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A Princely Capture

"Stop right there, stowaway!" yelled the captain of the ship's guard. A couple of heavily armored soldiers came bursting out of the main cabin, chasing after a swift, red vulpine. His loose pants and long sleeved shirt billowed behind him as he darted around the clanking dogs after him. The armored dogs growled at the fox as he made his way towards the bow of the ship.

Standing alone on the bow stood a small, lone figure clothed in nothing but twilight. His cat-like tail flicked back and forth without a care in the world. He tried to block out the commotion near the rear of the vessel until he could hear the clanking of metal boots on wood getting nearer to him. The young boy was surprised to find a ghastly looking figure running straight toward him when he turned around.

"Hold it right there! You're my way off this boat," the red fox said. He grabbed the boy's shoulder and whipped him around to use him as a living shield. A small blade seemed to appear out from under his sleeve, and he held it up to the cat boy's neck. The soldiers all stopped in their tracks. One bumped into another and they fell to the wooden deck of the ship. "That's the ticket," the fox said. He grabbed the boy's arm and began to drag him along the rail of the ship, keeping the blade to his neck.

The two quickly made their way past the soldiers along the side of the ship, keeping to the railing. The soldiers had gathered themselves and were after the two with renewed vigor. Hanging along the side of the ship near the rear was a little dinghy. The fox threw the boy into the small boat and hopped in himself. "It's been a pleasure ladies, but its time I be off," he said with a gentlemanly wave. With a quick swipe of his hand, the blade cut the two ropes holding the dinghy in place, and the two went crashing down into the sea. The soldiers all clamored to the railing to watch the small craft fall down to the ocean. One soldier turned to the guard captain, "He has Prince Alrich sir! What do we do?"

The boy held on to the side of the boat for dear life. He didn't know what to do in a situation like that, so he kept quiet and let his captor do all the work. And there wasn't much work to do. There was a strong wind blowing down from the north where they had been coming from, and the large vessel was designed to traverse the seas quickly. In only a few minutes the large ship had disappeared over the horizon.

The fox kept quiet while he hoisted the small sail and set their course. The boy huddled in the corner of the boat and shivered in both fear and cold. Finally, as their path was set, the fox sat down to take a breath and inventory. "What're you lookin' at?" he mumbled to the shivering, white cat as he reached around his side and pulled up a small bag that had been tied to the waist of his loose fitting pants. "What a score!" The bag jingled with the sound of many golden coins and jewels that he had no doubt swiped from the storage deck.

"W-what are you g-going to do with m-me?" the boy asked as he shivered in the corner of the dinghy.

The fox didn't even look up; too preoccupied with the gold that he had stolen, "I'll probably wait for the cold to kill you, then toss you overboard so's I can get back to port faster."

"Well, what about y-you? T-the cold will g-get you t-too," the boy stammered out. He rubbed his hands up and down his arms and pulled his legs as close to his body as he could manage.

"Not hardly," the fox calmly stated. He reached around and pulled up a small satchel that had been hanging around his shoulders. He fished around in the bag for a moment before procuring a small, red jewel hanging about a thin, leather strap. He hung the jewel about his neck and it began to glow in a soft, red light. The boy could feel warmth emanating from the opposite end of the craft, and the fox leaned back and relaxed.

The small, white cat couldn't resist the temptation of the warmth. The sun had set, and the moonlight over the Freezing Sea was not enough to sustain him. He slowly crept over to the relaxing fox, but was stopped dead by one of his footpaws resting on his chest, keeping him at bay. "P-please don't d-do t-this," the boy pleaded.

"And why not? What's going to stop me?" the fox responded. He kept his foot where it was and played with the small blade that he had kept cleverly hidden in his long sleeves. Even without the magic jewel, the fox had a better chance of surviving the cold than the naked boy.

The boy thought for a moment. He had to get warm. He had begun to lose feeling in his toes and in the tip of his tail. "B-because y-you're not a k-killer. Or y-you would h-have k-killed me earlier."

The fox pondered this for a moment before lifting his footpaw off of the boy's chest. The small cat quickly climbed over to the fox and snuggled up against his warmth. The fox instinctively tried to jerk away, but stopped short and just let the cat snuggle against him. The fabric of his clothing was soft, worn, and torn in a few places. But it was warm, and that was all the boy cared about.

