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Tales of the Wandering Star
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| Hunters Night Part 2 |
[16 May 2004|06:00pm] |
“Well then Sean, come in and make yourself comfortable. I shall make us some tea then.” She bustled out into the living room and then past though an arched doorway, which I assumed led to a kitchen. The living room was a nice off white color, or so I thought until I looked at the walls a bit closer. They were actually a faint yellowish tinge to them. I moved into the open space that was there, a large bay window facing out onto the front lawn was there, purple curtains hung in the windows. They actually looked a bit odd and out of pace.
In front of me, a large Sofa, placed in front of a coffee table and a small vase of roses. They weren’t particularly in season at the moment, but they were pretty none the less. I looked over to the TV and saw family photos. The girl and some other man. They seemed to be happy. I rolled my eyes. I am not one for the whole happiness ever after, but I believe that if you find it, you must keep it.
I looked around the room and was a little surprised at how sparse it seemed. There was not much left in there, but the bookcase and the tall fireplace which dominated one side of the house. I think at the time I thought it was a little odd that they had chosen to place statuary upon it. Most places I have been people usually barely ever use the mantle as a place to show pieces off. These two were beautiful figures, one again of a man and woman, with respectively a sun and moon motif. They were very pretty, and had the old fashioned antique look, yet I know that they were not more than five to seven years old at the most.
As I mused about the living room and the strange decorating scheme, I failed to notice that Rose came back into the room with two cups of hot tea. I smelled it and noticed a slight tinge of peppermint which I mentioned.
“Actually, yes, it is peppermint.” She smiled rather lightly. I was able to get a better look at her this time and now noticed the fact that she was wearing a five pointed star around her neck. I furrowed my brow and she looked at me a little amused. I have never been one for subtlety. I have usually always been an open book. There was something in her smile that was a little disarming though I think. I was not used to something like it.
“Does it surprise you that I wear one?” Her question startled me out of my musing and I shook my head no and sipped at the tea. It was warm and left a tingle as it flowed down my throat. I smiled.
“What is it for? I have never seen someone wear one before.”
She laughed a little again, very slight, almost strained, “I doubt that you will see many wear these at your age. To answer your question though this is a symbol to me.”
“A symbol; like what?”
“Well,” I recognized her pausing. It was almost as if she didn’t know what to say to me. She looked at me quizzically as I sipped the tea that she had given to me. We sat in silence for a good several minutes. I could not think of a thing to say, and for some reason, I could not bring myself to apologize to her again for running into her. After a few more minutes, she carefully placed her teacup on a coaster and looked directly at me in the eyes, leaning forward over the coffee table.
“Sean, what do you believe in?”
The question took me by surprise. I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to answer her. How do you answer that kind of a question? At that time I knew there was no way I could answer it, so I gave her the most canned answer that I could think of.
“I don’t know.”
She frowned at me for a moment and then said, “Well, let me phrase it this way; do you believe in God?”
I was struck dumb where I sat. No one had ever asked me these types of questions before. Most people only asked me if I liked the chocolate milk at the school lunches. That was the extent of my philosophy. After all, what was I supposed to say? I really did not know what to say.
You see, my parents decided that it would be best to divorce each other while I was at a very young age. Due to that, I guess I never had any true anchoring to a religion or other set standard principals of God. Up until then, I had never actually thought about God in any really deep context. I guess you could call me heathen for it, but I never did think to it being a problem.
My mother and father were two different religions; actually I should say they practiced different. My mother’s parents even practiced different, so I did have a little bit of background in several places. However, when I thought of God, I thought of church with my Grandparents, and when I thought of that, I recalled that they were Seventh Day Adventists. Even that was a religious minority.
“Maybe,” I answered. “If there is one, I know I haven’t heard from him at all.” I smiled despite my quip. After all, the closest I had ever been to god was when I had listened to the children’s story in church.
A little spark went off in her eyes. “So then you know about religion?” The remark I had made seemed not to matter at all.
“Yes, I can say that I do know something about going to church.” I frowned and almost instantly a smile slowly played across her lips.
“And tell me Sean, what do you think of Magick?” I looked at her for a moment trying to sort out what it was that she had just said; after all she had placed a direct emphasis on the ending of the word magic. I thought for less than a second when my mouth sputtered out, “Do you mean like pulling rabbits out of hats, card tricks and that sort of thing?”
“No, I mean real magick. Like things that witches and wizards do.”
It was then that I knew I was on dangerous ground. I figured that she was on to something. As to what it was exactly, I’m not sure, but I knew that it was not what I was referring to.
“You mean like flying on brooms and throwing thunderbolts and casting spells and things like that?”
“That is exactly what I mean, casting spells.”
I must have looked exceptionally stupid or rather deeply in thought as she laughed when I failed to answer her for a few moments. “If you have no opinion that is quite all right, I was just wondering…”
“I think it’s real.”
As I cut her off, her smile seemed to sparkle in her eyes. “Is that so? What if I told you that I wear this star around my neck because I believe that I am a witch and that I cast magick spells and such as part of my beliefs?”
I studied her for a moment and thought out what she had just said. It seemed too good to be true. Almost like a fantasy novel. I will be the first to admit my perchance for fantasy novels. I love them. I like the mages, and the princes and princesses, and the entire story behind them. I probably have the largest amount of fantasy fiction books than anyone else I know. What she was saying to me though defied the logic of what I thought to be true and therefore, I figured that I must be reading.
I pinched myself very cautiously and very steadily, slowly applying pressure until I couldn’t stand it. I knew then that I was not dreaming. I wasn’t quite sure what it is that I was thinking then at that moment, but what ever it was the thought vanished as I heard the door behind me open.
“Terra, I’m home! I brought the new sponges for the kitchen from Giant, I hope you don’t…” A man about five-foot eleven walked into the room. He had dark wavy brown hair and a look of puzzlement on his face when he looked at me. A shopping bag in one hand and sponges in the other, she looked a bit rugged, as if he had just gotten out of bed. A small amount of stubble covered his chin and his dark green eyes made for an interesting contrast.
His eyes danced as he shoved a hand out with a sponge in it. “Hi, nice to meet you.” He was quite enthusiastic that I stared at his hand holding the sponge for a moment before he looked down himself and laughed out loud. “Oh, sorry,” he grinned sheepishly as he stuck the plastic covered sponge back into the shopping bag. He then stuck his hand out again and I grasped it in my hand. He shook vigorously and smiled, and continued to do so for a few minute when Rose suddenly said, “Introduce your self, he’s a guest!”
He paused in mid shake and looked at her for a second as if absorbing her words and then said, “My name is Daniel, it is a pleasure to meet you…” he paused and inclined his head to me as I just sat there. He had finally stopped shaking my hand, but still had it in a rather firm grip. I looked down at his hand and noticed a ring on his finger which had a striking resemblance to the star around Rose’s neck. He looked down at our hands, following my gaze and he took his hand back quite suddenly.
“Oh. I’m so sorry; I didn’t mean to shake it quite so much.”
I sniggered and he looked at me and shook his head in defeat. “My name is Sean. It is nice to meet you too Daniel. I’m sorry if I imposed, but I sort of bumped into your girlfriend.” At this Daniel burst out into laughter. I looked to Rose and saw her begin to giggle. Daniel looked at me and said, “What gave you the idea that she was my girlfriend?” I must have looked confused again and I guess slightly flummoxed, cause as I pointed to the pictures that I had seen, Rose began to giggle even more and Daniel began to laugh harder.
“The pictures gave you that thought?” Rose laughed it away and then said, “Those are merely photos of me and my younger brother.” At that moment I felt utterly stupid and must have looked so because Daniel stopped laughing right away. “You thought that I was her boyfriend?” Daniel almost choked on a smile as he burst into laughing again.
“Oh that is a total trip. I love it. Hey Rose, I bought some oranges as well, I remembered that we were out.” He looked at the bag and then pulled one out with a sheepish grin. “See?”
Rose shook her head and looked at Daniel with a look of exasperation. “Didn’t you remember that I was shopping today? I bought oranges already, as well as sponges and the other myriad of things we needed.” Daniel’s eyes widened into shock and then he sighed.
“I knew I was forgetting something,” he said as he tromped into the kitchen area. Rose looked at me and rolled her eyes. “I’ll be back.” With that, I was once again sitting on the sofa alone in a strange house, wondering what was going on.
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| The Archivus is Open Once More! |
[28 Apr 2004|04:30pm] |
I am pleased to inform all that the Archivus will be opening back up in another two weeks. We have fully gone through all of the tomes that were Sent to us in teh last interum and are more than glad to present you all with teh fully unabriged tale of teh Famous Storm Queen as written in two volues, the first Titled "LightBorn" and the Second called "Thendara's Light". The brothers and I are also happy to announce that the normal schedual for the following stories; "Phantom Rose", "A Tapestry of Chorde", and "Weapon's Voice" will be back to being trasnlated as usual. I also regret to inorm you that teh Story of "Oracle" has once again been compromised. The brothers and I have gone to the local magistrate and we are in the process of untagling the mess that we seem to have hit upon.
Do not think that we will not continue to translate the story however from it's original Illarian script. As soon as all the problems are taken care of the story of Luc and his travels will once again be posted. Please bear with us in this time of change.
Thank you once again and if you ahve any messages please feel free to leave them.
One other thing of note. The Brothers wish to know exactly how well it is that they are doing in their translations. If you see anything that makes no sense, in past entries or in future ones, please do not hesitate to comment about it and bring it to our attention. If this is not done, when the books are finally bound, it will be bound with the mistakes written inside of them.
Thank you for your patronage everyone.
Yoakenomyoujou
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| Current Status of the Archivus |
[06 Apr 2004|04:05pm] |
I am sorry to inform you at this moment that the Archivus is currently closed.
One of the Brothers here has developed bloody fingers after trying to open a particularly old tome that was booby-trapped. The story was in Ten'shiren script and has yet to be translated, though we believe it to have something to do with The lands of Chorde. However, there is speculation that it might be the chronicles that describe the time of the famous StormQueen. We shall find out in due time. Also due to the fact that a few of the brothers have requested it as well as some of the scribes, the Arcivus is currently on vaation. Do not worry, though some were forced to go, some of the scribes have taken the stories from the vault with thme. I hope this does not affect you in any way. Please continue to support the Archivus.
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| Some final Notes |
[15 Jan 2004|03:41pm] |
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mood |
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music |
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Dammit - Blink 182 |
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Just so that you now know, the last chapter of "Phantom Rose"(Part 4) has just been truly finished. It had a lot of additions added though it, like the bad battle scene ^^ Oh well. We here at the Archivus hope you like it.
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| Clarifications |
[09 Jan 2004|11:30pm] |
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mood |
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 lethargic |
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This is just a Note.
As a clarifier, I would like to say that on the tale of “The Phantom Rose” everything that is told within Italics, is told from the point of view (or at least is translated as) of Liseth. All else is in everyone else’s world. This is due to the difference in nature that she sees the world and due to the fact that she still suffers from amnesia.
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| Phantim Rose Part 4 |
[10 Jan 2004|01:29am] |
It was becoming a chore at most. She would sit and Gila and that man Kipsen along with the strange one Julis would bring others whose names she could never remember up to meet her. Through all of them, she could tell that most of them had remembered her, or at least knew of her, but she knew that they were all trying to hide it from her.
She knew that they felt guilty for what it was that they were doing to her.
She would let them come, resign herself to allow them to place their hands upon her breast and request for a power that they all were assuming was in her body. There was nothing in her body. She knew that for a fact. As to what the white light was that shined forth and repelled all of the men; she never wanted to think of it. The only reason that Julis continued to come was that sometimes Kipsen needed help to take the men away. What would usually happen is that they would often be knocked unconscious or worse.
She began to dread the visits. Sometimes, there would be as many as 5 in one day. It had only been half a nineday, five days, since the first visit, but she was already weary of it all. All of the men, big and tall, fat and small, all wore the same damned clothes. She was getting tired of the monotony of it all. Gila would always face the floor and look away when the men would beckon to the strange god Theos, she would never look at her when it happened.
It was quite disconcerting, almost as if she didn’t really want it to happen but was powerless to do anything. And the girl knew that it was true. The woman behind it all was not Gila, but Ceril. As the days had progressed from her being in the dungeon to this new prison, an intense hatred had begun welling within her against Ceril. With each passing day it got worse and worse, almost to the point where she would want to rip out the woman’s heart.
At night, she would lie awake in the bed and wonder what it was that she was forgetting. Sometimes, she would remember snatches of things only to have them eluding her grasp again. Then, there as the occasional time where she would remember as she did when she was in the dungeon. She continued to try to remember what had happened before the cell, but still remain at a loss as to what it was that she could not remember.
Now, she placed a hand to her chest again and felt the strange resurging warmth beneath her hand. Snatches of memories tugged and teased her mind and as she stood there, she thought she could remember words. She tried hard, and the warmth consolidated under her hands as she thought once again what it was that Ceril had said to her in the cell before:
“Your power over the Rose ends here my dear.”
*****
Gila sighed as she left the infirmary. She was tired more so than she had ever been in her life. This time was a harrowing experience for everyone in the House, even if they did not know what it was that was going on. Some of the boys had regained consciousness and had been sworn not to tell of what was in the West Tower of the House grounds, yet still other remained in their state of unconsciousness. Rumor flew from one end of the House to the other. Everyone was curious as to what the project was that the Matriarch had devised that was hurting Potentials of the House at such a rate. Yet not once did Manion and his Sword Mistress ever come up. Not once was her name ever mentioned.
It was almost as if the House had forgotten about them.
They had left the House, it was true. However, it did not fit into the House’s rumor mill. Gila sighed and praised whatever force was watching over the unfortunate events. However, many did not have to gossip much about the Potentials anyway. There was something else that was on everyone’s tongues from the stable boys to the cooks to the maids. Everyone was speculating upon it too.
Oraclé had been staying since the beginning of the nineday. No one knew why and it was not as if she was about to divulge as to why. However, it had been speculated that she was in the Matriarchs office for long conversations about gods-knew-what.
Gila knew though, because the conversations were in fact happening. After them more often than not, Gila was summoned by Ceril and was screamed at for a while herself due to the nature of the conversations. ‘That girl’, as Ceril was now referring to her as was taking up more of her time than she should. It was a slow process, but they had been going though the potentials and slowly but surly, it was reaching a state where Ceril thought that no one would be able to claim the sword.
Gila was on her way to the office for no doubt another conversation of the sort at that moment. As she neared the tall doors, she braced herself for the onslaught. As she opened the doors, she walked in to see Ceril sitting in her chair with her face hidden behind her crossed hands. Her eyes were staring narrowly over at her as Gila closed the door. Red silk bunched at her elbows as the sleeves for her dress fell, showing the pail skin of her arms. Her hair was in complete disarray, and as Gila made a slight curtsy, she reached for her braid to tug at it.
“Don’t do that, I know you’re nervous, but if it weren’t for that damn girl, then we wouldn’t be in this position would we?” Gila tired not to let the intensity of the woman in front of her scare her. She would not let it get to her, at least not yet.
Ceril snarled. “That damn girl still has it, still has what no longer belongs to her. Why?” It had not been the first time Ceril had asked that question, and it wouldn’t be the last Gila assumed. Ceril stood up and began to pace at the other side of the desk. So far, her anger had not come to the forefront, and for that Gila was happy.
“What makes it worse is that damn woman coming in here and trying to meddle so damn much…” Gila knew immediately that she was talking of Oraclé. She knew it would be dangerous to understand what it was that was going on there. She tugged at her braid and bit her tongue at the same time to prevent herself from saying anything that would prolong the conversation beyond the length that it had to be. She had learned early on in this that to try to argue or reason, only made the conversation longer.
As if sensing what it was that she was trying to do, Ceril paused in her pacing. “What is it? Well? Out with it damn you woman!” Her voice had taken a dangerous edge and was beginning to take on the tone. Gila thought quickly and then blurted out the first thing that came to her mind. “Perhaps Oraclé knows what it is that you want and works to stop you; maybe even clouded the girls mind.” As soon as it was out of her mouth, she clasped a hand up to her mouth and her eyes widened as Ceril’s did too.
“You think that… she perhaps… magick…” Ceril’s eyes thinned again. “That conniving scheming old goat! Spawn of a syphilitic whore and…” Gila cut her off before she could continue. “Maybe we should let the girl rest. After all, we have been running her ragged with all the potentials. It extracts a price from them, but it also extracts one from her.” Ceril turned wild eyes upon Gila and for a moment, nothing registered.
“That seems all right. Take Julis with you though. I don’t want you under the same damn spell.” As Ceril waved a dismissive hand at her, Gila realized that she was getting off easy. For the second time, she thanked whatever forces were at work and rushed out of the study. Once outside, she took several deep breaths and then smoothed her dress out once more, the shimmering yellow fabric smoothing out the creases beneath her hand.
Turning down the hall, she sighed at having to take Julis with her, but decided that it was probably the right thing to do. While walking to gather Julis to take with her to the West Tower, she passed a large painting of the twins Alexia and Alexal, the Twin Roses. They were remarkably identical even after knowing that they were twins, even now, in the painting, it was almost impossible to tell them apart. As the story went and was told, one of the twins had died, and the other remained alive. Yet there had been two Swords of Theos. What had happened when one twin died? Had the mysterious power of the sword duplicated just vanished, or had it gone somewhere else?
Gila shrugged as she walked down to the practice field and inquired again after Julis. She soon found him on the grounds near the roses. “Pretty are they not?” She startled at his enquiry after her. She had not known that he had sensed her. “You have to come with me.”
He turned around. “Another Potential?”
“Not on your life. No, thankfully, the Matriarch has decided to give her a rest for now.” At this statement, Julis smirked. “Is that so,” was all he remarked. As they walked to the West Tower, Julis remained smirking to himself. Gila was not sure she wanted to know why.
*****
The girl opened the door when she heard the knocking. She sighed inwardly when she saw Julis and Gila. She thought they had brought another Potential, but it was not true. She was happy about that. She smiled as they came in, and closed the door behind them, hoping that no one else would be coming in.
“How are you today?”
She simply smiled at Gila’s question as if she were mute. Gila sighed and sat at the table that was before the hearth. Kipsen had made sure that there was enough wood here to last the girl forever if need be. Julis simply curled his lip at her. “Can’t you even respond normally?”
