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[zeyla]

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Hearing the sleep-distant sound of riders thundering down the road that was but a few steps from the house where she rented a room caused the sleeping girl no cause for alarm. Plenty of riders and footmen come down this road on a regular basis, even in this pre-dawn hour. Zeyla murmured something in her sleep and snuggled back into the soft pillows provided by the home's owner. It was a good, restful, and deserved sleep earned after spending many days in the gypsy camps near Minoc, helping cure their flocks of a mysterious illness that did not respond to their homespun medical care.

It was not until she heard the voices of several men booming throughout the house, actually echoing off of the very walls, that she swam up toward consciousness from the depths of sleep. It was alarm that she felt when the tapestry that served as a door to the spartan room she kept was torn from its very dowel and chaos broke loose in the typically quiet home. Grime covered men were shouting orders and responses to one another as Zeyla sat bolt upright and extolled shouts of her own in fear and anger.

Zeyla's responses were short lived, however. A sickening blow was dealt to the back of her head and her foray into the waking world came to an abrupt end. It is probably to Zeyla’s benefit that she was unaware of the rude and appraising comments of her attackers, and most surely for the best that she was not aware of the several crude pinches and fondling that ensued.

The next conscious realization that came to Zeyla was the thudding pain where the blow was landed to her head, along with waves of nausea and vomiting. So great was her pain that she was unable to lift her own head in her sickness, soiling herself and the blanket covering the straw pallet upon which she lay, barely able to move her own head away from the mess in the aftermath. It seemed that she lay there for many hours, miserable, cold, frightened, and, worst of all, having no idea what was happening or why.

When it was her very own father, the person she adored above all others—the very one who gave her the inherent love of animals and their care--came into the room with a frown upon his face, Zeyla began to comprehend the enormity of the horror she was encountering. Harsh words were said, and even worse accusations made against Zeyla. In the nearby room, she could hear her mother’s own interjections of agreement. She lay in the drying mess of the makeshift bed, too shocked, too sickened, to stunned, to even speak in protest. In the end, she understood with perfect clarity that it was her parents who paid to have her returned to the Castle British against her will. Knowing that her parents were not well off, both coming from long lines of British servants, she fought back another wave of sickness when she realized that the kidnappers were most likely paid with the very gold Zeyla sent home on a regular basis with the hope that her parents would someday have a better life of their own.

It was at this moment that Zeyla began to form a rudimentary plan of escape. In her overwhelmed mind, it seemed that the first thing to do would be to cooperate. Cooperation would give her time to plan better, to think, to heal her mind and spirit. However, as the saying goes, even the best laid plans can go to waste. The months dragged on.

Every passing day brought more misery and anger. How dare these people dictate her future? After all, it would be very soon that the law of the land would consider her an adult, an individual. Wasn’t it Zeyla’s intent, when she was torn from the protective arms of the few friends she had made, to someday buy her parents a beautiful home in the country, away from the city life of Britain? Was it not Zeyla who eagerly told her friends in Sanctus how she adored the people who toiled their lives away to assure Zeyla’s proper education? How could these people do this to her!?

The day finally came that Zeyla’s reason faltered and failed. She waited until the very same time of day when she was taken, the hour the Castle slept, and fled on foot. Through the darkness she ran until she found herself at a Moongate. The gate took her to Trinsic, where she claimed her beloved mount Lasombra. Having had her runebooks confiscated, Zeyla made her way to the town of Sanctus. It was the only thing that made sense, despite her fears of bringing down the wrath of whoever is behind all this trouble she found herself in.

With her own youth working against her, Zeyla babbled her troubles to those who would listen. It was not until an old friend, a young woman younger than Zeyla herself, arrived in the town of Sanctus with a hastily scribbled note for Zeyla. Her friend had been at the Castle stables, and overheard several people talking. It appeared that Zeyla had great worth as a chaste young woman, a girl who came with great talents of her own. The word was, that there was a group of ruffians, possibly bounty hunters of some sort, had made a deal to trade Zeyla into slavery under the tutelage of the Blackthorn hangers on. There are those who believe Blackthorn vanquished, and there are those who know better, those who would profit at the cost of a bright young woman’s happiness and well-being without a second thought. Perhaps Blackthorn is away, possibly overcome, but Evil is never truly dead.

In desperation Zeyla's parents went to those who keep the Castle in British's absence, keeping secret their own betrayal. Immediate action was taken. Word was put out that Zeyla was in danger, a child runaway who should be returned to the seemingly loving family who mourned for her return, and a Castle who adored her. Posters were tacked up, flyers distributed. Ironically, the ones sent forth to bring Zeyla home have no idea that they are in a race against time and evil intent. To quote an old phrase, they know not what they do.

As it stands, there are two groups of people who wish for Zeyla’s presence. It is true, that her parents wanted her home and did not approve of her free thinking ways, and gave less approval to her lifestyle. Why, it is just not proper for a young woman to be running amok with people of unknown backgrounds! Zeyla had to be put back on the right path, even at the expense of parental betrayal.

Time will show who comes out ahead. The good or the bad, the light or the dark. And in the end, it is Zeyla’s future that hangs in the balance.