My mother walked around the long white marble table, tapping her thin finger against my spine. "Back."
Immediately I straightened my back, pulling back my shoulders and staring straight out the window and at the garden in front of me. During the process I groaned, stifling the urge to throw my head back and whine. We had been at this for almost half an hour, I had grown bored of etticate training and people pleasing twenty minutes ago.
My mother stepped beside me, her posture picture perfect and hands neatly clasping together as they rested on her stomach. "You must fix your posture, dear."
"I know, mother." I sighed, slouching and within moments my mother had tapped on my shoulder.
"Sit up straight." She commanded softly.
I shot back into the correct posture once again.
My head peeled away from the bright sunny day outside to see my mother. Renora Crimson was the picture perfect definition of a rich and powerful woman, from what people saw in public. She always had her hair so that it leveled with her chin, it was straight and styled so that not even a brown lock dared to stray. Her black dress hugged her lanky figure, something my older sister took after.
A professional yet soft expression soothed the harsh edges of her jaw while emphasizing her high cheekbones at the same time. Throughout the years, from the earliest time I could remember, I had watched my mothers expressions grow more and more impassive from the years of dealing with diplomats and military generals. Though, whenever she was around her family, the bitch face would drop and a smile would spread across her lips.
"We have five hours until your guests arrive and you still have much to do dear, but the one thing I refuse for them to see is you slouching." She said, like it was going to make me magically get my act together. But if I had been slouching for seventeen years - almost eighteen, then I doubt that one little sentence would make me fix my posture.
Another silent sigh slipped past my lips. I knew where this was going. "Here we go again."
My mother paced behind me. "Honestly, Norah, you're going to be eighteen tomorrow, you should be able to talk to simple people without slouching."
I raised a brow, my head turned to look over my shoulder but never meeting my mothers full attention since she was behind me and pacing. "By simple people you mean, highly respected diplomats, army generals, and mages?"
Mother stopped, her brows creasing together ever so slightly as she walked around the table to look at me. "They are our closest friends, dear, not acquaintances."
Not wanting to argue, I nodded, silently. This topic was something my family had with me often and it always ended up the same way, their our friends and i've 'known' them since I could barely walk. I knew everything about these 'friends' from the forced conversations my family made me have with them, talking about stupid politics and the daily gossip when I could be training or studying.
Every week there seemed to be some party to hold or to attend, there was always someone to talk to and someone to discuss battle tactics with, though I didn't mind the last part. But since the rebellion of rogue dark mages, my parents hadn't needed to focus on their armies as much and therefor transitioned to keeping up appearances with the other mages.
The pale woman walked up to me, her heels clicking against the mahogany wood. She leaned forward, placing a delicate hand on my cheek and kissing my forehead. Her soft skin was hot like amber coals, unlike my sister or fathers. The flames of fires brewed within her, keeping her body warm even in the coldest of storms, while my sister and father stayed cold in the hottest of summers.
"I know you'd much rather be out training in the courtyard, my dear child." She said, bending forwards to be eye level with me. "But you are a Crimson and you are turning eighteen tomorrow." Her lips spread into a gentle smile, her thumb caressing my cheek lovingly. "And this is your Choosing party. Tomorrow at noon you will place your hand on the stone and it will tell you who you are truly meant to be, a mage like me, your father, and everyone before you." Her smile grew brighter. "Tomorrow you'll be a true Crimson and bring great things upon this world."
I sighed, feeling no relief in her words, only the weight of an entire bloodline resting upon my shoulders growing heavier.
Choosing Day happened when someone turned eighteen, everyone had to go through the ceremony, it was mandatory, though it never felt mandatory to anyone. People and towns threw parties the night before Choosing Day, wishing their young adults to be a mage or dragon rider, rather than a simple commons person. Though depending on what town you were in, people prayed for different things, like my city, filled with noble mages. They would never wish for me or anyone to be a rider, they'd much rather have you be a commons person than a rider.
The stone of Thessia, was a magical stone given to the mages by the Thessia, goddess of choice and chooser of fates. She had given the stone to the mages thousands of years ago. The stone was said to contain the spirit of Thessia, and when in contact with a human, she would peer into your soul and chose your fate ― a dragon rider, a commons person, one who wielded no powers, or a elemental mage. But no matter what family you came from or how well you trained you could never be more than one faction.
"What if I don't get anything, mother?" I asked, my eyes saddening before a small hint of panic peeked through. "What if i'm a dragon rider?"
"Oh, nonsense, my dear." She assured me, waving it off like there wasn't even a possibility for such a thing. "You will be a powerful mage, for that I'm certain. You will not be one of those scale-suckers."
Scale-suckers is what my parents and basically every mage out there called the dragon riders. The riders rode around on beasts, destroying everything that they displeased without a care in the world, while their dragons rolled around in the mud.