“Yes I can,” she said in an even voice.
“Then learn to do so more often.” Julis rolled his eyes.
“Julis!” Gila’s admonishment did not go unnoticed by the girl. She placed a hand on her breast and felt the familiar tug of the warmth. Julis gave her a strange stare and she immediately dropped her hand. “Ignore him. He’s been a bit odd lately.” Gila’s idle chatter suddenly snapped something in her mind.
… a bit odd…
Julis smiled benignly. “What ever you say. Why are we here again?”
Gila shook her head. “So that this girl doesn’t think that we are trying to kill her is all, we are comforting her!” Julis rolled his eyes at Gila and the girl almost giggled.
“You mean Liseth over here?”
… Liseth…
The name tugged at her memory. “Yes I am talking about her you fool! Who else would I be talking about, your mother?” Gila snapped at the boy in front of her, the girl was not paying that much attention though anymore. The feeling of warmth had come back to her again now. She heard Julis’ voice, “Was what happened to Manion ever discovered?”
…Manion… that name sounded familiar…
“No, bless his soul, I’m not sure if we ever will hear of him again.” The girl heard Gila sigh again. She stood up and both Gila and Julis noticed.
“Julis… the heat,” was all she could say and Julis’ eyes widened. “Julis help me.” There was pleading in her voice, though she knew that it was not originally there. Julis continued to sit there and gap. Gila looked on with shock. The girls breathing began to grow faint and then turned into a pant. She placed both hands on her chest and her bosom heaved under an exaggerated deep breath.
“The heat, it’s so… hot… the Rose.” At this, Julis stood up immediately. “Did you say the Rose?” She nodded wordlessly and vigorously to his question. The room blurred for a moment and then Gila was on her feet as well. “We should go get Kipsen, we need another witness for this.” As she made for the door, Julis began to turn to her follow her, when the girl grabbed his wrist. “Please, no don’t. I think it is reacting to you.”
At this, Julis began to gap again and then his mouth turned into a devious smile. She didn’t know if she was telling the truth or not, but she would soon find out. Gila shook her head. “It’s too dangerous.” Julis ignored her and placed a hand on top of the girls heaving chest. The girl wrapped both of her hands around his wrists. “Please, it hurts.”
Julis was smiling while the girl thought over the lie she had just told. What she was feeling was almost like rapture. It was flowing through her and the warmth and the heat was so pure; she could taste the words she was supposed to say, but she heard other words first. The first thing though was the shriek.
“Julis no!”
“She told me it was reacting to me, so I’m going to draw it from her!” he smiled viciously and then spoke aloud, while her head buzzed, she could almost barely hear him. “Power of the hidden and abandoned Rose,” She could feel a wind gathering around her ankles and slowly forming around her and pulling itself upwards. She continued to grip onto his wrist, holding his hand pressed against her breasts.
“Power that is hidden within this vessel, Head me, your new Master and come forth!” The words were different, but they conveyed meaning. She opened her mouth and then said, “This power is not yours!” Her eyes glowed with an intense green light and then Julis was slammed against the wall of the tower. “This power is not yours to claim! It is still claimed by another!” Held in midair, Julis’ body slammed into the tower wall again and cracks appeared against the stone. He tried to scream but was once again slammed against the wall having the wind knocked out of him.
She threw her head up as the wall collapsed behind him. Rocks fell into the courtyard below and Julis almost fell to the ground, if Gila had not caught him before he fell out the hole in the wall. The sun shined into the small room and a stray wind blew across the room, stoking the fire till it had by chance, caught to the wood pile next to it. It burst into flame. The girl’s chest heaved once and then she spoke what had been on the tip of her tongue since she could remember.
“Power of Theos that sleeps within me; power of the sacred Rose; head your Master’s call and come forth!” At that moment, Gila’s own jaw dropped as she let the unconscious Julis slide to the floor. The girl swooned back and into the arms of someone she knew… Manion; that was his name! She smiled at him and he pulled the sword straight from her body. She saw Gila’s eyes bulge. Manion was tall dark-haired, and built like an ox and was now calmly walking down the stairs. The girl paused for a moment and then ran after him calling his name.
*****
The first thing she saw as she was looking at the West Tower, cursing the girl was the stones fly into the courtyard below. Ceril put a hand up to her mouth and for a moment, a maniacal glee spread across her face as she thought that the girl might be dead. Then she remembered that she had just sent Gila up there. Then she recalled that she had told Gila to take Julis up there. For a moment, horror spread across her face, in a mixed up jumble of emotion. That emotion soon turned to rage as she saw a figure grab another one that had almost fallen out.
“She did this,” was all she could whisper in a strangled hiss to herself. Ceril began to seethe with rage. She instantly rushed out towards the hall and yanked both of the doors open with such force, that they both slammed on either side of the inside of the study. The sound of both doors crashing into the walls echoed down the hall. A serving woman who had been coming to bring Ceril her lunch on a tray was startled and dropped the tray to the floor with a clatter.
Ceril whirled on the girl with anger in her eyes. “You clumsy little fool! Pick it up!” As she began to walk by she placed a well aimed kick to the girl’s side and walked on. “Get out of my way,” was all she said as the girl fell to the ground in surprise. Red trailed behind her as the dress fluttered silently in her wake. All who stopped to pass here paused to make cursory nods and bows as well as pleasantries, but Ceril didn’t hear any of it. She continued to stride down the hall towards the West Tower.
*****
The teacups on the table rattled all of a sudden, and Oraclé casually turned her head towards the sound. With all the grace she could muster, she stood up from the chair that she had been sitting in and then left her apartments. She walked down the hall calmly and soon reached the statue of justice in time enough to hear snickering.
“What the devil did you two do this time?” The snickering stopped long enough for Rellis to turn a single eye upon her and Dinia to fix her hair. “Oraclé,” Rellis said in reverence. She turned and nodded to his acknowledgement. “What is this all about? What just made this entire house shake so much?”
Dinia smiled rather smugly. “Oh but didn’t you See what happened? After all, as the mighty Oraclé, all you have to do is look and you will know.”
The woman in white whirled on the girl in front of her. “Why couldn’t you have been a little nicer like the last ones? You know very well I didn’t see anything of the sort. Tell me now, or your mistress will have to find herself new heralds.” At this remark, both Dinia and Rellis stiffened.
“Now Oraclé, there is no need to go making threats,” Rellis tried to soothe the egos of both women at once. “Shut up Rellis, you are just as bad as she is,” Oraclé jabbed a finger in Dinia’s direction. “Tell me what happened. I hate sitting around here and bantering for no reason. And I am half blind, not deaf. Tell me now!”
“There has been an explosion in the West Tower,” Rellis replied. “Ceril made an announcement that the House Guard is to be collected at once as there is… a dangerous woman, on the grounds.” At the last part of his statement, he smiled rather crookedly. Oraclé’s eyes widened for a moment. “Dear lord, you don’t mean the girl do you?”
Dinia shook her head rather vigorously. “Oh yes, Ceril means the girl. No one knows that she has the sword however. The West Tower has also caught fire. A bucket Brigade has been called for all the good that it will do.”
Oraclé swore softly to herself. “She’s going to get that girl killed isn’t she, so that she can have the Sword… oh Goddess! Even if she burns down House Theos around our ears!” Oraclé turned at the sound of approaching footsteps. “House Guard,” Dinia murmured. “They are probably going to search for her now,” Rellis countermanded. Oraclé picked up the bottoms of her robes and then turned to the two that were standing behind her. “Well don’t just stand there, hurry up and follow me! We have to stop this now.” The two looked at each other and then shrugged as they followed her indifferently.
*****
Ceril strode down the hall defiantly as she smiled to herself. She had called the House Guard together to hunt down the girl who was now free of the West Tower and was going to just kill her. ”Who needs to have her hold the sword? Once I kill her, it will move on to another. Doesn’t matter who, everyone in this house is so easily manipulated; it would be a surprise for me not to get it.”
As she ordered a small section of the Guard to go down the passageways towards the North Sector of the House, she smiled at a particular thought. Manion was ever the pragmatist and always followed what ever Ceril said to the letter. It was too bad that he was not here to witness what his listening to her was going to do. She laughed out loud as she dispatched another section of the Guard down another hallway.
The Girl would not leave the House alive.
*****
She could feel the power rise through her as she descended the staircase. She could feel the ebb and tide of the power as it flowed through her body and followed the trails that it made as she followed the man whom she knew to be called Manion. “Manion,” she called out to him as she continued to see him just barely out of her site. “Please stop and wait for me!” The man did not stop and continued to walk down the stairs just out of sight. She struggled to keep up with him, as he didn’t appear to be running but walking briskly.
As she reached the bottom step she took a better look at him and noticed that he was bathed in a blue light. The clothes that he was wearing were the same as the clothes that the other men who had come to visit her were wearing; however, he had a single sash around his waist. He turned around and as she looked into his eyes, she saw nothing but an expanse of blue. Deep searing blue, and her mind jolted and a memory of this man smiling at her and calling her name…
… Liseth…
… Her name was Liseth.
“Manion!” He turned around and so did she at the sound of boots from a man dressed in red and white rivalry. About seven men followed behind him with swords drawn. Manion slowly turned around and brandished his sword in perfect stance, on hand behind him and the other holding the sword aloft. “Manion!” All the men turned to look at the girl who had called his name. The man in front spoke. “That must be her; she must be the girl that the Matriarch was talking about.
The girl shook her head and tried to remember the man who stood in front of her, but nothing came. She shook he head and cried the name once more.
“Manion!”
At that instant, the guards moved forward and so did Manion. With a lunge Manion dived at the first man in front of him. The girl shook her head; but it was too late. With a slash down the man’s center, the man collapsed to the stone floor with an open wound on the front of his armor. His eyes opened wide as he sunk to the floor, collapsing on his knees. The guard had a look of surprise on his face as another of the guards came forward. “No stop please!” She didn’t want this to happen. She didn’t want Manion to do this, he shouldn’t be doing this. She cried out again as Manion lifted his sword to block a strike from the man in front of him and then swerved as a man behind him tried to thrust at his abdomen.
A single parry and the man’s sword went through the other one, skewering him. The guard looked up and tried to strike once more, but Manion ducked out of the way under the sword, and spun to the right as the sword fell on top of the other guard and slicing into his shoulder. The guard snarled and pulled his sword out of his fellow swordsman and then spun his sword in an arc in an effort to catch him. The intricate sword that Manion held in his hands sliced directly into the air to parry the movement.
The guard pressed his attack, locking hilts with Manion and forcing him to stay on one knee as another guard charged him. Manion took his legs and place a well aimed kick to the guard who was trying to keep him occupied and managed to hit him in the leg. He guard buckled and managed to loose his handle on the sword and had to readjust his weight. Manion took advantage of it and dropped his guard long enough to slash the guards knees as he tumbled forward with his sword. At this point, the girl… Liseth… closed her eyes.
*****
Ceril had been waiting in her office for the result of the guards when she saw Oraclé walk in instead of guards. Ceril stood up immediately and was about to say something when she saw Gila walk in after her, her dress in tatters, smudge marks from the smoke all over her. Gila stumbled forward and then tried to bow, but almost fell. Oraclé stepped forward and helped her.
“Matriarch, the girl has, Liseth,” Gila paused a moment to cough. “She has escaped through the front door. She took out half of the House Guard. She still has the Sword of Theos with her too. All of the Men reported though that she continually called out Manion’s name the entire time.” Ceril shook in rage and slammed both hands on the table in front of her.
“I want her found and I want her dead.”
Oraclé shook her head, and the West Tower burned.
|
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| Phantom Rose Part 3 |
[07 Jan 2004|12:01am] |
She sat down politely in the chair that was sitting in the middle of the room, dressed in one of the better dresses that were in the wardrobe. Gila had promised her some company and she did not want to disappoint. It had been two days since she had been moved and begun to be treated better. Gila had brought her a breakfast tray in the morning and told her that she should be dressed to receive visitors after she had eaten.
She had smiled and said she would be finely dressed that day. So she was as well, dressed in a deep purple and along the hem of the dress, a knot of thorns had been stitched as well as along the ends of the tight sleeves. It had taken her a while to dress as there were many buttons along the sleeves. The sleeves were tight and cling to her forearms, yet the buttons stopped right at the elbow. She had been glad for that. Unfortunately, they had been along the underside of the sleeves, and not the top. She had to button each by hand by herself. She had also managed to button up the back of the corset by herself as well. Along the tall collar, there was another missing patch, as if something had been there, but was no longer. She had thought about it briefly but no more.
She now sat at the small table near the hearth in her room. The fire had been burning quite cheerily and the onset of Autumn was coming as she looked through the small window at the tower she was in. She had not met with very many other people besides Gila. She was just now also realizing that the tower in which she was staying in was just a prettier prison. She sighed a bit, but she stood up to look out the window. She thought that she could see the horizon of water, but she wasn’t sure.
At that moment, there was a gentle knock on the door, and she spun around on her feet. There in the doorway was the woman Gila and three other men. A fourth man burst into the room after them all looking frantic. “Where is she? Is she really in here?” At this, the man laid eyes on her. His dark green eyes seemed to pierce her through the soul. She paused for a moment and he rushed over to her, in a flurry of crème colored clothes and black hair.
“Oh dear gods in heaven, you are safe and alive. Oh Liseth, I am so happy you are alive.”
A tumbler clicked in her head as he kneeled on one knee and kissed her hand. There was a sudden flickering in her vision as she suddenly thought she remembered something.
Liseth…
Her eyes widened as she looked at the man in front of her who was now kissing her hand tenderly. She felt an intense pain in the back of her head, a deep throbbing. Gila was suddenly there and grabbing the youth by his collar.
“Lithan what on earth are you doing?” Her voice was high and she jerked him to his feet. All in one motion he stood up and she slapped him. “What on earth is wrong with you? Accosting her like that. Are you out of your mind?” The boy looked hurt for a moment till she heard another voice.
“He’s half out of his mind the besotted fool. We all know what his mind is on after all.” This came from a curly brown haired boy with dark brown eyes. His arms were crossed as he walked over to the hearth and stood there. He was dressed in the same tunic, pants, and boots. She looked at the other two men, one exceptionally tall and the other of an average height. The tall one had black hair as well, but green eyes. As for the other, he had brown wavy shoulder length hair and very strangely distant gray eyes. They eyes however seemed familiar.
Another memory, this time of a man with gray eyes hit her. She grasped at her chest and looked directly at the ground. “What’s the mater dear?” That was Gila’s voice, and it sounded worried. She refused to look up. “Are you okay?”
Liseth…
Grey Eyes…
Liseth…
The man with the black hair moved forward towards her. “Here now child, there is nothing to be afraid of. My name is Kipsen. Kipsen Theosin. We are only here to talk and maybe,” he was cut off by the other boy he was with.
“Kipsen, please don’t make this any harder than it already is.” The man who was standing next to him looked annoyed at the girl. “Let’s get this over with please.”
“Jullis,” began Kipsen, but he was cut off with a wave of the hand. “I am sorry sir; it was only my prerogative to get this over with.” Julis smiled at her and she thought that it was a bit false at that moment. She tried to smile back, but faltered and then failed to do so. The boy named Mikel walked over and placed a hand on Kipsen’s shoulder. “I guess we should start then,” his voice was very gentle.
Kipsen nodded and then turned to Lithan. “Since you… you just get to go first. It’s only right.” The girl suddenly had a very bad feeling, something was not right. Lithan walked over to her and then spoke in a low voice. “I’m sorry if this seems like it’s a bad thing, but I know that if you could remember, you would be all right with it.” The girl looked wide eyed for a moment and then looked to Gila. Gila simply looked to the floor.
Lithan placed his hand up into the air, until it was hovering just an inch above her bosom and then spoke in a loud clear tone, “Power of Theos that lies in this vessel, Power of the Rose; I ask you now to come forth to this supplicant so that I may be your new master.” The words sounded familiar for a moment and then there was a sudden tingle that she felt as a shiver went down her spine. Warmth gathered in her chest, just below where his hand was and then, it suddenly turned ice-cold. She gasped, and for a moment, a look of sheer hope filed Lithan’s eyes.
Then the world exploded in a light of color.
White light poured out from her chest under his hand and then there was a loud sound, like a crack of thunder. Her eyes widened in fear. Gila, in an effort to try to leave, tripped over her own dress and crashed straight into Mikel. Tarth took a few steps back and froze against the wall staring in abject horror. Kipsen tried to stand his ground and watch, but fear showed in the back of his eyes. The only one who looked bored was Julis. He stood there staring on and even yawned for a moment
The next moment, Lithan crumpled to the floor.
“Looks like it’s not for him,” Julis suddenly spoke shattering the silence from a moment before.
“This is not something to be snide about Lithan,” It was Mikel who rebuked him. Kipsen still did not move. However, it was Tarth who frowned and then strode forward angrily pronouncing the same words that Lithan had just uttered. He placed his hand directly on the girl’s chest and then said, “The sword is mine Liseth.” She shook her head no and before she could say anything, Tarth was thrown across the room as the same light and sound engulfed the room once more. Mikel was shocked as much as Gila when he soot up and said, “This is enough.”
“On the contrary Mikel, just try a different set of words. I am sure you will get it along. After all, don’t you want to be the master of the sword?” Julis smiled rather falsely again ad Mikel ground his teeth in a sneer. “Some would value their lives better than that Julis.” The girl looked to Gila and said her name in a strangled voice, almost like a plea. Gila looked at her like a woman who had lost all control and it was then that the girl realized that Gila was not the one who was in control.
A single named snapped into her mind like a bullet. Ceril; the woman who had imprisoned her. She almost broke into tears when she heard Julis’ voice again. “Well, then, Mikel, let me tell you that you need to ask the sword itself and not the power.”
“And you know this how?” Skepticism filled Mikel’s voice.
“I don’t, but after seeing how those two tried to force it, maybe you should ask it…”
Mikel nodded brown curls and then walked over to the now frightened girl. Tears began to stream down her face as he grasped her shoulders. “I am sorry I have to do this.” The girl mouthed a silent no and then began to sob as he placed a hand on her chest. “Power of the Forgotten Rose, I ask of thee to come forth and find a new master…” Mikel could say no more however as he was thrown back almost immediately. No light, just the sound crashed through the room. He slammed right directly into the wall and splitting his head open. Gila cursed as the girl fell to her knees and began to bawl.
