"Well, you know what I heard," Meghana said with a grin, "I heard she
used to work Red Moon houses."
"No!" Luthvian recoiled in horror, her black wings rustling with distaste.
"I don't know why you sound so disgusted sis," Daemonar smirked, "you'll probably end up there someday."
Luthvian scowled in response, but didn't say anything. One day she would show him, but today wasn't that day.
"Oh the poor girl," Morton mused thoughtfully, "she must have been so miserable."
"Well, I think your all jumping to conclusions," Chlandra stated, waving her fork for emphasis, "All we have to go off of is what Meghana heard."
They were at SaDiablo Hall and what was supposed to be just another routine dinner had instead turned into the announcement of Jaenelle's apprentice. The five people currently debating the apprentice's former status were the youngest present, as they were the descendents of Witch's first circle. Because this statement seemed to fit so well, the small group had earned the nickname 'the second generation'.
Meghana, daughter of Morghann and Khary, was probably the most upset over having to attend this evening. It was well known she had wanted the apprenticeship for herself, and her amber eyes would continually shift to the chair on Jaenelle's right, where the apprentice would sit when announced. She was continually clasping her Birthright Green jewel, as if attaining comfort from within the stone.
Daemonar was the oldest(and wearing Red, the strongest) of the second generation. He was the comic relief of the group; he was continually teasing some member of the group, his favorite being his sister. Luthvian, at 12, was the youngest member. She was an Opal jeweled witch with a short temper, her favorite victim of this temper being Daemonar.
Morton, a sapphire jeweled warlord, was the son of Gabrielle and Chaosti. His lean tall figure and spiked silver hair clearly reflected the Dea al Mon ancestry, though his attitude did not. He was the laid back, cool, calm, collected, type; the one least likely to take Daemonar's teasing seriously.
And lastly was Chlandra, adopted daughter of Karla. Karla had never married, but had taken the Birthright Green jeweled girl under her wing when her parents(who had been in Karla's service) had tragically died in a fire. Karla had been a mother figure ever since. It was well known, however, that she and Meghana didn't get along that well, and even now the two girls were shooting ugly glances at each other across the table.
"Well, whatever she is, I'll get to knock her down in the dirt tomorrow. Dad shays she'll have to start weapons training immediately," Luthvian stated, excited at the prospect of beating someone new in the sword.
"We'll find out soon enough," Meghana said sourly crossing her arm across her chest, "It looks as if the girl is about to be announced."
Jaenelle had risen to her feet, and was motioning for silence which she quickly got.
"Friends, honored guests, and politicians," she began with a sly smile, "As you know, this chair on my right has been empty for far too long. . .event though I was surrounded by exceptional youths," she shot a glance at the second generation, "however, I believe I have found the girl who will become my heir, my apprentice. So without further ado, I introduce to you Raine, Witch's heir!"
The double doors behind Jaenelle were opened and everyone got their first look at Witch's apprentice. Raine stepped through smoothly, and her appearance made everyone's jaw drop. Clothed in a short, tight dress that left nothing to the imagination, with tall red heels to match, she obviously had belonged to a House. Shooting Daemon an 'I told you so' look, she bowed to Jaenelle(the back of her dress rising a few more inches) and took her seat. Meghana shot a horrified Chlandra a superior look, her mouth twisting into a bitter smile.
"You're going to knock her in the dirt tomorrow?" Daemonar asked his sister.
Luthvian nodded, unable to respond.
"You're so damn lucky," he responded, craning his neck to get a better look.
* * * * *
"Daemon," Jaenelle reprimanded sharply, catching him in the act of shooting her apprentice a dirty look, "Why are you being so childish?"
"Because," he said coolly, "I don't trust a strong witch that simply marches into SaDiablo Hall and becomes, in an instant, the heir to everything you stand for. Maybe I'm being overprotective, but 1500 years of experience shouldn't go unheeded."
"Do you think I made a mistake then?" Jaenelle replied, her eyes narrowing with concentration, "I mean, her appearance certainly could reflect more. . .pride in herself, but other than that. . ."
"You know I would support you in anything," her said sincerely," And I don't think you made a bad choice persay. . .What that-?"
His statement cut off as he felt something solid hit the side of his head. Looking at the floor, he saw a small pea rolling on the ground. Swiveling around angrily, he glared over Jaenelle's shoulder at Raine, who was hurriedly burying her remaining peas under her potatoes. Feeling Daemon's gaze on her, she looked up and shrugged, giving him an innocent smile.
