Most of the below is credited towards the outstanding author, Garth Nix, and his Old Kingdom Trilogy (( Garth Nix), except for a few new characters (( Me). I apologize if any of the facts are incorrect. Garth Nix rocks:)
Forbidden
Prologue: 1 year before the binding of Orannis
"Celina, there is nothing we can do. I'll kill her, if you'd like," whispered Hedge.
"No...please, there has to be another way, why wont you let me give her to the orphanage?" The Charter mage, Celina, cried out, showing a vulnerability never witnessed until the birth of her child, Arya.
"She's of my blood, too...it is difficult. But it must be done. She will someday be a Free Magic sorceress. Actually, I'm not sure what she'll be, or what she is...it's something different, something of the Beginning, perhaps...Anyway, I cannot do my work if there is a child in my way," said Hedge.
"I could keep her. Why not, Hedge? I could teach her the ways of the Charter."
"Celina, I am still loyal to my dark art. I don't have it in me to allow my own daughter to become a Charter mage-she'd become my enemy."
"You were almost married to one...what can you say to that?" she almost whispered, revealing their secret passion to the darkness surrounding them.
"You don't exactly choose who you fall in love with," he answered, even softer. "Give her to me. You don't have to watch, I'll personally escort her to the ninth gate."
"At least give her a chance! The orphanage is just a few minutes away from here!"
"If that's what you want, Celina. Arya leading a life of mystery, with no parents to guide her-alone."
"And death is better for one so loved?"
"Well, we could take care of her spirit in death, if that's possible."
"No. We will put her in an orphanage."
"But-" Celina's powers were rising within her.
"No, Hedge! She will stay in an Orphanage, and that's final!" she bellowed. Hedge fell silent, a sadness creeping into his cold, dark, gaze.
"Then take her," he whispered. "Go, and bring her there. But know what this means for us...and her."
"Yes...I'm sorry, Hedge. We always knew that this...our love...was forbidden."
"I must go and tend to my business. Farewell, Celina."
"Hedge...I...Farewell." He smiled, sadly, and left, riding into the night. Celina turned and kissed the baby on her forehead and rode swiftly to the Old North Orphanage.
When she reached its stone walls and marble steps, she kissed Arya's forehead again and slowly, there appeared a Charter symbol. There was a bright, golden light as it infused within her. She didn't even mean to baptize the child, but Celina had done the impossible-turning a soon-to-be Free Magic sorceress towards the Charter-or so she had thought. Suddenly, the symbol turned silver, and flashed its brilliance as Celina stood, dumbstruck. She had known that Arya had the blood of Free Magic and Charter. But there was something else...
CHAPTER I: 16 years after the binding of Orannis
Someone had knocked upon Arya's door-but she didn't hear it. She was fast asleep, deep within a dream. Arya's roommates did not care to wake her from her afternoon naps, for they were afraid of her charter mark, her magic, and her blood. There were rumors that she had been the daughter of a necromancer, that she practiced free magic. But that wasn't possible, for many had seen her using magic of the Charter. Rumors or not, she realized one thing by the time she woke up-Arya was late for dinner.
She cursed under her breath and quickly changed into her clothes. Barely wearing her shoes, she ran down the long, echoing hallways and stopped to catch her breath before entering the dining room. Trying to make as little noise as possible, Arya slowly opened the huge, oak doors and slipped inside. A few people noticed her entrance, but no one really made a fuss.
Arya took her seat next to Kris, her lifelong friend who was about to leave the orphanage. "Hey! Late again, Arya...tisk, tisk. Lucky no one saw," he said playfully, and handed her a roll.
"Not hungry," she said.
"You sure?"
"Yep," she replied and slumped down into her chair.
"What's wrong?" Kris asked.
She sighed. "You know what's wrong."
"True, true...damn telepathy, I can never have a normal conversation with anyone," he laughed. "But look at it this way, only one more year."
"But today you've turned eighteen. And I'm only seventeen."
"Just because I'm leaving tonight doesn't mean that you wont make any other friends."