“This is not what I signed on for Gila.” Kipsen had warning in his voice. Gila shook her head. “I don’t understand what it is that could be causing this.”
“I do.” Julis stepped forward and then knelt towards the girl, encircling her with his arms. She grasped tightly onto him, hoping he would not do the same. Kipsen raised a single eyebrow. As the girl continued to cry, Gila stomped her foot. “Well out with it, or are you going to leave us in the dark?”
“The sword still deems her worthy of being the Sword Mistress, it’s as simple as that.”
“Oh, that’s a load of horse…”
“I think he may have a point Kipsen.” Gila cut him off before he made the expletive. Kipsen had a sudden look cross his face that the girl could not explain, but she noticed that he didn’t push what ever it was that Gila and Julis were talking about. She was glad. “Help me drag these idiots out of here Julis,” said Kipsen. Gila even came and helped a bit, but when they were all gone, the girl was happy.
*****
Ceril had no idea as to how she was supposed to explain the conditions of three of the House’s best Potentials. She had done her best to assuage the rumors going around. She had it passed around that the three of them had been on a special assignment but that it had gone awry. As to what the assignment was, no one knew. However, the West Tower did not come up once in all the speculation for what it was worth. Only a few minutes earlier, she had thrown Gila out of her study in disgust.
She looked out the window in her study as she thought about the three Potentials. Tarth was one of their better swordsman in all of House Theosin. Mikel was rather smart all on his own, a brilliant tactician. Then there was Lithan, the most unlikely of all to be on a special mission of any sort. She cursed her fate as she looked at the West Tower. “I wish you would just die,” she muttered to herself.
“I think that would be most unwise Matriarch Ceril du’Theosin. Words still carry power in this age.”
Ceril’s eyes narrowed as she struggled to place the voice she heard behind her. Then she snarled out loud, “Oraclé. Why must you torment me now, of all times?” She turned around and in front of her stood the woman dressed in her eternal white. The white robes were immaculately bright in the sun that was pouring through the window, and only served to irritate Ceril more than she already was. What she didn’t need at this time, was a crazy woman in her study.
“I am not here to admonish you my dear, but to warn you.” The voice within the hood was the same as it always had been, concerned, yet condescending at the same time. It made Ceril Sick as she stared at the blind woman and her white hair, which hung in a thick braid out of her cowl. Ceril sneered at the woman again, the distaste she had for Oraclé coming off in waves.
“You would do that wouldn’t you old hag.”
Oraclé didn’t flinch at the words, but neither did she shy away from the subject as Ceril turned her back on her. “Thinking like I am not here will not make me go away Ceril’istha.” Ceril’s eyes open wide as she heard for the first time since she was a small child, the usage of her full name. Her voice went into a hiss, “Don’t you ever call me that again you crazy old bitch.”
“You forget yourself Matriarch…”
The condescension that the Oraclé had in her voice set Ceril off again. “Say what it is you came to say and then get off the property that is House Theosin.” Oraclé stiffened. “I don’t know how it was that others in the past dealt with you, or how it is that you manage to live so long when you should be dust,” at this, the old woman flinched, “but if I catch you on the premise again after this, then I will personally have you killed on sight by the House Guard.”
Oraclé clasped both of her hands together in front of her and spoke in a clear tone, almost like a mother berating a child. “What you are doing is unmistakably stupid. Continue with what you are doing, and I am sure you court disaster at the hands of that girl.”
Ceril remained behind her desk staring at the old woman. “What girl are you talking about?”
“You know exactly what I am talking about Matriarch.” Oraclé used Ceril’s title just as it was to her, meaningless. Ceril saw the threat behind her words and placed both hands on the desk in front of her, so as not to suddenly attack the old woman from across it. She knew that if the woman stayed much longer, she would bay for her blood and try to kill her. She hated Oraclé not only for what she could do, but for what she had done when she was younger.
In hopes of learning faster weather she would become Sword Mistress, she had asked Oraclé weather or not it would happen. In Short, Oraclé had told her that she would always be near it, but never able to grasp it. Ceril had gone away from that reading, determined to change her future. In the end though, Oraclé’s prediction had come true. She had hated Oracle ever since Manion had taken the sword. She resolved after that, never to deal with the woman ever again. Until now, she had kept that vow.
As if sensing the problem, Oraclé spoke in a soft tone. “You must stop this madness. Three of your best are now broken, and you don’t know if they will return or not. You still don’t know what happened to the original Mangus Master, and already, you try to temper the sword to someone else.”
“You are making me sick old woman… enough.” Ceril’s voice was dangerously low.
“You must stop this before it gets out of hand Ceril’istha.” Oraclé continued to push her point.
“I said enough, get out.”
“You cannot force the sword from someone who it still thinks is worthy to wield it.”
“I said enough old woman.” Ceril’s voice became a demand.
“You cannot punish her for being what you could not obtain!”
“Shut up! I can do what ever I thrice-cursed well please to do! I am Matriarch of this House!”
“And the truth comes out.” Oraclé sighed. “You are playing God in a house that still remains Godless my dear.” Even after Oraclé said it, the meaning was not lost on Ceril. The saying had come from the time of the Twin Roses. That was when the Sword of Theos had split into two. Afterwards though, only one was ever able to be called again. Many thought that it was because of the fact that the wielders during that time had been twins.
Ceril could not have given less thought to it.
“Give it up Ceril. There is no use.” Ceril tightened her fists in anger at her sides. “Old woman, get out of here now.”
Oraclé had a look of genuine concern on her face as she spoke the last she would, “Stop Ceril. Stop this before it gets out of hand, for if you don’t then know that it will.” With that, the old woman left the confines of the Study of the House of Theosin’s Matriarch. As the door closed in front of her, Ceril turned around to look out the window across the garden at the West Tower.
*****
As Oraclé walked away from the tall doors that lead to the Matriarch’s study, she sighed in concern. She knew for a fact that Ceril would not stop. She knew that Ceril saw it as justice that the woman who took away the thing that she had most wanted in all her life was now under her power, and powerless to stop her. It made the old woman sad.
As she walked down the halls, that she had become accustomed to since she was a young woman, she came across the Statue of Justice. The likeness would not have been spotted by anyone else, but she knew the face that was on the statue of marble. The same face, yet different, was to be found all over House Theosin. She smiled and spoke softly, “How much your House has changed Lady Michelna.” She had only meant it to be in jest, but when the voice behind her spoke, she became cross a bit herself, even though she smiled.
“Why do you address her such?”
If you have to ask, then it is rather best that I not tell you.” Oraclé turned around to face Dinia. “What ever are you doing here my dear?”
Dinia smiled rather politely and then smiled rather predatorily. “Me? I am not here for purposes that you are thinking of obviously.” Dinia tilted her head a bit to the side and then spoke again. “However, why are you here?”
Oraclé looked at her with tired eyes. “I am here on business that does not concern you my read Raven.” At these words, Dinia bristled. Oracle continued however, “I can only assume that since you are here, your Brother is here as well?” Oracle said Brother with as much distaste as she could manage. Dinia brushed a stray hair from her forehead as she smiled again her predatorial smile. “You are correct in assuming such.”
“How long have you been here, Dinia is it now?”
“You know very well what to call me, now you are just being difficult.” Dinia looked extremely disappointed. Almost as if on cue, Rellis walked into the hall. He smiled, though nothing like Dinia did. His smile was colder than anything else. Oraclé was used to it now though. His smile did not send a shiver down her spine as it had others in the past, young and old alike.
“Why hello Oraclé, I hope all is well with you?”
Oraclé sighed and then spoke in a clear tone. “Both of you should go back to your master; now. There is much afoot here that bodes ill and makes little sense.”
Rellis smiled his smile and spoke with precision of a practiced speech, “But Oraclé that is precisely what we are doing. We are collecting information about this potentially volatile situation. WE are here to access the situation.” At this point, Rellis grinned, and Oraclé tried all too hard to restrain herself from wringing his neck.
“Fine then, but I assure you if anything goes wrong, you will have to let it play out before you take your claim.” Rellis nodded only slightly as Dinia grudgingly did the same.
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| Hunters Night Part 1 |
[18 Dec 2003|04:27pm] |
Alright, I guess this story has been coming for a while now. I guess I should have written it a long while ago. But now the silence is deafening, and I should start somewhere non? These have been sitting in the vaults for a while; I guess I should be letting people read them now. The only name that has been changed is my own, so no worries. Enjoy it.
~ Yoakenomyoujou
I guess I was a bit nervous when I am around new people. I guess, it never shows, I tend to be either a bit shy, or a bit over show offish. The day I met Rose, I don’t think I was either. I was speechless. Actually, I should have been more careful as to where I was going. After all, when you run into someone, you don’t try to continue running. Then again, I was just tired of my life at that time. School was bad, and home life was worse. I didn’t want to be found and I didn’t want to be seen, and I wanted to go away from everyone, so very far away.
But she had stopped me. She had stopped me dead in my tracks with her words. Usually, when you run into someone, they say something discouraging, or even curse you. Not Rose. She didn’t have a bad thing to say, she just bent over to pick up the brown bag she had dropped and said, “I hope you get to where you’re going!” she said it without even a hint of malice and I was shocked I guess. It made me pause and turn around.
As I looked back, I saw her ungraciously chase an orange. Her hair fluttered by a slight breeze as she finally got it and put it back in the bag. She looked up and saw me and then said, “Oh? You are back already? That was quick.” I spoke to say that I was sorry when she smiled at me. “You must be absolutely exhausted from running all that way. Why don’t you come in and have some tea?”
I did a double take. Here I was standing and she was offering me tea. I actually felt really bad, and I couldn’t believe myself when I heard my voice.
“Alright, tea actually sounds nice.”
She smiled and then ushered me into a rather large house. The front lawn was trimmed nicely and a bed of the most beautiful roses I had ever seen were planted on both sides of the door. They had streaks of red and white in them and trailing up the side was a few small bushes. The door was a dark colored mahogany and had a beautifully carved Rose in the glass. At the top, it was blooming and a single petal was falling down as the door opened. I blinked and she smiled again.
“Come right on in.” Her eyes danced, and even though since I was a little child and told never to talk with strangers, I went into the house. The first thing that I saw was a large and ornate mirror. It was beautiful. It was at least larger than I was. It was rectangular, tall, and surrounded in gold. The corners of the mirror were covered in small cherubs and they were each holding small trumpets that were pointed in the four corner directions. Upon closer inspection, each corner had an affiliation to an element. Earth, air, fire, and water, were all represented by the cherubs. Along the sides of the mirror, coursed all manner of creatures that also represented the elements and at the top a man and a woman each held hands and stretched their hands to the sides.
The thing was extravagantly beautiful. It was a piece that singularly shocked, yet amazed me at the same time. The first thing I saw in it was I. I was never much to look at in my own eyes. Reflecting back at me I saw myself and I just stood there.
A mass of short dark curly hair was upon my head as I looked out from black eyes. My shirt was a bit tousled and the backpack strap that was on my shoulder was sagging with the weight of the backpack. My skin was actually kind of slick with a bit of sweat. My skin is a slight brown, therefore the red of me cheeks was just barely showing. However, the red of my cheeks was showing, and so one could understand just how cold it really was at that moment.
Rose hung her coat up on a hook that was by the door and turned a smiling face towards me. “Can I take your coat?” Her hair was a dark black and her brown eyes were smiling at me almost as much as her mouth. I shrugged off my backpack and placed it on the floor and handed her my coat. She hung it up and then said, “This way.” I followed her into a rather large living room. “Please have a seat and I’ll go make the tea. By the way, my name is Rose. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
She put out her hand and I grasped it firmly. “My name is Sean.”
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| Phantom Rose Part 2 |
[04 Dec 2003|09:56pm] |
Another day had passed since the woman had come to visit her in her cell. She sat once again on the hard stone bench that was within her cell. They had been treating her kindly but she was now concerned. She still had no recollection of who she was, or for that matter who the woman claiming to be Ceril was. It was all muddled in her head. She slowly counted the number of days since she had been in the cell on her fingers. It was the twentieth day now. She sighed in spite of herself and shook her head. Gathering her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them, she proceeded to cry again for nothing made sense at all.
*****
Ceril sat at her mahogany desk and smiled to herself while tracing the pattern on the center of it. Gila stood in front of her tugging her braid. By Ceril’s standards it was a horribly habit and very unladylike. By Gila’s standards, she found herself doing it only when she was around Ceril. Gila paused for a moment and then continued to do so. Ceril was smiling even bigger now. To Gila it was as if she knew what made her nervous.
“I just received a missive today. No one has found out if Manion is alive or dead. There are no rumors, no reports, nothing.” Ceril tapped the design of the crown and the sword with her nails and then began to trace it again. Gila paused to smooth her light blue dress down for a moment and then clasped her hands tightly in front of her.
“So then we do not know if he is still at large.”
“That is correct.” Ceril taps the design on the desk again. It amuses her as she continues to smile. Gila shifts a little to the left and then places all her weight on that foot. She dares not to speak out of turn, but now is beginning to tire of the waiting for it. “So this does not explain as to why we found her as we did. How did she come like that?”
“She was found south in Havenrest. It’s a small village that lies almost directly at the foot of the Sword. She was found alone. Two weeks and no one has come for her at all.” Ceril stopped tracing the design that had been carefully inlayed into the wood. She looks down at it for a fraction of a second and her smile turns into a frown of disappointment. “I never had anything against Manion, I just never knew it would end this way. He was easily manipulated. I was obvious all but from the beginning that he would inherit the sword. I just don’t understand. Ah, Michelna give me guidance.” She stood up and walked over to a portrait of a girl, which was in the study.
Ceril was wearing dark green that day, the dress was rather sparse and had no immediate decoration, and the only odd thing about it was that the sleeves continued on over her hands and then separated around her fingers and made it look like she was wearing a pair of shoulder length gloves that had all of the fingers cut off. The girl in the portrait though was standing in a traditional background of the main hall and held within her grasp the famous Sword of Theos; the power of the house. Behind her was the statue of Justice.
Ceril passed a hand over the oils upon the canvas and then stepped away. She looked at Gila with piercing Green eyes and then spoke in a clipped tone. “I think it is time that we get on with things around here now. I guess we should prepare her for the potentials to coming down. We shall have them go down to her one at a time. It will be perfectly all right. Gila, I want you to se to her being properly attired for this. I do not want it to be said that she was looking like a pauper.” Gila nodded at the command.
“Start assembling them in groups of twos and threes no more. They will be told separately so as no rumor can be spread over like wildfire. Very few people even know that we have her, so to be on the safe side, it shall be extremely difficult to keep it out of gossip for a while.” She turned her gaze from Gila and walked over to the large window behind the desk, which looked upon the House gardens. The sun haloed her form for a moment and then she turned back around and spoke once more, her tone quiet. “I am the head of this House now. I am the current Matriarch. I will not have it fall into disarray because of a simple fool who didn’t pay attention to the details of staying alive.”
Gila shiver as the tone conveyed the sense of ice-cold winds with it. Ceril grasped her wrists with both of her hands and then turned back to the window to stare over the gardens. “You may go Gila.” Gila curtsied as low as she possibly could letting too much time go by and then scurried out of the room. Ceril continued to look over the gardens.
*****
As she closed the door behind her, Gila rushed down the hall away from the House’s Matriarch. The woman could be scary, indeed, she had never seen her so intense before in her life. Though Ceril had not always been matriarch, she always did have the sense that one should be careful around her. At Fifteen summers old, Ceril had been chosen to be Matriarch by the previous Sword Mistress. The only reason she had been so was due to her nature at being ale to make sure everything went in its place and had a purpose.
The title of Matriarch was only for figurehead purposes, as she was Matriarch in only name. The true Matriarch of the house would always be the current Sword Mistress, just as the current head would be the Mangus Master. Ceril had always hoped that she would be the next true Sword Mistress; she had never given up on that hope, even when two successive ones had been chosen after her. She had tried even before she had gotten the position of Matriarch. After the first time, they had given her the title, and she had tried again.
The one who had replaced her the second time was now currently in the dungeons of the House and had lost all of her memory. Ceril refused to acknowledge that she had been chosen over by her. However, it was the first time that such an event had happened. That was what warranted Cerils sick glee. She was going to make the process as painful as she possibly could. Ceril was going to even enjoy every minute of it.
The thoughts made Gila shiver involuntarily.
She needed to find a new dress and begin informing the Potentials. In order to inform the potentials though, she would need a list of all their names. There were far too many. The ceremony would have to date back as far as the old days. Then, the House used to give it to whoever could conjure it up. Now though, the power passed itself from user to user and was instilled within them sometime during puberty. At least the potential to use it was intrinsic to anyone who was a part of the house.
Gila paused for a moment. Could it be possible that someone without Theosin blood coursing through their veins could have and control the power of Theos? It was not hers to answer and it was not hers to respond to. She continued down the hall in pursuit of her chores.
*****
She looked at her new dress. It was white and had a single rose embroidered on the baseline. The rose was done in expensive purple thread. She had received it from the girl named Gila, who had also given her water for bathing too. She had stayed around long enough to help her to dry and get into the dress as well. It swirled around her feet and she smiled in spite of what she had been through. Maybe it was a change from that strange and discerning woman named Ceril. Maybe she finally believed that she remembered and knew nothing.
Gila smiled. "I knew it would fit. It was made just for you." The girl looked up at Gila for a moment, and then smiled again. "I am glad that it was made for me. It is beautiful, though I know not how to repay you." A frown flickered over Gila's face and the corner of her mouth twitched when she smiled again. "There is no need. You will soon be having visitors. Ceril would not have it said that you were less than presentable."
The girl looked up and brushed her blonde hair out of the way and looked at Gila with a questioning look. Gila's face remained smiling. The girl let go of the dress with one hand and then took a step back. "Visitors?"
"There is no need to worry yourself, they shall not be coming until tomorrow at the earliest. However, now that you are presentable, I am here to take you to a better set of quarters than these," Gila motioned to the surrounding gray stonewalls. "If you would follow me, then please, by all means come along." The girl nodded her head once in a discreet fashion and then Gila knocked on the large door.
