn't care what became of the peasant. She was done with him, nothing else mattered. He was dead anyway. "Leave him. Mayhaps the wolves will eat him, although I'm not quite sure if they enjoy the taste of Southern filth." Dom shook his head, smiling, "You were given dark powers. I must say I'm rather envious." He said to her, as he wiped his dagger in the snow. Ona laughed, "Come," she beckoned. Visions of her own dagger, and other various weapons danced seductively in her head. She knew where they had to go. "It's time we paid a visit to Raj."

The two walked back to town the way Ona had come just a few hours ago. They meandered through the dense forest, careful to watch their step and follow Ona's original prints in the snow underfoot. Suddenly, the snow started to fall quite heavily in large chunks, making it hard for them to see. Dom hoped Ona knew where she was going. He couldn't remember the last time he had visited the town of Nyv.

When it came time to cross the narrow river that surrounded the town, Dom was first to notice the thin cracks in the ice. "Shall we jump?" He asked his sister. The river seemed narrow enough to jump over, but it seemed Ona had another idea. She gave no response, and instead ran ahead, leaving Dom behind. She did not slow her pace until she was standing on the riverbank parallel to her very surprised brother. "Dom! You have to run!" Ona called to him. Dom looked down at the river. All the ice was separating from it's neighbour, and floating downstream. He knew he wouldn't be able to get proper footing if he ran. He would drown. He couldn't even see the bottom of the river.

"You've cracked all the ice! I'll fall through!" He whined. "Not if you're quick!" Ona replied with a smile. Dom took a few steps back toward the forest, and ran, leaping at the last second. He soared over the river, and landed safely a few feet from the edge of the river. He walked over to where Ona stood, mouth wide open in shock. "I told you we could have jumped." Ona said nothing, but continued walking toward Nyv.

The river they had just crossed had a rather morbid history. It was said that during the Separation War when the East fought the North for independence, a very, very long time ago, the Northerners slaughtered most of the Eastern people because they had sided with the South and not with the North. All the blood shed drained into a natural trench around the city causing the ground to erode further, thus creating the river.

Ona explained this to Dom as they walked toward the city. "You see," She began, "When King Rhu of the North wouldn't give King Ghan of the East the freedom that he and his people desired, King Ghan declared war on King Rhu and his people. King Rhu was not happy, as you can imagine. His crops were burnt, his people were being slaughtered in their beds. But, due to the natural trench from hundreds of years past, King Ghan and his armies could not reach King Rhu in the Capital, which is presently know as Nyv."

She watched as Dom's eyes widened. "King Rhu decided to take matters into his own hands. He constructed an army of all the people, men and women, who lived in the city. He made them fight, and fight they did. They crossed the river with no difficulty, and slaughtered the Eastern rebels. All the blood, Northern and Eastern alike, drained into that river, which was said to have the depth of a thousand years." Ona finished. Dom appeared pale, as he glanced back at the rushing water.

The two continued walking until they reached the center of the town. Ona noticed the Sun had started to rise, and increased their pace. She disliked being out in the sunlight, she felt so vulnerable. They walked briskly through the streets, passing taverns, a few houses, a farm, and a brothel.

As they walked, Ona told Dom stories of the times before their present king, King Sra. She told stories of the Middle Lands, and how they had come to be. "It all started as a meeting place for thieves," She began. Her voice took a dream-like tone as she recited the tale from memory. "The scoundrels and thieves would make camp in the trees, awaiting hunters or the odd wanderer. Once they spotted a victim, they would pounce, steal their goods, clothing, weapons, and kill them. Word spread, and King Rhu IV, the second king before our present king, sent a small army to drive the thieves South.

