Devon and Nerissa - Part One Here| Raffaele and Nerissa - Part Two Here
"Boy, you know there aren't any ships around here going across the seas. At least not for a few months when the trade routes are more active," Bones, the old barkeep at one of the taverns on the dock said to him in his scratchy and broken voice. The man looked ancient and like he was near a skeleton figure, hence the nickname given to him. Devon didn't even know his real name.
The Rogue dipped his head back and closed his eyes in frustration for a moment, letting out a breath. "I know. Figured I would ask anyway in case you heard something."
"What's got you in such a rush anyway?" The man leaned in a bit closer as he continued wiping the bar with a rag as not to be heard by the others who were mingling about in his establishment that night. "Your business doesn't take you that far."
"No, this is personal," Devon replied quietly, looking down to the mead in a moment of despair that he'd been gifted by Bones before drinking the nearly full cup down in one go. He shook out his shoulders and let the feeling fade. Failing Nerissa was not an option. They had to find a way. He would find a way.
He slid the empty drink towards Bones for a refill, dumping some coin on the bar top to pay for it as well as the information and storehouse the Rogues got to use here for their newly acquired hauls. Devon leaned on the bar and waited until he felt someone entirely too close for his liking at his back. His hand lowered casually to rest on his thigh, near to the dagger around his waist.
"No need for that," the unfamiliar voice came. It was low and calm, but Devon didn't move his hand. The man put his back against the bar and looked over to him. He had a dark complexion and accent that meant he wasn't from around here. Devon tried to think of who he might be and when he possibly slighted him or whoever he worked for in the past. From his demeanor alone, he knew this person was not going to be easy to take on if it came to it. "We should talk outside."
He raised an eyebrow and scoffed at the request. "No, thanks. I'm enjoying a quiet drink with my friend here," Devon replied, raising the cup up towards Bones who had just placed it down and gave a wary look to the stranger.
"It's about Nerissa." This caught his attention. Devon turned fully to the man now and stood up to face him, his hand gripping on the handle of the dagger. "The fae king has her."
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Never in his life had Devon felt as ill as he did now. The world was a complete blur. All he remembered was walking through the forest and then everything went askew. His head was pounding and his stomach turned. He'd thrown up the contents of his stomach twice and then there was nothing but dry heaving after. He stumbled onward until he could no more finally falling face first into the ground, going in and out of consciousness.
A shadow seemed to wrap him up and it felt like he was flying. Odd thing for a human to be doing. Despite how completely out of it he was, Devon realized it was this Raffaele who was carrying him since he could no longer walk. His mind was too in a fog to even process what was happening, but then there were bright spots of light coming from a massive tree and he was being dumped onto the floor. Or what he thought was a floor. It was more like moss covered grass, soft and cool, which was a slight relief on his dampened skin given how he was feeling.
There were figures around him, but he couldn't quite make them out. One he did recognize, even though his mind was dazed. "Nerissa?" She appeared to be on her knees and bound. Devon pulled himself up slightly, but slipped back to the ground.
"Humans..." A new voice. Condescending and smug. The person was in front of him, pushing his barefoot against his shoulder and knocking him back over with ease. "So weak."
"If you don't give him the wine, he won't last much longer." Raffaele's voice then. Devon felt like he was being stabbed by a thousand needles in his insides. Raffaele had warned him this would be the outcome of entering into the fae kingdom as well as whatever the king wanted to do in the way of torture, but the Rogue didn't care. If the king had Nerissa, it meant her death and maybe now his.
The king, or so he presumed must be the king, stepped away from him and walked back over to Nerissa with a delighted, but unnerving smile. "Tell me everything or you get to watch him die. Painfully."
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