OKAY! So I've been hammering with this idea for a while and finally decided to see how it went published. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE! If you liked it or think it should continue REVIEW! I wish I could read minds but I can't sadly and I really want to know what my readers think. Is it okay, AMAZING, or should it go straight to the garbish bin? Despite what anyone thinks good criticism actually helps a writer better themselves which is what I want.
Anyways.. ENJOY and R&R!
Disclaimer: Sadly all of Harry Potter belongs to JKR. I wish it were all mine though Lol!
Summary: Ever since the Dark Ages, none have ever laid their eyes on a Child of Albion, True-bloods, the very first witches and wizards ever known to man. Many say they fled and now hide in plain amongst the wizarding world, others that The Hunt killed them all. No one knows the actual truth and it was believed that no one ever would.
Ryaelle Crownwell was not just a Child of Albion but a Princess to her people. Taken at the age of ten to the Realm of Man by Albus Dumbledore she is a child on a mission. Her years at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry are an experiment for the better of Albion. Things tend t get a tad tricky though when surrounded by the likes of Sirius Black. Still, Ryaelle will not crumble nor will she fail. She is and always will be, a princess of Albion.
Princess Ryaelle Crownwell felt betrayed in the most horrible and painful way possible. How could her parents do such a thing and send her, their only daughter, to a Realm and world that had almost seen to the destruction of their people?
"It is your duty as a Princess of Albion to go, Ryaelle. This is for Albion and your people, your family."
Her mother's voice, Queen Imryll of Albion, had said voice firm and so unfeeling. It was as if sending her daughter to her ultimate end did not affect her at all. That or she truly believed she was in the right with her decision, and the Council along with Ryaelle and every other noble were wrong. Ryaelle knew this was wrong though. Even if this was her duty as a princess or for her people, she was being sent away. A lamb readied for execution and the 'honorable' wizard to take her holding the blade.
Ryaelle did not trust nor like this Albus Dumbledore. No matter what her mother or father said the man was a wizard. It was his kind that had driven Ryaelle's ancestor Darya The Survivor, the matriarch of the Crownwell line to flee with the scarce numbers that were left after The Hunt. He may act kind or polite but Ryaelle would not be fooled, wizards and witches were enemies. It was they who deserved to lose their magic. Them who should come crawling to Albion for aid, not the other way around.
"You, are a princess of Albion, your highness," Her caretaker voice, the Mistress Frenswit, rang in her head. "It is your duty to provide and protect. Sacrifice is a monarch's honor and their glory."
Sacrifice, Ryaelle thought with a huff as she stared out at the large lake that passed through the grounds of Elsmyre Palace, her home, the only one she had ever known. Thoughts turned darker at the thought of leaving for almost two years before she could come back for a few fleeting months. I'm being taken from my home. Stolen.
"What do you think of this one, Rya?" Ryaelle snapped from her own head turning to look back at her companion, Aila Jovarys.
Aila was a noble's daughter, the third most honorable house after the crown. She had also been by Ryaelle's side since they were in the nursery. She had long blonde hair that was twisted in many small braids at the front while the rest fell down her back. Light pink eyes that always seemed to shimmer with laughter and warmth.
Aila would be staying here. Her friend was not allowed to go for this was a mission for the Royal family. Once more Ryaelle was reminded of the word sacrifice.
It wasn't fair at all.
"Rya?" Aila called out to Ryaelle once more having gotten no answer to her question. Now, however, she looked confused and concerned. "Rya?"
"Hmm?"
"Are you thinking about leaving again?" Her friend asked and Ryaelle looked at her with a guilty expression, hand moving to play with her raven hair that was left undone and wild. "When was it that you leave?"
"Tomorrow," Ryaelle sighed both her and Aila deflating at the prospect of their time together being cut so short. This would be their very last day together before parting ways.
Nothing would ever be the same after today.
"Can I see the stone?" Ryaelle found herself asking much to Aila's delight as she handed the stone to the princess.
A smile creeping into her lips, violet eyes shining Ryaelle raised the stone in the air and watched it change colors. It had gone from a soft teal to the light gold with some silver lining around certain edges. The stone was also soft and smoothed to the touch which was indeed a rare trait, even in Albion. Aila had been right. The stone was beautiful even if one didn't hold it to the sun and see it's true splendor.
"Take them with you," Ryaelle heard Aila speak suddenly and turned to her friend who wore a brilliant smile on her face. "Take the stones with you, and when you feel you might miss home, or I or the princes then lift them to the light. You can have a piece of Albion with you, and never be alone."
