�Raphael��

�Good mornin� to ya, darlin���

Calia smiled back and nodded gently, looking away from his intense gaze almost immediately. His was so hauntingly loving, that the stare almost frightened her. Raphael narrowed his eyes then lifted the arm that was not supporting his head and forced it beneath her shoulders, pulling her close and hugging her to him. She lifted her eyes around to his, and smiled again, but it was clear to Raphael that the expression was forced.

�Wha�s tha matter, darlin�?�

�Nothing, Raphael� it�s just� last night and� nothing.�

His reply came in the form of a small laugh, to which Calia blinked and wrinkled her nose up, subconsciously pulling away from him. Why did that amuse him? He reached over gently and casually, and tugged her back to him, leaning close to her, kissing the side of her cheek and murmuring against the skin as he drew his lips towards her ear.

�Tell me, Calia� please, sweet�eart��

He felt her slowly moving her ear away from his lips, her body feeling certainly more tense than he was familiar with. He knew something troubled her as she shifted against him, and he brought his free arm off the pillow, stroking his fingers through her hair in a hopeful attempt to coax the answer from her lips.

�Every time�I always� she always takes over, Raphael� I remember nothing� I don�t want it, I just wish��

�Shush��

Calia paused as he murmured for her silence and she stared at him now, meeting his dark brown eyes as a smile crawled up his face for the second time that morning. He watched her for just a moment, understanding her stammered words as though she had spoken perfectly clear. He knew her better than she realized.

�This is for you then, darlin�� don�t let �er take it from ya, eh?�

And Raphael�s lips captured hers as they had the night before, and many nights before that, his tongue flicking out and stroking gently along hers. Calia tensed up, gasping out against his mouth and bringing her hands to his chest. The kiss, like him, they were hers; he had said so. Yet even as Calia acknowledged this she felt the tugging at her mind, the voice claiming the kiss, telling her that Raphael did not belong against her body� emerald became jade, and jade became cerulean� Calia tore her lips from his and leapt from the bed like a wounded animal, tears streaking her face.

�I can�t! I can�t, Raphael! She won�t��

Raph sat up in the bed, rubbing his lips with a surprised and displeased frown upon them. He lowered his head, blowing his hair from his eyes and distractedly examining the bed sheets. Calia wasted no time in throwing her cloak around her naked form, tying it at the waist. She gave Raph one final glance, feeling a sharp twang of guilt at how disappointed he seemed, before hastily making her exit from the bedroom. Raphael lifted his eyes as the door slammed behind her, before falling back so that his head returned to the pillow, his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling above.

-

She hurried through the hallway, towards the tavern exit, her cloak flowing up behind her as she ran. Tears stained her cheeks and blurred her vision, but she ignored it for she had to get away from here now. Calia needed to clear her head; she wanted more than anything to have let Raphael kiss her, but it was impossible. His every loving touch made her lose her own mind more and more; forcing her to give way to the one he had lost, Keilia, the girl within her. She had begun, even, to question herself; did she like Raphael, or was it Keilia making her believe so. And how could she be sure? The bartender gave the beautiful woman a worried look as she staggered over the bottom step and landed roughly on her knees, grazing the skin off the flesh. Biting back a yelp, Calia staggered back to her feet, her tear-stained cheeks flushing. The bartender cried out to her as he suddenly recognized the scurrying form.

�Calia� wait! Calia, don�t�it�s a trap��

But Calia did not hear him, the words of warning falling on deaf ears. The tavern door swung open and she scurried out, sniffling in an attempt to hold back further tears, her long strands of golden hair getting tangled and matted to her tear soaked face. The sun was warm above her, almost at its highest point, casting shadows all around the town. It was from within these shadows that the dark forms stepped, their bodies all cloaked in black to match the darkness from whence they came. Calia stumbled for the second time, stopping herself just steps from the cowled figure that stood before her, a set of rapiers crossed over his chest. The dark assassins that had formed around the helpless girl closed the circle in, and countless gloved hands suddenly grasped her arms and torso. Calia let out a scream and tried to flail free, all thoughts of the incident in the bedroom lost as she called out his name. �Raphael! Help me! Raphael!�

Raphael did not come for her though, and Calia knew her only hope was to free herself. She would not let them take her, not without a fight. Tugging herself out of the gloved hands, Calia spun around and swung at the closest form. The target weaved out of her way, narrowly avoiding the clenched fist. Calia fell through with the swing though, bringing up a leg to strike out at the foe. Two pairs of firm arms grabbed the leg and she fell, hitting the grass painfully. Was there no one in town? No one to help her? Had Raphael not heard the commotion from the room upstairs? Raphael? Calia was to her feet almost as quickly as she had fallen, her teeth gritted tight together. Ignoring the hair in her eyes, she ducked below a knife as it was swung in her direction, and in return delivered an uppercut, her fist colliding with the masked chin. The form fell and Calia spit on it as it did, catching her breath in the second she had.

A blunt club took her by surprise, dazzling the senses from her and she hit the ground again. This time she was not so quick to push herself up as the dark forms of multiple assassins piled upon her. Calia tried to push herself off the ground, to buck and to force them off of her, but to no avail, the weight was too heavy, the force too much. Rough hands grabbed her arms and her shoulders, and fingers wrapped tightly around her flurrying legs. Her chest rose and fell, rose and fell, each breath labored and heavy, as the assassins lifted their pray, dragging her to her feet and holding her there. She made to scream out, call again to Raphael in a vain hope, but a hand covered her trembling lips as she became stilled, silencing her pleas for aid. The large hooded figure stood at the front, having not moved once during the struggles, now nodded to his disciples and as did he, they returned to the shadows, joined now by the defenseless and unmoving form of a blonde-haired captive; the bait.