( Disclaimer )
o.O Hilde and Noin are sisters? Duke Dermail's a Lord of some continent somewhere? and Trowa tames dragons? Year A.C. 202... You'll get all these answers and more in this fic... so read and TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK!!! *ahem* my muse got the best of me for this one, right Callista? ^.- *Callista enters: 'Yea, sure, whatever...' :she leaves*
Callista: She doesn't own it!!! None of it!! ;_; So don't sue, she doesn't have any money anyway... *grumbles* why'd I go and be her muse anyways....
( Prologue )
His supreme majesty Lord Dermail hereby mandates all able-bodied females of the noble town of Ailra to attend a conference regarding the recent swarms of elves, dragons, dwarves, and other such nuisances. An elite group shall be formed at the conference to rid the continent of Ruocal of these bothersome creatures henceforth. This extreme honor shall be bestowed on select few. Thursday the Twenty-first of November, 202.
~ Sir Dekim and Council
*~*
It was the first anyone had heard of it. Certainly Lord Dermail couldn't have been upset so easily by a few wandering dragons... And yet the notice was posted upon every door in the town. As she re-read the notice she played with the ringlets falling from her auburn hair, pulled on her lightest slippers, and hustled out of the house as fast as her dress and petticoats would allow. She had to talk to the others.
*~*
"So it is decided then, ladies?" the woman with long, violet hair, pulled into a careful and simple up-do, asked with a gleam in her dark eyes.
"Yes," another said, blue eyes glinting in the soft light. "We will be the ones to go." Honey-colored ringlets falling from an intricate bun were brushed aside.
"Finally out of these restraining things," one more said. Extremely long hair, so blonde it was most nearly white. She shuffled her petticoats uncomfortably.
"If we are chosen." Eyes turned to one of the oldest women. Of the six girls, only one was allowed to wear her hair down as she pleased; it came with having a previous marriage and becoming a widow at such a young age. The twisting design of her dirty-blonde hair was certainly unusual, simple yet exciting.
"And why has he asked for only women?" ?" The other of the older women, not yet married; engaged as were the rest of them. Violet hair almost as long as her sister's, although the latter was the younger of the two, with eyes to match.
"And what about our men..." the last commented. "We are all to be married in a matter of months... Granted, none of us wish it in the least, but how are we to deal with that?" Six heads fell forward and ringlets sprung back as the women thought.
"We will deal with them when the time comes," the widow said. With a sad smile, "At least it's not your second time to be married." Crystalline droplets formed in her eyes as a clock struck ten. "Come now ladies, we must return home. Tomorrow we may just free ourselves from these confining prisons which we call lives."
:. *~*~* .: