ZOMFG!!!
Yup, that's what you're all thinking. I updated?! o.O
But, Gere, we thought this story was DEAD! Well, it's not : P. We just went on a nice eight-month hiatus.
Like I've cautioned before, I'm unpleasantly ADHD. You may prepare your pitchforks since that's really all the penance I can offer for the delay.
Happily, though, we have an UPDATE : D! As always, I want to hear you thoughts and ideas. You all are my editors. Tell me what works and what doesn't : ).
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The child stared doubtingly, almost accusingly at his mother.
"This is really what you want?" he demanded. "You're going to sacrifice yourself to that pathetic human? Just so you can get your revenge on King Duzell?!"
The child gazed imploringly, angrily up at his mother's face. She smiled softly without a word, her face shrouded in an emotion the child couldn't understand. Her full red lips parted in exhale and then she was gone.
"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard!" The child called, a last attempt to drown his pain in false bravado.
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After a very unpleasant and not terribly restful night, Duzell and Phelios met with the sending off party in the front of the castle's inner gates. Duzell was visibly sulking, refusing to converse with anyone, including his misleadingly chipper older brother. Vord, Seiliez, and Lady Ramia's Chancellor had gathered to see them off as official La Naan representatives.
Laphiji was standing by the stable boy, checking over the horses in preparation for their journey. The sound of horse hooves and carriage wheels drew everyone's attention to the gate. A respectably expensive carriage rolled into the court. A footman jumped down from his post and opened the door for Lord Forden and handed down his adopted daughter.
Phelios was surprised to see that the girl had dressed sensibly, even modestly. She wore a very plain, very brown traveling dress made of durable material. Her shoulders were clothed in an eye-matching green jacket and her hands were sheathed in leather riding gloves. It was remarkably sensible for a girl brought up in a noble house. He silently wondered if she'd had help picking it out.
The footman carried her luggage over to the stable boy, where it was added to the packhorse's burden.
Duzell had gone from sulky to hostile. He scowled openly at the girl, making no secret of his disdain. She and her father paid their respects to the royals and joined the small gathering. Pleasantries were exchanged between those socially adept enough to manage them. Satisfied with the state of the horses, Laphiji glided up to the little cluster. Lord Forden turned to him and bowed.
"I have written a letter to Her Majesty explaining and begging her pardon for my daughter's imposition. Thisbe carries it with her," he informed Laphiji who curtly nodded in response.
Thisbe was standing to her father's side like a cool, deceptively demure statue. She did not look Duzell's way once despite the holes his glare was burning into her head. When Lord Forden moved, she tilted her face up so he could kiss her on the forehead and bid hi farewell as he returned to the carriage. The footman swung back up to his place and the driver flicked the reins. The carriage rolled out of the court the way it had come.
Vord glanced at the half-risen sun. He turned back to his second oldest brother.
"You better go," he said with an easy grin. He turned to the princes and his smile widened. "Falan sends her love, but we thought it best to let her and Ranee have a lie in. You two take care." He shook each of his nephews' hands in turn. The stable boy approached, leading the horses. Phelios said goodbye to his uncles and the Chancellor and swung up onto the horse. Duzell stonily mounted without even glancing the delegations way. He stared angrily at his horse's neck.
The stable boy produced a stepping stool and held out his hand to help Thisbe up. She didn't blink twice at him and swung up onto the horse so that she was sitting astride the animal. Her skirt rode up her leg a bit, revealing leggings and riding boots. She received some surprised, even askance, looks, but seemed unaffected by the attention. Duzell still stared determinedly at his horse.
Laphiji offered a nod of his head in farewell, his eyes lingering on Seiliez who did not meet his eyes. Then, without a word, he nimbly mounted his own horse, taking the lead for the packhorse. Vord called out a last farewell and the odd traveling party departed.
The first day was uncomfortably and determinedly mute. Even Phelios held his tongue. Mostly because his brother was brooding, Laphiji was not a conversationalist in general, and he felt uncharacteristic genuine dislike for the deceptive Lady Thisbe. She didn't seem bothered by the silent treatment. Phelios wondered what would upset the ever-composed girl.
Laphiji called camp just before early evening. He and the princes quickly and efficiently erected a tent for the lady, cared for the horses, and boiled water. Thisbe, quiet and seemingly composed, practically collapsed to the ground after dismounting. She looked about to pass out from exhaustion. Laphiji diverted his attention to her briefly to confirm her health and then disappeared into the forest.