Now that he was closer, he could see his captor better in the dim light of the night. His rust red fur was matted and dirty compared to his immaculately well cared for, pure white fur. His face was well weathered as if from one who has traveled the world a hundred times over. The boy's face was young and full of innocence. A black eye patch covered his left eye, and though the fox looked beaten and scarred, his one eye held a youth not much older than the boy's. It was then that the fox caught the young boy looking him up and down. "Something I can help you with?"

The boy suddenly looked away, embarrassed that he had been looking at all. "N-no sir."

"What's your name, boy?" the fox suddenly asked.

The boy was struck dumb for a moment. He had not been expecting to give his name, much less survive this encounter. "My name is Al-Al... Elliot," he stammered out. He didn't want to give his captor his real name for obvious reasons.

"Well, Elliot, you should get some rest. We'll be reaching the small town of Garren's Port before morning. I'll wake you when we get there." That was all he said before he closed his eye. Alrich, Elliot, was relieved that he was safe for the moment at least. He had been afraid that his captor would kill or torture him. But now it seemed as if he didn't care, or maybe cared just a little.

He did not close his eyes though. Excitement still ran through him from earlier in the evening. Only a few, quiet moments had passed since the fox had closed his eye before Elliot asked, "If you don't mind me asking, what is your name?"

The fox grumbled and shifted underneath the cat before opening his good eye and glaring at him. Elliot looked away, afraid of his retribution. "Eman," he said plainly before closing his eye and turning his head away. The boy relaxed against the warm fox, reveling in his warmth. For the moment, he was warm and relatively safe. He would worry about getting back home later.

Sunlight pierced Elliot's eyes, and he could feel a rough shove against his shoulder. "C'mon, get up, boy," Eman said to the cat, shoving him awake with his foot. He stood alone on a small dock. "I suggest you get out of the boat, boy, unless you want to attend your own funeral."

Upon hearing this, Elliot quickly scrambled over the edge of the boat and climbed up onto the dock. Eman had taken the sail down and covered the boy with the thick, rough fabric. He then proceeded to shove the little dinghy back out to sea. He held a still lit lamp that had been hanging on the dock and tossed it into the boat. The glass shattered upon impact, sending oil and flames all over the little boat. "What did you do that for? How are we going to get back?" Elliot asked, pacing back and forth on the dock.

"Back? Who said anything 'bout going back?" Eman asked. He shrugged his shoulders, tightened his shirt about him and turned to walk away.

Elliot saw this and ran after him, "Wait! Where are you going?"

Eman reached down to his belt and patted the small bag hanging there. "I have enough coin for ale and wenches for a month, and I plan on spending a month enjoying those two things," he said, continuing on his way. "You're on your own now, boy."

"What?! You can't just leave me here, by myself!" Elliot yelled at the fox. He used his authoritative voice, and it only made the fox angry.

"You're lucky you're still alive! I could have just let you die, and come to think of it, I should have! You'd be quieter then," he yelled in return. Some of the dockworkers that had come out with the sun were starting to gather around the two. Some of them swam out to the burning boat to check for survivors, while others gathered in small groups, gossiping and talking about the two newcomers to their little port city.

Eman turned to leave again before the crowd got too much bigger. "Can... Can I please come with you?" Elliot begged the angry vulpine. He was lost, and alone, and he didn't want to be. He didn't care if he was with the irate fox, so long as he was with a familiar face.

Eman whipped around to glare at the boy, but found he couldn't. He was standing all alone, wrapped up pathetically in the torn sail of the burning dinghy, and almost to the point of tears. He knew he was going to regret it later, but Eman grabbed the boy's arm and began dragging him off of the docks, grumbling to himself as they left.

Elliot was glad that Eman had decided to take him along. "Maybe he can take me back to the Capital, where ever that is," he thought to himself. He looked around at the small little city on the water of the Freezing Seas. He had not been away from the Capital very often, and had not gotten a chance to see all the towns and peoples living within the Empire.

Garren's Port was a small town. No building rose above two stories, and all were made of wood chopped from the nearby forest, or of baked clay from the sea and sun. The inhabitants were mostly water dwelling creatures. There were a combination of dolphins, whales, and seals wandering the streets and beginning their days. Most were wearing small pieces of cloth for modesty, or nothing at all. Elliot didn't feel as embarrassed as he had before, but he blushed still, knowing he was naked underneath the sail.

Only a few passersby glanced at the odd couple walking down the dirt roads. And even then, they were only passing glances before they moved on with their lives. This made Elliot feel a little more comfortable that no one seemed to recognize him by sight.