"Yes it does," she said dryly.
"Pretend that I'm just taking a vacation, a year long vacation."
She rolled her eyes.
"Hey, cheer up, only one more year for you! Think of that, you'll be far, far away from this bloody place in no time at all!"
"Yeah...except for that little year in between."
"Then come with me."
"I cant..."
"I'll stuff you in my suit case."
Arya shook her head.
"I'm sorry for being older than you."
She laughed and smiled. "Apology accepted. I'll just have to wait another year. And I hope to see you sometime again," Arya said, trying to be happy for him in order to hold back her tears.
"You can count on it."
That evening, Arya had tried to pretend that Kris wasn't really leaving at all, that it was just another ordinary dinner. But when dinner was over, and it was time to say their goodbyes, her tears could no longer be held back. In an instant, the moment came and went. Kris was gone, and Arya was friend-less-at least that's what she thought. The truth was, she was very popular and admired by the other orphans-though she had no idea. They saw in her a magic that was different, of something else. Just different. So they kept their distance, except for Kris, but they also saw the strength in her blood. Everyone wanted to cast a spell as well as Arya. But she still remained clueless.
Walking slowly back to her room, through the empty and dark hallways, she cried. Not only for the loss of her best friend, but for what she had to do. Escaping was not an easy thing at the Old North Orphanage. She had tried it a few times, which also increased her popularity, but to no avail. This time, she knew, nothing could stop her. Arya would use all of her power and might in order to leave.
Her tears had ceased. She was a changed woman who was no longer waiting for her future to unfold. She made her own destiny.
"Arya...is...is that you?" one of her roommates asked.
"Go back to sleep," she replied. Her destiny would have to wait just a little longer. Maybe an hour or two-just enough so that everyone would be asleep. Putting on her nightgown, she curled up beneath the covers and tried not to fall asleep.
Instead, she contemplated a plan she had in mind. If she was caught by the hall patrols, she'd just say that she was on her way to the bathroom-and she was, in fact. Once she'd get there, she'd have to be able to break the spell which held the windows shut. And then she'd jump, falling only about five feet below to the soft earth. Since the Ratterlin was so close by, she'd walk there and swim across. Then she'd be free.
When an hour had gone by, her bunkmates were all sleeping. Arya got up and brushed her long, black, wavy hair, got dressed in the only leather armor that she owned, and prepared a bag of valuables-not that she had many. She took her handmade dagger (they didn't allow weapons at Old North), spare clothes, and a few other odds and ends. It didn't occur to her that packing food would probably be a good idea. But she really didn't have time for thinking. Slinging her pack on, she slipped her loose nightgown back on to hide her sad excuse for armor and her bag beneath it. Quietly, she crept into the long hallways, hoping to never see their high walls ever again, and praying that she wouldn't get caught.
Arya rounded the corner, and with the bathroom so close by, there stood a hall patroller. She jumped.
"Frightened? A little tense? Maybe you should go back to bed, missy," the patrol woman said, "Get some rest. Oh. And where were you off to?"
"I have to go to the bathroom. Really badly," she said and held her breath.
"Ah. Well, in that case, I'll just stand right here, outside the Ladies room, and wait for you to come on back."
She nodded and entered the dark and echoing bathroom, cursing under her breath. She'd have to be extremely quiet if she wanted to escape. First, Arya flushed the toilet and turned on the water, pretending to wash her hands. While the water was running, she crept over to the window and pulled a few Charter marks into her head and lightly touched the windowsill. Immediately, she knew it didn't work. The golden light bounced off and disappeared. She'd have to use Free Magic...at least, Arya thought that's what it was. She was never really taught what the essence of Free Magic really was, she just assumed that she could do it.
Combining both Free Magic and Charter Magic, she took all of her will and forced into the windowsill. It glowed silver and opened with such force that it shattered, giving the patrol a reason to barge in through the door.
