Disclaimer: The characters in Abhorsen, Sabriel, and Lirael all belong to Garth Nix. The plot and any characters you don't remember from the books are mine.
A/N: The prologue was set about 200 years before the events in the Old Kingdom trilogy took place, for those of you who were confused. This is set in the future now, about 16 years after the binding and breaking of the Destroyer at the end of Abhorsen. What happened to the characters of Abhorsen after that may be twisted into this story.
A tall, raven-haired girl stood inside the market of Belisaere. She walked occasionally, but mostly eyed what the merchants were selling, and longed for what she once had. Or at least, what she thought she had. Her past was unknown, and she often wished for a mother and a father - a normal life.
She was clad in a gray robe, threadbare and full of holes. Her hair was tangled and oily, specks of dirt and other rubble hung in the knots. Her feet were blistered, bloody and muddy; her ankles scratched and bruised. She carried smears of dirt on her cheeks and a shame in her emerald green eyes.
The rush of sea water could be heard from her place in the market. Seagulls sounded in the distance, and ships' crews sang sailor's songs. The girl sang them in her head, the days and days of standing in the marketplace and listening burned into her mind. Some days, when she could hear nothing but the gulls' songs, she pretended she could talk to them, and that she had a flock of friends.
Merchants stood under covered booths, the sun's rays not reaching their skins while she stood in flames, her sunburned skin being burnt again. They gossiped together, their jewels and meats too good for the rest. They looked at her, the orphan who walked the streets and smiled their superior smiles at her unclean body.
"Look at that orphan, Malger." one of the wealthy merchants scoffed. "Look at that dirty face, and the rags she's wearing. She's a disgrace to a great city like Belisaere."
His friend grinned. "I've seen her here before. She's in the market a lot. Watch your jewels, Lakin, she's eyeing your precious stones." The jewel merchant stood up straight, glaring at the orphan girl. Malger, smiling, walked back to his booth to watch over his expensive fish.
The orphan girl hung her head, subject again to the torture from the merchants. The market was the only place she knew, and she was too scared to venture out. She'd heard stories of other places, of wild men and thieves. The market seemed safest. So here she would stay, ignoring the rich merchants who looked down upon her.
Malger's face lit up as he watched the filthy girl drop her head. His words had brought her down, but he had plans to do much more than that. He motioned to Lakin, the jewel merchant, and signaled for him to watch.
"Orphan girl! Yes, you," Malger yelled, and the girl's head popped up. "Come here." She stumbled over on her bloody feet and Malger wondered if she could speak his language. "I've been watching you, and I was wondering…" He put on a fake, sweetened tone, and pretended as if he was interested in her.
Malger stroked a finger against he mud caked cheek, looking into her shameful eyes. She looked down, and a tinge of red crept into her skin. She'd never been touched by a man like this, and especially not a rich merchant. Malger's touch cracked the dried mud, pieces of it caught in her long raven hair, the rest falling at her feet.
"I've been wondering… if you'd like to come to my ship later. We could talk, or I could interest you in other things," Malger said, and he brushed his fingers of the girl's lips. To his surprise, they were full, perfectly shaped lips, moist and enjoyable to the touch. The girl, catching onto his words, stepped back and away from his touch. She cleared her throat, and then finally spoke.
"I cannot. Wouldn't be right for a merchant like you to associate with a dirty orphan like me, would it?" The girl's voice was that of a teenager just barely into womanhood, but the voice was perfectly blended. It held the sign of deep disgust, aimed at the rich merchants who despised her.
Malger's voice suddenly turned cold, losing all charm and charisma. "You shall not speak to me that way, you pathetic orphan girl!" He brought back his hand, then flung it forward, hitting the girl with his opened palm. His print was left on her cheek, the skin reddening and puffing up.
"I associate with who I want, and I see that a dirty orphan girl like you is definitely not good enough!" Malger shoved her back and she stumbled to the ground, sharp rocks piercing her burnt skin. She closed her eyes to hide her pain, and she refused to cry for the merchant.