The people of the North and the people of the South have had an on-going feud since the beginning of time." Ona stopped to catch her breath. "No one knows why it was started, some say the founders were feuding brothers who passed down their hatred through the centuries. The Northern armies fought to push the thieves South, but weren't successful. The thieves were stubbord and knew the forests and mountains better than the Northerners. So, King Rhu IV declared the it to be the Land of Thieves, or the Middle Lands, and named it the official barrier between the North and the South." She finished, and looked toward Dom, he said nothing. She increased her pace once again. Ona did not slow until she reached the armory.

Dom pushed open the door of the armory and they filed in. The shop was dim, and there was a short, well-built man sharpening an axe in the corner. He had the look of an Eastern man; black hair, short, and bright blue eyes. "Greetings, Raj!" Ona called out cheerfully, "How are my weapons coming along?" She asked, eyeing the axe in his hand, hoping it had been made for her. She envisioned herself with an axe hanging from her fist and suppressed a smile.

The man stopped what he was doing and walked toward the pair, the axe dangling from his right fist. He lit a candle, illuminating the messy room. There were weapons everywhere. They lay on every surface, and were littered all over the floor. It was like a warzone. Ona expected there to be dead bodies in piles around the shop.

He brought the candle close to Ona's face. "You, my dear, are a mess. What stupid creature crossed your path?" Ona laughed, "A meer peasant, Raj. No one of great status, just a petty thief." She thought back to the disgusting excuse for a man that she had left in the forest. She hoped desperately that the wolves had ripped his body apart. Even though he was dead, she still wished for him to suffer. Raj patted her on the back and led her to a wooden table in the center of the room.

There was a vast assortment of weapons on the table; a hatchet, a silver dagger, a small morningstar, and a maul. Her eyes lit up with excitement as she lifted each one carefully, examining them for any imperfections, and weighing them to be sure her aim was precise. Once she was satisfied, Dom paid Raj in gold coins, and they started for the door.

"Ona," Raj called. She turned to face him. "You're drenched in another man's blood." She looked down at her clothing, and saw that she was red and dark brown all over. Even her nails were caked in blood, and strands of her hair had turned crusty as the blood dried. She hadn't realized it was that obvious. If it were still dark she would have walked to her residence and washed there. She looked outside, and saw the Sun had risen far too much for that to be possible. She cursed under her breath. She didn't have time to stop, but she had no choice. "Do you have any place for me to wash myself?" She inquired hesitantly.

She would have to be very quick, she decided as Raj led her upstairs to a small room with a bed and a basin of water. He tossed her a torn shirt and departed with Dom, leaving her alone. Ona dampened the slightly smelly shirt and began to scrub at her face and body roughly. Once she was convinced that she was relatively free of gore, she drained the shirt and basin and left Raj's modest bedroom.

She met Dom at the front door, and felt Raj's eyes on her once again. "Much better." Raj said. "It's very fortunate you're not fair haired," he continued, "The blood would stain it with any luck. Although your eyes would be better complimented by a lighter hair colour." She thought of her amber eyes. "I think my hair is fine the way it is." Ona said defensively. She could see that Raj was hurt by her tone of voice, but she did not care. "I only meant that-" Ona cut him off. "Pleasure doing business with you, as always." She finished sourly, and walked out without bothering to wait for her brother.

She heard Dom's footsteps running down the street after her. He put his hand on her shoulder and she spun to face him, anger flashed across her face. She hated any form of physical contact. "You shouldn't be angry with Raj," Dom began, "You know he's looking for a wife. He's never sure of what to say." She sighed.

She was aware that Raj's wife, a Southern woman named Kitana, had been murdered just last spring. She had witnessed her death, and shuddered at the memory. It was Raj's fault, he never should have married Southern filth, especially with the feud becoming more intense every decade.

Ona avoided the subject as much as she could. She hated when people tried to make her pity them. "I have to meet with the other Members soon. It'd be best if you found something with which to occupy your time whilst I'm gone." Dom nodded, and made his way to the nearest brothel. She smiled to herself, she and her brother both had passions. The only difference was that while she enjoyed taking lives, Dom seemed to more enjoy making them; and he certainly got around.