Arya leapt over the glass shards and onto the soft, dark earth below, just escaping the clutches of the patrol lady. But the patroller jumped as well, and bounded after Arya in great strides, leaps that a woman of her age should not be capable of. Arya sprinted towards the Ratterlin, praying that she wouldn't stumble, as the patroller was finally slowing, running out of breath. Arya looked back only once, locking eyes with the woman before making the hasty dive into the frigid river water.
"Arya! Get back here at once! Don't think for a moment that I don't know who you are! I'll report you to the head mistress and you'll be punished when you return!"
But Arya wasn't thinking of returning-ever. She just drifted lazily down the Ratterlin, feeling sort of at home. Sometimes, when her mind would drift towards more morbid thoughts, she'd find herself standing in a cold river, and wanting to lie down and allow the cool water to take her away. But then she'd get startled and snap back to reality, fighting the river's current.
Recalling those thoughts of the river, Arya suddenly found herself there, walking tall amidst the heavy mist and dim lighting. This time, she was afraid. There was something in the water, something swimming towards her. It came right up to her feet, reached out a bony claw, and then recoiled, quickly swimming away. Arya screamed, and took a few steps back. She wondered what had scared the little being away. Surely, by herself, she was not all that threatening. Arya stood tall, with long, black, wavy hair. Her slender figure and leather armor was hidden beneath her nightgown, and her eyes were huge and dark, holding an ominous secret behind them-a secret that she, herself, did not know of. At the moment, she was scared half to death, and the creature could have probably given her a nasty bite-or something more. She was suddenly aware of the dangers lurking in the river, and her increasing vulnerability. She spun around, and she froze. Standing silently behind her was a young man, much taller than herself, holding a bell in his hand.
"Hello," he said in deep and quiet voice. "Who are you?" he asked, very curiously. He wasn't used to seeing someone standing so blatantly in Death, unarmed, and she definitely was not one of the Dead. He could sense it. He thought it rather odd that she could not pull her gaze away from the bell bandolier across his chest. "Miss?" he said, this time a little louder and smiled. She stood, wide eyed, and looked into his deep, blue eyes. "Who are you?"
"I...I am-" suddenly, before she could blurt out her name, the man's gaze shifted from her eyes to over her shoulder. Fear crept into his stare.
"Milady...look out!" he shouted, and pulled Arya out of harm's way. "Run! Back into life!" he pointed, just as she saw a huge beast rise from the shadowy waters. She didn't dare look back, as she ran and fought against the current. It was taking a while, for Arya was farther from the border than she had thought. Right before she leapt into life, she turned back to see the young man, fighting valiantly a distance away. Then, she turned and was suddenly jolted by the shock that she was back in the Ratterlin, once again, drifting towards...she didn't know where. Away from Old North.
Thinking that there had somehow been a sudden change in temperature, she suddenly felt very cold, and realized that there was ice melting away from her eyelashes. Arya remembered the last time that she had been in the River. There had been frost on her cheeks, and she had to think of a quick excuse one day. But this time, her skin had turned ghastly white and she was shaking uncontrollably. Much colder than before, she tried to reach the riverbank, but the current was too strong. Panicking, she gulped down some of the Ratterlin's freezing waters, and coughed.
"Help!" she yelled. "Anyone! Is anyone there? Please help me-" she choked again. Her futile efforts had no effects, for she was still being carried by the increasing speed of the current. "Help me!"
Suddenly, she noticed that there was something huge up ahead, a house perhaps. She knew that she had to get to the shore. She swam with all of her might, her muscles burning and her lungs begging for air. She was close now, so close that she could probably stand up, but when she tried, she noticed that the river was much deeper than expected. "Help!" she blurted out, just as she saw a running figure on shore. But there was no air left for her to breathe-just water. Slowly, she stopped swimming, and Arya began to see black dots clouding her vision. Her head swam, instead of her body. Just before the water had time to take her under, a hand reached out and grabbed her.
Fading in and out of consciousness, she felt someone lift her from the Ratterlin's angry grasp.