At that moment, a boy opened the door and Gila walked out. She paused in the doorway to turn around and the girl just stared at her. "Well don't just stand there, come along now! You have new quarters to be fitting out." At this statement, the girl just stood there until Gila grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her out of the cell.
"Come along now."
The girl allowed herself to be led up a flight of stairs and then down several hallways and through two large rooms until finally they reached a corridor that looked like it had not been used for a while. Gila pushed open the door and the room came into view. It was large and spacious and was a much better improvement over where she had been staying. In one part of the room, a fireplace had a cheery fire going on and across from it a large bed, which was canopied as well. A small wardrobe; which had been left open, was also along the wall and contained several other dresses, all with the same purple rose embroidered upon them.
The girl turned to Gila and looked at her questioningly. “We had your measurements taken and made you several other garments to wear. At that moment, Gila refused to look the girl in the eyes. She refused to because she knew that she might tell the girl the truth if that happened. The girl looked at her puzzled and then smiled and ran towards the wardrobe and looked at all of the dresses in there. She smiled at Gila and Gila smiled back in slight relief.
“Thank you.” Gila tried not to notice the girl’s soft comment.
*****
Ceril du’Theosin smiled slightly as she walked down the hall. Ahead of her, she saw a boy who was walking with a purposeful stride in the same direction she walked. She watched his back for some times and then strode up to talk to the black haired boy. As she tapped his shoulder, he spun around rather surprised and then grabbed his chest as if to fain an attack. “Madame, you frightened me for a moment there.” Ceril smiled again, this time a bit more predatory than usual.
“I had not meant for such Lithan. I had only meant to get your attention.” The boys green eyes sparkled as he smiled and said, “Well now you have it. What may I do for you today?”
“Walk with me and keep me company as I have some interesting news.” Lithan raised an eyebrow to her remark, but said nothing. He fell in step with the tall woman and looked at her with rapt attention.
“It seems Lithan that we might be getting a new Master of the Mangus soon.” Lithan’s eyes widened.
“What? What about…”
“Manion was discovered to be dead, at least that is the report that was sent to me here.”
Lithan’s wide-eyed stare continued on. “What about his Sword Mistress? Is she still alive as well?”
Ceril made a carefully vague smile and then spoke. “It was said that she was dead too, though no body could be found.” A look of sheer horror passed across Lithan’s face. It was said that he had loved her before the sword had chosen her. “However,” she continued, “we just found her. She was in horrid shape.” The look on Lithan’s face changed to one of concern. “Is she all right? What does this mean now?”
“It means that we will have to find a new Master and Mistress for the sword.” Lithan looked back to the end of the hall, which led to the large statue of Justice in the Center courtyard of the house near the main hall. “I’m still at a loss as to why. Should not the sword choose its own new Master?”
Ceril bit her lip slightly so as to convey a bit of disappointment as well as concern. Lithan was so easily swayed that he didn’t know that she was calculating it all. “What’s the matter? There’s something else you haven’t told me.” Ceril made a heaving sigh and looked away from him. They were almost to the courtyard when she said, “The sword has not moved on and she has lost her memory.” Lithan stopped dead in his tracks.
“Her memory is lost? You mean she can’t remember anything?” His voice was low and had lost its original luster.
“Yes, I am so sorry Lithan. I know… I know what she meant to you.” He was looking at the floor as she paused and turned to face him.
“Lithan?”
“Is she well?”
“Quite, we have her in the old Halls.”
“She’s not allowed to have her rooms back?”
“We didn’t want to alarm the rest of the house by announcing it and we wished to have the trials of who would get the sword in private.”
Lithan looked upwards and then spoke in a low tone. “Don’t hurt her Ceril. I don’t care how high up within this structure that you are. If you so much as hurt her, I will be the last person you want to see.” He straightened up and began to walk towards the statue. Sitting by it was a girl who looked up at him and smiled. “Hello Lithan.” She smiled brightly at the black haired boy.
“Hello Dinia. How are you today?” his smile had returned and Ceril stood amused at how quick his emotions were apt to change. He would be one worth watching as the whole process continued on. At that moment, Dinia caught her eyes and smiled rather sharply. Then Ceril noticed it wasn’t a smile, but more of a promise of something dangerous. For the first time in a long while, Ceril shuddered, but not for the chill on the air. The smile, though cold in of itself, made her feel uneasy.
Ceril returned the smile and then continued upon her way. She would have to talk to Gila about that girl, because she didn’t remember at that moment for the life of her, where she had come from.
*****
Gila bit her lip as she tried to explain to Mikel what she meant. “Please just listen to me. You are not allowed to tell anyone.” The curly brown haired boy shook his head, ringlets shaking on their own along with his head. “Will they not find out by the time we are done and the sword chooses a new master? People will get concerned. That and how can people not know. This is House Theosin. People know everything by the end of the day.”
Gila suppressed a groan. She had been arguing with him for the past hour at least. Mikel thought of everything that could possibly go wrong. That was the reason she had decided to tell him first of the situation as Ceril had asked her to do. This was supposed to be simple, but Mikel never made anything simple. “Mikel, please. If no one tells we will be able to keep the whole transference under wraps. No one will know until afterwards.”
He crossed his slender arms on his chest. “Then when the new Sword Mistress is chosen, what will you do then?” Gila fought the urge to strangle him at that moment. Her hands tightened at her sides.
“Please don’t make this any harder than it already is Mikel. Don’t make me ask Ceril to help you keep your silence.” She hated to say such things and she closed her eyes immediately, because she knew the horrified look that would cross his face and that he would be silenced immediately. It was not her idea to intimidate in Ceril’s name, but so help her if she had to…
“All right then. I will not tell anyone else. You have my word Gila. Now please leave me alone. He slowly turned away from her and pointed to the door of his chambers. Gila sighed and opened her eyes. He was not looking at her. She stood up from the chair she had been sitting in and crossed to the door. “I’m sorry that it has to come down to this.”
“Not as sorry as I am that is had to be like this at all.” Gila winced at what he said knowing that it was true. She opened the door and stepped into the hall quietly closing it behind her. It made a soft thunk before she sighed out loud. She pressed her head to the cool stone of the walls next to the door and closed her eyes, trying to soak up some of the coldness as she was entirely too hot and warm. At one time she had loved Mikel. Now she could not love anyone. Mikel knew what Ceril was like, knew what drove Ceril to do the things she did, but he would never forgive Ceril for forcing her to choose as she had.
Gila shook her head as old memories threatened to cause tears. She stood up and took several deep breaths, passing her hands across her dress to smooth it out. She began to walk towards the next hall to talk with another one of the men, Kipsen. After him, she would go to check on the girl. Her duty now was jailer to the girl, as well as torturer due to what it was that Ceril had planned. She shook her head and then clasped her hands together as she continued down along the corridor. She turned to the left at the junction of the hall and continued on towards the practice grounds. At this time of day, it was almost always s certain that Kipsen would be there.
As she walked down a flight of stairs, she thought about how to word the request to him. How would she get him to keep silent? She most certainly could not threaten him by means of Ceril like she had done to Mikel. She knew that he liked one thing though, and that was a woman, or in some cases lots of women. He was known to be one of the most charming men ever to grace Theosin halls. He was the type of man Gila’s mother had warned her about.
She shuddered at the thought of having him paw her like a common wench or worse, a whore. She had to think of something that would keep his silence. As she reached the bottom of the long flight of stairs, she exited onto a rather large field that had been fenced in some areas and left free in others. There was even a track to train upon horses and the stables were actually quite close as well.
In one section of the field, there was a gathering of quite a few young men. They were all surrounding one of the practice circles and in the center of it; two men were fighting. Gila took a deep breath and then walked towards the practice field and began to push her way through the small crowd. As she did, she was finally allowed close enough to be directly against the wooden railing that marked the boundaries and saw in the center, with his shirt off and skin glistening with the sheen of sweat and tough swordplay, Kipsen.
Gila groaned inwardly and then clasped her hands together to watch the fight. Kipsen thrust his sword at his opponent, a think lanky dark-haired youth. The boy spun on a pivot and dodged the blow bringing his sword up with a resounding clang. Kipsen shrugged it off as eh boy tried to then swing his sword full circle and make Kipsen loose his own sword. Kipsen was faster though, as he parried, he pivoted and turned completely around so that his sword wound up on the other side of the boy and the boy brought his sword straight up to block it.
Kipsen dipped the tip of his sword underneath the youths hands holding the sword and then drew back to jab directly at the boy’s stomach. The boy twisted at the last possible moment and dropped the full brunt of his sword on Kipsen’s blade. The youths spun his blade in his hands and then ducked down towards the ground and rolled behind Kipsen and then brought his sword up to give him a blow to the side. Kipsen pivoted, but a little too late as the blade came down and his own sword, stuck up to parry was swung out of the way.
Kipsen through his hands up as the youth lightly tapped his shoulders. “I yield Tarth, I yield.” A loud cheering erupted from the other boys as they saw this. The boy, Tarth, nodded solemnly and then smiled. At this the cheers erupted higher and Gila had to push in order to prevent from being pushed into the ring. As the boys swarmed over the railings to congratulate Tarth, Kipsen looked up and saw Gila. He flashed a toothy smile and Gila almost blushed. She nodded her head and then stepped out of range of the ring. Kipsen nodded as well as if he understood and then walked to get his sword.
A few moments later, he had walked out of the ring, holding his sword, and still no sign of his shirt. Gila swallowed hard. He was chiseled and muscled like a god. His body was in perfect shape and Gila could not help but follow the trail of his muscles as well as the thin line of dark jet-black hair that went down his stomach from his naval to his pants. She suddenly caught herself and looked up into his green eyes, which were dancing with amusement. She felt her face go red.
He laughed lightly and then ran his left hand through his hair to get it out of his face. “Finally coming to see me Gila?” his voice had a hint of playfulness to it. Her face began to burn even more. “That is not what I am here for Kipsen.” The man shrugged and she shook her head.
“Is there someplace private we could talk?”
Kipsen pointed back to the boys. “They won’t bother us. With my reputation, then will probably think that you will be coming to my room tonight Gila.” Gila frowned, but her face was still a burning scarlet.
“These matters are important Kipsen, we cannot afford to play these trivialities as such.”
Kipsen’s mood instantly changed. “What is it? Has something happened? Is everything all right?”
“You could say that.”
“Gila, please tell me now.”
Gila looked into his eyes. “I cannot tell you until you first swear not to tell anyone what you hear from me. Orders of Matriarch Ceril du’Theosin.”
Kipsen snorted. “I won’t do anything that windbag tells me to do, I’ll do it in hopes of my getting my hands on you though.” Gila froze and then began to blush again. Kipsen laughed out loud. Gila tugged at her braid for a moment and then said, “Just say yes or now. If you say no then I can’t tell you.” She didn’t dare look at him. She heard his laughter go quiet once more and heard him say, “You are serious aren’t you?”
“Deathly.”
He raised a hand in the air, smiling and tilting his head to one side. “Then I swear not to tell anyone what it is you are about to tell me.”
Gila nodded her head once and then said, “Good. Here it is in short. Manion our Current Mangus Master is dead. Whoever attacked him and his Mistress, left his mistress alive and without her memory. She can’t remember a damn thing, not even her own name. Ceril wants a new Mangus Master chosen immediately and it to be done quietly.”
Kipsen cursed under his breath. “You are kidding right?”
Gila shook her head no.
“You are then going to have to explain this to me in quarters. I see what you mean by a place to talk.” Gila rolled her eyes.
|
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| Aubade |
[15 Sep 2003|10:31pm] |
| [ |
mood |
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 cheerful |
] |
He stood at the top of the hill, waiting silently. The darkness which had signaled the night was slowly being encroached upon by the now breaking dawn. He opened his lips and through them whistled a single beginning note. It cracked through the silence as even the birds were not singing the heralding of the morning. He smiled and then closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Then, he began to sing quietly. His words were strange, different, but they slowly found purchase upon the air:
“How long have we waited,
To see the breaking dawn?
How long has it been since
The gentle light touched the earth?
Gently the sun also rises,
Spreading warmth to the land.
Slowly the dawn breaks
Orange red across the land.
As he sings, so does the dawn do so, oranges and reds pour over the horizon line, causing a shimmering affect upon the clouds there. The clouds yawn to accommodate the now rising sun. His voice picks up in speed only a little and he continues to sing:
“Only you have broken the silence,
As the morning comes to life,
The land all wake up to you,
Feeling all the glorious light,
I sing to my star of Morning!
I sing as it rises in the east!
Bid farewell to the Star that rules the night
And welcome the new morning.
The birds begin to wake and the flowers begin to open their buds and face towards the now rising sun in the east. The song of different birds begins to fill the air. Soon a cacophony of song reaches its crescendo as he continues to sing. This time though, he vocalizes as the sun rises further into the sky, bringing now a myriad of yellows into the sky and the faintest tinges of blue to rise as well. The sky blooms like a rose to the day; the petals, the clouds in the sky, the bud of the flower the very sun itself. His song soon continues minutes later:
“Thank you lords of the sky,
Thank you to the ladies of the dawn,
Another morning breaks in the sky
Because of your blessings upon us.
The rays reach down to us
Like fingers to caress our faces
To risen us from our slumber
And we welcome you into our lives
As well as into our homes
To welcome and waken our lives.
The boy continues in his vocalizes, now, each getting more and more powerful. The birds singing are singing almost the same tune he is as they begin to commingle their voices. His voice is powerful and surly someone is smiling upon him as the air begins to get warmer. The sky is now awash with color, the trees around him are greener than they usually are, and the flowers beneath him are open and turned towards the sun, feeling each and every gentle ray that shines down upon them. A gentle breeze flows through the small glade near where he sings.
“Thank you for this new day we see,
Thank you for the new things we shall experience.
We praise the dawn as we praise the day.
Lords and Ladies of the Dawn and Sky we praise thee
Sing do I of thee,
Sing I shall of thee,
Sing through all my days
Only your praise.
His vocalizes continue into the next refrain:
</i>“Blessed is this day that we have
The Dawn and Day which greets us.</i>
His tone changes then as he continues to sing, it takes up a more lyrical tone and no longer wishes to appease:
I laugh as you ride across the sky
Those cerulean skies of blue
Nothing hides itself from you.
For you blaze and you shine for us.
You greet us each morn as we greet you,
With smiling and bright faces.
You fill our days with bliss,
When we see your laughing eyes
We cannot help but to smile at you.
Obsidians golden are,
Washed in the sunbeams of purest joy.
Fill our lives dear sun,
With light and love this day,
Let your beams shine upon us all
As we show our live for this world.
The boy smiles at the last words and then clasps his hands together and finishes his vocalizes. At this, the sun has fully risen into the sky. He has been singing and vocalizing and feels a sense of calm about him. He smiles and then walks down the hill back to his home.
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| Weapon's Voice Part 1 |
[15 Sep 2003|04:48pm] |
This story takes place in the land of Chorde, but before the events of the story 'A Tapestry of Chorde'. I hope you enjoy the story of the Weapon and his Voice. This story however, like much in the world of Chorde is a bit controversial, please read with an open mind.
~Yoakenomyoujou
PART 1
“A little de’curia for what ails ya?” The voice was sickly sweet with a tinge of actuality in it. Meloria turned around and looked at the little thin blond girl straight in the eyes and said, “Is it pure?” The girl gave a tight-lipped glare and said, “Well ‘a course t’is! Ya don’t think I would actually try to poison my customers do ya?”
“I don’t know what you do to your customers…”
“If ya don’t want none, then just say so ya crazy…” The girl began to walk away mumbling to herself.
“Fine, let me try some of what you have.” Meloria moved her own brown hair behind her ears as the girl produced a small paper package for her to look at. The girl motioned for silence as she quietly pulled out a small tray of silver from one of her pockets. Meloria looked at it oddly, wondering where she had been able to obtain such a thing looking at how she was more peasant than refined of a class of merchants or other such. She finally decided that it was due to the way she made her money.
The girl delicately placed the try in front of Meloria and then carefully poured a small amount from the paper packet onto the tray. White crystals ground into fine powder collected into a small heap upon the tray as Meloria watched. As the girl finished Meloria smiled.
She stuck out her pinky and at the same then looked to the girl in askance. The girl smiled and nodded and Meloria stuck her finger into the white powder. As she pulled it out, she stuck it into her mouth and the powder that was on her finger was gone in an instant. As she tasted it, a look of contentment flashed across her face and she nodded in the small, drug induced joy.
“How much for a couple of drams?”
“Not very much for ya ma’am, only a few silvers…”
Meloria thought about it. IT wasn’t everyday that one came across de’curia as pure as this; although where the girl had gotten it, she didn’t know. That was always the problem with de’curia; you always had to know where it was coming from. It you didn’t then it could always prove to be a problem. It was a wonderful drug, just recently discovered, but it was horrible once you were addicted. If you were addicted, then you would do anything for just a small bit of de’curia.
She didn’t intend to get addicted.
If she ever got addicted, then it would be the end of her as well as the things that she did in secret. Meloria nodded and then said, “How much for a full gram?” The girl smiled a rather large and winning smile. “A gold ma’am. Once ya try this, ya never go back. It’s a proven fact…” The girl had an indecent gleam in here yes, and it was that very statement that Meloria was concerned about.
“Well…” Meloria turned to the girl once more and looked at her. The gleam that was in the girl’s eyes was still there, the same gleam she didn’t trust. “Thank you, but not today as I am on more pressing business. Perhaps another time I shall buy some.”
The girl gave her a slight sneer, and then turned on her way. Meloria carefully adjusted her robes and made sure that none of her black robes were showing though her brown ones. She turned around to look at the man who was singing in the corner. The poor man’s voice was absolutely atrocious, and with what little power she had to see them, she could see that his notes were a broken-down copper. She shuddered to think of what would happen if he ever tried to enter Sylva College.
She looked over at the door, hoping for her friend to reach there, but he was not there yet. That was when she noticed him, the man sitting in the corner of the room. He had covered his face within the folds of his cowl and his thin gaunt frame was twisted slightly within the folds of the cloak which draped heavily on him like a tapestry that had no meaning. A tankard of ale sat in front of him; or what appeared to be ale. The window next to him showed the damp weather outside. The rain pounded against the window, and even though the lightning occasionally illuminated his dark figure, no one seemed to notice that he was there.