"Cry! I want to see tears wash down your pathetic little face! I want to see your pain! Open your eyes! Open them!" Malger kicked at her downed body, watching her wince, the sight bringing him pleasure. He smiled, knowing he was bringing her down yet again.
"Stand," he commanded, his tone harsh and gravely. But she would not stand. Instead, she lay on the ground, her hands covering her neck and her body curled in a ball.
"Stand!" Malger yelled and he kicked the girl in the gut. She doubled over, but shakily stood. "I'll teach you to listen to your superiors!" He grabbed the long, tangled, raven hair that hung down her shoulders and threw her body into one of the poles holding up his booth. The poles shook, but the fish didn't topple. The Chartered wood stayed strong, and the protected fish barely moved.
The girl slid down the pole in a heap, laying at Malger's feet. She hated being there, as if she were laying at his command, but she couldn't move. The man, stronger than what his image portrayed, lifted her small frame over his shoulders, only to throw her back to his feet. She let out a painful cry, still holding back the tears and shielding her pain.
A group of five women walked into the market, baskets in hand and chatting happily. At first, their conversation held their eyes away from the orphan girl and Malger, but an outspoken young maid finally yelled to the market.
Her friends began screaming, their shouts alerting the other merchants and their customers. People began yelling, the chaos overwhelming some so soon. Those who did not know what was going on hid, the rest moving in to see the battered orphan girl.
Up the street walked a man, his entourage behind him, the clothing naming him rich. He laughed, a smile playing upon his lips, and his men trailed behind, laughing also. They were oblivious to the orphan and to Malger, who was quickly telling of the girl's thievery.
"She tried to steal from me, a raw fish! She snuck up while I was talking to my friend Lakin, the jewel merchant beside me. As I was talking, she ducked into my booth and tried to steal my precious fish! I caught her just in time right here and punished her for her crime!" Malger shouted, standing on a wooden stool to be seen.
The people abandoned the orphan to hear move of Malger's bravery. He began tell the tale of her punishment, just as the rich man and his friends walked up to them. "She tried to run, but I grabbed her. She was small and thin, so I could hold her easily. I -"
"What is going on here?" boomed a male's teenage voice. He'd already struck manhood, his voice deep, but it still carried a hint of a child's. He stopped walking, stared at the limp orphan and eyed Malger.
"She was a thief, sir," Malger said confidently.
"And what was the merchandise she stole?"
"One of my rare and precious fish, sir."
"Where is this fish?" the young man asked doubtfully. He wore a rimmed hat, both to shade his eyes and to hide his identity.
"Well, sir, I-" Malger began to stutter, the stole good nowhere to be seen. He looked to Lakin for help, but the jewel merchant was obviously amused. He felt little remorse in letting Malger burn, the greedy man needed to be dealt with.
"That's what I thought," said the man, and he crossed his arms. "Tell us the real story, fish man."
"Sir, I-"
"Now." His voice held such authority that Malger's knees knocked together. A tinge of red crept into Malger's cheeks, and suddenly, his voice became squeaky and high pitched, unlike his deep, confident voice before. Lakin's smile broadened. Malger was being put on the spot, and even his quick mind couldn't save him now.
"It's nothing, really, sir. She'll be fine. Look at her!"
The rich man turned to the orphan girl, who was slumped still at the post, her lips bleeding, her torso bright red as well. Her head was leaned back against the pole, and she seemed unconscious.
"This girl needs medical care. I do not believe she is 'okay'. I want the whole story, and I want it now." The man glared at Malger, and the weak merchant began to stutter.
"Sir, who are you to act as you do? What authority do you have over us?" Malger mustered up all the courage he could get, and he spat the words with what seemed like pride.
The man uncrossed his arms, and whipped off his hat. He revealed his face for the first time, the face of the Old Kingdom's prince. The crowd gasped, and Malger's face went pale. He dropped to his knees and immediately started begging for forgiveness.