"It's all right, you're safe now," he said. "Yrael! Run and get some warm blankets, quickly please!"
A chill overcame Arya as she faded back out of consciousness.
Forbidden
Prologue: 1 year before the binding of Orannis
"Celina, there is nothing we can do. I'll kill her, if you'd like," whispered Hedge.
"No...please, there has to be another way, why wont you let me give her to the orphanage?" The Charter mage, Celina, cried out, showing a vulnerability never witnessed until the birth of her child, Arya.
"She's of my blood, too...it is difficult. But it must be done. She will someday be a Free Magic sorceress. Actually, I'm not sure what she'll be, or what she is...it's something different, something of the Beginning, perhaps...Anyway, I cannot do my work if there is a child in my way," said Hedge.
"I could keep her. Why not, Hedge? I could teach her the ways of the Charter."
"Celina, I am still loyal to my dark art. I don't have it in me to allow my own daughter to become a Charter mage-she'd become my enemy."
"You were almost married to one...what can you say to that?" she almost whispered, revealing their secret passion to the darkness surrounding them.
"You don't exactly choose who you fall in love with," he answered, even softer. "Give her to me. You don't have to watch, I'll personally escort her to the ninth gate."
"At least give her a chance! The orphanage is just a few minutes away from here!"
"If that's what you want, Celina. Arya leading a life of mystery, with no parents to guide her-alone."
"And death is better for one so loved?"
"Well, we could take care of her spirit in death, if that's possible."
"No. We will put her in an orphanage."
"But-" Celina's powers were rising within her.
"No, Hedge! She will stay in an Orphanage, and that's final!" she bellowed. Hedge fell silent, a sadness creeping into his cold, dark, gaze.
"Then take her," he whispered. "Go, and bring her there. But know what this means for us...and her."
"Yes...I'm sorry, Hedge. We always knew that this...our love...was forbidden."
"I must go and tend to my business. Farewell, Celina."
"Hedge...I...Farewell." He smiled, sadly, and left, riding into the night. Celina turned and kissed the baby on her forehead and rode swiftly to the Old North Orphanage.
When she reached its stone walls and marble steps, she kissed Arya's forehead again and slowly, there appeared a Charter symbol. There was a bright, golden light as it infused within her. She didn't even mean to baptize the child, but Celina had done the impossible-turning a soon-to-be Free Magic sorceress towards the Charter-or so she had thought. Suddenly, the symbol turned silver, and flashed its brilliance as Celina stood, dumbstruck. She had known that Arya had the blood of Free Magic and Charter. But there was something else...
CHAPTER I: 16 years after the binding of Orannis
Someone had knocked upon Arya's door-but she didn't hear it. She was fast asleep, deep within a dream. Arya's roommates did not care to wake her from her afternoon naps, for they were afraid of her charter mark, her magic, and her blood. There were rumors that she had been the daughter of a necromancer, that she practiced free magic. But that wasn't possible, for many had seen her using magic of the Charter. Rumors or not, she realized one thing by the time she woke up-Arya was late for dinner.
She cursed under her breath and quickly changed into her clothes. Barely wearing her shoes, she ran down the long, echoing hallways and stopped to catch her breath before entering the dining room. Trying to make as little noise as possible, Arya slowly opened the huge, oak doors and slipped inside. A few people noticed her entrance, but no one really made a fuss.
Arya took her seat next to Kris, her lifelong friend who was about to leave the orphanage. "Hey! Late again, Arya...tisk, tisk. Lucky no one saw," he said playfully, and handed her a roll.
"Not hungry," she said.
"You sure?"
"Yep," she replied and slumped down into her chair.
"What's wrong?" Kris asked.
She sighed. "You know what's wrong."
"True, true...damn telepathy, I can never have a normal conversation with anyone," he laughed. "But look at it this way, only one more year."
"But today you've turned eighteen. And I'm only seventeen."
"Just because I'm leaving tonight doesn't mean that you wont make any other friends."
"Yes it does," she said dryly.
"Pretend that I'm just taking a vacation, a year long vacation."
