The Stolen Relic

Stefan   Stefan knew that most people were intimidated by him. Before coming to this town, he thought it had to do with his royal position. But having arrived unannounced and underdressed, he quickly learned that there was more to it among many other lessons.  Maybe it was because he was taller than most men. Or it was his eyes. Stefan’s mom had always beamed about the warmth and kindness his almond amber eyes reflected. But when he looked at his loyal men, he knew they saw the fierce gleam of the horrors that he had defeated in war and on quests.  While he always combed his hair in the morning, he allowed fate to be his stylist the rest of the day. He didn’t care, and he didn’t have the time. His honey skin tone was common where he came from,

Clarissa   Clarissa’s mother normally kept their home spotless and excellently cared for. But it wasn’t right now. Smashed furniture, broken wood, and trash blocked the front door. A couple of flickering candles lit the main stairway. But the house was bizarrely dark. Most of the usually lit candles were knocked over. Clarissa carefully stepped over the debris as she entered the house behind Stefan. She gasped as her heart sped up in her chest. Her wide eyes took in the wanton destruction. Stefan was stealthily headed up the stairs. She followed him tentatively, unsure if she wanted to see what was there. What had happened here? Mom and Dad had been here during this? A sinking feeling pressed its way into he

Clarissa   She blinked and looked around her mother’s bedroom. How did she end up here? What was going on? Her memory was in fragments. She remembered the blood and imminent danger.  She sat on the edge of the bed before pushing herself to her feet. They were bare, which did not make any sense. She saw that she was wearing her favorite cotton nightgown when she looked down. It didn’t seem real. In the hall, she stumbled forward as a flashback of blood on the wall blinded her. She reached for that same wall, but there was no blood. Was it just a dream?  She stepped into her room, and a flood of memories caused her to stagger to her knees. But there was no evidence of the horror she remembered. Maybe it was just a dream. Everyone was alright.

  Clarissa   When Clarissa woke in the morning, she felt much stronger than she had the day before. She could not rescue her mother if she were lying in bed, right? She stood up and looked out the window. The sun was starting to wink at her from beyond the mountains. She got up and went to the bathroom, where she cleaned up and readied for the day. She dressed in a simple brown cotton dress- her best traveling attire. As soon as she left the bathroom, she headed to the front door.  She was determined to get her mom back and she would have to start in town. She could find some supplies and maybe a party to travel with there. Perhaps she could arrange a hunting party to find the rogue werecats and bring them to justice. As her hand landed

Arcadia whisked her away as soon as they got to town. Clarissa barely caught a glimpse of the guys headed in different directions as she was swept into a tailor shop. Arcadia took a look around the room.  “Since you will be on the road,” She didn’t finish the sentence as she ran her fingers over the different cloth. A female shopkeeper came up to them. Clarissa knew her as Mrs. Thompson. She was a kind older lady who did most of the stitches on the clothes in her shop. Yet, the shop remained in her husband’s name, which didn’t bother her.  She worked to provide for her family. She was short and skinny, with brown curly hair tied in a bun behind her face.   Her eyes skimmed over Clarissa momentarily. But she had served Arcadia before and had been p