"Enough! None of your pleas for forgiveness. I want to know what happened here." The people looked around to each other, but only Lakin knew the truth. He stepped forward, his grin now a subtle smile.
"I know what happened, Your Highness. If you'll allow me to explain," Lakin said, bowing to the Prince.
"May I inquire you name, merchant?"
"My name is Lakin and I am a jewel merchant."
"Do tell then. This stuttering fool will not produce any legitimate words. Go on."
"Prince Daman, Malger here tried to seduce the orphan girl. She turned him down, holding true to her values. Malger got upset and smacked the poor girl. See his print on her cheek still? Then he shoved her to the ground, and kicked at her until she stood. He threw her against one of the poles, and she slid down to the ground. He picked her up then, and threw her back to the dirt. She was no thief, just an innocent young orphan."
"Thank you, Lakin. Guards, take this man here away. I want him sent to the Council of Belisaere. Herim, come and help me with the girl. Everyone else, go about your own businesses." Prince Daman rushed to the girl's side, Herim, his medical doctor, staying at his side. Daman touched the girl's burnt skin, feeling the flames leap into his fingertips.
"What do you think Herim?"
"Concussion. Multiple wounds. She'll scar. Bruised, probably. Very malnourished." Herim lifted the girl's head, and she appeared to be sleeping. "I need my tools aboard the ship to tell exactly what's injured."
"Then we'll take her aboard the ship. She can stay until she heals."
"Okay, that sounds… DAMAN! You cannot bring a stranger aboard the royal ship! What if this is a trap? She could be a, a spy! She could -"
"Herim, she needs help. We'll just remain quiet so she cannot retain any information."
"Daman, I do not like this. She could be an Ancelstierrian! Their technology could be finding out about the Old Kingdom's magic."
"Their technology does not work in the Kingdom, Herim, and they do not believe in magic outside the Perimeter."
"I still do not like this, Prince Daman."
"Herim, she needs your help. She may be injured for life without you. Please Herim. Just until she's well."
Herim sighed, and finally gave in. "Daman, if this leads to any trouble, I will not be help responsible!"
"Yes, Herim. I am old enough to take responsibility for my actions. Now, please, can you build a makeshift stretcher? I must find the rest of the men."
Herim looked after the Prince as he walked away. He was a young prince, only 19, but he had the wisdom of a grown man. Herim stood, grumbling to himself as he ripped the strong canvas from the fish merchant's booth, and he quickly fastened it to two strong, wooden poles. The old man was nimble, and a lot stronger than his frail body looked. He moved the girl's body to the stretcher, laying her unconscious body straight. He stood, and waited, several minutes later, for Daman to come back.
Herim stood guard over the orphan's body. He ignored curious stares, and the gloating Lakin, who was now the hero. He could hear the merchant's bragging, and could see the look of loving attention.
"I told him not to do it. Malger had been eyeing the orphan all day. He wanted her to come back to his ship, but she refused. And that's when he attacked her. He was mad that someone didn't want to be with him, and now look at the poor girl!"
Herim ignored Lakin, or tried to ignore the boisterous talk. From the harbor, he could see Daman and his men approaching slowly. Finally, several minutes later, they arrived. Malger had been delivered to the Council, and now they were ready to board. Two of the men, Hashir and Monlang, grabbed the stretcher's ends carefully, holding the limp body just feet from the ground.
Prince Daman led the small procession towards the harbor, where his ship, Astecia, was anchored. He as well ignored the looks from curious onlookers, and walked silently to his ship.
He and his men walked Hashir and Monlang to a free room on the ship for the orphan. Daman dismissed all but Herim from the room, and he locked the door behind them. Herim was already at work when he turned around, and Daman sat beside where the girl lay. For the first time, he noticed the dirt, the blistered feet, and the tangled hair. She would need a good bath, but he would make sure she was cleansed by a female.
