"What?" I ask.
My mother puts on a faint smile. "You are going to be betrothed, Cherandle. You'll be married in two years."
"What?!" I exclaim again, but my mother has already turned. I catch her sleeve. "But... But I'm only thirteen! And betrothing is something for... For royalty, and people like that..."
She waves her arm, forcing my hand away. "Your father and I have made our decision." she turns and smiles, "You know you are as good as royalty to us, Cherandle."
"But... But..." I stammer, "Don't I at least get a SAY?! I mean, it's my life!"
"Young lady," she says, pointing, "Your father and I will choose for you. This is the way it is best. We need to make sure you are safe."
"I don't WANNA be safe." I mumble, crossing my arms.
"You are only thirteen, Cherandle. You are too young to know what you want." she turns and walks out, "It is our final word."
With my arms still crossed, I flop down into my chair. I'm tired of my parents acting like we're nobles. For the Gods' sakes, am I the only one who realizes we're just normal people?
I don't want to be a lady. I want to be adventurous. I want to do something with my life. Like explore, or fight in the army, or something like that. Anything except get betrothed . Gods, I hate that word...
Suddenly, I think of the bag in my closet. It's really big... I bet I could fit a lot of food-
No, no, no, that wouldn't work. I can't run away. I can't...
But I'm tired of being treated like nothing by my own parents. And I know they'll just pick some brat for me to marry. I don't even have any friends...
*
It's going to rain. The clouds have been gathering for some time.
I'll have to find shelter.
It doesn't take me long... A small cave shows itself through the trees. It won't really be warm, but it'll allow shelter from the rain.
Once inside, I try to remember what day, or maybe what time of year it is. I know it's been at least two years since I ran away, and winter just ended...
A few drops land on the dirt outside. The rain has started. In a few minutes, the rain has turned into a downpour.
I take out the book... The one book I brought from home. It was my favorite. A book on swordfighting my father bought me back when he was teaching me... Before my mother just took control of everything. I've now been studying out of it for the last two years, ever since I ran away. I've gotten really good. I think he'd be proud of me.
After I get out my dinner, I take a moment to look at my sword- it's a small sword that I've had since I was seven- when my father decided I was responsible enough to handle a weapon- he really taught me good battle etiquette at an early age.
I take the sword out of its scabbard, and in the steel I can see my reflection. I look a lot more like my father than I do my mother- at least that's what I like to think. On the one hand, I do have my father's coloring- my eyes are a bright emerald green, my hair dark purple, falling a few inches past my shoulders. I put the sword back in its scabbard and put it down. I also have a double-headed spear- I made that myself.
Well, I guess the one good thing that came out of my parents' noble nature was the fact that I learned to fight so well... At least until my mother-
BOOM.
What was that? I look up. A sound like a small explosion, far off in the distance, has just sounded through the driving rain.
BOOM. There it is again... Sounds like it could be a dragon. Or maybe guymelefs landing. But I must be miles away from civilization. What would guymelefs be doing this far out...?
BOOM. I've got to do something. Sounds like it's coming this way... If it is a dragon, I'd run much more of a risk running out into the storm and facing the possibility of meeting a dragon face-to-face... Besides, this might not even be its cave...
BOOM. Taking my sword from the floor, I scoot as far back into the cave as I can. It's getting closer still... Maybe I should make a run for it. But I wouldn't be able to see a foot in front of my face! What should I do...?
BOOM. Too late. Through the rain I can see a shadowy figure. It is hesitating outside the cave entrance. I hug my sword close, hoping I don't need to use it...
There is a small screech. It can smell me. I know it. I find myself shuddering and try to calm my nerves. If I have to fight it, I will. It will be a test of my swordfighting skill.
With another, louder screech, the dragon enters the cave. I react at once, drawing my sword from its scabbard.
The dragon leaps forward, but the roof of the cave is low and it cannot jump far. The structure of the cave will give me some advantage. I leap out of the way of its teeth, trying to wound it from underneath, but the low roof is causing it to press its belly to the ground. I'll have to wound it some other way. I grab for my spear before it can attack again. I begin to climb onto its back.
The dragon lets loose a fireball, which evaporates a good deal of moisture on the cave walls, and forms steam. The suddenness of the flame startles me; I slip a bit and scratch my leg on the dragon's rough skin. Once I find my balance, I start towards its head.
It isn't trashing- there isn't enough room. But I'll have to look out for its tail. That's waving around outside the cave, and I'll have to try not to get near it.
As soon as I reach the head, I plunge my small sword into one of its eyes. The dragon squeals, and as it does I insert my spear vertically into its mouth, praying that it doesn't let loose any more fire.
It doesn't, and as I draw my sword out of its eye, its head thrashes about, and I am thrown to the cave wall. The impact does little to harm me, but as I fall I can hear a crack, followed by a sharp pain.
My ankle is broken, and my plan, which was to attempt to make the dragon roll in pain and then to stab it in the chest, has failed. The double-headed spear and the eye wound alone won't kill it.
I have lost.
