Here we go again! A bit of premise, this was inspired by a post I saw that put forth the prompt that two people keep getting reincarnated together, only instead of always falling in love they always hate each other.
The setting at first the Malory Isles, which I made up completely. I own everything about them and everything in them except for the dungeon. The first few chapters have only oc's, but Sinbad shows up for a little bit after that.
Feedback is welcome.
"They're here! They're here! Ganieda, they're here! We're gonna be late!"
'Ganieda' rolled her eyes but ran after the smaller girl, her hand held tightly in Clarine's. Of all the names she had ever had, Ganieda was one of her least favorites. It lacked the elegance of Desiree, the power of Aadya. The beauty of Aluna. Ganieda was, for someone called Athanasia, very flat.
Even Clarine had a cute quality to it.
For someone two years younger, she was already taller, and probably twice as strong. Heaven knew how tall she would get when she was fully grown.
"And who's fault is that?" Athanasia teased, poking her sister's side with her free hand, "You're the one who wouldn't get out of the water when I told you to."
"Hey!" Clarine yelped and stumbled, giving the elder time to overcome her with a wicked grin. Clarine was tall, but it was a fawn's limbs. All length and no grace.
Athanasia was different. She was the exact height she was meant to be, which was why she couldn't outrun anyone her age, or younger in Clarine's case, without using a few less-that-noble tricks.
It was hardly befitting the title of Princess, but courts were anything but fair. If you wanted to stand in one, you had to have a sword poised over everyone else's head, and be weary of the one that swung above your own.
"I wonder what they brought in this time," Athanasia mused, casting a glance to see Clarine had recovered and was bounding at her side once more. Her hair, wet and unbound, snapped into the wind.
"Whatever it is, I want the prettiest thing in there," Clarine declared, her eyes alight.
Athanasia smiled at her and made a sharp turn around a rock, darting into the tall, flowering shrubs that bordered the road. The purple flowers hid them from the guards, high enough that only children could make their way through unseen. Clarine would probably outgrow it in a year.
The smaller girl was right at her heels when Athanasia scrambled up the wall of the gate house that edged the postern, pulling herself along vines that almost didn't support her growing weight, until she could run along the roofs that shaded the ramparts. There was a flat space where the two slanting sides of the roof came together, forming a path, or a space to set displays for parties, and it was that that she lead her sister along.
It needed to be tarred again soon, Athanasia thought idly. The pair of them slid down the slant, dropping onto the roof of the stables and sliding down again, until they were jumping off of barrels of fresh water, into the soft dirt below. It took only a few more minutes of running until they had ducked around the cook, run around the guards, and were sliding into Athanasia's room.
A sharp voice said, "You're late!"
They turned as one to see Sebille, their nurse, scurrying towards them with clothes in one arm and a basket in the other. Clarine whined while Sebille stuffed them into the formal gowns and heavy gold jewelry, brushing out their hair forcibly. Clarine, as the second princess, was free of the awkward crown that Athanasia was forced into.
It was a funny thing, with a thin band that was tucked beneath her hair and a gold plate the size of her seven year old hand that sat out on the left half of her head. It was shapes less like a plate and more like a water drop that was not quite heavy enough to fall. Flowers had been etched into it delicately, and it was reserved only for the Crown Princess.
"Go, go," Sebille shooed them out as soon as she was done and the pair ran out, their feet tapping lightly on the stone floor under the long, swishing skirts. The nurse came after them, a little slower.
They turned into the corridor and slowed in front of the guards and their velvet polished armor. Only the best of the best were awarded armor, strong metals were a scarce commodity in the their island home.
The pair of princesses slowed their pace to a crawling march and stood a little taller, the way they'd been taught.
They stepped in, through the massive double doors and into the ornately decorated room. They passed over the finely woven carpets, walking with Clarine three steps behind until the pair was could curtsey to their royal parents. Sebille dipped lowered, not meeting the eyes of the rulers.
