A/N: Yay! I actually got around to typing (much less uploading) a second chapter! /fsh
Anyways, this is a bit longer than my last chapter, but the third one is probably gonna go back to being shorter. Um, again, I'd love any reviews you guy have for me. 3

Chapter 2: The Savior…?

The inn may not have been as ‘clean’ as the ones in Prontera, but they did have running water. Ninya stepped out of the shower, wrapping a worn towel around her chest, her dark blue hair stuck to her back, dripping with water. The priestess tucked the towel inside itself and squeezed the water from her hair and headed back into the (only) other room.

She hadn’t packed another set of robes—or underwear, even. It wasn’t like she had planned to say over-night… or planned to have that little ‘encounter’ in the alley. Ninya grimaced and twisted her hair in her hands again sending a few more drops of water to the floor. The shower had helped a bit, but she still wasn’t eager to think about what had happened. She sighed, collapsing into her pillow, her eyes staring up and the dark ceiling. She wouldn’t tell the Church about what had happened. It wasn’t like she didn’t trust them, or even that she thought that it was better kept as a secret, she just… didn’t want them to worry. After all, she was fine.

Ninya turned her attention to outside of the dirty window across the room. The world was tinted the outside world a dull grey-brown but she could see the city none the less. She could see the sky, too. The stars were much more visible out here than in Prontera. Ninya supposed that it was to be expected, though. After all, Morroc wasn’t anywhere near the size (or population of) Prontera….
-

She groaned slightly, the back of her hand resting on top of her forehead. Ninya opened one eye and looked around. The light was flooding in through the dirty window… Ah, she must have fallen asleep sometime last ni—Wait a minute. Light?! How long had she been asleep?

Ninya sat bolt-up right in her bed, her towel coming lose and falling down onto her lap. Flustered, Ninya quickly gathered the bath towel and hopped up. Pulling on her clothes and undergarments she quickly ran her fingers though her hair, pulled on her cloak and shoes, grabbed the key from the bed-side table and dashed out of the room.

So much for getting back to Prontera early.

The priestess skidded around the hall, jumping the last five stairs on her way down and came to an abrupt halt in front of the desk.

“Oh, hello, dear.” The woman smiled, “It’s almost eleven. I was wondering when you were going to wake up.”

Ninya nodded, still catching her breath, “Yes—I know, I’m sorry. I overslept…”

“No need to apologize. Did you enjoy your stay?”

“I did, thanks.” Ninya smiled, “Um, hang on…” She placed the key on the counter and began rummaging though her cloak, “How much for the room?”

“5000 zeny, please.”

Ninya nodded and pulled out the designated amount, “Thank you very much for the room,” She bowed slightly, “I have to go now. Thank you!”

The innkeeper nodded, smiling, “Any time. Please travel safely!”

-

Ninya walked with a quickened step, dodging in between the crowds along the streets. She was careful to stay on the main path this time, day time or not. She only diverged from the path when she approached the pub, doing her best to head to the cellar door without being noticed.

Now, aside from the fact that she was annoyed at herself for oversleeping and delaying her own return to the Church, she was also worried about how that assassin cross would deal with her timing. True, they hadn’t exactly set a designated hour for her to pick up the letter, but something told her that his preference was early—before the people started coming out and she wasn’t exactly keen to find out what assassins did if time didn’t go their way.

Ninya bent down next to the cellar door and knocked three times, hoping that he would be recognized. A minute or two passed and Ninya was starting to wonder if she should come back at another time, maybe when there were less people around (though that wasn’t exactly something she was eager to do) when a cold voice came though.

“You’re the priest girl, right? Well, come on.” An unseen hand pushed another key though a crack in the door doors, “No one followed you, right?”

She fumbled, grabbing the key and putting it in the lock again, opening the cellar door. Seriously, there had to be a more convenient way of getting in and out of this place. Opening the doors she climbed down the stairs, the door getting shut behind her, causing Ninya to jump and turn around.

There was a lamp on a near by desk, enough light to light up the room without her Ruwach, even if it was only dim. Ninya blinked a few times, trying to help her eyes adjust to the new dimness around her as her eyes landed on a figure leaning against the wall. It wasn’t the same assassin cross as last night— the major difference? This one was a female.

“You’re that priest from last night? Ninya, right?” The woman’s voice was rough and cold, but it had a strange, almost soothing tone to it all the same. She stepped forward, flicking her light purple hair out of hazel eyes, “Yeah, Seth told me about you.”