Duzell moodily poked at the fire he and Phelios had coaxed to life. Lady Thisbe sat across the fire and resumed her practice of staring unwaveringly at the youngest prince. Phelios sunk to the ground next to his brother. They both ignored the unwanted girl across from them, sitting in silence for a while.
"You never apologized to Yuujel," Phelios announced abruptly. Duzell lifter his eyes from the flames to look at his brother, the most social action he had exhibited the entire day. Phelios returned the look and continued. "You put him in the hospital. I heard Lady Lenee was quite distraught." They both knew 'distraught' was code for 'jumping mad'. Duzell didn't even smirk.
"He'll live," Duzell muttered blithely, feeling more indifference for Yuujel's plight than guilt. Phelios sighed at the response. Duzell really was remorseless, maybe even cruel towards people he was not immediately involved with.
"You'll have to write a letter of apology," Phelios elaborated. He sent Duzell a meaningful look. "Dad'll make you." Duzell shrugged, still immersed in self-pity and anger. His father's displeasure was the last thing on his mind.
Phelios looked about to continue on this thread when Laphiji returned. He had two rabbits. Phelios noticed that his mysterious uncle hadn't taken a bow with him. He began skinning them. Phelios had to look away, slightly uncomfortable. He glanced toward Thisbe to see if she was repelled like any court lady should be. She was staring almost blankly at Laphiji. She hadn't even flinched.
The rabbits were placed on the fire and served with potatoes from the bags. The dinner was as silent as the journey had been. Phelios didn't attempt conversation again. Laphiji cleared dinner and doused the fire. Thisbe retired to her tent and the men stretched out under the stars.
Dawn came and they set out again. The pace was moderately slower and they took more frequent breaks than the day before. Laphiji appeared to have adjusted the pace for the lady's benefit. The conversation was, again, sparse, but Phelios seemingly unable to cope with the continued silence began a mostly one-sided coolly polite conversation with Thisbe. He stuck to her family, their manor, and if she'd ever been to the capital before.
It was when they stopped for noon break that Thisbe finally approached Duzell.
He glowered at her as she gracefully sunk to the ground next to him and almost moved to stand up. Her sharp gaze stopped him and he grudgingly resigned himself to the inevitability of this confrontation.
"I am sorry to have displeased you, my lord," she began. Duzell whirled on her, white bangs skittering over flashing green eyes.
"What is your problem?" he demanded, hissing his fury. She shook her head slowly, as if disappointed in his response.
"You have changed so much," she said softly, staring wistfully into the trees. Duzell bristled.
"Even… Even if I was… who you think I am, I'm human! I'm a descendant of St. Phelios, second in line for the throne! I can draw the holy sword Sida," he lashed out. Thisbe turned her head again, a small frown marring her face. Duzell took this as a good sign. "I have no memories of a past life," he continued. "I'm clearly not the same as… as I was. As he was. You're chasing a ghost, Rishas," he said, using the girl's original name for the first time.
She turned icy cold green eyes on him. He did not recoil from her, a hidden and inexplicable confidence bolstering him against the frightening stare. He instinctively knew she could not defeat him.
"The great King I loved is dead," she admitted, almost in a whisper, "and when I discovered that I thought you inferior and unsuitable, but when I went with Sharlen… I was surprised to find that I still loved you. It was… perplexing… You were no longer the aloof, cruel King. You were… tamed to her hand. Still I found I loved you." Her eyes grew hard suddenly, accusing. "I spent three years in Hell waiting for you, my lord. I've loved you for two life times. I am unable to shake your hold and I have decided that this time I will have you by any means possible. I will not be fate's victim again," she finished.
Duzell stared blankly at her, without pity.
"I have no idea what you're talking about at all," he said coldly. Thisbe lowered her eyes briefly before raising them to his again.
"You don't need to, my lord. It does not sway me," she said softly, not dropping his merciless eyes. She almost smiled. Three lives and there were still certain parts of him that remained unchanged.
"We're heading out," Phelios called from where he and Laphiji stood by the horses, drawing the two teens attention. As Duzell and Thisbe swung onto the saddles Phelios eyed his brother curiously, planning to extract the details of the visibly tense conversation he and Thisbe had been engaged in.
Laphiji led them on, looking like a resentful mother duck with her forced charges trailing persistently behind.
They trundled into Pheliosta castle just as the sun was setting. Balan met them at the front doors, panting and wheezing from his mad dash to greet them. After regaining his breath he bowed low to the princes and their uncle.
