*A/N* Hey everybody. This is my little way of saying goodbye to the tree of apricots that I love.

Just FYI, chapter 17 is on the intense side. Thank you!

When I was with Anna this summer, we stayed up very early playing Apples to Apples. We thought it would be fun to write down the cards everyone got and create a story character off of them. This is the introduction for the story. I don't really know where this is going, it just is.
Anna is Genevieve, and I am Barney... based off of the cards we won. ;)

An Introduction

Once upon a time there were five people – all were from different places, yet they were destined to meet on a fateful day in London.

"He had been passing through this land -about a year ago -and he was found associating with a widespread group of bandits that plague our country -"

Here Tass nearly choked -from laughter, Rynere assumed -but didn't try to protest.

"He was brought to the dungeon, but managed to escape. We later found him in the kitchen, making friends with the cook, and put him back in his cell with extra guards. But no matter what we did, we could never keep him there."

Tass smirked.

"What is going on?" Rynere suddenly snapped. "Why do you want Tass? What did he do to make you angry enough to want to hang him? Why did you want the prince? Why -"

"How did you know they wanted me dead?" Tass looked at her, with a raised eyebrow and cocked smile.

"Sorren told me! What is going on? What -"

"This man -" the king stared daggers at Tass, "-has caused more trouble than anyone is worth -"

Tass said something under his breath and grinned.

"-and will be hanged as soon as we can get him under a noose!"

(Here goes, Erin! You did Faye... I did this. Chapter One is coming, but even though I don't have anymore than that completed, I thought I should post before we hold the website funeral.)

David quickly memorized the cell numbers. “I’ll work that row,” he decided.

  The guard below him looked up. “The bell rings, and you go on duty. Or...” he drew a hand across his throat.

  David nodded, gulping.

   BONG, BONG, BONG, BONG.

   David sat up quietly, grabbed his javelin and paper, and ran to his cell rows.

A gift she has upon her hands 

She shows it every day 

Every second the gift flows through 

Those fingers, when they play 

People stare in amazement 

Her talent really shows 

But she bows her head and blushes 

Confused by all the "woahs..." 

Her heart is full of pleasure 

But a part of it is humble 

She doesn't care much for praise 

Her answer to that is a mumble 

She works from dawn to dusk 

A "prodigy" they call her 

But she knows it isn't so 

No, there’s nothing that you said;
No, I’m not insane.
I’m smiling ‘cause I feel like it
The “why” doesn’t have to be plain.