“Seth?” Ninya repeated, “You mean the assassin cross that was here last night?”

“Yeah, that’s him. Didn’t tell you his name, huh?”

Ninya shook her head.

“Oh well. That’s typical. I’m Cherise. Your letter is over there.” Cherise nodded towards the desk, “Our Guild Leader’s response is on the back of your letter, okay?”

“Cherise—“

The priestess looked up to see another girl standing in a doorway to which she assumed lead to the pub, “Raiken-sama wants to see you—Oh!” The girl stepped forward cautiously, and Ninya could see her hands go instinctively to the katars at her waist.

“Take it easy, Gale.” Cherise turned to the girl in purple, the regular assassin, “She’s from the church, here on that alliance thing that’s been going on.”

“Oh, right.” The girl called Gale nodded, relaxing a bit, “Okay, well just so you know, Raiken wants to talk to you.”

“Will do.” Cherise nodded, “Thanks.”

She nodded, “Sure thing.”

The cross turned back to Ninya, “Right. Sorry bout that. So like I was saying, your letter’s on the table there. Oh, and… If you need to come and visit us again try our main headquarters. It’s just southeast of here. It’s a bit of a walk, maybe about a day, but you have Warp Portals, right? Shouldn’t be too hard. Just tell ‘em I told you about the place, ‘kay? They’ll let you in. And if not I’ll deal with ‘em myself.” She grinned, winking. “Thanks for stopping by, Ninya.”

The priestess nodded hesitantly and smiled tentatively “Uh—yeah, n-no problem.” She walked towards the desk, grabbing the letter. Rummaging though her pockets she pulled out a blue gemstone and threw it into the air. She shouted a quick “Warp Portal !!” causing a blue and white vortex to appear where the gem had been not seconds before. Stepping forward, Ninya paused and turned around giving the female cross a quick “Thanks!” before she disappeared.

---

“Oh, Ninya!”

The priestess stepped out of her portal, her shoe connecting with the cobblestone of Prontera’s path in front of the Church. She looked up to see a woman in nun’s clothing running towards her. “Hello, Mother Trace.”

“You had us worried.” The woman came to a stop in front of the girl, “I didn’t know you were going to stay over night.”

“Me neither, honestly.” Ninya smiled sheepishly, “But the Assassin Guild wanted me to deliver their note back to the Sanctuary so they recommended that I stay at the Morroc Inn. I’m sorry to have worried you, Mother.”

“No, no. It’s fine, Ninya. I’m just glad you’re okay.” The nun smiled, “I take it your mission was a success, then?”

“Yes!” Ninya smiled, holding out the note, “Their reply is written on the back of our message, apparently. I haven’t read it.”

“Ah, okay.” Mother Trace smiled, taking the letter from Ninya, “Thank you so much for your work, Ninya.”

The girl nodded, smiling, “It was no trouble.”

Mother Trace wasn’t listening, however, looking Ninya over. “Oh, your robes got dirty… I’m sorry. Why don’t you take a bath upstairs? I can wash your clothes and get you a new set. I think we have a few extras in your size. How about it, dear?”

Ninya looked down at herself. Mother Trace was right; her clothes had gathered a good amount of dust, dirt, and sand from her time in Morroc... She nodded, smiling. “Alright, I’d like that.”

-

The upstairs up the Church was accessible to the Clergy alone. High Priests, Priests, and Acolytes alike could find sanctuary in these rooms at all time. From time to time the Church would allow travelers to room when the inns were full or if they seemed in-need, but it was truly a place for those of Faith alone. The halls carried the same smell as downstairs; old wood mixed with the fragrance of always-burning candles and freshly cut flowers. The walls were a beautifully carved stained maple, elaborate designs throughout the halls. Marble statues of holy figures lined the halls, guarding her as she passed, her shoes sinking into the burgundy carpet. Stained glass windows created rainbows of patterns on the walls and floors, a sight that Ninya knew so well.

She stopped in front of a modest door and knocked twice, opening the door. Inside was a white marble bathroom the only real source of color being a small stained glass window depicting irises above an empty bathtub. Ninya smiled to herself and walked forward to turn on the water, letting the water rise steadily as she undressed, the light of a few candles sending flickers across the folding of her dress.

She sank into the water, letting the warmth spread over her, relaxing. True, she had just bathed this morning, but there was something special about here. It was much more calming, soothing; it felt like it wasn’t just her body that was cleansed.