"Your Majesties," he said, rising from his bow, "welcome back. I am pleased that you have arri…" he trailed off, his jaw falling slack and his eyes bulging. There was an expectant silence as the Chancellor gawked. "Y-Your H-Highness…" he blustered. Duzell testily shifted his weight from side to side.
"There was an… accident, Balan," Phelios interceded, attempting to soothe the alarmed man. "Prince Duzell is otherwise unharmed," he assured. Balan stared blankly before he remembered himself. He suddenly colored, clearing his throat nervously.
"Of… Of course, Your Highness. I, um, regret to inform you that Her Majesty and General Darres have been called away…" Balan attempted to recover; still casting startled glances at the altered prince.
"Mom ran off again?" Duzell interpreted gruffly. Balan colored even more and he suddenly developed a keen interest in the mosaic lining the walls. While he was looking around, his eyes landed on Laphiji and he visibly jumped.
"Lord Laphiji! Thank you for escorting the princes. Will you be staying long?" he asked deferentially.
"The night," Laphiji replied. He was eager to drop his nephews and their charming companion. He knew his mother wanted him to have children, but he honestly couldn't picture himself interacting with a child on a regular basis.
Balan nodded, waving a maid over and giving her instructions. She curtsied and hurried off along the corridor. He turned back to the arrivals with a smile when he noticed the quiet beauty lurking behind them.
"Ah…" he prompted, drawing attention to the girl.
There was an awkward silence while Thisbe waited for someone to introduce her. Phelios, after a brief hesitation, plastered on his patent smile and stepped back to allow the lady through.
"Balan, this is Lady Thisbe of La Naan. She will be staying with us for a time, I believe," he announced congenially. Thisbe curtsied.
"Your Grace, forgive my imposition," she said demurely. Balan smiled, bowing in return.
"Of course, my lady." The maid returned, standing to the right of the Chancellor. He cleared his throat again. "Lady Thisbe, Sir Laphiji, this is Bess. She'll show you two your rooms." Bess curtsied again.
"This way please, Sir, Lady." She led them down the hall and around a corner, out of sight.
"We're going to bed too, Balan," Phelios announced, grabbing his brother's arm and hauling him in the direction of their rooms. "Good night."
"Yes. Good night, Your Majesties," Balan called as the two royals disappeared into the confines of the castle.
--
The next morning saw Laphiji making a very swift departure from the palace, staying barely long enough to not appear excessively rude. Phelios saw him off. Duzell had rolled out of bed and gone mysteriously missing.
Balan gave Thisbe a tour of the castle. She refused to reveal her purpose for traveling to Pheliosta, stating that it was a delicate matter that must be discussed with the Queen first. Balan was content, even pleased with the formality of her excuse.
Around noon, it occurred to Phelios to look for his absent brother. No one had seen Duzell since early that morning. The fair prince wandered the grounds, checking the practice grounds first, then the courtyard Duzell frequented, the library, the kitchen… If Duzell was still on the palace grounds, he was doing a commendable job of hiding.
Phelios concluded with more than a little agitation that Duzell has fled the castle. Not the best of ideas, considering their attack on the North Road little more than a week ago and his recent changes. The desire for solitude was all well and good, but Duzell had no business being in the open when his mind and powers were conceivably a ticking time bomb.
Phelios swung by the guardroom to inform Jill and Krai, who spent a good three minutes panicking over General Darres anticipated reaction, of his brother's absenteeism and the three split up to search the town and surrounding farmlands.
After asking around, Phelios was finally able to pick up on his 'tall, white hair, green eyes' brother's trail. He had been worried that he wouldn't be recognized as the second prince, allowing him to slip unnoticed into the crowd. However, it turned out that long white hair was almost as attention grabbing as the second prince wandering around unaccompanied.
He traced his brother to a side road on the edge of town and after inspecting the area found his errant sibling.
Duzell was sitting on a wide hilltop overlooking an orchard. The faint shadows of mountains could be seen in the distant north. Phelios was surprised to realize he recognized the spot, but he could not place where from the memory came.
Duzell looked over his shoulder at the sound of boots on grass. Phelios strode up until he was standing behind Duzell, his hands on his hips in mock disapproval. Duzell made a face that implied he didn't much care what Phelios thought. Phelios gave up and folded his arms instead.
"Could we wrap up the pity party sometime this month?" Phelios asked, more teasing than malicious. Duzell scowled.
"It's not a pity party," he half snapped. Phelios shook his head.