She rolled her eyes.
"Hey, cheer up, only one more year for you! Think of that, you'll be far, far away from this bloody place in no time at all!"
"Yeah...except for that little year in between."
"Then come with me."
"I cant..."
"I'll stuff you in my suit case."
Arya shook her head.
"I'm sorry for being older than you."
She laughed and smiled. "Apology accepted. I'll just have to wait another year. And I hope to see you sometime again," Arya said, trying to be happy for him in order to hold back her tears.
"You can count on it."
That evening, Arya had tried to pretend that Kris wasn't really leaving at all, that it was just another ordinary dinner. But when dinner was over, and it was time to say their goodbyes, her tears could no longer be held back. In an instant, the moment came and went. Kris was gone, and Arya was friend-less-at least that's what she thought. The truth was, she was very popular and admired by the other orphans-though she had no idea. They saw in her a magic that was different, of something else. Just different. So they kept their distance, except for Kris, but they also saw the strength in her blood. Everyone wanted to cast a spell as well as Arya. But she still remained clueless.
Walking slowly back to her room, through the empty and dark hallways, she cried. Not only for the loss of her best friend, but for what she had to do. Escaping was not an easy thing at the Old North Orphanage. She had tried it a few times, which also increased her popularity, but to no avail. This time, she knew, nothing could stop her. Arya would use all of her power and might in order to leave.
Her tears had ceased. She was a changed woman who was no longer waiting for her future to unfold. She made her own destiny.
"Arya...is...is that you?" one of her roommates asked.
"Go back to sleep," she replied. Her destiny would have to wait just a little longer. Maybe an hour or two-just enough so that everyone would be asleep. Putting on her nightgown, she curled up beneath the covers and tried not to fall asleep.
Instead, she contemplated a plan she had in mind. If she was caught by the hall patrols, she'd just say that she was on her way to the bathroom-and she was, in fact. Once she'd get there, she'd have to be able to break the spell which held the windows shut. And then she'd jump, falling only about five feet below to the soft earth. Since the Ratterlin was so close by, she'd walk there and swim across. Then she'd be free.
When an hour had gone by, her bunkmates were all sleeping. Arya got up and brushed her long, black, wavy hair, got dressed in the only leather armor that she owned, and prepared a bag of valuables-not that she had many. She took her handmade dagger (they didn't allow weapons at Old North), spare clothes, and a few other odds and ends. It didn't occur to her that packing food would probably be a good idea. But she really didn't have time for thinking. Slinging her pack on, she slipped her loose nightgown back on to hide her sad excuse for armor and her bag beneath it. Quietly, she crept into the long hallways, hoping to never see their high walls ever again, and praying that she wouldn't get caught.
Arya rounded the corner, and with the bathroom so close by, there stood a hall patroller. She jumped.
"Frightened? A little tense? Maybe you should go back to bed, missy," the patrol woman said, "Get some rest. Oh. And where were you off to?"
"I have to go to the bathroom. Really badly," she said and held her breath.
"Ah. Well, in that case, I'll just stand right here, outside the Ladies room, and wait for you to come on back."
She nodded and entered the dark and echoing bathroom, cursing under her breath. She'd have to be extremely quiet if she wanted to escape. First, Arya flushed the toilet and turned on the water, pretending to wash her hands. While the water was running, she crept over to the window and pulled a few Charter marks into her head and lightly touched the windowsill. Immediately, she knew it didn't work. The golden light bounced off and disappeared. She'd have to use Free Magic...at least, Arya thought that's what it was. She was never really taught what the essence of Free Magic really was, she just assumed that she could do it.
Combining both Free Magic and Charter Magic, she took all of her will and forced into the windowsill. It glowed silver and opened with such force that it shattered, giving the patrol a reason to barge in through the door.