Queen Loudine was a beautiful woman, graceful in all ways, in every movement and each soft, light word. Her smiles were muted and her skin was soft. Her words touched the air with as much effect as a feather. Her fine white dress was stretched across her stomach, let out to make room for her womb.
Her father was another matter. Albion wore power like most men wore clothes. It wrapped around his broad shoulders and settled upon his brow alongside the gold etched crown. The one that would one day sit on her own head.
She took her seat beside her mother, on an ornate chair carved of stone and painted in gold. Clarine sat to her left, her own throne gilded in silver. The girls sat perfectly, backs straight and chins lifted.
Light poured in from the open arches of windows that sat on the balconies above their heads. It gleamed off of the armor of the guards and the jewelry of the nobles that stood around them. The door opened at once, swinging to allow in a parade that belonged in a disney movie. Tightly woven baskets were filled with colorful shells, gold jingled and live stock was lead in. Hounds and ponies were paraded in front of the royals, along with the smallest elephants that Athanasia had ever seen.
It was just further proof that they were island people that the wildlife was so small. Unless it was that way in all of this world, but Athanasia doubted that highly.
She had seen this display seven times before, and she knew she would see it again, so she didn't pay too much attention to lavish gifts to the King of Kings, or the compliments paid to him. It wasn't until an old woman hobbled up, her hair lightened into mint, that Athanasia started to pay actual attention.
She wasn't in fine clothes, but she was followed by a procession of people that Athanasia had never seen before. The rest of the gathering parted like the red sea around them, leaving a wide berth.
The woman was flanked by three girls in front of the rest of the party. All of them were dressed in neutral grey, accented by white metal jewelry with black gems set into them.
"Who are they?" Clarine whispered loudly to Sebille, who hushed her quickly. Athanasia frowned. Sebille was normally very good about explaining things to the princesses. A glance at her parents revealed that Loudine had grown paler and Albion's jaw had tightened. The rest of the attendants hand started shifting uncomfortably, and the visiting nobles were busy keeping their children silent without taking their eyes off the newcomers.
Whoever this woman was, she had power here. And power, in a world with Kings and Queens, was everything.
"Great King Albion," her voice carried like a clap of thunder, "Great Queen Loudine, First Princess of Carleon Ganieda, and Second Princess Clarine. My daughters and I thank you for your welcome."
It was all a formality. The woman's eyes, dark brown with the beginnings of white starting to film over, locked onto the First Princess, who sat a little straighter.
"Queen Caelia," Albion's voice was stiffer than usual. "I am unaccustomed to seeing you without your King." There was, Athanasia had noticed, no Queen present without a King, other than Caelia.
"My son was unable to attend. In fact, that is the reason we are here. To cast a warning to all those who might venture to our Necropolis by way of the Wide Ocean," she cast her voice out. Athanasia's interest grew. "A great keep has appeared in the cove that leads entrance to our home for the Wide Ocean. Those who go near experience terrible visions. Those who enter, have not returned. Including my son, the King."
You could have heard a pin drop.
"Magic."
Albion's voice was chipped ice. A shiver ran down Athanasia's spine and she looked straight ahead, measuring her breaths. She hadn't even known that magic was a thing in this world.
"Yes," Caelia agreed. "Magic that stole my son and a dozen of our Priests."
Albion did not stand abruptly, he did not shout. He turned his eyes to the armored man to his left, the Guard Master. Athanasia did not know his name.
"Take a dozen of your best Cavaliers. I want to know what it is, and I want it gone."
The Guard Master bowed to him and turned to leave, only to stop short when Cealia spoke again, her voice harsh.
"Were you not listening? Anyone who goes in never returns. You send those men to their deaths, for no purpo-"
"If I send them to their deaths," he cut her off brutally. "Then they will be within the arms of the Dead Wings."
Caelia's mouth snapped shut and her eyes blazed. Murmurs erupted around them and Athanasia turned wide eyes on her father. Disrespecting those who ruled a necropolis was a mistake for anyone. Caelia drew herself up to a meager height.