Tears brimmed at Ryaelle's eyes looking at the red velvet bag where the rest of the stones were, and then back at Aila. "You won't mind?" She questioned attempting to keep from crying as princess did not weep in public. "These are your stones as well and I- Won't you wish to keep them?"
"I'm not the one leaving home silly," Aila pushed Ryaelle lightly also about to cry herself. "Besides, I have this." She motioned for their spot by the lake. "If I ever find myself missing you this is where I'll be. But I do expect you to teach me magic once you do return." The blonde was quick to add with a serious expression before the two friends broke into tearful laughter, and hugged.
"Everything I learn I'll teach you, I swear it," Ryaelle told her best friends as they pulled away, wiping their tears. "And I'll write every week. Mother and Father said it was expected of me anyways." The princess added with a shrug a painful tug pulling as her heart at the mention of the King and Queen. She still couldn't believe that this had been their decision. No one had forced them. They'd just decided that Magic could not die out in Albion and so they sent their child out to make sure it did not happen.
Sacrifice was a monarch's honor and glory. They must protect and provide. They are only second to the people's needs and wants and raise above the Common. Royals will be the example. Royals will lead with confidence, command, and pride. A lesson many did not learn until they were of age or succeeded the throne. Nevertheless, despite being the third child of her parents, and still so young, Ryaelle learned the meaning behind all those words.
Ryaelle was a princess with a duty and a mission. Her wants and needs did not matter if it was for the good of Albion. She couldn't just wear a crown, to be royal was more than that. Ryaelle had to earn the right for her title and privileges which she was born to.
"Your Highness! Lady Aila!" Mistress Frenwit's voice called out to the girls from far up the green fields surrounding the lake. Her plain dark purple dress sweeping around her in a fury as she hurried towards them.
Both girls raised to her feet immediately at the caretaker's presence, Aila being the one to grab a hold of their bag of stones. The Mistress Fernwit did not approve of the girl's collecting habits claiming that only the Common did such things. She was a strict long-faced woman who hardly ever smiled or seemed pleased with anything. However, Ryaelle had noted that she seemed to like being praised by the nobles due to her hard work instruction the princess and Aila. All of their accomplishments reflected on her and Mistress Fernwit ensured the girls knew as much when she demanded perfection.
The older woman stopped before her hands placed at her waist, just by the edge of her corset, as her dark blues yes scolded the girl's appearance, Ryaelle's especially. "Look at you. A couple of savages is what you appear, not Noble ladies of Albion," She began her rant with a scathing glare. "And you Princess Ryaelle do you think that wild hair and that dirty dress is proper of a Crownwell? Why if your parents could see you now-"
"My parents are to busy sending me away to care, Mistress Fernwitt," Ryaelle retorted cutting the older woman off glaring at the ground.
It seemed that the bold words had shocked Mistress Ferwitt for it took her quite a while before she reclaimed her wits. "Lady Aila, to your rooms immediately and change into a clean dress and fix your hair for the feast," She waved Aila away without removing her gaze from Ryaelle. "I will be checking your progress shortly so make haste." Aila did not move also staring at Ryaelle with a worried glance. "Make haste Lady Aila!"
Aila did leave then jumping into action at the rise of Mistress Fernwitt's voice. Nothing else was said until she was gone.
"Now you listen to me, young lady," Mistress Fernwitt started forcing Ryaelle to look at her by grasping her face with one hand and pulling it up. "Never, for one moment doubt the care and love the Queen and King feel for you." She spoke fiercely though the princess glared back it did not stop her, however. "You think they want you away from their protection? You are their daughter Ryaelle, their only daughter. Sending you away it's tearing them apart. They love you so much, child. You and your brothers are their world."
Mistress Fernwitt had released her face by now leaving Ryaelle to stare at her caretaker in shock as the woman showed more emotion this very moment than she ever had in years. "But they are also a Queen and King. Selfish may they wish to be they cannot. Magic most not die at Albion, do you understand?" Ryaelle nodded though she really did not know why magic in Albion must remain. "You are the only Royal child of age to attend the school on the Realm of Man. Albus Dumbledore has given his vow you will be safe and protected. Trust him, Ryaelle. Forget the past and thin of the future. Think of Albion's future."
"Sacrifice is a monarch's honor and glory," Ryaelle recited watching as Mistress Fernwitt nodded.
"There is a burden on your shoulder's Ryaelle," The older woman sighed looking at the young princess with sympathy. "But Crownwell's do not crumble, nor do they fall. Remember Ryaelle, you are a Crownwell. A princess of Albion."
Ryaelle nodded for the first time since the announcement of her mission accepting her fate. She was a princess and her people came first. She was the descendant of Darya the Survivor and many great Kings and Queens. Ryaelle would not crumble, nor will she fail on the mission she was given.