She cut in between the brothel and a small house and was about to climb over a stone wall, when someone grabbed her from behind and threw her against the wall of the brothel. Her breath was knocked out of her as she hit the hard stone.

One of her attacker's hands moved to the nape of her neck, pushing her face into the rough stone. Something hard, she hoped an elbow, pushed into her back between her shoulder blades, crushing her chest into the wall. The change in pressure from her face to her chest allowed her to turn slightly to glimpse her attacker, and to breathe easier. She tilted her head to the left slightly, but immediately regret that decision as the overpowering stench of ale nauseated her. She remained pressed against the wall, unable to inhale a breath of clean air.

"You," the seriously inebriated man mumbled, pressing his lips against her ear. "are a very pretty girl." He continued drunkenly, his words sounding as loud as a hundred horses in her ears. She struggled against his grip, scraping her face on the rough stone in the process. His hand started to make it's way to her chest. Before he reached his desired location, she grabbed his hand and pressed four of his fingers against the back of his hand. She heard the loud pop as they were removed from their proper place. She smiled and whipped around as the pressure that had been holding her against the wall disappeared.

He clutched his hand to his chest and screamed loudly. She kicked him behind the knee and he fell to the ground. He curled into a ball and remained on the ground, sobbing. "You are a pathetic excuse for a man." Ona said as she walked toward him once again. "Wouldn't you like to fight for your life?" She tempted the man with the promise of clemency, as she had with the last man. The drunk looked up at her, unsure of whether or not to trust this strange woman. "What must I do?" He asked. Ona smiled, but said nothing. He asked her again, and when she refused to speak, he stood and lunged for her, grabbing her by the waist.

She clawed at his cheek, leaving deep bloody gashes. He released her once again, and used his good hand to cover the new wounds. She took advantage of this sudden distraction, unsheathed her dagger and thrust it into him, just under his ribs. She watched as air failed him, and dragged the dagger down to just below his navel, pushing it deeper, in order to tear open all of his organs. His limp form fell into the freshly fallen snow, and blood gushed out of the gaping hole in his midsection, as well as his mouth and nose.

She removed the dagger, and kicked his side so that his torn intestines leaked out of the gaping hole down the center of his body. She smiled at her handiwork. She struggled to find a piece of his clothing that was not soaked in blood. Eventually she found a piece of his pants that had not been drenched, and wiped off her dagger, then spat on his body. "Filthy pervert." She muttered, and climbed over the stone wall behind the brothel.

She followed the narrow street on the other side of the wall until she reached a farm. From there, she turned West and continued on her way until she reached a large stone wall. She smiled, she was nearly at her residence. She hoped the Members could forgive her for being a few minutes late.

She walked toward the gates as was about to enter when one of the guards stopped her, "Excuse me, peasant-" The guard at the gate began, but held his tongue once he saw her face. She turned toward him and glared fiercely at him with her chatoyant eyes. He dropped to one knee and bowed his head, realizing his grave mistake. "Forgive me, Lady Ona." He begged. "I know not what I say." "Damn right you don't." She said to him calmly, as her fingers twitched toward the morningstar on her left hip. She restrained herself, thinking of the possible consequences that would be in order for her if she were to kill this guard. The King's advisor would be angered by the loss of yet another guard by her hand.

She motioned for him to stand. "You are pardoned." She said, glaring at him coldly. "For now, at least. Do not cross me again." His face flushed with relief. "Many thanks and blessings to you, M'Lady." He reached for her hand, as if to kiss it to beg for forgiveness or show his gratitude. She ripped her hand away from his grasp, and grabbed her morningstar.

She brought it down onto his head with all the force she could muster. Despite the metal helmet he wore, the power of the blow broke his neck. He lay there motionless. She motioned for his fellow guards to raise the gate, and they did so without question. She stepped under the heavy iron structure.