But I never thought of them like that. They were just people like me or someone down the street. Someone who walked up to the stone and were showed a dragons egg. The stone didn't care if your parents where mages or commons people. It didn't care if you were rich or poor, it just chose who you were meant to be. So it wasn't anyone's fault what they were given. But pure bloods like myself were the most powerful of their kinds, centuries worth of magic and powers inherited from my ancestors. Purebloods were incredibly rare and highly respected among their faction.
I nodded, still not feeling the slightest bit of reassurance. "Thank you, mother."
She nodded, kissing my forehead once again before my father cleared his throat. "Excuse me, m' ladies, am I interrupting something?" He asked with a smirk, bending in half to tease my mother.
"No one says that anymore father." My head dropped as I shook my head. His fatherly puns seemed to be getting worse and worse each year.
Mother stood up, turning her body towards the man with icy white hair. Every mage was an Elementalist meaning you could have either earth, water, fire, or air as a power. But, if you were extra special, then, you could get the ability to control light or dark - manipulate shadows or light rays, things like that.
"No, not at all, dear." Mother responded with a kind smile. "We just finished up."
Father smiled, his playful ocean blue eyes on me as he made his way down the stairs which were against the further side of the large open living area. He walked over to me and ruffled my hair with his hand. "Is your mother still trying to fix your slouch?"
"She'll never win. I won't let her." I cracked a lopsided grin and he chuckled, his deep voice rumbling through the mansion.
"Good." He agreed, earning a playful shove on his shoulder from mother. My father leaned close, raising a hand to one side of his mouth and whispering loud enough for both me and mother to hear. "Don't let her win. It'll be too much power for her too handle and she'll go all obsessive on us."
"I will not." Mother protested, giving him another shove.
Father and I quickly steeled our faces, glancing at the brunette standing behind the lean man. We both nodded, having a silent conversation to antagonize mother. "Okay." We both replied in unison as the man in his casual dress wear stood up. The white dress shirts sleeves were rolled up to his forearms, black pants and chocolate dress shoes finished his assemble.
Mother huffed, folding her arms over her chest as her lips twisted to the side. "Fine. Be that way. But I win."
"Of course you do, my love." Father replied, twisting his upper body to her and planting a quick peck on her cheek. The head general of the mage army looked back at me, giving a quick glance down at my black skinny jeans and cherry red shirt. "Norah, dear, I need a few thing picked up from the store. Would you mind picking them up for me, seeing that you're already dressed."
"Of course, father." I happily obliged, internally dragging my feet with the longest groan possible. Standing up from my chair and pushing it in, I trotted past them. "I'll be home before training."
"And the party." Father added as I quickly sped to the front door to get the errand done as fast as possible.
My mother walked around the long white marble table, tapping her thin finger against my spine. "Back."
Immediately I straightened my back, pulling back my shoulders and staring straight out the window and at the garden in front of me. During the process I groaned, stifling the urge to throw my head back and whine. We had been at this for almost half an hour, I had grown bored of etticate training and people pleasing twenty minutes ago.
My mother stepped beside me, her posture picture perfect and hands neatly clasping together as they rested on her stomach. "You must fix your posture, dear."
"I know, mother." I sighed, slouching and within moments my mother had tapped on my shoulder.
"Sit up straight." She commanded softly.
I shot back into the correct posture once again.
My head peeled away from the bright sunny day outside to see my mother. Renora Crimson was the picture perfect definition of a rich and powerful woman, from what people saw in public. She always had her hair so that it leveled with her chin, it was straight and styled so that not even a brown lock dared to stray. Her black dress hugged her lanky figure, something my older sister took after.
A professional yet soft expression soothed the harsh edges of her jaw while emphasizing her high cheekbones at the same time. Throughout the years, from the earliest time I could remember, I had watched my mothers expressions grow more and more impassive from the years of dealing with diplomats and military generals. Though, whenever she was around her family, the bitch face would drop and a smile would spread across her lips.
"We have five hours until your guests arrive and you still have much to do dear, but the one thing I refuse for them to see is you slouching." She said, like it was going to make me magically get my act together. But if I had been slouching for seventeen years - almost eighteen, then I doubt that one little sentence would make me fix my posture.
Another silent sigh slipped past my lips. I knew where this was going. "Here we go again."
My mother paced behind me. "Honestly, Norah, you're going to be eighteen tomorrow, you should be able to talk to simple people without slouching."
I raised a brow, my head turned to look over my shoulder but never meeting my mothers full attention since she was behind me and pacing. "By simple people you mean, highly respected diplomats, army generals, and mages?"
Mother stopped, her brows creasing together ever so slightly as she walked around the table to look at me. "They are our closest friends, dear, not acquaintances."
Not wanting to argue, I nodded, silently. This topic was something my family had with me often and it always ended up the same way, their our friends and i've 'known' them since I could barely walk. I knew everything about these 'friends' from the forced conversations my family made me have with them, talking about stupid politics and the daily gossip when I could be training or studying.
Every week there seemed to be some party to hold or to attend, there was always someone to talk to and someone to discuss battle tactics with, though I didn't mind the last part. But since the rebellion of rogue dark mages, my parents hadn't needed to focus on their armies as much and therefor transitioned to keeping up appearances with the other mages.