Meloria sniffed at him and then thought nothing of it as she continued to wait. She thought she saw a serving wench move through the crowd and pass by him, but it seemed that even she did not know that he was there. Meloria furrowed her brow at this. The man in the cloak was something else that even the serving wench did not stop to talk to him. Meoria shrugged inwardly and then continued on with waiting for the other person to come. She absentmindedly patted the case underneath her feet and began to become exasperated. Where was Malien?
As the man in the corner stopped singing, she suddenly thought that she heard something else in the air, floating along the light currents of other peoples conversations. It was very low, so low that she had to strain to hear exactly what it was. As she listened, she realized that it was coming from the direction of the strange cloaked man. She listened a moment more and then realized that the man was singing. Then she realized what it was that eh was singing; a Rune of Concealment.
He was trying to hide.
Her eyes narrowed as she looked at him harder. She could not make out the color of his notes, so there was no telling what exactly he was. She sat back in her chair and closed her eyes for a moment, clearing her mind. She then opened them and began to sing under her own breath. She focused the power of her song directly at him. As she sang, the obscuring dark cloak became lighter very slowly, showing the cloak to be not as thick as she thought it was. The vision obscuring spell he was singing was slowly beginning to break.
She refocused her chanting once more, even lower than she already had been singing and sang a small spell to hide her notes. Any who had been trained in the Song would notice them, so she immediately hid them as a matter of security to herself. Whoever was in the cloak however had not been versed such. She started again, this time no louder than before, and slowly the man began to focus in her minds eye. A gust of cold wind interrupted her halfway through though. Her throat constricted almost at once very slightly and she faltered and lost the song she was singing. Furious she turned to the door to see who had interrupted her rune rather purposefully.
For a moment, she had thought it was the idiot singer in the corner and she was ready to give him a piece of her mind. However, she stopped in mid turn and then quickly averted her eyes and her head dropped down. It was an Amberite. He was rather old and dressed in a long loose fitting robe of white. A beard protruded from his chin, long and thin and dark red, much like the long hair on his head. Though he was old, he looked quite spry for his age. His eyes were searching for something, but for what, she did not know.
Those damn meddling Ambers had no idea that they were so annoying either. The fact that they existed at all was odd. They all stood for the Harmony that was inherent within the balance and believed that they were the only ones good enough to wield the power. Their motto: If you didn’t beat your brains out to figure something out, then you probably never would.
She looked over in the corner and noticed that the cloaked person who had been sitting there was no longer there. The subtle rhythm of the person’s song was gone as well. She looked around, wondering where the figure went. The tavern door crashed open the rest of the way letting the chill breeze coming in from the drizzle making her shiver. A small group of Amberites were in the doorway now. One of them; who was dressed in the traditional white yet tight-fitting robe of an Amber, pointed his finger into the tavern and spoke rather loudly.
“Find him damn you! Don’t let him get away.”
She would have thought that he was the leader except that the old man who had walked in first nodded his head for approval. As they spread out, Meloria cursed under her breath. If she tried to sing, they would detect it. She was trapped. What a horrid way to be found out. Onyxians were still not in the good graces of the Ambers. Technically, this was Amber lands. An Onyx found on it could be in a lot of trouble.
Suddenly there was a crash emanating from the kitchen and a scream of, “There!” All the other Amberites ran toward the kitchen almost immediately. The first man in white beard paused as the others tried to catch who it was they were after. He looked around the room searching for whatever it was that he had been looking for originally and then moved out the door he had come in.
When all of them were gone and the voices of them had died down, Meloria let out the breath that she had been holding. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a boy dart down the corridor towards the inn and the stables, which were located on the complete other side of the building from the exit of the tavern. She slowly got up from where she had been sitting so as not to catch attention to herself, and waked that way. Not that it would really matter at this moment. She picked up the small case and held it beside her and then hid it within the folds of her robe. She had been meaning to deliver this package that night, but it seemed unlikely that it would be delivered tonight.
Now that there were Amberites everywhere, there would not be another Onyxian in sight for several miles. Malien, who she was supposed to meet, had the tendency to turn rabbit at the mere mention of Ambers. He did not like them at all.
As she looked out towards the stables, she noticed that the door was wide open. Hurrying across the yard, she looked in and saw that one of the stalls was open and the horse and tack were gone. In the back of her mind, she made a decision to follow the boy. Albeit, with Ambers on his tail, he could use some help. Then again, with her tracking him, he would never get very far. The rain outside was growing steadily worse. At this rate, if the cloaked figure was not careful about where they rode, they could get washed away in a flood.
The skies were turning even darker than they already and Meloria knew that the poor fugitive needed her help. She didn’t know what it was, but she knew that they were in more trouble than it seemed. However, a small corner of her mind told her to run and get away from the Amberites. If they found her then it would be a pain to try to get away from them. As she quickly saddled her mount, Rills, she thought about what to do with the small package that she was carrying. When she finished, she placed the case in the corner of the stall and then sang a few notes. The light shimmered around it and the case appeared to vanish.
A simple illusion.
Satisfied, she quickly led Rills out of the stall and closed the door behind her and then sang a sharp b-flat as best as she could. The door slammed shut, stuck in place. No one would get into that stall now unless she released the spell.
However, people and not spells were what she had on her mind at the moment. She led the chestnut out of the stable and then climbed up into the saddle. As she kneed him slightly in the ribs to get him going, she saw a faint flutter of a white robe. She didn’t bother to turn around to see where the voices were coming from this time. AS she listened to the voice she was shocked.
“There he goes! Look! After him; hurry!”
As she urged Rills on faster, she realized that they had mistaken her for the person that they were looking for. She cursed silently under her breath and continued to urge Rills onwards. Behind her, she heard curses as men mounted horses and began pursuit of her. The rain battered down against the ground making it muddy and in some places dangerous to tread on. As it churned under Rill’s galloping feet, she hazarded a look behind her and saw the white fluttering robes chasing her down.
She reached into her sleeve where she had a hidden pocket and took out a small flute. She let go of the reigns and trilled a few notes on it to make sure that it was all right. The notes came out silver; she hadn’t been trying. Rills started to slow down, so she tapped her knees into his flanks and he began to speed up once more. She thought about it once more and then realized that she wouldn’t be able to play in the rain like this. There was no way to play the flute and keep up the speed that Rills was traveling.
She tucked the flute away back into the secret pocket so that it would not get too wet. After thinking for a moment, she realized that she would have to use a different form of her magic if she wanted to get away. There was no way around it. If she tried to slow down in order to play the flute, she would not be able keep up the pace she had now and she would be caught. She cursed her luck and tried to think about using magic again.
Meloria could hear the horses of the Amberites behind her, the pounding of the hooves being only second to that of the rain. The mud churned beneath Rill’s feet and she narrowly avoided a hole that was in the middle of the road that looked like an entirely too large puddle. Several moments after she passed it, she heard shouts as one man fell in with his horse. She smiled, but a flash of lightning temporarily blinded her. When her vision returned, obscured as it was due to the rain, she cleared her throat for what she was about to do. In her low alto voice, she sang the spell on her mind sotto voce, decrescendo:
By the blood of the Lady and Lord,
In the veins in my wrists,
Listen to this simple Chord
Hide me in the cloudy mists”
Her voice choked off almost instantly as she felt the power of the compulsion in the tone of the spell. Being trained by bards for that short time did pay off. She thought of her bard teacher for only a few seconds and then continued to ride on. The rain seemed to condense and she knew that she was hidden from sight. However, she knew she shouldn’t have used the power, now they would think they were chasing a bard. As she traveled on through the mist she sighed and shook her head. She hoped that the stranger would be alright wherever they were.
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| A Simple Upadate |
[10 Sep 2003|04:14pm] |
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mood |
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 busy |
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Pardon for the recent lag in the Arcivus. Kurojusu has recetly pointed out an infestation inside some of the older scrolls and we were therefore reluctant to bring them within the shelves. however, we have solved that by rescripting the Librams as carefully as possible and we are now once again ready to begin filling up the Arcivus with teh lore we have collected. We have found some ovlder tomes which were also languishing within the ruins of teh previous Arcivus. The Tales of the Mangus Master Talon are currently under a re-writing phase, so do not be alarmed. The orriginal tales are being restored by our Historians and they are taking a rather grand interest in them. They beleive that we have come across a rather grandios find.
As for me, I have been traveling a bit more and am glad to say that I have found yet another enigmatic Story from the Lands of Chorde. The New Story "Weapon's Voice" Takes place earlier than the currently running one "A Tapestry of Chorde". Albiet, we are having trouble translating it and therefore I appologise if that one seems to be slow.
Also a Fire occured within the old vaults and we have lost a few stories, mainly, about half of the Tale of Death. I am sad to say that untill new manuscripts come from the curernt home Vaults, the tale is on moritorium.
As for teh other tales, "Oracle" will still be continuing, the reason for the stop was because we had beleived that we had fouind a map of the climes upon that world and it was safe to say that it needed a bit of researching for accuracy. Needless to say, The tale shall continue and the map will soon be up. As for Sword and Bard, I am personaly seeing to it that it is placed upon the shelves no later than next fortnite from tonight.
I hope you will continue to visit. There is always more to see here.
On a side note, we have just received word that the Tale "Shadow Symphony" was indeed not in the original fire and that the manuscripts and scrolls that it rested upon were indeed saved. It is being transcripted now and shall soon be upon the shelves of the Arcivus.
Once again, if you have any questions, please feel free to leave a note with Kurojusu.
~ Yoakenomyoujou
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| A Tale for Ostara |
[22 Aug 2003|12:05pm] |
this is for Ostara of 2003.
~Yoakenomyoujou
I have made a tale for this day and it involves Persephone. I hope that you like it:
Notes:
Kore is another name for Persephone
Memnosyne is the River of forgetfulness and Lethe is the river of Memories. Styx is the river that surrounds Tartarus, the Underworld.
“Kore Darling, it’s time to go back. Time to go back to your mother.” The words came to her as she was lying upon her chase, lounging in the dark blue light that seemed to permeate the entire Underworld. She slowly pulled herself up; she was dressed in her black dress. She loved the color black. It made her skin seem to glow with a strange iridescence that made her all the more beautiful in the dark caverns of the life after.
Mind, it was not the Elysian Fields, but it too had a sense of happiness here. She looked to the man who had been her husband for the past six months. He stood there, also dressed in black, but in the light, his toga took on a more bluish tint that her dress did. Her dark painted lips looked much akin to a corpse as she stood up and kissed him full upon his own lips.
He was no different that any of the other gods. He was simply always in the wrong light. The absence of light made him appear all the more beautiful. He was much like his brother, Zeus; it was just that at night, he looked more beautiful. His fine toned musculature, his dark jet hair, and his sensuous lips, which had shone her more pleasures than she had known to exist. He too took great care in his appearance and also took great care that his queen would look good beside him as well. She was rather well taken care of down here in Hades dark world.
“It is time for me to leave your side already? Time seems to have flown quicker this time. I would not believe it if anyone but you came and had told me.” The remark brought a smile to his lips, but he did not say anything else. She slowly moved out of his arms and began to change her clothes for her trip back up to the surface. As she shed her dress in front of him, he remained to watch her. She slowly turned around and beckoned him towards the bed they shared for one last time before she had to leave.
* * *
As they lay entwined upon the sheets, afterwards, she remembered the event that had made her the bride to this man. He had come to the surface and in a fit of lust, kidnapped her. She had after all, been very pretty. He had then taken her to the underworld and kept her there. She had cried uncontrollably at first. She was inconsolable. He had tired every means he could to maker her happy. He had gotten her dresses, playthings, souls to talk to, he even tried to bribe her with food, but nothing worked.
Upon the Surface, her mother had gone sick with grief. She refused to do any of her duties, and the mortals upon the land had sent an up cry to Zeus. He had called her mother in and asked her the source of her grief. Without her daughter, none would be happy. They soon discovered that it was Hades who had taken the girl and had taken her across the river Styx and past the flowing river of Memnosyne and Fountain of Lethe. With all haste, Zeus and her mother took his chariot into the Underground that was Hades grand domain.
However, she had been there for some time, seeing as time in Hades seemed to go on forever and she was finally becoming hungry. It had been nine days that she had lain in the caverns of the mysterious king. While there, she had taken up with the old goddess, Heckate and she had been as polite as she could, not realizing at the time that Kore had not been brought down of her own free will. Heckate was more than happy that her lord Hades had found a bride in the most beautiful of girls.
Meanwhile, upon Olympus, Aphrodite and her herald Eros were shocked and amazed at the events that had happened over the past nine days. It had been a bet that Eros’ arrows were not as powerful as he had once thought them to be, and Eros was still smarting from his most previous clandestine relationships. It had not gone well for him and he was calling himself a fool to have pricked himself with his own arrows.
Aphrodite spoke to him and said that even though he had indeed been pricked, the Gods could not be affected. Lo and Behold, it was a wonder when Hades himself was seen coming out of the Underworld to see if the fight between Zeus and the Titans had damaged his underground kingdom. Aphrodite had pointed to him and told Eros that Hades had a heart of ice and nothing could melt it. Even Hera could love more than Hades was capable of.
Eros in a fit of rage at Aphrodite’s accusation had strung his bow, chosen the sharpest of arrows and hit Hades directly. His gaze suddenly swung as he tried to see who had shot him and had alighted on her. At that moment had been when Aphrodite and Eros had scattered. They were upon Olympus while her mother searched for her. It was never clear to them who had told that Hades had the girl, but they had never told of their part in it.
On her part, it was not all that difficult to figure out whom it had been that had caused it.
She had been stuck in Tartarus for nine days when finally, in a walk through a garden, she lost Heckate. As she wandered around, she found herself in a pomegranate orchard, and finding the fruit so deliciously ripe, she could not help but partake of seven seeds from it. However, when she got to the sixth seed, she heard Heckate and dropped the pomegranate. The seventh seed, clutched tightly in her hand, was never eaten.
The Pomegranate fell into a dark hole in the tree and Heckate rushed the girl back to the palace. There had been news. Already, it had been discovered that she had been kidnapped, and that her mother was making threats against the gods and all humanity. It was not that she did not care, it was just that she had grown tired of her mother’s over protectiveness.
They reached the palace and already, Hades and Hermes were to be seen and Hermes had a chariot waiting for her to be taken back to the surface. Unfortunately, at that moment, one of Hades’ gardeners came up and showed the pomegranate. He had found it while tending the orchards and it had seven seeds missing. In this, Hades took great delight, for anyone who ate seven seeds had to stay in the Underworld forever. It was then however, that Hermes had to go. He could not take her for it was by pact that this was declared. At that moment a missive from Zeus came and all were summoned to come to Olympus to decide the fate of the rest of the world.
While she had been missing, her mother had stopped tending to the earth that was hers to take care of. A bitter wind had ripped through the world at that time and nothing was growing any longer. A trial was set up to determine her fate and if had not been for the fact that she still held the Seventh seed; she would have had to remain in the Underworld for the rest of her life. Zeus forced her Mother and Hades into an agreement and it was settled that for each seed that she had eaten, she would stay a month in the underworld.
However, her mother spoke to the other gods that for half that time, naught would grow upon the earth and that for the other half, she would prepare to live in her temple for those three moths when she would turn her back upon the world. It was agreed upon and She had been released into Hades care for the allotted time. Afterwards, she would then go back to her mother and live with her for the remaining six months.
Now however, as she thought again upon those memories, she realized how odd it was. She had now changed her garments and dark makeup, which she wore while she was Queen, for the more festive colors that her mother liked. She turned to her love and kissed him once more as he lay upon the bed.
“I shall see you after I am done with my mother and I shall then come back to your arms and be your faithful lover.”
He nodded once more and then spoke to her in a sensuous voice. “Do make sure you visit Heckate before you leave.” She simply nodded in her understanding of the matter. “I shall wait for you to return to me my Queen.” She smiled at him and then said, “I shall return to you when I am done with my mother, but be sure to send the messenger.”
With that, she left his apartments and went to that of Heckates. Once there, the old woman of mysteries, whom Kore had blessed with all the knowledge of women in the night, guided her to the gates. She held out a cup and spoke. “You shall not remember as you were until it is time for you to return. We will send a messenger to you, so you need not worry. It will be as we always do. ” With that, She pressed the cup into Kore’s hands and she drank deeply.
The cup had been filled with the waters of Memnesyne, and at that moment, Kore passed out. She was then placed upon Chiron’s boat to travel across the river with Heckate. Once upon the other side, Heckate had a helper take her up to the surface and place her as the door to her mother’s temple. As the spirit vanished back to his home below the earth, her mother stepped out of her temple and rejoiced. Demeter wept with tears of joy and brought her daughter inside her temple.
As soon as she awoke, Demeter cried out, “Persephone, I am so glad you are awake, we have much to do.” The girl smiled and spoke to her mother. “Mother, I had the strangest dream…” Demeter smiled at the reality of things and spoke to her daughter. “I know, I know.”
I hoped you liked this tale and a Merry Ostara to all of you.
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| Dominos of Fate Part 2: Unfulfilled Destiny |
[22 Aug 2003|11:53am] |
The halls of Amergin castle were very big in Torc's opinion. They were made of gray stone. A very hard substance these days, especially since all of the wooden structures could nowhere compare to this in the North. He had come from the North, where all had been made of timber. Now he was in the South where all the main castles were made of stone. If the South were to attack the North, the North would never survive against the South's onslaught.
That was why he was here though. He was to be the "peace offering" between the North and the South, a way to keep the South out of the North. Torc didn't like it one bit, but knew that he had to go. After all, it wasn't the boy's maid that his father caught him with, kissing. Torc was disgusted with himself. How could he do such a thing? He didn't want to be there more than anyone else was. He knew that it was a way to get him out of his father's site. After all, his father did have more sons; sons that were older, but it had been the youngest to disgrace him.
It sickened him.
It sickened him down to his very core.
As Torc walked through the halls, he began to hear fighting, the sounds of swords striking one another; practice swords though. He pulled his hand away form the hilt of his own sword. As he passed the place where the sounds were coming from, he saw a large octangular room. He paused for a moment if only to look and saw a boy and a girl sparring.
This was almost unheard of in the North. Were the people in the South also out of their minds, letting men and women practice together? Torc slowly gritted his teeth and then saw the boy for a second time. He was beautiful. Long raven black hair fluttered slightly every time he struck at the girl. He had beautiful green eyes too. Torc swallowed, as his throat became suddenly dry.