Suddenly, the dragon squeals again as if it is being attacked. I turn my head towards the cave entrance. Several shadowy shapes run in from the sheets of rain and fall upon the dragon. Soon it is dead, and they remove the Energist, cheering as though it was all a game. All this time I am cowering against the cave wall, afraid of I know not what, but afraid nonetheless.
It is only when they turn to leave that I realize they are my only chance of escape. "Help!" I shout at the top of my lungs, praying they hear me, "Please help!"
One of them hears me. It signals to the others, and heads back into the cave, towards me.
When it is close enough, I see that it is a boy, with light blonde hair and violet eyes. He is wearing some sort of dark blue uniform.
"All you all right, Miss?" he asks.
"I..." I start, "I think my ankle is-"
"Gatti! What are you doing back there?" Another voice shouts from outside. Another one of them starts its way back into the cave. It is another boy, with a slightly different uniform, and he is running one hand through his white hair as if the water in it were a horrible nuisance.
"A woman in distress, Lord Dilandau," says Gatti, indicating me.
"Really..." the other seems slightly amused by this. He walks closer, then turns sharply to me with a sort of half-scowl, "What's your name, girl?"
"Cherandle Zarain, lord." I bow my head, "Forgive me for not standing in your presence... I fear my ankle is broken."
I'm trying to get on his good side, but the scowl only gets deeper, "Do I detect a note of sarcasm in that voice of yours?"
"Oh, no! No, of course not, lord..." I shake my head, then bow again, "...It would not suit me to insult one who would... Save my life..."
"Hmm." he seems to be considering my statement. "What did you say your name was? Zarain, was it?" He doesn't give me a chance to answer, "Where are you from?"
I consider my response. Any answer could make or break my escape fro this predicament. I finally decide to tell the truth, "...Zaibach, lord. I was born in the capital."
"I see..." I cringe. His voice holds a dark tone, "You're that little brat who ran away two years ago, aren't you? Your parents tried to get a search party sent out for you a few times. Quite common folk, actually." He pauses, then turns to Gatti, "Let's move out."
"But sir-"
"I said move out." Dilandau says fiercely. Then he sighs, "Tell me, Gatti, why should I save her when she abandoned her country? Or do you, perhaps, know something that I do not?" It sounds more like a challenge than a question.
"May I save her then, sir?" Gatti asks with half a smirk. Apparently this was not the right answer. As response, Gatti receives a sharp backhand across the face, which echos above the sound of the rain. I cringe again, fearing for my survival.
But Gatti has stood his ground, and Dilandau seems to be reconsidering, "You're a smart one, Gatti," he says, and turns, "Very well. Carry her out if you must. I'll have no part of it. Move out."
Gatti picks me up. I'm beginning to feel faint- partly from pain, partly from relief that I'm being saved- but I thank him, and he smiles down at me.
My sword is scabbarded at my side, and there's no chance that my spear survived... But I think of my book. I want to try and get it...
But the last thing I see before I pass out in Gatti's arms are the pages of my father's book being scattered to the rain-soaked winds.
*
I've now been kept in the healing ward of the Vione, a Floating Fortress for two weeks, and in that time have learned all that's happened in my absence from Zaibach. I have also met most of the Dragon Slayers. There are thirteen in all, and even a couple girls. Most of them, especially Gatti, have been very kind to me since my arrival.
I myself have told them about my past- about life before and after I ran away. I wonder what will happen when I return home. It seems, however, that after spending two years in the wilderness, facing my tyrannical mother will be a trivial matter.
As for Dilandau, he is nowhere to be seen.
Well, I've gone over all this while sitting in bed, brushing my dark purple hair. My ankle has healed, and I am to leave tomorrow.
I don't want to leave. This place has begun to feel like home... Probably because it's the only long-term residence I've known in two years. Yeah, two weeks does seem like long term, I'm pretty sure the longest I've stayed in one place before now was five days.
I stand up. It feels weird to walk, but it doesn't hurt. I take a short walk around the room, trying to get used to it.
Shoof. As I reach the bed, the door to the healing ward slides open.
It's Chesta, another one of the Dragon Slayers.
"Lord Dilandau wishes to see you," he says, "He says to bring your sword..."
*
I stand in what seems like a sort of throne room, holding my small sword at my side. Against one wall, almost hidden in shadow, is a man named Folken Strategoes. Lord Folken is a quiet man with what I find to be an intimidating presence- he seems to ooze authority from every pore with hardly a word. Before me, on a throne with the statue of a lion behind it, is Lord Dilandau.
I do a half-bow and then straighten again, waiting for one of them to say something.
Then, Dilandau speaks.
"Cherandle Zarain," he says, "My men have reported to me stories you've told regarding your skill and training in swordfighting. They believe you can be of use. That remains to be seen." He pauses. "Have you had any past military experience?"
"Not personally, Lord," I say, "My father served in the armed forces for a little while. He taught me everything I know."
Dilandau glances over at Lord Folken, then a half smirk crosses his lips as he looks back at me. He leans back in his seat.
"Show me."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
A/N: Soooooooooo... what'cha think? More? Less? A little off the top, perhaps? ;-) Please review!