He noticed something else too, something he wondered why a young man his age would overlook. She was a beautiful young woman with emerald eyes, he noticed as Herim looked into them. There were sparks of yellowed fire floating around in them, unlike anything he had ever seen. Her cheekbones were perfectly arched, setting off her face as one of a kind. The raven color of her hair was familiar. It looked like his mother's, but at the same time, it was entirely different. Her frail frame showed bone, and he knew she hadn't ate in days.
Daman took one last look at her face, her body laying unmoving on the bed. He stood up, leaving Herim to his work, and unlocking the door, walked out into the bright Belisaere day.
A/N: CLIFFHANGER! Don't you love me? ^.^ Anywhoo, tell me what you think, what I need to change. Remember, this is 16 years AFTER the events in Abhorsen. Please review!!!
A/N: The prologue was set about 200 years before the events in the Old Kingdom trilogy took place, for those of you who were confused. This is set in the future now, about 16 years after the binding and breaking of the Destroyer at the end of Abhorsen. What happened to the characters of Abhorsen after that may be twisted into this story.
A tall, raven-haired girl stood inside the market of Belisaere. She walked occasionally, but mostly eyed what the merchants were selling, and longed for what she once had. Or at least, what she thought she had. Her past was unknown, and she often wished for a mother and a father - a normal life.
She was clad in a gray robe, threadbare and full of holes. Her hair was tangled and oily, specks of dirt and other rubble hung in the knots. Her feet were blistered, bloody and muddy; her ankles scratched and bruised. She carried smears of dirt on her cheeks and a shame in her emerald green eyes.
The rush of sea water could be heard from her place in the market. Seagulls sounded in the distance, and ships' crews sang sailor's songs. The girl sang them in her head, the days and days of standing in the marketplace and listening burned into her mind. Some days, when she could hear nothing but the gulls' songs, she pretended she could talk to them, and that she had a flock of friends.
Merchants stood under covered booths, the sun's rays not reaching their skins while she stood in flames, her sunburned skin being burnt again. They gossiped together, their jewels and meats too good for the rest. They looked at her, the orphan who walked the streets and smiled their superior smiles at her unclean body.
"Look at that orphan, Malger." one of the wealthy merchants scoffed. "Look at that dirty face, and the rags she's wearing. She's a disgrace to a great city like Belisaere."
His friend grinned. "I've seen her here before. She's in the market a lot. Watch your jewels, Lakin, she's eyeing your precious stones." The jewel merchant stood up straight, glaring at the orphan girl. Malger, smiling, walked back to his booth to watch over his expensive fish.
The orphan girl hung her head, subject again to the torture from the merchants. The market was the only place she knew, and she was too scared to venture out. She'd heard stories of other places, of wild men and thieves. The market seemed safest. So here she would stay, ignoring the rich merchants who looked down upon her.
Malger's face lit up as he watched the filthy girl drop her head. His words had brought her down, but he had plans to do much more than that. He motioned to Lakin, the jewel merchant, and signaled for him to watch.
"Orphan girl! Yes, you," Malger yelled, and the girl's head popped up. "Come here." She stumbled over on her bloody feet and Malger wondered if she could speak his language. "I've been watching you, and I was wondering…" He put on a fake, sweetened tone, and pretended as if he was interested in her.
Malger stroked a finger against he mud caked cheek, looking into her shameful eyes. She looked down, and a tinge of red crept into her skin. She'd never been touched by a man like this, and especially not a rich merchant. Malger's touch cracked the dried mud, pieces of it caught in her long raven hair, the rest falling at her feet.
"I've been wondering… if you'd like to come to my ship later. We could talk, or I could interest you in other things," Malger said, and he brushed his fingers of the girl's lips. To his surprise, they were full, perfectly shaped lips, moist and enjoyable to the touch. The girl, catching onto his words, stepped back and away from his touch. She cleared her throat, and then finally spoke.