"Your self obsession and disrespect will serve you ill in the next world, Great King," she hissed. A number of attending nobles stepped back and dipper a looping V across their chest.
"And your threats will do harm to your daughters in this world," Albion retorted. No one in the room breathed. Tension sparked like lightning.
Caelia did not dip a bow. She tilted her head, a dark look in the lines of her face, and swept away into the neutral sea that followed after her.
They vanished in the door, light shining off of white gold and black obsidian. It was a long, breathless minute before the next merchant stepped up, offering to Clarine a tiny elephant decorated in gold.
It was that day that Athanasia learned what her father feared most. The same thing she coveted and mourned.
Magic.
The first time Athanasia laid eyes on the necropolis she was ten.
It was beautiful in its own grim way. The island was centered around a grand mountain, as most islands were, and populate with tall trees and thick shrubbery. The part that stood out the most was the buildings that surrounded the mountain. And that was only if one overlooked the massive, foreboding sphere that sat in the center of the crescent islands' bay.
Built side to side, the city of the dead lifted above the rest of the island, sprawling over half of it. The architecture was fine and kept free of dirt and animals. Each structure was built with a gaping door that was edged with fine molding, and a family name placed above it in various stones.
Flowers and jewelry were laid in front of the tombs, and from her entry to the grave of Queen Chelinde of Huel she could assume that they were all set up to have a crypt with names scrawled across it in fine gems. For the Queen they had inlayed carefully cut stone of a fine green that danced in fire light.
Athanasia leaned closer to Sebille. Very quietly she asked, "What is that?"
The nurse looked to make sure they weren't being watched. When no one looked at her she said, "Kornerupine. It is the crown jewel of Huel."
Athanasia nodded and turned her white Lily around in her fingers. Clarine, to her right, held a black Tulip. Everything was balanced like that. There was an even number of black and white flowers. The people in attendance were dressed all in plain grey robes.
In front of the conglomeration, one that consisted of family, serfs, and fellow nobles only, stood Caelia. Queen of the Necropolis. She held a box a little over two feet across, inside of which lay the charred bones of the Queen of Huel. A finely crafted ossuary with flowers carved into its sides where it was not inlaid with more Kornerupine.
Athanasia had learned on the boat ride over that those outside the Bone Court were forbidden from knowing how the corpses were prepared. It was a sacred ritual and should outsiders intrude it would ruin it, and the souls would be trapped in the bones.
Athanasia knew better. The only person who's soul was trapped anywhere was her own.
She shifted closer to her nurse when the Queen of the Necropolis looked right at her. It was unnerving for one who would never see the afterlife to be under scrutiny of those who were connected to it. A hand touched her head and she glanced up.
Sebille was still very young. She couldn't be more than twenty five, if that. She was pretty, her hair the color of mint and her eyes a few shades darker. She was pretty too, her face was soft and still held some of her baby fat, from an easy life in the palace, she supposed. Or it was just what her body held onto.
Sebille was kind too. She answered almost any of Athanasia's numerous questions. She had a million and a half and Sebille was convinced her ' 'Eda' would know more than she did soon. Athanasia didn't have the heart to tell her that she already had 200 lifetimes worth of knowledge. All she needed Sebille for was to care about her and tell her about her new culture.
A culture that, apparently, included charring bones before placing them into a family crypt.
It made sense, she supposed as she lay her flower on top of the mausoleum. Islands only had so much room. Sea burials polluted the water, which couldn't be allowed in a society based on fish and plants. There wasn't room for graves the way they were traditionally used, and those weren't that good for environments either.
A necropolis wasn't a choice that Athanasia would have made. They would run out of room too eventually, and the people who had to live around it were surrounded by the dead.
A hand slipped into hers and Athanasia looked over at Clarine. The eight year old looked frightened.
She squeezed her sister's hand. "It's okay," she promised. "Death isn't the end."
Indeed, it was only the beginning.