This was not supposed to happen. Not to him. However, that was the first reason his father had chosen him to go south and not one of his older, more deserving brothers. It was because of his attraction not only to that of the opposite sex, but also to the same. His father, in concern for Torc's welfare, as well as his young impressionable brothers, thought it wise to let Torc go. The first reason was so that Torc would not be cornered by a man and also so that his 'filthy preference' as his father had called it, would not rub off on his younger brothers. Torc rolled his eyes as the aide that was with him chided him for making the King wait.
When he entered the main audience chamber, he did not much pay attention to the king; instead, he paid attention to the raven black-haired spectacle that stood next to the throne. The boy from the eight-sided room was there. Torc's heart began to beat faster. He did not notice much else, but managed to pay attention to the king long enough to know that his name was Kallan. And he was the crown prince. That was enough to make Torc's heart flutter.
After the audience, Torc walked over to Kallan and noticed that he was just a little taller than the prince was. "I was wondering," began Torc, his eyes not looking directly into the prince's. "Would you mind sparing with me later?" The reply made Torc's head jerk up. "Sure." Torc smiled and said, "Do you have a specific place? You know, where you spar?" The prince shook his head and said, "No." Torc was slightly disappointed at this, but he said, "Then I'll see you later."
Torc knew instantly that there was something special about the octangular room, but wished to say nothing. He walked off and then used the rest of the day to look around. Three times he saw the girl in the Twin spire at Amergin castle. He found that her name was Allesia. Soon, he also found out that she was not meant to be in one side of the castle and that only he and the prince could stay on that side. The Sun Tower became his refuge from then on.
While he stayed near the prince, he often heard the Prince's door open in the night and then in the early morning open again. This was the first time that Torc knew that Kallan was sneaking out somewhere, and that it involved the girl some how. He vowed to find out what it was. He began to plot how to do it in his spare time. He could not follow the prince at night; no he was far too nimble for that, so he would begin spying on the two.
He began to watch the Octagon room and then one day, he heard it. He heard what it was they were doing.
"Do you stargaze?" Kallan asked, his melodic voice was music to Torc's ears.
"Yes, I do..." Allesia replied.
"Do you stargaze from the tower?" The prince had stopped now, so that his question could be addressed. Allesia smiled.
"No, The skies are dark from my tower. Do you stargaze Prince?"
"Yes I do."
"From the Sun Tower?"
"No, the skies are dark from my tower too."
"Then, my prince, shall we meet in the courtyard and see if the stars are still dark?"
Kallan nodded and Torc knew that he had him. Torc waited outside the door. As Allesia left, Kallan stayed behind. Tork slowly slipped into the room and pretended to be surprised at the prince. His shirt was off and he was sweating profusely. "My goodness Prince, what place is this?" Torc saw Kallan's head jerk up. "When did you get here?" The voice was tense in Torc's opinion, but he decided to go against what he actually saw. "Well, I saw the door open and then I entered. I saw a really pretty room and you."
Tork could swear that he heard Kallan let go of a breath. He waited for the prince to answer. "Well Torc, this is a place where I come to practice alone." Torc saw the lie, but said nothing about it. "Do you mind if I practice with you now?" Torc asked. The prince smiled and then sighed. "Sure, why not, I could use the practice." They both practiced well into the day, fighting each other the entire time. Torc could not help but stare at Kallan's body the entire time though. He found that he could not take his eyes off of the prince. It was strange to him, but he liked it.
Towards the end, Kallan's guard was down and Torc had the upper hand. He reached out and grabbed Kallan's wrist. Kallen faltered and then stopped in mid swing. "Torc," he said, "That's my wrist. Could you please let me go?" For a minute, Torc did nothing. Kallan tried to wrest his wrist away, but it didn't work. Panic hit his voice as Torc stood there, staring into his green eyes. Worry also struck those eyes as Kallan let his sword drop to the ground. "Please Torc! Let me go!" Kallen tried to get his hand out of Torc's grip with his other free hand. Suddenly, Torc saw the pain in the prince's eyes.
"No," he replied in horror. He let go of the prince's hand and then ran out of the room.
* * * * *
The next day, Torc was walking down the stairs to the main hall when he saw Kallan. He had just recently bumped shoulders with Allesia. He wanted to know what his prince saw in the girl, but hated her for taking the better half of Kallan's affections. Both saw the other and froze in their tracks. Torc rushed down the stairs, as Kallan turned and was about to leave. He reached out and grabbed Kallen by the hand.
"Wait!" he cried out. Kallen turned back around and looked at Torc with his green eyes. Fear was not there, but worry was, flashing in and out of his eyes. Torc tried to ignore it. "I'm sorry for what I did in the Octagon Room." He quickly let go of the prince's wrist. "I also have to tell you that I am... I am... well..."
"What is it Torc?" said Kallan, his voice twisting the very being in Torc's heart.
"I think that I am beginning to... to... to feel... for you." Kallen gasped slightly. "What do you mean?" he said. "I arouse an interest in you? Is that it?"
"No that's not quite it... it's just that..." Torc began to stammer.
"You want me to become your," Kallan choked for a minute and then said, "...your love-..." Torc cut him off almost instantly. "No that's not what I mean... I mean... just understand!" Kallen looked at him funny and then said, "But I don't understand what it is that I do to you."
"That's just it!" said Torc. "You know what you do though!" Torc cried out at him. Kallan looked slightly hurt.
"But how am I supposed to know about that? I didn't know! I swear!"
"I have told you though!" Now Torc was slightly upset. His eyes had furrowed in pain.
"What more can I do to tell you, to show you?" Kallan looked away, slightly ashamed, looking at the ground. Torc looked to the ground too. He then put a hand out to Kallan and placed it on his shoulder. "Please?" Torc said pleadingly. Kallan tensed for a minute then sighed. He slowly turned to Torc and said, "No, I cannot. I cannot do it. Not even for you."
Torc looked shocked for a minute. Kallan continued, taking Torc's hand from his shoulder. "I can't do it. I'm sorry." He gripped Torc's hand within his own. "I'm sorry," he said again. With that, he turned around and then walked off, letting go of Torc's hand and leaving him surprised. Tork tried once more, "Please!" he called out to the prince. When no answer came back to him, Torc fell to the ground and began to cry.
* * * * *
A few days later, in the Octagon room, Torc found the prince and immediately drew his sword. He charged Kallan screaming out. Kallan fumbled for his sword and tried to parry it and missed. Torc wound up fumbling his attack but turned almost instantly and both wound up fighting the rest of the afternoon nonstop. At the end of the practice, Kallan had had marks all over his body and lines of blood where Torc had struck him viscously. Torc walked over, dropping his sword on the ground and said, "Do you hurt? Are you in pain?"
Kallan nodded and then looked at Torc with green eyes that now had worry in them once again. "Why did you do this?" Kallan asked him. Torc let one of his hands come up to stroke Kallan's cheek, blood mixing with his sweat. He said, "I would rather hurt you myself than watch someone kill you." With that, he stepped forward and kissed Kallan full and on the lips. Kallan's tears streamed down his checks as Torc felt him struggle and then give in.
Suddenly, Kallan pulled himself away and said, "No, this is not right." With that, the prince ran out of the room.
* * * * *
The next day, Torc was walking in the gardens when he saw Kallan sitting on a bench. He held his breath and then rushed to go apologize again, when his voice faltered. He then said, "Kallan, I have something to tell you." With that, he walked over to a questioning look on Kallan's face.
"As the gods hear me, Kallan, Your good shall be mine, and your honor shall be like my own to me; and I will stand to it with my life."
With a down cast face, Kallan said in a low voice, "Don't be afraid, Torc, that while you are my friend I shall ever come to dishonor; for rather than be a shame to you I will die." Torc then placed his right hand on Kallan's and his left around his shoulders and then said, "May it never be less than this with us." With that said, Torc bent his head and kissed Kallan again on the lips. Kallan gave in only for a second. He began to struggle in Torc's arms and then tried to break free.
Torc grabbed Kallan by his wrist. Kallan cried out. "Let me go!" cried Kallan. Torc did not comply however. He continued to grasp Kallan's wrist. "Please," begged Kallan, "your hurting my wrist!" Torc held it longer and then let go, collapsing to the ground, sobbing. "No, please..." began Kallan. He then shook his head and sat down on the bench that he had been sitting on. Torc shifted his head slightly to rest in Kallan's lap. Kallan sat there, long fingers stroking though raven black hair. "I'm sorry." Kallan said.
Torc sobbed louder. "I didn't meant to hurt you," he said between sobs. "...You know I never could..." Kallan smiled slightly, weakly, and then sighed. "Yes I know," he said, "But I just cannot do what you ask. It would be a little too much. You know that. I might learn to accept it; but no one else would ever be able to." Torc sobbed loudly.
"I only said it so that you would stop and leave me alone." Torc sobbed louder.
"However, if it matters to you; I do love you, but not as you love me, for I love someone else like that." Torc lifted his head and then stood up. He slowly wiped away his tears and then said, "Whoever it is, I hope you find happiness with them." With that, he turned around and then walked off, while he was turning, he saw the flutter of hair, when he turned around the hedge, he saw the maid Jenny. Torc walked heartbroken in the other direction.
A month passed by and Torc continued to gain Kallan's attention, to try to get him to love him, but found that he could not. He continued to hurt Kallan during practice insisting that his reason was that he would rather hurt him than see someone else kill him.
However, deep in Torc's mind, he was punishing Kallan for choosing the other person. Then one day, Jenny came to see him. "You are requested to go to the Octagon Room by the king. He wishes for everyone in the Sun Tower to see."
"What is this about Jenny?"
"Kallan is to fight for his love for Allesia."
"What?" Torc suddenly realized whom it was that Kallan had said he loved. This enraged Torc that Kallan had chosen her, but he went anyway.
He looked at her with a grim determination when he stood in the Octagon Room. Hatred seethed openly through his eyes at her. She did not seem to enjoy it one bit. So he continued to do it. Kallan came up to her and then said something, but he could not make it out. Then he openly kissed her and said something else. Torc tightened the fists that were being held at his sides. Kallen quickly glanced at Torc, then prepared.
Allesia nodded and then they both stood in their starting positions. Then they both started. Kallan started with a tight thrust at Allesia's stomach. She dodged it easily and then parried the blow. She then swung around and thrust her own sword at Kallen. Kallan countered it and slashed her arm. She staggered for a second, clutching the wound. Kallan had really meant it Torc suddenly realized. He smiled, but only for a second because Allesia looked at him, who in turn looked at her grimly. Torc began to secretly hope that she would lose.
Allesia recovered rather fast and then spun around and struck Kallan, slashing him across his sword arm. He cried out, but only for a moment. Torc wanted to go to him, but couldn't. Kallan stepped back and then leapt forward. He thrust his blade at Allesia's breast this time; she spun around and struck him on his back this time, slicing him down the side. He stumbled and then turned around and attacked again, raising a familiar cry. "For Love and Beloved!" Torc recognized it from his practice bouts with Kallan. Alessia paused and then parried at the last minute, causing a gash across her brow. Kallan then swung around wildly to attack again.
Blow after blow, Kallan attacked Allesia. She continued to parry blow after blow from him however. Torc wished this over, that she would lose, but they continued. They both were starting to visibly tire. Thrust, parry, and strike. Once again, Kallan cried out and attacked Torc's rival for the prince's affections. "For Love and Beloved!" he cried. "For the Prince of my Heart!" she cried and then knocked his sword away. It arched through the air and skittered on the floor, sliding all the way to Torc's feet. He looked at it wide eyes for a minute. Then he looked up.
He saw that they both were on opposite sides of the room, backs facing each other. They both turned around and then Allesia stepped forward to cross the distance between her and Kallan and then everyone saw what was going to happen. Torc's eyes widened open as it happened. Her steps quickened when she got closer to him. She leapt forward and then held his chin down so that she could kiss him full on the lips. Allesia then brought her other arm back and then thrust her sword through Kallan. She then said something that only Kallan could hear. She kissed him harder and then dropped to the floor with him. The prince's eyes widened for a minute and then softened in gratitude.
Allesia bent over Kallan's now still figure. Torc flew into a rage. He picked up the sword and then yelled out, "How could you!" His voice echoed off the walls in the octagon room. "You have killed him! You have taken him away from me!" Torc ran towards her and Allesia turned around just long enough to see Torc drive the blade right though her. "You deserve what you find after darkness." He said. She smiled at him and said, "Let the truth set you free..." He twisted the blade savagely, causing her to shudder. "And let the truth be your undoing; for you have killed my prince." Realization spread across her face.
"You... loved him?" she had managed to gasp out.
"Like no other." He replied tartly. "And you took him away from me. Now, I take that which is most dear to you..." He grinned maliciously and then said, "I have won in the end stupid, stupid Allesia." She then smiled and said back, "No you have not. I have taken that which is most dear to me, and now, I will have it again." Torc looked confused and then realized that he had indeed lost in this battle. "I have won that which I wanted." "No!" he cried out as he twisted the blade once more. "He was mine, MINE!" Torc then fell to the ground and began to cry.
He stopped and then said, "I have lost him." Tears streaked down his face as he stood up, staring at Kallan's body. He didn't want to acknowledge that he had lost Kallan, that Kallan was dead; dead at the hands of the person who he had loved more that Torc.
He then looked up and turned to the king and said, "Forgive me. For I have done you wrong." He picked up the sword and said, "This is for him that could not find to love me. This is also for him who has stolen my heart. This is the last thing I say: This is for he that I did love and found, but knew that he could not return it." With that, he thrust the sword straight into himself. He fell to the ground and the last words he said were, "I love you... my prince... Kallan."
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| Dominos of Fate Part 1: Love |
[13 Aug 2003|01:26pm] |
This is a set of stories, all the same one, just told from the different points of view and they all go together, read them in the order that they are presented and you should be good.
~ Yoakenomyoujou
Love
Allesia had not felt this way in her entire life. She felt as if she had been twisted into knots and then some, but it was a good sort of feeling. She smiled as she walked down the hall. It was nothing like she had felt before. She thought that she knew the cause too. It had to be Prince Kallan (kal-ann). She had been spending time with him recently. He was a friend to her. He was always there when she wanted to talk, and the opposite was true as well. Whenever he wanted to though, they sparred in the octangular room near the Grand Hall. They would spar for hours on end.
She stepped into the hallway that led to her room in the Twin Spire. She was situated in the Moon Tower. The Sun Tower was where he stayed. Sometimes, late at night, they would both sneak out into the courtyard and look at the stars together. They had been friends since childhood. They had often done it then and still continued to now. While they had been sparring, he had done the normal ritual.
"Do you stargaze?" He had asked in his melodic voice. It was music to her ears and she loved when he talked. His words seemed to rise up to engulf him.
"Yes, I do..." She had replied.
"Do you stargaze from the tower?"
"No, The skies are dark from my tower. Do you stargaze Prince?"
"Yes I do."
"From the Sun Tower?"
"No, The skies are dark from my tower too."
"Then, my prince, shall we meet in the courtyard and see if the stars are still dark?"
He would nod and then it would be set for that night. She enjoyed his company. They would both sit there and then watch the stars. Recently though, he had been watching her more than the stars as of late. She had remarked on it once and all he had said was, "I see brighter stars in your eyes than I see in the sky." She had blushed, but the darkness hid her. She had been happy for that.
As she walked the halls of Amergin (am-ar-geen), she bumped into Torc (tork). He was new to the castle and had quite an extensive reputation as well as an intense hatred for Allesia. She did not know why, but she did know that he did not like her. Torc sneered at her and then said, "Watch where you're going. I don't like bumping shoulders with scum like you." She said nothing, as she was supposed to do and then turned the corner, muttering obscenities when she thought that he could no longer hear her. She had begun to dislike him as well, but she had to deal with him.
He was staying in the Sun Tower, so she couldn't do anything to him that he would not report to the King. He was also becoming a fast friend with Kallan. She did not mind, but she had a strange feeling about Torc. She thought that something was not quite right about him, but she dared to say nothing. As of late when Allesia first discovered the feeling, her sparring with the prince in the Octagon Room became less and less and his time with Torc had grown more and more. She had never remarked at it, but she knew that Torc was slowly taking her time with her Prince.
One night, while they were stargazing, Allesia noticed a bruise on Kallan's arm that was rather strange. It was not that of a practice sword, but almost that of someone grabbing him. She turned to him and asked him about it.
"Oh that?" he said rather nervously, "That was from my sparring with Torc. He hit me rather hard while we were fighting." Allesia did not buy it however. Her Prince was not telling her the whole truth. She sighed and then moved closer to him. In response, he put his arm around her. She felt warm and at home in his arms, but she would never had admitted it if anyone asked her. It was their little secret she and he. It was almost as if no one else had the right to know. She smiled and then fell asleep in his arms that night, listening to his steady heartbeat.
The next morning, she found herself in her bed in the Moon Tower. When she sat up, she pondered on whether or not, the last night had been a dream. That was when she saw him, sitting next to the door with his sword on his lap. He had carried her out of the garden and put her to bed. He had stayed up all night, guarding her. She smiled slightly and then walked over to him. As she thought about waking him, she slowly leaned forward and then kissed him. His eyes fluttered open in surprise as he woke up, but then he returned it.
* * * * *
Now she walked the halls. Torc was long gone and she was feeling happier. That was when she heard it. She heard her Prince. She was overjoyed! Then she heard something else as well. It was Torc. Black hair matched black hair, as well as green eyes, but Tork was slightly taller than Kallan. He was standing there, conversing with the prince. She slowly stepped behind a nearby column to hear what they were saying.
"...You know what you do though!" That had been Torc. Kallan looked slightly hurt.
"But how am I supposed to know about that? I didn't know! I swear!"
"I have told you though!" Now Torc looked slightly upset. His eyes had furrowed in pain. "What more can I do to tell you, to show you?" Kallan looked away slightly ashamed. At least that was what Allesia thought it was. Torc looked to the ground. He then put a hand out to Kallan and placed it on his shoulder. "Please?" Torc said pleadingly. Allesia looked at Kallan for a minute and then saw him sigh. He slowly turned to Torc and said, "No, I cannot. I cannot do it. Not even for you."
Torc looked shocked for a minute. Kallan continued, taking Torc's hand from his shoulder. "I can't do it. I'm sorry." He gripped Torc's hand within his own. "I'm sorry," he said again. With that, he turned around and then walked off, letting go of Torc's hand and leaving him surprised. Tork tried once more, "Please!" he called out to the prince. When no answer came back to him, Torc fell to the ground and began to cry. Allesia slowly left as silently as she came.
* * * * *
Days had passed since Allesia had seen the incident between her prince and Torc in the corridors of Amergin. She had not brought it up to him while they stargazed or while they were sparing, which had become more and more often. However, he did not stop sparing with Torc either. She was now walking amongst the gardens. Before she reached the spot where she and her Prince would stargaze, she heard a muffled cry. She almost rushed around the hedge, but first looked. She saw her prince and Torc again. Torc had grabbed her prince by his wrist! She was shocked!
"Let me go!" cried Kallan. Torc did not comply however. He continued to grasp Kallan's wrist. "Please," begged Kallan, "your hurting my wrist!" Torc held it longer and then let go, collapsing to the ground, sobbing. "No, please..." began Kallan. He then shook his head and sat down on the bench that Allesia would sit on with him. Torc shifted his head slightly to rest in Kallan's lap. Kallan sat there, long fingers stroking though raven black hair. "I'm sorry." Kallan said.
Torc sobbed louder. "I didn't meant to hurt you," he said between sobs. "...You know I never could..." Kallan smiled slightly, weakly, and then sighed. "Yes I know," he said, "But I just cannot do what you ask. It would be a little too much. You know that. I might learn to accept it; but no one else would ever be able to." Torc sobbed loudly. Allesia turned away. She was torn. Torn between confronting Kallan and not saying anything. She walked away slowly, knowing she could say nothing.
* * * * *
It had now been quite sometime since the incident in the garden. In fact, it had been a little over a month. Allesia had almost forgotten it totally, had it not been for the bright red marks that appeared on her Prince's arms. She enjoyed time with her prince though. She truly loved her prince. And she knew he loved her too. However, it was not to last. One night, while they were stargazing he said, "My father has found out about us. He does not approve." Allesia turned her head around and looked at him with wide eyes. "How did he find out?" she asked in disbelief. "I do not know," he said, "but I do know one thing. On the marrow, we are to fight for our love.
This confused Allesia. The confusion played across her face. "I do not understand," she stated. "How are we to fight for our love."
"It is not we who are fighting for our love, but you alone."
"What?" she cried in disbelief.
"Tomorrow, we fight and it will not be a normal spar. If I win, I may never see you again. If you win however, Father says that we can be married."
"This has nothing to do with..." she trailed off. She did not want to bring Torc up now. She did not want him to know that she had spied. "With what?" he asked. "With nothing." She said in a low tone. "Just hold me. It might be the last time." He silently obeyed, wrapping his arms around her.
The next day, they were in the octagon room. Both were prepared to fight, but only one was willing to win fully. Kallan's father was there, but also, Torc. He looked at her with a grim determination. Hatred seethed openly through his eyes at her. She did not enjoy it one bit. Kallan came up to her and then said, "My father has changed the rules at the last minute. We must now fight to the death. I'm sorry." For the first time though, he openly kissed her and said, "Do not hold back my beloved. Do not hold back at all." Allesia saw Torc tighten fists that were being held at his sides.
She nodded and then realized what he wanted. She didn't know if she could do it, but she would try. They both stood in their starting positions and then they started. Her Prince started with a tight thrust at her stomach. She dodged it easily and then parried the blow. She then swung around and thrust her own sword at her Prince. It was halfhearted though, and her prince countered it and slashed her arm. She staggered for a second, clutching the wound. Kallan had really meant it. She looked at Torc who looked at her grimly. She knew that he was secretly hoping that she would lose, although as to why she could not have guessed why.
She recovered rather fast and then spun around and struck her prince. Slashing him across his sword arm. He cried out, but only for a moment. He stepped back and then leapt forward. He thrust his blade at her breast this time; she spun around and struck him on his back this time, slicing him down the side. He stumbled and then turned around and attacked again, raising a familiar cry. "For Love and Beloved!" She let her judgement cloud her for a minute and then parried at the last minute, causing a gash across her brow. Her Prince than swung around wildly to attack again.
Blow after blow, her prince attacked her. She knew that it wasn't his fault, but that didn't mean that she had to like it. What kind of father was Kallan's? She continued to parry blow after blow from her prince. He was starting to tire, as was she. Thrust, parry, and strike. She recognized a familiar pattern that he was establishing on purpose. She did not want to have to do this, but she had to. Once again, he cried out and attacked her. "For Love and Beloved!" he cried. "For the Prince of my Heart!" she cried and then knocked his sword away. It arched through the air and skittered on the floor, sliding all the way to Torc's feet. She did not like what she had to do. She stepped forward to cross the distance between her and her prince and then everyone saw what was going to happen.
Her steps quickened when she got closer to him. She leapt forward and then held his chin down so that she could kiss him full on the lips. She brought her other arm back and then thrust her sword through him. "Forgive me my Prince, for I have failed that who holds my heart." She kissed him harder and then dropped to the floor with him. The prince's eyes widened for a minute and then softened in gratitude. His last words to her were "No you have not; you have set him free."
As she bent over his now still figure, She heard Torc cry out loud. "How could you!" His voice echoed off the walls in the octagon room. "You have killed him! You have taken him away from me!" Allesia turned around just long enough to see Torc drive the blade though her. "You deserve what you find after darkness." He said. She smiled at him and said, "Let the truth set you free..." He twisted the blade savagely, causing her to shudder. "And let the truth be your undoing; for you have killed my prince." The realization of the words struck her as darkness began to encroach on her. "You... loved him?" she had managed to gasp out.
"Like no other." He replied tartly. "And you took him away from me. Now, I take that which is most dear to you..." He grinned maliciously and then said, "I have won in the end stupid, stupid Allesia." She then smiled and said back, "No you have not. I have taken that which is most dear to me, and now, I will have it again." Torc looked confused and then realized that he had indeed lost in this battle. "I have won that which I wanted." That was the last thing she said, before she was sent to the arms of her beloved.
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| Death's Tale : Prologue |
[13 Aug 2003|12:06pm] |
This tale that I tell will be my last. My time upon this coil, this wheel, has almost come to a close. The wheel has spun many into my eyes and past, and I fear that I should tell of this before it all comes crashing down upon my head. My name though, you must know by now, it must seem quite a pity to you. This story is only told, so that it will be remembered. No one needs to know my name, but I fear the Ravens, so I shall not speak it. My eyes however, must have given it away by now.
However, have you eve supposed what it was that Death thinks? Yes, she is indeed a free spirit, born from the worlds beginning. She was always there, and she has her own jobs to do. She is as she ever was, but she too has her won tale. It has often been called Death’s Tale, but you shall know what becomes of it…
The woman sighed and pulled her shawl tighter around her frame. As she sat next to the fire, she stared into the flames with dark eyes. The fire was only a small blaze against the chill that winter brought, but that was to be expected, as was the person who was coming to the door. She waited for only a moment and then spoke, “Enter.” Her voice was slight, but projected across the one room cabin. There was a slight shuffle at the other end of the door and it opened, brining a chill wind in.
A man stepped through the open portal and into the small living area. He was tall and dressed against the chill of the cold, unlike the small woman sitting near the fire. “Close the door.” He obeyed her command quite swiftly and she smiled to herself. As soon as the door was shut, she bade him to come near the fire. “It is after all rather cold outside. Would you rather not be warmer inside?”
The man shook his head. “I am quite fine where I am…” She brought up a single hand to stop what he was saying. “There is no need for that,” she spoke evenly. His green eyes flickered at the gesture. Her skin was a light shade of pale, and as the firelight danced off of it, he moved a few steps closer. “Leave that horrid thing by the door.” He stopped unaware at first to what she was talking about and then realized. He slowly swung the bundle from his back and placed it by the door. He also took of his cloak and hung it on a peg near the door as well. His boots however, he left on.
“There is no need to have them on while you are in my dwelling. You may take them off. I do not mind.” Hesitating, he shook his head and left them on. “Suit you,” was all she said. “What is it that has brought you here to find me of all people?”
The man shook his head, his silver hair cascading around his neck in a common warriors tail. “The same as all others seek from you. I wish to know what it holds for me, the future.”
The woman laughed, “Yes, they all seek the future, but not all of them will be in it.” The man took a tentative step forward and the woman turned back to look on him with sightless eyes. “Stop where you are Talvi, I do not wish to harm you.” The woman looked down and Talvi sensed a slight bit of regret in her demeanor. “Talvi, what is it that you wish to know? Weather or not you will be in the future? Why is it that you wish to know of it?”
“I want to know if I become what I have always wanted…”
The woman’s eyes glowed a slight red. At that moment, she began to speak in a monotone voice:
“Broken are promises that the First have made,
Spoken and written have they not been obeyed?
Pact made with Death’s own rules,
Find that they are only mere tools.
Seasons may come to rise in power,
But it shall fail them in the critical hour.”
As she finished, she slowly slumped into her chair. Her shawl, fell limply along her shoulders. Her skin was beaded with sweat. To tell as she had had taken much out of her. She was too old to issue such. That was why she had come to live alone in the cabin anyways. She looked towards the back where bookshelves were piled with books, journals, papers and other such, all written by her hands or another when she was too week to do so. They were all of the prophecies that she had ever made. Some had been told and they had come true, others yet still had their times to come.
Talvi stood there with his deep green eyes searching the woman for signs of anything else. She just heaved breath after ragged breath for a while. He stood there patiently for a while and then said, “Is that all you have to tell me?” The woman shook her head and then said, “That is all I dare tell you. Do not ask me anymore, least I tell you something you do not want to hear…”
“So what you said was for my amusement then?”
“No, You know I cannot speak naught but the truth. Do not ask me to See anything else.”
Talvi grinned a rather selfless grin and stroked his pitched white beard. It had been trimmed to fit his square jaw and accentuate it. He was not quite used to it yet, but it would suit him. He nodded to himself a moment and then spoke. “Thank you. I shall see if what you have Seen will be reality.” The woman turned her sightless eyes on him and then spoke in a rather harsh voice, “Have I ever been wrong that you know of?” Talvi shook his head.
“Old woman, you have never been wrong, however, you are getting on in years…”
“I was alive before your great grandfather’s times boy. And don’t call me old woman.”
Talvi shrugged. “All the same, I would not take it past you that you will soon no longer be able to See. Be careful now.” With his words hanging on the air, he picked up his sword and then placed his cloak back over his shoulders and then walked out back into the cold. As the door slammed shut, the woman smiled a sad smile.
“Come out,” she spoke, “I know you are there old friend.” Within the darkness to one side of the shelves of books another figure cloaked in a black cloak stepped out into the light, a rather tight hood covered their features and upon one shoulder, sat a single raven. In one hand, the specter carried a scythe on witch yet another Raven sat.
“You ever were able to sense my presence my dear,” the figure spoke. The woman smiled and then pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders again. “Perhaps it is because you and I are old friends, but then perhaps it is because I danced out of your clutches ever again and again.” The figure laughed. “Well met indeed friend, well met indeed.” The woman smiled and motioned to a chair that she could not see.
“Please, warm yourself by this fire.”
“You know that I can feel n warmth of it, I am cold as ice itself. However, the thought behind it is accepted gratefully.” The woman nodded rather thoughtfully as the figure sat.
“Take of your hood. You should be all right in here. There will be no one else coming for a while.”
The figure laughed ruefully. “Did you See that?”
The woman smiled, “Perhaps.”
The figure shook its head and then pulled of the cowl to its cloak. A cascade of silver hair flowed out into a pair of elegant shoulders. Dark brooding eyes, completely white in contrast to the woman’s own black, were but a pale reflection of the person’s demeanor. Her lips were full and lustrous and her skin was as pale, if not lighter in paleness, that the woman who sat in front of her. As she had leaned her scythe against the wall, the Raven on her shoulder cawed and then flapped its wings to join the other that had made a perch of it.
“What you saw for Talvi, do you know when it will come about?”
“I know no more than you my dear. If I had known more, I would have told him.”
“What of the part that you did not tell him?”
The woman smiled as her gaze was directed back to the fire. “That was for you neither. It is something that will be written down, taken note of, and when the time comes Ages from now, when the wheel spins back once again to the Age that created us, even after, scholars will pore over these texts trying to find again, what has happened, what will happen at that time, and what is yet to come.” She chuckled to herself at that moment and the other woman flashed her white eyes.
“Do not try and mock me Death. I know why you are here, but I know that it is not because you need to take me. You wished for me to see the future for you too. I know. So if you remember what I told Talvi, then you should be good. After all, that was just as much for you as it was for him.”
Death’s eyes narrowed to thin slits as she peered at the woman in front of her. The woman merely smiled right back at her. She dismissed it with a toss of her head. She looked back at the shelves and sighed. Even after her death, who would take care of them? The woman nodded. “Yes, who indeed…?” Death’s head spun back to her as the woman gazed into the fire. Sometimes she wondered whether the woman was an empathic, but she knew it not to be true.
Death stood up from where she had been sitting and slowly smiled at the woman. “Is there a reckoning coming?” The woman turned sightless eyes upon Death. “Is that a question, or a Question?” Death smiled unforgiving. “It is neither,” she said, “Just a thought.” The woman near the fire chuckled to herself and nodded. “Indeed Death, we all know that thoughts are what kill people more often than not.”
Death stood up and looked at the old woman as she once more regained hold over her scythe. “I am not going to be here to take you, you know…”
The woman looked up, a startled look on her face. “Oh,” she smiled, “I know. It would be sad though. After all, we have become such good friends you and I my dear.” Death smiled, something that was meant for this woman alone, something that no other mortal had seen before. “Yes indeed, we do get along.” The raven’s cawed once, but retained their perch on her scythe. The other raven finally cawed once in the ensuing silence and flew to perch on her shoulder.
“Oh, I have some cakes in one of the cupboards for your two darling ravens my dear. Hold on a moment before you go so I can give them to you.” Both Ravens cawed in delight as the old woman got up and walked to a cupboard on the sidewall. As she pulled out the small grain cakes from the cupboard, the Ravens took wing to her side in order to have them. She held out hands and passed one to each and then pulled out two more. She slowly walked back to Death and placed them in her hand. “For later, the little dears.”
“If I’m not careful,” Death said, “you will spoil them rotten and then how will they be able to do their jobs?” The old woman made a face and waved her hand in the air. “Oh don’t be so crass. They deserve a little treat every now and then.” Death smiled once again her enigmatic smile and then spoke once more. “I hope to come back and see you old friend…”
“Don’t worry death, you will see me again. I See that.” The woman chuckled.
“I hope you are right… Oraclé.”
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| Oracle Chapter 6 |
[13 Aug 2003|11:56am] |
VI: Secret Discussions
Dacthira smiled slightly as he stared across the landscape. The city spread across his vision winked in the glowing rising sun. The towers of metal twisted upon themselves and rose into the sky as if an army had raised a thousand knives and swords. Sharp metal points to contrast the maze of streets below. The city sprawled and then ended abruptly at the metal walls that had marked its permanent boundaries.
The city had been originally mined from a mine that had long since caved in and produced no more ore for it. The man who had built the city had been crazy, but he had had a vision. The vision still lived on even after he had died at the end of construction. The city stayed on as an eternal monument to madness, his madness.
The history was something to know as well. The man, Kaizen Raithen, had begun the construction of the city because of the idea that the Goddess and the God had given him a vision… at the age of twelve. Many called him crazy as he told everyone that they had come to him and commanded him to build a city. He tried in vain to get the city built by local rulers, but none listened.
He vanished for a while, and then he came back later. This time, he had money. How he had gotten it, no one knew. He had been gone for over twelve years; so many assumed that he had robbed others for it. Some thought that he had received it from a ‘faie. None knew save him however, and he never told.
He came back and then began to build his city. As it was built, he razed it to the ground several times before he began to use metal. The city, when finished, was thought to be a monstrosity. However, people who had nowhere else to go due to the troubles that had been caused by the Arch Prelate of the time, moved into the city.
Now it was one of the most prosperous cities in the world.
Dacthira shook his head softly while watching the sunrise, when there was a knock at the door.
“Come.” It was spoken softly as the door was opened. In scuttled a woman who was dressed in a flowing black robe of pure silk. The hem of the robe had been stitched with a reoccurring knot pattern that was common around Luxin. He turned to her and smiled.
“Ah, my darling Jianna, how lovely to see you here. I trust that you are indeed doing well?” The woman looked at him crossly and gave him such a glare that all he could seem to do was grin.
“If you think that I am doing any better than before you are sadly mistaking. I have a headache that would kill most people right about now and all you seem concerned about are false trivialities, which make the day seem longer than it already is!”
“Sorry my dear, but if I had but known…”
She snapped at him this time. “Oh you did know! You know how much iron makes us innate ones hurt…”
“Like I said, it is also the best place to be as of now. With all the iron, who could possibly sense what we are doing, much less eavesdrop or scry us?”
The woman rolled her eyes and then laced her fingers together. “You know that it is also harder for me to do any magic for you…” He nodded his head in acknowledgement. “We have this damn argument every time that I see you. It will be no different. We will continue to stay here in the ‘Mad City’.” He smiled charmingly at her and then turned to a white oak table that was inlayed with cherry wood. “Tea my dear?”
Jianna scoffed and then nodded her head slightly, “Only if you have…”
“My dear, I always have your favorite, Dark Cannith. You think that I would have any other here?” She frowned at him and then tried to smile as best as she could. There was just something though that didn’t seem right about it so she stopped trying to. She looked over at the window. The sun was rising higher into the sky with every passing minute. “What is it that you want this time?” Dacthira passed her a cup of the tea that had been sitting inside a small pot on the table. The teacup and saucer in his hands were indeed fine porcelain that had been made in Exitor. “So you serve me on your fine exíten?”
“Nothing but the best for you my dear.” His voice was almost like a soft caress as she warily accepted the cup from her.
“You know,” she began, “My mother always told me to beware a man who was charming, because a man could never be charming and not dangerous at the same time.”
