Raven The Fire Blood Amulet

Anyone looking at the small, thin creature standing in the center of the grand foyer would think she was dying. Her features were pale and expressionless, with dark sunken eyes. Her arms and legs were only bone matching the rest of a frail meatless body, with long lifeless unkempt black hair hanging tangled down her back. The rags she wore barely covered the scarred abused skin, her legs and feet naked with thick clumps of dirt from the harsh traveling through the mud lands. Raven stands silently, her head bowed as she stares at her hands clasped together in front of her. She desperately wants to lift her head to admire the old house. It was centuries old and it was rare to see one restored to such a pristine state, salvaged from the ravages of nature, there were just a few small patches of green overgrowth remaining which had once consumed the whole house. The structure was a remembrance of a world long forgotten by a society now in disarray and governed by only magic and iron. She has admired the fading waxy pictures of houses like this in the worn, dusty books she pages through on the rare occasions her master leaves her alone in his library on his estate. Raven gives a small moan, she has been left standing here for almost an hour, her legs and back were stiff and aching, but she dares not shift one muscle to move. Disobeying will only lead to pain, a lot of pain, and she will do anything to avoid her master's wrath. Jean-Paul Ducreux's face was twisting in anger as he stared at the woman in front of him, his less than ordinary features marred by ugly red blotches. Janelle Saint has no tolerance for liars and Jean-Paul Ducreux was most definitely a liar, a very bad one and her patience was now at its limit. "I will not be insulted by the likes of you" he spits, his hand shaking on top of the ornate silver walking stick he was holding, his grip tightening on the diamond studded knob. Jean-Paul was an inferior magician, a fool dabbling in the arcane arts. Janelle has been speculating on the source of his power and his obvious grip on the stick only confirms her suspicion, and she hopes he was not stupid enough to use his magic on her. "Monsieur Ducreux, I would advise you to choose your words carefully," Janelle warns calmly as she rises from her chair behind the large wooden desk dwarfing the small study they were in. Janelle Saint was a force of a woman and most men are in awe of her. Not only because she was a beautiful woman with striking long golden hair hugging her like a second skin with piercing cold blue eyes, but she was extremely astute and a werewolf queen. Queen of the White Oaks Wolfwalkers Tribe. Jean-Paul's empty hand surrounds his throat, rubbing the dry skin self-consciously almost as though he was imagining it being ripped apart by a wolf's fangs. Wolfwalker's only shift into their beasts when they are threatened or when necessary and Jean-Paul was not ignorant at the savageness the creatures have. "We have a deal" he sneers. "Had a deal, Monsieur Ducreux, you lied." Janelle was getting bored, and she moves around the desk to stand in front of it. The red gown she was wearing bellowing around her as she walks, the singular long side split showing off a long toned slender leg. She was holding the amulet Jean-Paul had given her earlier in her hand. Jean-Paul swallows nervously he did not lie he just had not divulged the complete truth, but much to his regret Janelle was already aware of everything. Janelle's eyes narrow as she looks at Jean-Paul, when she had invited him to White Oaks it had been on suspicion only. The day she had spotted him in Bridgewater with his mistress wearing the amulet, she never thought her assumptions would be correct. She grips the amulet tighter. He had lied about how he had acquired the amulet, and after her spies had discovered the truth she had invited him to White Oaks under the illusion of an offer to purchase the amulet. And after being confronted with his lies, he has admitted more than he intended. Jean-Paul relents in defeat, his grip easing on the knob and his shoulders sagging, his face paling as the blood drains along with his anger. "All right, the amulet is yours and you can have the girl, she is anyway useless. I don't understand why you want her, but she is yours." Jean-Paul bows his head and with a quick turn on his feet he flees from the room. He would rather leave alive then dead. Janelle sighs, stupid little man, the nerve thinking he was going to receive gold from her for something which was not his to sell. She stares at the amulet in her hand. The large oval red opal was encased with small cut emeralds on a thin golden chain. A beautiful and unique piece, red opals are rare and so are the creatures that can be bound to them. She doubts Monsieur Ducreux ever realized what he had had in his possession. Janelle looks up when a rugged and muscled golden brown man quietly enters the room. "Monsieur Ducreux is leaving, Junaid. Make sure he understands he is never welcome here again" Janelle orders, and the man nods retreating from the room. Jean-Paul hastily makes his way down the sprawling staircase and towards the girl still standing in the spot where he had left her. Raven squeezes her eyes shut as she hears the familiar footsteps of her master coming towards her, the erratic tapping of his walking stick on the creaking wooden floor filling her ears. Raven stops breathing as Jean-Paul comes to a stop next to her. For several long moments Raven listens to nothing but silence and the harsh breathing of her master. "I release you" he whispers suddenly with a soft tap on the floor with his stick. Raven gasps at the sensation of the invisible shackles falling from her wrists and ankles. Her knees buckle and she falls to the floor, the wood scraping her skin. Raven opens her eyes, the shock evident in the dark pools as the enormous weight of a lifetime of bondage disappears. Jean-Paul lets out a shaky breath before continuing his hasty retreat out of the house. Janelle stands at the top of the staircase, still clutching the amulet in one hand. The frown between her high blonde eyebrows deepening as she looks at the crumpled form of the girl on the floor. How did this child survive nineteen years in bondage to Jean-Paul? She barely looks like she can be more than ten years old. She doubts Jean-Paul's account of how he had found Raven and the amulet was completely truthful, except for the part about a note he had found with Raven and the amulet. 'Fly my little Raven, may your path be blessed with the light.' Janelle grimaces, the way he had recited the note in a nonchalant manner makes her sick to her stomach, all this child has understood is darkness. She slowly descends the stairs, her feet gliding to make no sound. Janelle's frown turns to a horrified scowl when she notices the scars on the pale exposed skin of the shivering child. Janelle kneels down and gently lifts Raven's bowing head, her eyes locking with the frightened dark orbs and her rage grows. "Raven, you are safe now" Janelle whispers. Junaid? She calls out with her mind. Yes, mistress? Kill him.