CH3
Phil sighed softly as he gazed at his new wife.. no where near as beautiful as his first wife had been, but that had been a marriage of love. This marriage was quite different. It was either marry her or risk the political situation with her country deteriorating. Phil had always wanted the best for his country, and a war wouldn't have done much good for the people. He simply hoped Amelia would never have to make such a choice.
The woman was from Zelphillia, the wine country just slightly north and to the west of Seyruun. Regina was a tall, broad-shouldered woman, with slightly frizzy black hair down to her bulging hips. Her face was shaped like a block, her nose like the beak of a hawk, and her eyes were about the same color as her hair. At least she dressed nice, so the ladies of the court were impressed with that. Little good that did though. Ever since his father's death, things had been somewhat unstable. Only one thing had changed in the palace- or two, counting Phil's new wife, but in terms of the administration, only Phil had changed positions.
She lifted her dark eyes and smiled at her husband, her hands pausing in their careful embroidery. "Is something wrong?" she asked, her voice was one of the other few redeeming qualities, it was kind, not as deep as one would have expected her voice to be.
"A slight headache is all," Phil replied, turning his eyes back towards the paperwork that sat upon his desk. His office was neat, with a few chairs for visitors set near the large desk at which the king himself sat. He simply wished Regina would, or could, do some of his usual paperwork. But, she had been raised in a country that thought women had no right to do the jobs of men, so all she was capable of doing was embroidery and watching him get frustrated over things he shouldn't have had to deal with in the first place.
A tap on the door interrupted his thoughts and made both the king and consort look in that direction. Amelia opened the door slightly and peeked in, "Are you busy daddy?" she asked.
Phil grinned widely, standing from behind his desk. "Of course not dear!" he stated cheerfully, coming around the desk to hug her once she'd entered. "Do you need something?"
"I just wanted to tell you I was going for a ride." She turned her sparkling blue eyes up toward her father.
His grin widened, "Alright dear, be careful- and always keep Justice in your heart!" Regina grimaced.
Amelia nodded firmly, "I will daddy." Turning, she left and Phil retook his seat at his desk, his gaze falling on the papers once more. Finally, he got back to work on them, waiting for the next distraction.
***
Amelia yawned widely, lifting one hand to cover her mouth as she rode her horse Snowy out of the city. She'd felt so tired lately, as if something were sapping her energy while she slept. Oh well. Perhaps she could take a nap while she was out. Guiding her horse with her knees, the princess stretched her arms above her head, yawning again. A nap did sound like a good idea. But where to have one?
It was almost as if a light had turned on. "That lovely clearing with the stream I found last week!" she exclaimed, clenching one hand into a fist and setting her shoulders. "That will do nicely!"
Taking hold of the reigns again, Amelia turned her horse off the road once she'd gotten into the forest. Following a narrow path, only wide enough for one horse, she came to the aforementioned clearing with the stream. And blinked..
"What- happened here?" she asked slowly, bringing Snowy to a stop and staring at the wreckage that lay before her. The ground was torn up, as if claws had raked it, the trees scratched and the bark peeling off in strips. The stream had been widened on one side and water stood in some of the gouges in the mossy ground like irrigation ditches in a field.
"They ruined it," a voice murmured, softly, with a hint of madness. "They ruined it, and I'm going to get them back!"
Amelia clenched onto Snowy's reigns, the horse nickering in fear. "Who said that?" the princess asked, looking around the clearing and finding no one. Her gaze finally traveled upwards- to the trees. Perched on a branch was a young woman wearing a silk almost shapeless nightgown splattered in mud, with messy dark hair, her eyes shadowed.
"Why are you here?" the girl asked, her grip tightening on the branch. "Go away! This is my place! MINE! They ruined it! I'll kill them! They ruined it!" she howled.
In fear, Amelia turned Snowy and kicked her into a dead run, crashing through the brush and back down the main road. Behind her, she could hear the scream. "I'LL KILL THEM!"
***
The young man scowled, bringing his sword up and back down, stopping it expertly at waist level. The light of the morning sun shimmered though the trees and spilled a slightly green color across the lone figure in the forest.
"Damn it," he muttered. "I'll never get that move right..." Lowering the tip of his sword to the ground, he pushed his dark and sweaty bangs back from his angular face. "Will I ever be as strong as dad?" Flopping down to the leafy ground, he lay the blade across his knees, light blue eyes gazing into the gleaming reflection of his own face. "Probably not," he answered his own question. "If it hasn't happened by now, then it's not likely TO happen."
He chewed on his lip a bit, "Waste of my fucken time!" he growled and flung the sword aside. Leaves puffed up, then slowly settled back down over top of the sword. "If only I'd taken up Grandpa's offer to teach me magic. Maybe being a sorcerer isn't as bad as I'd thought it would be." He gazed down at his callused hands, slowly folding his fingers and unfolding them again.
Flopping back in the dead leaves that littered the ground while above him, the trees were beginning to come to leaf again, he stared at the somewhat hazed sky. "Shit.. I've got chores." Getting up, he dusted himself off and retrieved his sword, sliding it into his belt and crashing though the woods toward Rivindal, a town only three days walk from New Siraag.
The air ripped and a figure draped in a purple cloak landed on the leaves the young man had just gotten up from. The youth continued running, unaware that shards of amethyst eyes watched him carefully. With a soft chuckle, the eyes closed into a habitual smile and the air ripped again, the man disappearing.