As they were passing by a row of shops, a delicious smell caught Elliot's nose. Eman had let go of his arm long ago, and so the cat boy simply stopped where he was to take in the wonderful aroma. A small bakery was set up on the corner of the street, and Elliot gravitated over towards it. The smell of the rolls and pastries was intoxicating to him.

"You see something you like, hmm?" a hefty seal asked from behind the counter. He waved to some of his goods he had displayed on the counter top.

Elliot closed his eyes and breathed in the scent deeply, enjoying all the unique smells at once. "I like it all," he said. He couldn't make up his mind what he wanted.

"Well how 'bout a fresh baked roll to get yer day started, eh," he said, wrapping up a soft, still steaming roll. The seal held out an open hand, waiting for payment. Elliot was confused at first until he figured out what the male wanted. He reached down to fish out a golden sovereign before he remembered that he wasn't wearing anything at all. "What? No money? Now we're gonna have a problem, boy!"

The seal snarled at Elliot, and he began to back away before he felt a soft hand upon his shoulder. "This should cover it," a familiar voice said from behind him. Elliot saw a single gold coin flip through the air and land on the seal's snout. Eman reached out from behind him and grabbed the wrapped up roll, and they continued down the road. He handed Elliot the roll, and bit into one of his own that seemed to appear out of nowhere.

"W-where did you get that?" Elliot asked as he nibbled into his own soft roll.

"It doesn't matter, now does it," Eman said, taking on a cocky tone. Things always seemed to just appear in his possession. The two walked down the road, munching on their rolls. Elliot wasn't sure where they were headed, but Eman seemed to know. Before too long, they neared the outer edge of the city. Eman held up a hand and Elliot stopped on his command. They were on the last street of Garren's Port, next to a dark alley way. "Stay here until I come back," he commanded, and Elliot obeyed.

Eman crept down the dark alley, passing a strange black marking on the corner of one the buildings. It was a crudely drawn knife, or dagger. Elliot waited on the corner of that street for what seemed like hours. The sun was high in the sky, and he was just thinking about leaving on his own, even though he didn't want to, when Eman emerged from the darkness. He had a change of clothes on him now. He now had a pair of better fitting, dark brown pants, and a dark green, long sleeved, laced padded shirt. He also was wearing some black, padded traveling socks. He still had his satchel around his shoulder, and his purse, now attached to a brand new leather belt with a silver buckle with a dagger etched into it, almost seemed bigger.

Eman held out a pair of cream colored pants to Elliot, "Go ahead and put these on. It was all I could find in your size." Elliot took the pants graciously, but stood motionless. "What's the matter? Put them on so we can get going," Eman said, getting a little frustrated. Elliot nodded sheepishly. He did not want to disrobe in front of anyone, but the street was empty except for the two. He let the torn sail fall from his small frame, exposing himself to his captor for a moment, before hopping into the pants and cinching them up around his waist. "That's the ticket."

"Thank you, sir," Elliot said. He was not used to thanking anyone, but felt that if he didn't, Eman would leave him there. He always seemed ready to up and leave him at a moment's notice.

Eman remained quiet for some time as the walked down the dirt road and out of town. "No need to thank me," he quickly and quietly mumbled after several minutes. He thought that he wasn't heard, but Elliot did hear him, and he smiled to himself. After a few more minutes of awkward silence, "There should be an inn just a little ways out of town. We'll stop there and rest for the night before moving on. I hope you know what you're getting into by traveling with me."

Elliot paid no mind to what Eman had said. He was looking about him, at the endless fields of little yellow flowers and green grasses on either side of them. It looked like they had entered another ocean, only this one was green. The sun was beginning to set, and Elliot couldn't believe they had been walking almost all day long; though his feet sure felt like it. He wished he had the same socks as Eman as each step began to pain him. Just when he felt like he had to stop, a small building appeared on the horizon, and behind it was an almost oppressive looking forest.

They neared the sturdy looking inn, and could see smoke billowing out from the tall chimney. The sign hanging above the door read The Lonely Crow Inn. There was much sound emanating from the other side of the door. It sounded as if there were many travelers taking refuge at the inn that night. Eman opened the door, and everybody quieted down for a moment to examine the patrons before resuming their conversations. The two walked over to an empty booth in the corner of the room, and a busty blue jay girl came over to take their orders. "I'll have an ale, and the boy'll have some water. It's been a long journey for us, miss," Eman said, winking at the girl, making her giggle and blush as she left to get their drinks.