Ninya dipped her head under the water, slicking her hair back with her hands as she resurfaced. A few minutes went by and Ninya was contemplating getting out soon when a quiet knock sounded on the bathroom door.

“Hello? Miss Ninya?”

“Yes?” Ninya looked up, a girl’s muffled voice sounding from the other side.

The door eased open and a young acolyte peeked though, one hand over her eyes, the other holding something at her side. “Father Bamph would like to speak with you when you’re done. Also,” She felt her way inside “Mother Trace sent me to give you these.” She held out a fresh pair of priestess robes and a towel, “They said to take your tim—“ The girl’s words were cut off as she tripped over herself the garments and towel sent into the air, landing in a pile a few feet away.

“Are you okay?” Ninya had risen out of the water, grabbed the towel, and gone over to the girl, helping her to sit up.

“Y-yes.” The acolyte looked up, blushing, “I’m fine.”

Ninya smiled, “You should really watch where you’re going.”

The girl blushed deeper, her hands going up unconsciously to play with her lilac hair. “Right…”

-

“You wanted to see me, Father?” Ninya stepped inside the Observance Room, shutting the door behind her.

“Ah, yes. Have a seat, Ninya.” Bamph folded his hands in front of him, looking at the young priestess, “I just wanted to have a quick follow-up on your mission.”

Ninya nodded, sitting. “There’s not much to tell, Father. I delivered the message and was told that if there was any other correspondence between the Church and the Assassin Guild to send the message directly to their main headquarters—just southeast of where you originally sent me.”

Bamph raised an eyebrow, “Main, huh? I’m surprised. I didn’t think the Assassin Guild would be so trusting as to reveal their location after only one meeting.”

“Neither did I, Father.”

“All right.” The priest nodded, “We’ll be sending more letters back and forth in the future, no doubt, and I’m sure the Assassin guild wants their location known to as few people as possible. We’ll continue to send you, okay, Ninya? And tell no one else of the Assassins’ whereabouts. I don’t want this alliance jeopardized in any way.”

Ninya nodded, rising, “Yes, Father.”

“Oh, and, Ninya,”

She looked up, tilting her head.

“Thanks for delivering our letter.”

---

It had been two weeks since then, and still no word from either the Church or the Assassin Guild. Ninya was starting to wonder if something had gone wrong. At first she thought she didn’t care. Then, she thought that things were probably taking a while to set up. Now, though, she was starting to believe that something had fallen through. Of course, it was probably her just being her typical worry-wart self, but still she couldn’t help it. It had taken all her self-control to simply not barge back into the Sanctuary after the first week and a half and demand that Father Bamph give her an update on what was going on. But, she had contained herself so far and she would continue to do so until she was called for once again by the Church.

In the mean time, the young priestess kept herself occupied with the typical community services carried out by many of the clerics in Prontera. Her days’ duties would change from ‘in-house’ work such as tending to the alter and housekeeping in the church to outside duties, field work; healing the wounded, helping the poor, with the occasional odd job thrown in from time to time. It was on such a job that Ninya found herself dear the docks of Alberta.

The evening air was crisp, cool. There was but a few wisps of clouds in the sky, a dazzling bright half-moon, and stars a few bright stars scattered across the sky despite the city lights. It was a beautiful experience, really, improved only by the scent of the sea floating through the town. She had been in Alberta since morning, her day starting with a simple soup kitchen shift. Somehow, though, the girl had managed to volunteer herself to the Merchant Guild as a temporary delivery girl—despite the fact that she had no idea where her recipient was.

Ninya looked around, frustrated. She had been wandering the city for nearly twenty minutes now, and she still had no idea where she was supposed to be headed—heck, she couldn’t even find the Kafra or Guide to help her out. With an annoyed sigh the priestess set the small crate she was carrying on the ground near a tall steel structure. She looked around for a minute, massaging her arms. In hindsight, maybe volunteering as a delivery girl in a city where she had nearly no bearings wasn’t such a good idea…

Ninya bent down and picked the crate back up. From what she understood there were general adventurers’ supplies in here: potions, wings, magnifiers, and the like that was needed at the Albertan Tool Shop. Too bad she had no idea where that was… Well, Ninya sighed, she had to have covered at least a third of the city… She’d find it eventually.

The girl began to walk again, keeping track of which direction she had come from, trying to recognize any familiar (or unfamiliar) landmarks like… well, like that! Ninya squinted into her darkening surroundings. As she walked the form of a docked sailing ship came into view, along with a young blonde man standing on its deck.