As he sipped the tea, he smiled at her smoothly. “You should have listened to her,” he spoke. She shook her head, her brown hair swishing in the sudden movement. It had been combed to a shimmering gloss and a single comb in the shape of a butterfly had been placed in her hair. It had been crafted by hand in another city, where he had imported it.
Jianna fixed Dacthira with her green eyes and stared at him pensively as he continued to sip his tea. After a moment, she placed the cup with the saucer on the table and moved to sit in the elegant chair that was only a few steps away. The plush chair was cushioned with a soft covering of doeskin and was embroidered on the side in all manner of flowers.
“Why did you call me?”
Dacthira smiled with an obvious charm that made her shudder under her skin for a moment and then she asked again. He shook his head, “Only for the mere pleasure of your presence.” She sneered at him quite suddenly. “Don’t feed me that. You called me here for a reason, what is it or I shall leave the room.” He smiled again and then there was a sudden stillness.
The entire room took on what appeared to be a shielded light and as she looked out the window, she could no longer see the sun rising. She turned back to him and then said, “There, the room is shielded. There must have been a reason why you called me here at the crack of dawn…”
“There is a reason,” he spoke quite suddenly. “As you know, there have been troubles lately.” Jianna snorted. It was common knowledge that there was always trouble. This time it was centered in Nalmia. As to what it was about, no one knew. The crown however had to been having problems as usual. The two heirs to the throne were already bickering who would have the crown if the current King, who had been suffering a grave illness lately, were to die.
“Those stupid children are bickering again…” Jianna smiled contemptuously. “Is that what you are referring to?”
Dacthira shook his head. “You know what they have been up to in the forests of the elves?” Jianna rolled her eyes. “As if I make it a point to know what the Sulin’faie are doing…”
“You should make it a point my dear, you should. That has nothing to do with what is going on though.” He paused for a moment. “Did you know that the Arch Prelate has called the faithful? He has called all of the followers of Nadiria to answer the call. Trouble is brewing my dear… trouble. This poor city could be in the middle of it.”
Jianna rolled her eyes again. “What is really going on?”
He turned to her and then said, “Cathraiz is ready to declare war from the other side of the Misty Pass.” Jianna’s jaw nearly dropped. “What? I thought that the Overlord was happy where he was!” Dacthira smiled rather lopsidedly. “Apparently not.”
“What is his claim this time?”
“The old contracts that he made with the Dynast…”
Jianna threw her hands into the air. “And this has to deal with Nalmia how?”
Dacthira smiled again. “The Dynast, as you know…” Jianna suddenly clamped a hand over her mouth. “You don’t mean… oh my gods!” She jumped up out of the chair and then paced towards the window. “By the Hands of the Heart… This can’t be good.” She turned back over to Dacthira. “Are we supposed to do anything? Can we do anything?”
Dacthira shook his head. “There is nothing that we can do as of yet lady.”
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| Languages in Oracle |
[13 Aug 2003|11:49am] |
Languages in Oracle
In the Land of Nalmia and Calinia and others, there are many languages. The first that we deal with though are the languages of the ‘faie, specifically Sulinis’faie and Illen’faie. The first language that you will be immersed into will be the Sullinin language. The language is one of the three main languages of the ‘faie. This language flows off the tongue, much like the others and is known for its complexity of the flowery language. Unlike the others though, it is not used in a complex form as its sister language really, Illaria (the language used primarily by the Illen’faie).
Sulinin translations:
“Masöa iriaalea sié’ol Telarai?” (Is that you Telarai?)
“Öre’s misiô shiö’an elurí averiéras?” (Are these people safe brother?)
“Auraia elú irasias, tella mia, isiü ‘gere’aui eris’t víorês’ ïnak’.”
(Auraia don’t worry, my dear, they’re ‘strangers far from home’.)
“Miâlora.” (Welcome.)
cesilliöa (Pure; this is in reference to a person as in a pure ‘faie, one who has no tainted blood)
tella mia (my dear)
“Elú irasias? Maiaö vou’ën iriaalea eíah averiéras?”
(Don’t worry? Who could that be brother?)
“Dou’oi irasiasn! Shi’ena uisioüa eris nou’geoüs.”
(Stop worrying! Threatening everyone is not.)
“Tou’ouí isou eüan. Tou’oui…” (Sorry I am. Sorry…)
“Isou cozuön.” (I know.)
“Isou eüan gere’ai eris’t víorês’ ïnak! Oler’iá!” (I am a stranger far from home! Open!)
“Telarai ‘Aüon Jelath Immeiasras! Oler’iá itaien poor’al!” ([Telarai’s full name]! Open this door!)
“Sen’ai!” (Sybil/Mystic!)
“Miâlora Sen’ai, eris misa eil’taniä isou reina ithen sié’ol?” (Welcome Sen’ai, is there anything I offer may you?)
“Mes’oui Raxis’.” (Shadow Luck)
“Luxiator Raxis’” (Light Luck)
pitch’olth : “It was a small instrument that was shaped in the bottom like a rather large circle. On the top, there were two long pieces that were attached and jutted out of the instrument at an angle, which also ended in small circles of wood. Between these circles, another curved piece of wood connected the two. Upon which, there were strings which attached the main body as well. The strings counted nine in all, but for some reason, there had been added more strings to bring the total up to thirteen.
The wood itself was a rather pale version of what appeared to be maple, but the wood seemed more durable like white oak. Also, there were inlays of cherry wood in the instrument’s back side. It was a set of complicated knot designs that appeared to be in the shape of endless designs.”
It is a rather popular instrument among the ‘faie and is rather complicated to play by races other than the ‘faie themselves as it take a longer span of years to learn how to play it.
Dakar Illaria for ‘beast’
gilli’dan ‘Faie term that roughly translated is whore’s mongrel. It is denoted usually to the half-breeds, whose parents have for some reason had relations and then allowed the birth of these “creatures” as they are sometimes called. It is obviously not a polite term.
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| Phantom Rose Part 1 |
[12 Aug 2003|05:44pm] |
She woke up, not knowing how long she had been there, but she knew it was too long. She clasped her head and tried to shake the pain away from it. Her whole body was aching with pain as well. When it didn’t go away, she tried not to shake it away. It made the pain in her body even worse. She looked at her gray dull surroundings. It was as if they expected her to be happy that they had put her into the dark gray chamber. The walls were made of the same dull stone that the floor was made out of.
She looked for the door, but wound up sitting in the corner of her prison cell instead. As she sat there, she tried to think of what happened. What was it that had ended up with her in this grungy dismal cell? She was swept with a wave of nausea and clutched her stomach. As she stumbled to another corner, she wound up empting the contents of her stomach in a pail that was there.
After she had finished, she crawled back to a corner to cry with her head in her hands.
*****
“Well, she is in the holding cell.”
Ceril du’Theosin turned from the table she had been standing against heavily. Her green eyes flashed suddenly at the person who was standing in front of her. “Is that so? Then there is no need to worry and we can begin immediately.”
“Umm…”
“No need to just stand there and bite your lip Gila, what is it?”
The girl bowed her head only a moment before she looked back up at her superior. Her dark hair was tied behind her head in a dark braid that swung over her right shoulder. She tugged at it in nervousness. “She has been crying ever since she woke up.”
Ceril spun around and her eyes flashed. “She’s awake? Why didn’t you tell me?” The urgency in her voice made the reprimand all the worse to bear.
“We just found out Ceril…”
“That is not an excuse! You should have known when it happened! Now I have to take care of it myself!” She turned on the hapless woman and smacked her across the face. “I will not tolerate this happening under my watch. Until we solve the… problem… that we are having right now; we are not going to get any sleep.”
Gila looked up from the slap she had received quite suddenly, her cheek a bright red. “You’re not seriously thinking to go through with the plan that you had thought up in case of this are you?” As Ceril moved towards the door, she stopped for only a moment.
“Well of course.” She turned in mid stride as her hand rested on the handle of the door. “What were you expecting me to do?”
*****
The two figures stood next to the Theosin statue of Justice. The statue was of a woman who had one foot forward and was holding two crystal spheres in her hands. Each signifying night and day, one had the crescent moon within it while the other had the sun. The one with the sun was held slightly higher than the one with the moon. They were both beautifully rendered in the crystal. The statue stood upon a small dais.
Rellis sighed and crossed his arms behind his head. His dark brown hair was unruly as usual, but had a more distinct quality this time. He turned towards Dinia. She smiled smugly.
“Game is on…”
“As if I didn’t know that; don’t take me for a fool.”
Dinia flung her dark hair out with her hand. “I never said that you were a fool.”
Rellis crossed his arms and spoke aloud, “Well, then do we have bet?”
“You’re on.”
*****
She was surprised to find that she had slept when she woke up. She was still within the small stone room. She couldn’t remember falling asleep though. She was vaguely aware of a sound though that seemed to echo. As she looked around the room, she noticed more of her surroundings. Along one wall, there was a stone bench. From the corner that she was in, she could see a door, wooden. That reassured her somewhat although she didn’t know how.
At least she wasn’t in the dungeons. At least she thought that she wasn’t. For all she knew, wherever she was, she was in a dungeon. She griped her head in an effort to make it stop hurting. The pain was still there though, continuing, coursing through her head, a constant dull throbbing.
She couldn’t remember anything though. Her head still hurt too much. At that moment, she couldn’t even remember her on name. She felt thought that there was something that was more important that she was failing to remember; something that had changed her destiny in some way. There was something that was missing though, as if Fate had taken something away from her that wasn’t supposed to have been taken from her. As she tried to think again, the darkness encroached upon her sight again and she fell into the shadows.
*****
Ceril looked over at the wooden door and stared at it. Her gaze frightened the poor boy that had been given the duties of watching the girl behind it. He stood, worrying about what the black haired woman would do. Ceril had been known for her terrible tempers. He stood as she stared at the door. The brown haired girl behind her was no better either. She was tugging at her braid rather violently and the worried look on her face was driving on the poor boy’s nerves.
“How long has she been awake?” Ceril’s sharp voice cut through the silence like a hot knife through butter. The boy squeaked at her and spoke with an uncertain voice. “I’m not quite sure madam. We checked on her one moment and she was still passed out and then another moment, we checked on her and she was crying. What would you have us do madam?”
Ceril looked at the boy with her green eyes flashing. “I wouldn’t have you do anything but to keep a better watch on her. For now, she should be fine, but since she is awake now, I think it would be all right for us to see her now.” She turned to the door and motioned at it. “Open it now.” The boy turned white for a moment and then fumbled with the lock on the door. As he lifted the bar on the door and then turned back the latch of the lock, the door swung open.
Ceril lifted the front of her green dress off of the ground only by a bit as she walked into the small cell. Gila followed; her blue dress hemmed slightly above the ground, not needing to lift her dress. As they filed into the cell, they saw the girl huddled into a corner. Her hair and face as well as her clothes were not only matted with sweat, but with dirt as well, which was slowly mixing with the sweat to form a sticky mud. Her dress was torn in several places with large gaps showing her long legs and several others showing her arms. Her entire body was covered in scratches and cuts and bruises. Her pale blonde hair was completely disarrayed and plastered to parts of her sweaty face.
Her high cheekbones were bruised on the left and cut on the right. A rather large cut ran rather close to her throat. Her eyes were closed, but her breathing was ragged. Along her collar, the embroidered rose was cut and the thread was not only fraying, but unraveling as well. The high collar that had once encased what was most likely at one time a slender neck was now ripped and beneath it, the neck bruised as well. The girl’s hands were wrapped tightly around her knees, which had been brought up as far as they could go to her chest, which wasn’t very far. On her left hand, a large cut was still oozing blood, even if only a little bit.
Gila took one look at the girl and covered her mouth with a single hand in horror as the other quickly clenched at her side gathering large amounts of her blue dress. Her eyes watered for a moment and then she forced herself to turn away. She stepped back towards the doorway and then paused. Ceril however stood there looking at the girl. Her eyes twitched and inspected every aspect of the now unconscious girl. Her lips thinned and pressed together, she turned to look at the boy. “Was this how she was found?”
The boy bobbed his head. “They brought her here as per your command…” At this, Ceril made a sniffing noise, which Gila thought was made in disgust. Ceril didn’t even turn when she ordered the boy.
“I want her washed up. It would hardly be anything to have something done if she looked like that. I could not allow anyone to try with her looking as she is. Clean her up,” as if by second thought, she added, “keep her drugged as well.” At that, she turned around and left the cell room by the door, pushing her way past Gila. The boy looked over at Gila and she shook her head, nodding in agreement. The boy looked down at the ground for a moment and then looked back up.
“Is it all right?”
Gila looked at the boy in surprise. The boy was short, due to his young age, but he seemed to poses a wisdom that not many at his age could claim. Gila shook her head at the situation and then spoke to him. “Make sure it all goes well and treat her well also. Follow what Ceril says.” The boy nodded and then motioned with his head to the door. Gila walked out and the boy followed. After they were both out of the room, the boy replaced the top bolt and then the bar that kept the door shut. Ceril waited impatiently and then looked at the boy. “Make sure to keep her drugged. I’ll send someone down who can do it.” With that said, she tailed off up the stairs to the main levels with Gila trailing behind her.
It was called the First Age, the Age that began it all. This was the Age when the Houses ruled the lands. There were no allegiances, except to those whom you made it to. This was the Age of Beginnings. This was the Age where power was what one had to deal in, least one be covered under Darkness’ Shadows. It was in this Age, when the Power, was given to one house…
*****
She paced her cell. It had been somewhere around two ninedays since she had been found and taken under ‘arrest’. It had “been for her own good”, or at least that was what the man who had taken care of her wounds had said. She had been granted a new pair of clothes from what she had originally worn when she first found herself in the cell. She was now however, not wearing anything with the rose that she remembered was on her first dress. She clutched her head and tried to will herself to remember about how she had wound up in the situation she was in, but all that came up was darkness. She could not remember anything before the harrowing moment that she had found herself in the cell. She sighed and then sat upon the stone cold bench that was made into the wall.
There was a moment where she closed her eyes and the walls melted away from her and she was in a large field. Then she would open her eyes and realize that her imagination was a poor substitute if she could not get out of the cell. She slowly placed a hand upon her chest and held it there for a moment. She knew there was something that she was forgetting, something that felt as if it was within her.
It swelled beneath her hand, almost like it was willing itself to burst from her chest, but at the last minute, she would feel it subside, as if she were forgetting something again. Every time she had done it, she had felt words on the tip of her tongue, something familiar about it, but nothing would come. It was warmth that continued on and on deeper and deeper into her. She could feel it go down to the depths of her very soul almost. She had tried many times now in the past two ninedays to consolidate the feeling, to grasp the words, but to no avail. Every time she thought she had it, something interrupted so that her mind was distracted enough that it wouldn’t work.
She frowned mildly to herself and then sat down to wait on the stone bench again. She closed her eyes and a shadow of a memory flickered across her vision. She reached out for it, but it vanished when she heard the sound of keys in the lock of her door rattling. She quickly stood up and brushed of the new dress that she had. As she did so, she placed her hand to her collar once more. She knew that there too, something was missing from the gray frock she had on. The dress was not even more than her size, but just something for her to wear.
At that moment, a woman stepped in. Green eyes flashed at her as the jailer allowed the woman to step in and then closed the door behind her. The woman was dressed in a tight fitting dress, which had been laced up the back corset style. The corset itself was white with green designs in it that were made to look like briars and thorns, while every now and then along the pattern, a single yellow rose would appear upon it. Pins that also looked like thorny brambles held up cascading black hair that fell around her shoulders. Her face seemed to have a scowl upon it as she looked at her.
The woman curled red lips at her and then spoke, “Welcome back.” The girl continued to keep her hands clasped together at waist level. The black haired woman continued.
“Remember me? Ceril? I am the Matriarch Head of House Theosin.”
The girl continued to star as Ceril made a face. “Don’t you remember anything? IT is a serious pain to have to deal with you like that.” The girl simply shook her head. She couldn’t remember anything of what had happened in the past. All she knew was that she was here and something was wrong and that she was more than likely going to be blamed for it.
The woman named Ceril seemed familiar to her, but the girl was still not sure as to why. Ceril stepped right in front of the girl and lifted her chin from the place where it was looking down with white hands. The girl noticed that even the hands of this woman Ceril were quite strong.
“Tell us where he is, and you shall be taken care of.”
The girl squirmed a bit and then stepped back, or at least tried to. Ceril kept a rather strong hold on her jaw with her one hand. Ceril’s eyes glittered like ice and felt as cold as well. “Where is the Mangus Master?”
The words felt as if they meant something, but she struggled to find out what it was. The words felt like they were connected to her in some way and she gripped Ceril’s hand with both of hers and tried to pull away. Ceril’s grip was ungodly though, and remained clamped to her chin. The girl struggled and then struggled some more. She tried to writhe her way out of the grasp, but it was not happening. “Tell me where he is! Is he still alive? Tell me!” Ceril’s voice was a shriek. The girl began to cry.
“I don’t know what you are talking about! I don’t remember!” At this she gagged. Ceril sneered.
“You disgust me.” At this, Ceril released her grip and pushed the girl backwards; she fell to the floor. Ceril continued to sneer as the girl gulped in fresh breaths of air. She didn’t remember this woman, and if she did, she knew that she probably had not been on good terms with her.
“You are utterly pathetic. If I see you again, it will only be too soon.” Ceril’s voice dripped venom as she moved back to the door to knock upon it. “Since you won’t tell us where he lies, I guess it is safe to assume he is dead. That means we will be doing this quietly and sending potentials down to you soon. Have fun in here while you still can.” As the door opened and Ceril stepped out, she turned again to show a rather large smile upon her face as she said one last thing, “Your power over the Rose ends here my dear.” At that, the door closed in the girls face and she just sat there on the floor before she began to weep at her wretched memory.
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[12 Aug 2003|12:43pm] |
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mood |
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busy |
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I have found another story to be readily added to the Arcivus. I hope you enjoy it. It is another of the Mangus Master Chronicals. This story takes place before Mangus Talon and his Sword Mistress Eve are intorduced into the orriginal storyline. This is of a previous Mistress actually, a turn from the traditional point of view of the Mangus Master. Unlike Sword and Bard, this Story, Phantom Rose is a bit more collective as the girl does not really remember all that much, though it is established that she is indeed a Sword Mistress, not much is known from there, even by the House Theosin. I hope you enjoy this addition.
~ Yoakenomyoujou
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