After Eman had had a drink or two, Elliot got enough courage to speak, "How did you lose your eye?" The question had been burning in his mind since he had seen the eye patch, but he didn't the courage to ask it.

Eman didn't seem to mind the question. He was still sober enough to know the boy was curious, but relaxed enough to answer a question or two. "I got this parting gift in a bar fight up in a place called Duboise, far to the north of here, cross the Freezing Seas." He shot the tavern wench a glance, and she giggled under his gaze again. She gestured towards the stairs and began to climb them. "Well, boy, I think I'll turn in for the night. Don't... don't come up for a while. Find someone to tell you some stories, right. That's the ticket." Eman patted Elliot on the head and guzzled down the rest of his ale before followed the wench up the stairs.

Elliot didn't want to be cooped up in the dimly lit, smoky tavern, so he wandered outside. There was a cool breeze blowing in from the west, from the dark forest. He wrapped his arms around naked upper half to try and stave off the chill of the coming night. There was a bench sitting near the front door to the inn, so he decided to take a seat and watch the sun set in the distance. As it grew darker and darker, he began to notice an unnatural glow off toward the north where Garren's Port was.

He stood on top of the bench to get a better view, and that's when he saw it. The small port town was ablaze. Black, oily smoke rose from the town as it burned to the ground. And not far off in the distance was the unmistakable shining armor of Imperial soldiers. He burst through the door and shouted, "EMAN! EMAN!" As he darted up the stairs he heard some of the patrons whispering something about someone named Swift Blade.

Elliot burst through every door in the inn part of the tavern until he found the one which Eman was using. Or had used anyway. He was lacing up his shirt, and the wench was putting her blouse back on when he barged in. The girl squawked and covered herself in surprise as Elliot burst in. "Eman! Imperial soldiers!" was all Elliot could manage out while panting for breath.

"Go! Run!" Eman ordered as he flew past Elliot and down the stairs just as the sound of splintering wood could be heard. This time Elliot didn't listen to him, and instead followed him downstairs. Imperial soldiers had broken into the tavern, and were turning the place upside down, and Eman was right in the middle of the fray. His shirt was opened now, and Elliot could see a tight fitting, leather vest underneath the unassuming shirt. Several shining blades lined both sides of the vest, and two daggers, the perfect size of Eman's forearms, were now in his hands. He moved with such grace that it seemed more like the clunky soldiers were fighting a roaring river, rather than another living being. The blades flew from his hands on several occasions, and were returned by chains that were wrapped around his forearms and attached to their hilts.

One by one, the dogs were either disarmed, or killed by Eman's blades. But wave after wave of soldiers poured into the small tavern, and Eman was quickly growing tired. He thought he could take out a few of them then run for it, but they surrounded him too quickly for him to break for an exit. He was panting for breath, and blood dripped from a few cuts he had suffered from the soldiers' swords. Eman couldn't keep track of every enemy that surrounded him, and one of the soldiers took advantage of this. Just as he was about to strike a killing blow, Elliot emerged from the crowd and stood in between the blade and Eman.

"NO! STOP!" he screamed at the top of his lungs. He screwed his eyes shut and held out his hands to try to stop the falling blade. A power surged throughout the inn. Elliot's pure, white fur suddenly changed to a pitch black, and bright, glowing rings and symbols appeared through his fur. A high pitched screech deafened everybody left in the inn. When Elliot opened his eyes, all of the dogs in between him and the front door were encased in a giant block of ice. His body had returned to normal, and he had no recollection of what he had done. But Eman saw it all. And now, much more than before, the little boy had turned from a nuisance to a curiosity.

Eman grabbed Elliot's arm and dragged him away from the ice. He picked him up in his arms and leapt out one of the broken windows with ease. "How did you do that!?" he asked, almost stupefied.

"Do what?" Elliot answered. He had no idea the power that he had just unleashed, and it was all the boy had in him. He didn't have the strength left to even walk, much less run away from the now burning inn. But Eman didn't mind carrying him. He was small and lightweight, and wasn't much of a burden, even for the fox.

The two made their way towards the dark forest. The moon was high in the sky, and bright enough now to light their path. "I know someone who would love to meet you," Eman said after they stopped to rest against a large tree. He absentmindedly traced the dagger symbol on his belt buckle.