"She's not going away and if it really bugs you we can dye it," Phelios scolded as if relaying a very simple concept to an overreacting child. Duzell turned to look out at the orchard. He drew his knees up, folding his arms over them and resting his chin on top. His white hair fell unbound around him.
"I don't want to think about it…" he began.
"But you can't stop," Phelios finished, dropping easily onto the grass beside Duzell. Duzell pressed his lips together and ducked his head so that it was his forehead resting on his arms, hiding his face.
"Thisbe… Batty as she is, it sounds less and less like she's making up stories," Duzell mumbled. Phelios nodded, leaning his chin on his hand.
"I agree. She's too lucid and manipulative to be truly insane," Phelios commented brightly. Duzell raised his head back up, shooting his brother a lack luster glare. He seemed more tired than annoyed. Phelios sighed, reaching out to grab his little brother's shoulder. Duzell looked at him in response and green and blue eyes met.
"You are who you are now, Duzie," Phelios began confidently. "Whatever is going to happen, will happen. We can't foresee it, so we can't do anything about it. You can brood until your eyeballs fall out, but it's not going to change anything." Phelios paused, cocking his head to the side and smiling a small smile that reached his bright blue eyes. "You've dealt with worse than an overzealous suitor and I can't imagine the hair really bothers you. You're too grungy to be the vain sort," Phelios concluded.
Duzell narrowed his eyes and shrugged his brother's hand off. Phelios didn't seem bothered in the least. Instead, he smiled fondly. The air around the tall prince seemed to be less oppressive than it had been just a moment before.
"Yeah, alright," Duzell mumbled with pseudo grouchiness.
He rested his chin on his arms again, looking out at the orchard. Phelios took the opportunity to study the little hilltop in greater detail. It really was elusively familiar.
"Where are we?" he asked, returning his attention to his brother. Duzell flicked his eyes Phelios' way, but didn't move.
"Mom and Dad used to bring us here for picnics during the summer. When we were little," he explained. A look of sudden understanding bloomed on Phelios visage.
"Oh! I knew I recognized it. Hmm… I remember. Back when Sir Galahad was alive. Grandma and everyone would come out here." Phelios' face abruptly split into a wide grin. "You and Mom made a kite and you rolled all the way down the hill because you weren't watching your footing," Phelios recalled with glee. Duzell snorted indignantly.
"And you cried like a girl when that bee stung you," Duzell fired back. Phelios winced at the recollection, absently rubbing his leg, soothing a phantom wound.
"By the way," Phelios said loudly, clearly pushing for a change in topic, "what were you talking about with Thisbe? More marriage plans?" Phelios teased.
Instead of the ire and grumpiness Phelios expected, Duzell's brow drew into a clear display of confusion.
"I… I'm not sure. I didn't understand half of what she was going on about," he admitted.
"Past life stuff?" Phelios guessed.
"Pretty much," Duzell shrugged. "The only thing I caught was that she's in love with me and has a boulder on her shoulder because of it," he confessed. The confused expression was still painted across his brow, a slight frown tugging at his full lips.
"Do you like her?" Phelios asked without preamble. Duzell snapped his head around, eyes wide with shock.
"No!" Duzell snapped vehemently. Phelios looked pensive for a moment.
"I admit, she doesn't make a very good first impression, but we don't really know her…" he mused with his usual diplomatic consideration.
"First impression?!" Duzell sat up straight. For a second, Phelios thought his twin was going to jump to his feet in outrage. "She conned her way into marrying me! She's… She's…" Whatever she was, the words need to describe it were apparently beyond Duzell.
Phelios smirked, commenting, "You're not a married man just yet." Duzell didn't even seem to hear him. He was still trying to articulate just what kind of vile Thisbe was. "She's gorgeous, too. Seems the loyal sort as well," Phelios added. Duzell was seething.
"Yeah, in the creepy stalker way!" Duzell ran a hand through his snowy hair in agitation. "Look, I know nothing about her and what I do know says she's not even remotely trustworthy. She's a vampire assassin for all we know," Duzell insisted.
"A vampire assassin?" Phelios chuckled, causing Duzell to scowl. "Really?"
"You know what I mean," Duzell snapped defensively.
"It's kind of romantic if you think about it. A woman chasing her love through three lifetimes," Phelios grinned broadly, leaning back on his hands and tilting his head innocently.
"No it's not and she wasn't a woman," Duzell groused. Phelios raised a blond eyebrow.
"You.. and a guy?" He practically giggled. "It's what you deserve, the way you're on about Seiliez and Laphiji," Phelios snickered.