Arya leapt over the glass shards and onto the soft, dark earth below, just escaping the clutches of the patrol lady. But the patroller jumped as well, and bounded after Arya in great strides, leaps that a woman of her age should not be capable of. Arya sprinted towards the Ratterlin, praying that she wouldn't stumble, as the patroller was finally slowing, running out of breath. Arya looked back only once, locking eyes with the woman before making the hasty dive into the frigid river water.
"Arya! Get back here at once! Don't think for a moment that I don't know who you are! I'll report you to the head mistress and you'll be punished when you return!"
But Arya wasn't thinking of returning-ever. She just drifted lazily down the Ratterlin, feeling sort of at home. Sometimes, when her mind would drift towards more morbid thoughts, she'd find herself standing in a cold river, and wanting to lie down and allow the cool water to take her away. But then she'd get startled and snap back to reality, fighting the river's current.
Recalling those thoughts of the river, Arya suddenly found herself there, walking tall amidst the heavy mist and dim lighting. This time, she was afraid. There was something in the water, something swimming towards her. It came right up to her feet, reached out a bony claw, and then recoiled, quickly swimming away. Arya screamed, and took a few steps back. She wondered what had scared the little being away. Surely, by herself, she was not all that threatening. Arya stood tall, with long, black, wavy hair. Her slender figure and leather armor was hidden beneath her nightgown, and her eyes were huge and dark, holding an ominous secret behind them-a secret that she, herself, did not know of. At the moment, she was scared half to death, and the creature could have probably given her a nasty bite-or something more. She was suddenly aware of the dangers lurking in the river, and her increasing vulnerability. She spun around, and she froze. Standing silently behind her was a young man, much taller than herself, holding a bell in his hand.
"Hello," he said in deep and quiet voice. "Who are you?" he asked, very curiously. He wasn't used to seeing someone standing so blatantly in Death, unarmed, and she definitely was not one of the Dead. He could sense it. He thought it rather odd that she could not pull her gaze away from the bell bandolier across his chest. "Miss?" he said, this time a little louder and smiled. She stood, wide eyed, and looked into his deep, blue eyes. "Who are you?"
"I...I am-" suddenly, before she could blurt out her name, the man's gaze shifted from her eyes to over her shoulder. Fear crept into his stare.
"Milady...look out!" he shouted, and pulled Arya out of harm's way. "Run! Back into life!" he pointed, just as she saw a huge beast rise from the shadowy waters. She didn't dare look back, as she ran and fought against the current. It was taking a while, for Arya was farther from the border than she had thought. Right before she leapt into life, she turned back to see the young man, fighting valiantly a distance away. Then, she turned and was suddenly jolted by the shock that she was back in the Ratterlin, once again, drifting towards...she didn't know where. Away from Old North.
Thinking that there had somehow been a sudden change in temperature, she suddenly felt very cold, and realized that there was ice melting away from her eyelashes. Arya remembered the last time that she had been in the River. There had been frost on her cheeks, and she had to think of a quick excuse one day. But this time, her skin had turned ghastly white and she was shaking uncontrollably. Much colder than before, she tried to reach the riverbank, but the current was too strong. Panicking, she gulped down some of the Ratterlin's freezing waters, and coughed.
"Help!" she yelled. "Anyone! Is anyone there? Please help me-" she choked again. Her futile efforts had no effects, for she was still being carried by the increasing speed of the current. "Help me!"
Suddenly, she noticed that there was something huge up ahead, a house perhaps. She knew that she had to get to the shore. She swam with all of her might, her muscles burning and her lungs begging for air. She was close now, so close that she could probably stand up, but when she tried, she noticed that the river was much deeper than expected. "Help!" she blurted out, just as she saw a running figure on shore. But there was no air left for her to breathe-just water. Slowly, she stopped swimming, and Arya began to see black dots clouding her vision. Her head swam, instead of her body. Just before the water had time to take her under, a hand reached out and grabbed her.
Fading in and out of consciousness, she felt someone lift her from the Ratterlin's angry grasp.
"It's all right, you're safe now," he said. "Yrael! Run and get some warm blankets, quickly please!"
A chill overcame Arya as she faded back out of consciousness.