Grinding his teeth irritably, daemon knew Raine had gotten the better of him again.
* * * * *
Raine stumbled to the door of her room, slightly proud of the fact that she'd only gotten lost twice in the maze that was the Hall. Looking forward to simply collapsing on her bed, she was surprised to see a short witch already waiting for her. Rising, the woman that had gray streaks in her tangled black hair said, "Greetings Raine, Lady of the Light," she paused, then continued, "But you are not of the Light are you? However you are not a Daughter of Darkness either, so that is good," the witch mused, "You hang at a knife's edge, one motion to either side will determine the fortunes of all."
Raine stood speechless, unable to move or think, but the woman saved her the trouble, "I wove a web for you, would you care to hear the contents of the weaving?"
Finally, the young girl found her voice.
"Do I know you?" she asked softly.
The witch laughed in delight, a laugh ringing with the madness of the Twisted Kingdom.
"Indeed. Once, in my future, in your past, we did meet, but you do not remember me I think," another pause, "I am Tersa, Tersa the Weaver."
It was Raine's turn to pause, trying to comprehend anything this broken witch was saying to her. Giving up, she asked, "you wove a web for me?"
"Yes, you would want to hear what it spoke of?"
"Very much so."
Tersa took on a faraway look, her voice changing dramatically as she spoke, "Darkness and Light surround you, each trying to place a claim. A decision of immense importance waits for you, the Equilibrium is failing. Will you be Raine the Savior, or the Tyrant? The Wise? The Purifier? The Tainted? Will you rule a kingdom of roses or thorns? On one side all fear you and one loves you. and on the other, all love you and one fears you. Is it to be justice or ambition? Your web is of questions, no answers. But you do bring the attention of the Dark here child, evil follows you to Kaeleer; you bring danger to us all."
"You saw all this?" Raine demanded, "what does it mean?"
"I am a Weaver," Tersa said stiffly, "not an Interpreter. All I know is that the webs are never wrong, but the ones who fulfill them sometimes are."
The apprentice was stung by Tersa's words, without quite knowing why. Her eyes followed the broken witch to the door, but she turned around arubtly at the last minute.
"One more thing," Tersa said, her eyes showing signs of slipping into madness.
"Yes?" Raine asked weakly.
"Welcome to the Great Hall," she grinned, and with a bob of the head, left the room.
"No!" Luthvian recoiled in horror, her black wings rustling with distaste.
"I don't know why you sound so disgusted sis," Daemonar smirked, "you'll probably end up there someday."
Luthvian scowled in response, but didn't say anything. One day she would show him, but today wasn't that day.
"Oh the poor girl," Morton mused thoughtfully, "she must have been so miserable."
"Well, I think your all jumping to conclusions," Chlandra stated, waving her fork for emphasis, "All we have to go off of is what Meghana heard."
They were at SaDiablo Hall and what was supposed to be just another routine dinner had instead turned into the announcement of Jaenelle's apprentice. The five people currently debating the apprentice's former status were the youngest present, as they were the descendents of Witch's first circle. Because this statement seemed to fit so well, the small group had earned the nickname 'the second generation'.
Meghana, daughter of Morghann and Khary, was probably the most upset over having to attend this evening. It was well known she had wanted the apprenticeship for herself, and her amber eyes would continually shift to the chair on Jaenelle's right, where the apprentice would sit when announced. She was continually clasping her Birthright Green jewel, as if attaining comfort from within the stone.
Daemonar was the oldest(and wearing Red, the strongest) of the second generation. He was the comic relief of the group; he was continually teasing some member of the group, his favorite being his sister. Luthvian, at 12, was the youngest member. She was an Opal jeweled witch with a short temper, her favorite victim of this temper being Daemonar.
Morton, a sapphire jeweled warlord, was the son of Gabrielle and Chaosti. His lean tall figure and spiked silver hair clearly reflected the Dea al Mon ancestry, though his attitude did not. He was the laid back, cool, calm, collected, type; the one least likely to take Daemonar's teasing seriously.
And lastly was Chlandra, adopted daughter of Karla. Karla had never married, but had taken the Birthright Green jeweled girl under her wing when her parents(who had been in Karla's service) had tragically died in a fire. Karla had been a mother figure ever since. It was well known, however, that she and Meghana didn't get along that well, and even now the two girls were shooting ugly glances at each other across the table.
"Well, whatever she is, I'll get to knock her down in the dirt tomorrow. Dad shays she'll have to start weapons training immediately," Luthvian stated, excited at the prospect of beating someone new in the sword.