The pale woman walked up to me, her heels clicking against the mahogany wood. She leaned forward, placing a delicate hand on my cheek and kissing my forehead. Her soft skin was hot like amber coals, unlike my sister or fathers. The flames of fires brewed within her, keeping her body warm even in the coldest of storms, while my sister and father stayed cold in the hottest of summers.
"I know you'd much rather be out training in the courtyard, my dear child." She said, bending forwards to be eye level with me. "But you are a Crimson and you are turning eighteen tomorrow." Her lips spread into a gentle smile, her thumb caressing my cheek lovingly. "And this is your Choosing party. Tomorrow at noon you will place your hand on the stone and it will tell you who you are truly meant to be, a mage like me, your father, and everyone before you." Her smile grew brighter. "Tomorrow you'll be a true Crimson and bring great things upon this world."
I sighed, feeling no relief in her words, only the weight of an entire bloodline resting upon my shoulders growing heavier.
Choosing Day happened when someone turned eighteen, everyone had to go through the ceremony, it was mandatory, though it never felt mandatory to anyone. People and towns threw parties the night before Choosing Day, wishing their young adults to be a mage or dragon rider, rather than a simple commons person. Though depending on what town you were in, people prayed for different things, like my city, filled with noble mages. They would never wish for me or anyone to be a rider, they'd much rather have you be a commons person than a rider.
The stone of Thessia, was a magical stone given to the mages by the Thessia, goddess of choice and chooser of fates. She had given the stone to the mages thousands of years ago. The stone was said to contain the spirit of Thessia, and when in contact with a human, she would peer into your soul and chose your fate ― a dragon rider, a commons person, one who wielded no powers, or a elemental mage. But no matter what family you came from or how well you trained you could never be more than one faction.
"What if I don't get anything, mother?" I asked, my eyes saddening before a small hint of panic peeked through. "What if i'm a dragon rider?"
"Oh, nonsense, my dear." She assured me, waving it off like there wasn't even a possibility for such a thing. "You will be a powerful mage, for that I'm certain. You will not be one of those scale-suckers."
Scale-suckers is what my parents and basically every mage out there called the dragon riders. The riders rode around on beasts, destroying everything that they displeased without a care in the world, while their dragons rolled around in the mud.
But I never thought of them like that. They were just people like me or someone down the street. Someone who walked up to the stone and were showed a dragons egg. The stone didn't care if your parents where mages or commons people. It didn't care if you were rich or poor, it just chose who you were meant to be. So it wasn't anyone's fault what they were given. But pure bloods like myself were the most powerful of their kinds, centuries worth of magic and powers inherited from my ancestors. Purebloods were incredibly rare and highly respected among their faction.
I nodded, still not feeling the slightest bit of reassurance. "Thank you, mother."
She nodded, kissing my forehead once again before my father cleared his throat. "Excuse me, m' ladies, am I interrupting something?" He asked with a smirk, bending in half to tease my mother.
"No one says that anymore father." My head dropped as I shook my head. His fatherly puns seemed to be getting worse and worse each year.
Mother stood up, turning her body towards the man with icy white hair. Every mage was an Elementalist meaning you could have either earth, water, fire, or air as a power. But, if you were extra special, then, you could get the ability to control light or dark - manipulate shadows or light rays, things like that.
"No, not at all, dear." Mother responded with a kind smile. "We just finished up."
Father smiled, his playful ocean blue eyes on me as he made his way down the stairs which were against the further side of the large open living area. He walked over to me and ruffled my hair with his hand. "Is your mother still trying to fix your slouch?"
"She'll never win. I won't let her." I cracked a lopsided grin and he chuckled, his deep voice rumbling through the mansion.
"Good." He agreed, earning a playful shove on his shoulder from mother. My father leaned close, raising a hand to one side of his mouth and whispering loud enough for both me and mother to hear. "Don't let her win. It'll be too much power for her too handle and she'll go all obsessive on us."
"I will not." Mother protested, giving him another shove.
Father and I quickly steeled our faces, glancing at the brunette standing behind the lean man. We both nodded, having a silent conversation to antagonize mother. "Okay." We both replied in unison as the man in his casual dress wear stood up. The white dress shirts sleeves were rolled up to his forearms, black pants and chocolate dress shoes finished his assemble.
Mother huffed, folding her arms over her chest as her lips twisted to the side. "Fine. Be that way. But I win."
"Of course you do, my love." Father replied, twisting his upper body to her and planting a quick peck on her cheek. The head general of the mage army looked back at me, giving a quick glance down at my black skinny jeans and cherry red shirt. "Norah, dear, I need a few thing picked up from the store. Would you mind picking them up for me, seeing that you're already dressed."
"Of course, father." I happily obliged, internally dragging my feet with the longest groan possible. Standing up from my chair and pushing it in, I trotted past them. "I'll be home before training."
"And the party." Father added as I quickly sped to the front door to get the errand done as fast as possible.