His laughter died in his throat when he caught sight of his brother's bleached pale face. Duzell was gripping his knees in near terror. He looked… afraid.
"Du?" Phelios tried softly, leaning cautiously toward his shaken twin. "What…?"
"She never told me that," Duzell whispered. "She never said she was a man, but I… I know she was…" Duzell's eyes snapped imploringly to his older brother. Phelios quickly took Duzell's shoulder again.
"Du. Duzie. It doesn't mean anything," Phelios gently shook the shoulder under his hand. "It doesn't mean anything. Nothing's changed." Phelios licked his lips nervously when this didn't seem to calm his distressed twin.
"Du, look at me." Unfocused green eyes wandered to Phelios' face. Phelios smiled weakly. "Du, you know when you asked me if I… remembered anything…" Phelios trailed off hesitantly. Duzell's eyes went from distant to hyper focused. The shoulder under Phelios' hand grew taught. The fair prince's eyes flickered skittishly to the side. "I… There was a woman… She was," his gaze grew dreamy, "beautiful... Long soft black hair, tall and thin, and so pale…" His voice trembled slightly and he squeezed Duzell's shoulder.
Duzell was staring incredulously at his twin. He was shocked, feeling almost betrayed by his brother's secret. Phelios opened and closed his mouth a few times. Duzell had never seen his charming, articulate brother at a loss for words. Phelios closed his eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath.
"Her eyes…" he tried, slowly opening his lids to stare at his brother. "I think she was a vampire," he breathed, hand clutching convulsively at Duzell's sleeve.
The hush that overtook the hilltop was deafening. The sound of the wind and the birds seemed multiplied to an almost unbearable level. Duzell was staring openly at Phelios. The crown prince had his eyes averted in shame.
"You didn't tell me," Duzell whispered into the silence, his voice unable to mask his hurt. Phelios' hand slid limply from his brother's shoulder. Phelios seemed to be gathering his resolve.
"I was afraid… It was frightening," Phelios admitted, sending Duzell a beseeching look. Duzell nodded slowly. He certainly understood that particular fear.
"At least your memories are human," Duzell said after a moment, smiling ruefully. He'd meant it as a joke, but it made the other crumple in shame again.
"It's not knowing I was Saint Phelios," the fair boy smirked, "I don't think that's so bad, but… It's her. That memory of her." Phelios raised a hand to his temple. Duzell studied his brother, slightly bemused.
"It's just a vampire. Phelios fought off hordes of them. It's not surprising he'd remember one or two of them," Duzell consoled. Phelios shook his head in denial, his face contorting in a grimace.
"No. Not this one. She was important. She was special." Phelios sighed, lowering his hand. Duzell was still studying him intently, his own terror seeming to have passed with the crown prince's admission. "I know she was, but… That's what doesn't make sense. Saint Phelios killed vampires, so why would he…" Phelios made a strangled grunt of frustration. Duzell pursed his lips.
"So Goody Great Ancestor got it on with an undead," Duzell stated blithely. Phelios gasped, looking genuinely scandalized for once. Duzell smirked. "Phelios, as everyone's so fond of telling me lately, who you were in a past life is not who you are now. I can't even really see what your problem is. You're twin brother's a former vampire King," Duzell pointed out. Phelios was the one curiously studying the other this time, his head tilted to one side.
"Surely you see the paradox," Phelios began cautiously. "It's almost blasphemy. Saint Phelios and a vampire," he egged. Duzell leveled his frank gaze at the slim prince.
"I don't see how it's that strange. Clearly humans can love vampires. Otherwise we wouldn't have Miss Groupie gracing us with her delightful company. And…" Duzell suddenly blushed. "And you, uh, would still, erm, love me if I became a vampire," Duzell muttered uneasily.
Phelios expression softened immediately. He leaned over throwing his arms tightly around his brother and pulling him close in a hug. Phelios rubbed his cheek against his little brother's shoulder even as the boy struggled to free himself.
"You're right, little bro. I'll always love you. No matter what." He pulled back to smile sweetly up at the flushed face obscured by white bangs. "I'd cast 'La Gamme' for you, Duzie," Phelios vowed. Duzell squirmed at the words, suppressing a shiver.
Phelios squeezed him one last time before releasing his captive sibling. Duzell hopped immediately to his feet as if afraid his brother would try it again. Phelios smiled sunnily up at him.
"I'm going back," Duzell announced, turning on his heel, white hair trailing behind as he marched away. Phelios smirked, rising to his feet and dusting grass from his pants. Mission Accomplished.
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