"We'll find out soon enough," Meghana said sourly crossing her arm across her chest, "It looks as if the girl is about to be announced."
Jaenelle had risen to her feet, and was motioning for silence which she quickly got.
"Friends, honored guests, and politicians," she began with a sly smile, "As you know, this chair on my right has been empty for far too long. . .event though I was surrounded by exceptional youths," she shot a glance at the second generation, "however, I believe I have found the girl who will become my heir, my apprentice. So without further ado, I introduce to you Raine, Witch's heir!"
The double doors behind Jaenelle were opened and everyone got their first look at Witch's apprentice. Raine stepped through smoothly, and her appearance made everyone's jaw drop. Clothed in a short, tight dress that left nothing to the imagination, with tall red heels to match, she obviously had belonged to a House. Shooting Daemon an 'I told you so' look, she bowed to Jaenelle(the back of her dress rising a few more inches) and took her seat. Meghana shot a horrified Chlandra a superior look, her mouth twisting into a bitter smile.
"You're going to knock her in the dirt tomorrow?" Daemonar asked his sister.
Luthvian nodded, unable to respond.
"You're so damn lucky," he responded, craning his neck to get a better look.
* * * * *
"Daemon," Jaenelle reprimanded sharply, catching him in the act of shooting her apprentice a dirty look, "Why are you being so childish?"
"Because," he said coolly, "I don't trust a strong witch that simply marches into SaDiablo Hall and becomes, in an instant, the heir to everything you stand for. Maybe I'm being overprotective, but 1500 years of experience shouldn't go unheeded."
"Do you think I made a mistake then?" Jaenelle replied, her eyes narrowing with concentration, "I mean, her appearance certainly could reflect more. . .pride in herself, but other than that. . ."
"You know I would support you in anything," her said sincerely," And I don't think you made a bad choice persay. . .What that-?"
His statement cut off as he felt something solid hit the side of his head. Looking at the floor, he saw a small pea rolling on the ground. Swiveling around angrily, he glared over Jaenelle's shoulder at Raine, who was hurriedly burying her remaining peas under her potatoes. Feeling Daemon's gaze on her, she looked up and shrugged, giving him an innocent smile.
Grinding his teeth irritably, daemon knew Raine had gotten the better of him again.
* * * * *
Raine stumbled to the door of her room, slightly proud of the fact that she'd only gotten lost twice in the maze that was the Hall. Looking forward to simply collapsing on her bed, she was surprised to see a short witch already waiting for her. Rising, the woman that had gray streaks in her tangled black hair said, "Greetings Raine, Lady of the Light," she paused, then continued, "But you are not of the Light are you? However you are not a Daughter of Darkness either, so that is good," the witch mused, "You hang at a knife's edge, one motion to either side will determine the fortunes of all."
Raine stood speechless, unable to move or think, but the woman saved her the trouble, "I wove a web for you, would you care to hear the contents of the weaving?"
Finally, the young girl found her voice.
"Do I know you?" she asked softly.
The witch laughed in delight, a laugh ringing with the madness of the Twisted Kingdom.
"Indeed. Once, in my future, in your past, we did meet, but you do not remember me I think," another pause, "I am Tersa, Tersa the Weaver."
It was Raine's turn to pause, trying to comprehend anything this broken witch was saying to her. Giving up, she asked, "you wove a web for me?"
"Yes, you would want to hear what it spoke of?"
"Very much so."
Tersa took on a faraway look, her voice changing dramatically as she spoke, "Darkness and Light surround you, each trying to place a claim. A decision of immense importance waits for you, the Equilibrium is failing. Will you be Raine the Savior, or the Tyrant? The Wise? The Purifier? The Tainted? Will you rule a kingdom of roses or thorns? On one side all fear you and one loves you. and on the other, all love you and one fears you. Is it to be justice or ambition? Your web is of questions, no answers. But you do bring the attention of the Dark here child, evil follows you to Kaeleer; you bring danger to us all."
"You saw all this?" Raine demanded, "what does it mean?"
"I am a Weaver," Tersa said stiffly, "not an Interpreter. All I know is that the webs are never wrong, but the ones who fulfill them sometimes are."
The apprentice was stung by Tersa's words, without quite knowing why. Her eyes followed the broken witch to the door, but she turned around arubtly at the last minute.
"One more thing," Tersa said, her eyes showing signs of slipping into madness.
"Yes?" Raine asked weakly.
"Welcome to the Great Hall," she grinned, and with a bob of the head, left the room.