The Flying Fool

Francesca

'The Horrikh's found murdered in their mansion.

The small landholders based around the Valencian area held land on one of the isles, which belongs to the Schumer family. The Schumer family expressed their condolences at the gruesome murder of their vassals and vowed not to rest until justice is achieved.

The daughter's, Francesca, aged 7, body was not found among the dead and is currently presumed to be missing. No ransom demands have been submitted yet, according to our sources.

Loyal readers should not fear, for both the council and the inquisitors shall find the guilty party and punish them accordingly. Glory to our council!'

An article written, about the murder of the Horrikh's by Mark Bluthren for the loyalist paper

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The rustle of the tents. Clamoring of men, clinging of metal. When deprived of your vision, you come to appreciate all the noises, no matter how small or insignificant they may be.

Francesca was sitting on top of a small hill, she didn't know what her surroundings looked like but judging by the sounds of insects and birds they were surrounded by a forest. Further from the hill the main camp was located. Francesca found it silly to be located higher than the rest of her companions, as she was blind and couldn't see anything anyway, but she couldn't help it, not yet at least. No matter how much she urged everyone to treat her equally, the divide between noble and commoner was still a fresh wound. She heard footsteps coming from the direction of the main camp, coming closer and closer to her. Francesca was born blind, thus she had ample time to learn how to distinguish each person not only by their voice but by their walk, and now she recognized it was Dennis approaching her

"My la...Francesca." He, like most, still had trouble using her first name instead of her noble title. If she couldn't change that how could she even begin to mend the gap between noble and commoner? "Any news of Angela? Me and Rock have been on watch all night, but haven't heard anything."

Francesca felt sorry for the three boys. Angela was, not only their sister but, their mother figure after the passing of their father. When Francesca and Gob found the family it was only them living there, looking after each other. Losing her now would destroy all three of them.

"Sadly I've no news. But do not give up hope, I'm sure she is safe, along with everyone else we are missing." Sadly the impromptu escape was chaotic and many rebels were still unaccounted for, presumed either lost or dead. Francesca could only hope they were safe and alive.

Francesca could not help but feel like it was her fault. If she didn't decide to stay on that isle for so long they would've managed to escape safely. Gob and the rest were right, she should've ordered the retreat, but she felt so close to her true objective.

Last night, as if the gods decided to toy with her, she had a vision of the artifact. Not only how it looked like but also where it was located. It was on their previous isle, she was close but now it was too late, with too many lives lost.

~We can still go, true many lost their lives but many more will die if we don't get that artifact.~

A voice rang in her head. So similar to hers yet different, more regal.

The voice of a god, just by hearing it Francesca could imagine centuries of wisdom. Asmodea, one of the 5, has been in her head ever since Gob murdered her parents, all those years ago. Giving advice but leaving the final decision to Francesca.

~I can't leave them right now, not when they're so lost and split. We must wait. ~ Asmodea couldn't freely read Francesca's mind. Francesca had to subconsciously allow it, still lapses happened and Asmodea sometimes managed to glean thoughts that Francesca wanted to keep hidden. Though this happened much less now, than it did before.