“’Scuse me!” Ninya’s walk turned into a light jog, the contents of the crate clattering with every step, “Do you know where the Tool Shop is?”

The man looked up, his white sailor uniform clearly visible in the night. “Aye, Miss. It be just west of here. Jus’ keep walkin’ ‘n you’ll see the sign.” He eyed the package she was carrying along with her priestess robes. “You’re from the Church, aren’t ya, Miss? What’re you doin’ out this late?”

“I’m helping the Merchant Guild.” She smiled, “But I got lost. I’m just on a quick delivery then I’ll be heading back home.”

The man nodded, “Be careful, okay, Miss?”

“I will, thank you!” Ninya nodded back, unable to wave while holding her delivery, before heading off in the direction the man had indicated.

She shivered slightly. Not only was it late autumn, but the air from the sea had caused the already cool temperature drop even more. Even with Priest robes being one of the warmer (and slightly more conservative) uniforms that many of the jobs in Migard had to offer, it was still pretty chilly. Her knees buckled inward as a response to a breeze of wind that had managed to find its way through the docks, chasing itself under her skirts. Ninya frowned in exasperation as goosebumps formed beneath her stockings. She shook her leg, trying to straighten out her dress without dropping the crate she was holding. It might have worked if it weren’t for the sudden force on her arm that pulled her backwards.

Ninya opened her mouth to scream, if only from surprise, but only managed a small squeak before a gloved hand covered her mouth. The crate went forward as she went back, neither of them landing softly. It half bounced, half skidded after flying a few feet in the air, a nice little chorus of clinks and cracks following the initial impact. Ninya landed on her rear, sending a hard shock up her spine and leaving her with a rather sore bottom. The priestess had been pulled back several feet, into an aisle created by a stack of shipping crates on one side and a concrete wall on the other. She looked up, emerald eyes searching for the source of her motion anomaly. She didn’t find one—she found three.

They came in the forms of two blacksmiths and one rouge; all male, all pretty gruff-looking, and all watching her with expressions that resembled one that she had seen just weeks before. The difference, though? Their eyes were focused, driven. They knew what they were doing. And she knew, too.

The rouge, seemingly the leader of the group, stepped forward as one of the blacksmiths held her arms behind her back and kept her mouth covered. The second blacksmith went forward to inspect the crate and see if it still contained anything of value.

The rouge kneeled down in front of her, a lusty look in his eyes, a cruel smirk on his lips. Black hair was pulled back into a loose, short pony tail. His eyes, a grey brown, were scanning her struggling form, stopping on some of the more ‘appealing’ parts of her body.

Ninya wiggled even more. She could feel her entire body grow hot with embarrassment as the rouge looked her over. Her legs were tucked under here, her knees twisted to the side at a very uncomfortable angle. The combination of her and her captor’s weight making it impossible for her to free her legs, impossible for her to access her only other means of defense. Not that attempting to kick a rouge, or even a smith, was a very good idea given the difference in their physical build… but hey, it would have probably given her at least a few seconds for a head start…

The rouge licked his lips, his tongue running over one of his many piercings. This man, as well as the others, was perfectly sober. They were sober and they were still holding her like— well, like this! They knew what they were doing, and somehow, that frightened her even more.

“There’s not much left in the crate… just a few wings. All the pots broke.” The other blacksmith came back over, brushing some red hair from his eyes, “How about we… take a different prize?”

The girl’s eyes darted to the open crate that the man had left in the street. Well, so much for the delivery…

“Is that so?” The rouge drawled, “Maybe we shouldn’t have been so sudden, huh? Oh well. This girl is enough…” He eyed her, a hand going forward, caressing her tearful face.

Odin! Was she just a magnet for trouble?! She shook her head as best she could in the smith’s grip, trying to break the rouge’s contact. How could this be happening to her… again?! And this time it was three against one… Yeah, this definitely not headed in a good direction…

Mental note: Once the sun sets Lock. Yourself. Indoors.

Ninya strained at her captor’s grip, twisting her arms, trying to free herself. But she might as well have tried to kill the Evil Snake Lord with a piece of grass. The smith’s grip was excruciatingly strong; something, she supposed, that must have come from many years of forging weapons.

The rouge took a dagger from his side and brought it up the priestess’s face, the gleaming metal reflecting her features. Ninya instinctively tried to back up away from the blade, forgetting that the blacksmith was behind her, still holding her fast.

