Maladict Bishop
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The creak of the door slowly being pushed open seemed to reverberate down the dark halls of the Bishop estate, as if it would wake every soul in the building. Grimacing, a young man slipped through the half-open portal and shut the door as quietly as he could, trusting that old Hallik–having consumed at least half a bottle of the Stout so thoughtfully gifted to him--would have succumbed to sleep and was at that moment be lying with his head on a table.
Shouldering a small bag, he padded over to the stair, being careful to avoid the third one which not only creaked, but also sagged, and once the weight was removed tended to snap back with a report that would most certainly bring the servants running.
He had planned this for weeks, leaving nothing to chance. This was the time, while his father was away on "buisness," and would not learn of the Bishop scion's departure until he'd had at least a week's head start.
But it had almost driven Maladict mad, staring at the cieling and waiting for the right hour, with nothing to do but listen to the small clock beside his bed mark the passing of seconds, minutes, hours. But now, finally, he could make good his escape.
Pushing open a window at the back of the estate, he hesitated. This was it; there was no turning back. He would be out from under his father's heel, but he could never return. Never more would he see Milla's wrinkly old face, never more could he listen to her fantastic tales of gallant knights errant, powerful sorcerers, and beautiful damsels. She had raised him, more than his father ever did.
And never more would he see Sephie, Milla's daughter. Just a year younger than Maladict, she had been his best friend for as long as he could remember. As the reality of what he was about to do truly hit him for the first time, Maladict hesitated.
Cursing himself softly for this weakness that his father hated so muchin him, Mal pushed those thoughts away and dropped to the ground outside the window, making for the stables and the calm mare he had chosen because it was less likely to make noise when woken at this hour.
He cursed again softly as he fumbled with the saddle. There wasn't much time; in a few hours the sun would rise, and his absence would be noticed.
"I wish you wouldn't leave," said a quiet voice behind him.
Whirling around in panick, he cought his foot on a protruding stone and stumbled. Small but strong hand caught him--the horse fidgeted, nervous.
"S-Sephie!" Mal whispered loudly. "What're you--how did..." He trailed off into silence, seeing the expression on the girl's beautiful face.
"Did you think I wouldn't know, Mal?" she said softly as she deftly began harnessing the horse, making soothing noises at the horse. "I knew the time would come, I... just wish it weren't so soon."
Mal watched her, openmouthed, as she finished readying the horse and turned to thrust a small package at him.
"Here," she said, not meeting his eyes. "For the road."
Wordlessly he accepted the package, and turned to mount the horse. He stopped with one foot in the stirrup. "Sephie, I--"
"Don't," came the reply. "You don't have to explain." And suddenly she was kissing him, her hand around his neck. And too soon it was over, and Sephie pulled away. Mal stared at her, slackjawed.
"Go," she whispered, tears in her eyes. "Go, or you'll never be rid of him." Sephie pushed him into the saddle, and lead his horse to the estate's side entrance.
As he rode down the Suzailian side-street, Mal looked back once, and almost changed his mind. How could he leave her, now? But Sephie waved him away, and closed the door behind her.
Riding under the pink-tinged sky of pre-dawn, it was all Maladict could do to fight off tears of his own. But the sun rose a few hours after he passed through the city gates giving him heart. He was headed for Marsember, where he could buy passage on a ship headed almost anywhere. The day was beginning anew, and so was his life.
((Edit: Whoops. Acount is same as on the forums: Codex85))
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Reviewed - XP Pending.