***
Phil sighed softly as he gazed at his new wife.. no where near as beautiful as his first wife had been, but that had been a marriage of love. This marriage was quite different. It was either marry her or risk the political situation with her country deteriorating. Phil had always wanted the best for his country, and a war wouldn't have done much good for the people. He simply hoped Amelia would never have to make such a choice.
The woman was from Zelphillia, the wine country just slightly north and to the west of Seyruun. Regina was a tall, broad-shouldered woman, with slightly frizzy black hair down to her bulging hips. Her face was shaped like a block, her nose like the beak of a hawk, and her eyes were about the same color as her hair. At least she dressed nice, so the ladies of the court were impressed with that. Little good that did though. Ever since his father's death, things had been somewhat unstable. Only one thing had changed in the palace- or two, counting Phil's new wife, but in terms of the administration, only Phil had changed positions.
She lifted her dark eyes and smiled at her husband, her hands pausing in their careful embroidery. "Is something wrong?" she asked, her voice was one of the other few redeeming qualities, it was kind, not as deep as one would have expected her voice to be.
"A slight headache is all," Phil replied, turning his eyes back towards the paperwork that sat upon his desk. His office was neat, with a few chairs for visitors set near the large desk at which the king himself sat. He simply wished Regina would, or could, do some of his usual paperwork. But, she had been raised in a country that thought women had no right to do the jobs of men, so all she was capable of doing was embroidery and watching him get frustrated over things he shouldn't have had to deal with in the first place.
A tap on the door interrupted his thoughts and made both the king and consort look in that direction. Amelia opened the door slightly and peeked in, "Are you busy daddy?" she asked.
Phil grinned widely, standing from behind his desk. "Of course not dear!" he stated cheerfully, coming around the desk to hug her once she'd entered. "Do you need something?"
"I just wanted to tell you I was going for a ride." She turned her sparkling blue eyes up toward her father.
His grin widened, "Alright dear, be careful- and always keep Justice in your heart!" Regina grimaced.
Amelia nodded firmly, "I will daddy." Turning, she left and Phil retook his seat at his desk, his gaze falling on the papers once more. Finally, he got back to work on them, waiting for the next distraction.
***
Amelia yawned widely, lifting one hand to cover her mouth as she rode her horse Snowy out of the city. She'd felt so tired lately, as if something were sapping her energy while she slept. Oh well. Perhaps she could take a nap while she was out. Guiding her horse with her knees, the princess stretched her arms above her head, yawning again. A nap did sound like a good idea. But where to have one?
It was almost as if a light had turned on. "That lovely clearing with the stream I found last week!" she exclaimed, clenching one hand into a fist and setting her shoulders. "That will do nicely!"
Taking hold of the reigns again, Amelia turned her horse off the road once she'd gotten into the forest. Following a narrow path, only wide enough for one horse, she came to the aforementioned clearing with the stream. And blinked..
"What- happened here?" she asked slowly, bringing Snowy to a stop and staring at the wreckage that lay before her. The ground was torn up, as if claws had raked it, the trees scratched and the bark peeling off in strips. The stream had been widened on one side and water stood in some of the gouges in the mossy ground like irrigation ditches in a field.
"They ruined it," a voice murmured, softly, with a hint of madness. "They ruined it, and I'm going to get them back!"
Amelia clenched onto Snowy's reigns, the horse nickering in fear. "Who said that?" the princess asked, looking around the clearing and finding no one. Her gaze finally traveled upwards- to the trees. Perched on a branch was a young woman wearing a silk almost shapeless nightgown splattered in mud, with messy dark hair, her eyes shadowed.
"Why are you here?" the girl asked, her grip tightening on the branch. "Go away! This is my place! MINE! They ruined it! I'll kill them! They ruined it!" she howled.
In fear, Amelia turned Snowy and kicked her into a dead run, crashing through the brush and back down the main road. Behind her, she could hear the scream. "I'LL KILL THEM!"
***
The young man scowled, bringing his sword up and back down, stopping it expertly at waist level. The light of the morning sun shimmered though the trees and spilled a slightly green color across the lone figure in the forest.
"Damn it," he muttered. "I'll never get that move right..." Lowering the tip of his sword to the ground, he pushed his dark and sweaty bangs back from his angular face. "Will I ever be as strong as dad?" Flopping down to the leafy ground, he lay the blade across his knees, light blue eyes gazing into the gleaming reflection of his own face. "Probably not," he answered his own question. "If it hasn't happened by now, then it's not likely TO happen."
He chewed on his lip a bit, "Waste of my fucken time!" he growled and flung the sword aside. Leaves puffed up, then slowly settled back down over top of the sword. "If only I'd taken up Grandpa's offer to teach me magic. Maybe being a sorcerer isn't as bad as I'd thought it would be." He gazed down at his callused hands, slowly folding his fingers and unfolding them again.
Flopping back in the dead leaves that littered the ground while above him, the trees were beginning to come to leaf again, he stared at the somewhat hazed sky. "Shit.. I've got chores." Getting up, he dusted himself off and retrieved his sword, sliding it into his belt and crashing though the woods toward Rivindal, a town only three days walk from New Siraag.
The air ripped and a figure draped in a purple cloak landed on the leaves the young man had just gotten up from. The youth continued running, unaware that shards of amethyst eyes watched him carefully. With a soft chuckle, the eyes closed into a habitual smile and the air ripped again, the man disappearing.
***