“Don’t worry, love.” The rouge whispered in a fake soothing voice, “Stay still and won’t hurt you… much.”

Ninya’s eyes widened, following the blade as it came closer, causing her to go nearly cross-eyed before she shut her eyes in fear, her hear pounding. She could feel the flat side of the knife against her cheek, followed by a quick, sharp pain and warm liquid dripping down the side of her face. Her breathing was erratic. She was shaking. Her mind was reciting every prayer that she had ever been taught, desperately trying to find something to cling on to. It wasn’t working.

Her neck and chest were cold. She opened one eye to see that the rouge had begun to cut the top of her dress in half, leaving nothing but a bra to separate that part of herself from these strangers. The rouge must have—wait a minute. The rouge.

Ninya’s head shot up, both eyes open, looking around. Where had he gone? She could still feel the blacksmith behind her, but he seemed much more tense, his grip even more painful than before, bruising.

“Don’t. Move.” He growled from behind her.

Ninya whimpered an affirmative, bewilderment now mixed in with fearful eyes. What had just happened? Why was he so nervous? Where had the rouge and the other blacksmith gone? Not that she was complaining, of course…

And then, she saw it. Three blurs back out in the open streets of Alberta, the sound of metal on metal, and small sparks flying as weapons met. She stared. Someone was fighting the rouge and smith, one on two…

She wanted to cry out. She wanted to tell them to stop, to run. One versus two was bad enough, but it could turn into one versus three at any moment… Stranger or not, she was worried about him and—hold on. It looked like who ever had come to her rescue was succeeding. She watched as the fight between the silhouettes continued, one pushing the other two back, blocking attacks with his knife, and landing some of his own through punches and kicks.

The blacksmith was also watching his friends’ impending defeat as his grip loosened from distraction, allowing Ninya to free her mouth from his grip. She turned and bit his finger. Hard.

The man howled and let go of the girl entirely. Fingerless gloves only did so much for protection. Ninya turned quickly, landing a well-aimed kick to the smith’s nether regions. Fighting wasn’t her specialty, but even she could do something on occasion. He dropped to his knees, pain written all over his face, his eyes shut in agony. Ninya turned back to watch the fight, wiping the man’s blood away from her mouth. She crept forward, peeking around the crates, scanning the scene for any trace of movement. Where had they gone?

“Look out!” A sharp voice sounded from above, “Behind you!”

The priestess turned just in time to see the blacksmith on his feet again, coming at her, his face twisted in rage and pain.

Ninya flinched, her arms instinctively going up to protect herself from the smith’s blow.

A few second passed. No blow. Ninya opened one eye, looking around. She shrieked and jumped back a few feet, an unconscious rogue lying on top of his dazed blacksmith friend.

Ninya looked up again to see the source of the warning. He jumped down, landing with a light ‘thump’ on the ground, dumping the now third unconscious body (the other blacksmith had passed out just a few seconds ago) on top of the others. The man straightened up, smirking.

“You okay?”

“Y-yeah…” Ninya was still staring down at the three men piled at her feet, shock clearly evident in her voice and expression, “Th-thank you, uh…” She looked up, clearly hoping to learn the name of her glorious Knight in Shining Armor.

Keep hoping.

The man who had rescued her did not introduce himself. In fact, it was highly doubtful that he had heard her thanks at all. Ninya looked at him, wondering why he hadn’t answered her. He was looking at something, distracted by it. She followed his gaze… right back to the rip in her dress.

She felt her face redden immediately, her hand quickly going to hold the fabric together, as well as her composure. Currently, slapping the man clear across the face, rescuer or not, seemed like quite an appealing action.

“Oh, right.” The man looked up, snapped out of his ‘trance’. Grinning slyly, he was obviously not unnerved by the fact that he had just been caught red-handed at staring that the girl’s chest. “Name’s Vaider.”

She nodded, still a deep pink. Her hand still holding her dress together, Ninya gave a small curtsey, “Thank you very much for saving me, Mr. Vaid—“

She froze, staring at the man, seeing him now really for the first time. He was a little less then a foot taller than her, standing at about six feet. He had a muscular build, a kind of rugged look, even with a clean-shaven face. She had just noticed that he was dressed in a Stalker’s uniform, but ultimately, that wasn’t what was bothering her. This man had bluish, spiked hair—blue hair and golden-brown eyes.