"I cannot. Wouldn't be right for a merchant like you to associate with a dirty orphan like me, would it?" The girl's voice was that of a teenager just barely into womanhood, but the voice was perfectly blended. It held the sign of deep disgust, aimed at the rich merchants who despised her.
Malger's voice suddenly turned cold, losing all charm and charisma. "You shall not speak to me that way, you pathetic orphan girl!" He brought back his hand, then flung it forward, hitting the girl with his opened palm. His print was left on her cheek, the skin reddening and puffing up.
"I associate with who I want, and I see that a dirty orphan girl like you is definitely not good enough!" Malger shoved her back and she stumbled to the ground, sharp rocks piercing her burnt skin. She closed her eyes to hide her pain, and she refused to cry for the merchant.
"Cry! I want to see tears wash down your pathetic little face! I want to see your pain! Open your eyes! Open them!" Malger kicked at her downed body, watching her wince, the sight bringing him pleasure. He smiled, knowing he was bringing her down yet again.
"Stand," he commanded, his tone harsh and gravely. But she would not stand. Instead, she lay on the ground, her hands covering her neck and her body curled in a ball.
"Stand!" Malger yelled and he kicked the girl in the gut. She doubled over, but shakily stood. "I'll teach you to listen to your superiors!" He grabbed the long, tangled, raven hair that hung down her shoulders and threw her body into one of the poles holding up his booth. The poles shook, but the fish didn't topple. The Chartered wood stayed strong, and the protected fish barely moved.
The girl slid down the pole in a heap, laying at Malger's feet. She hated being there, as if she were laying at his command, but she couldn't move. The man, stronger than what his image portrayed, lifted her small frame over his shoulders, only to throw her back to his feet. She let out a painful cry, still holding back the tears and shielding her pain.
A group of five women walked into the market, baskets in hand and chatting happily. At first, their conversation held their eyes away from the orphan girl and Malger, but an outspoken young maid finally yelled to the market.
Her friends began screaming, their shouts alerting the other merchants and their customers. People began yelling, the chaos overwhelming some so soon. Those who did not know what was going on hid, the rest moving in to see the battered orphan girl.
Up the street walked a man, his entourage behind him, the clothing naming him rich. He laughed, a smile playing upon his lips, and his men trailed behind, laughing also. They were oblivious to the orphan and to Malger, who was quickly telling of the girl's thievery.
"She tried to steal from me, a raw fish! She snuck up while I was talking to my friend Lakin, the jewel merchant beside me. As I was talking, she ducked into my booth and tried to steal my precious fish! I caught her just in time right here and punished her for her crime!" Malger shouted, standing on a wooden stool to be seen.
The people abandoned the orphan to hear move of Malger's bravery. He began tell the tale of her punishment, just as the rich man and his friends walked up to them. "She tried to run, but I grabbed her. She was small and thin, so I could hold her easily. I -"
"What is going on here?" boomed a male's teenage voice. He'd already struck manhood, his voice deep, but it still carried a hint of a child's. He stopped walking, stared at the limp orphan and eyed Malger.
"She was a thief, sir," Malger said confidently.
"And what was the merchandise she stole?"
"One of my rare and precious fish, sir."
"Where is this fish?" the young man asked doubtfully. He wore a rimmed hat, both to shade his eyes and to hide his identity.
"Well, sir, I-" Malger began to stutter, the stole good nowhere to be seen. He looked to Lakin for help, but the jewel merchant was obviously amused. He felt little remorse in letting Malger burn, the greedy man needed to be dealt with.
"That's what I thought," said the man, and he crossed his arms. "Tell us the real story, fish man."
"Sir, I-"
"Now." His voice held such authority that Malger's knees knocked together. A tinge of red crept into Malger's cheeks, and suddenly, his voice became squeaky and high pitched, unlike his deep, confident voice before. Lakin's smile broadened. Malger was being put on the spot, and even his quick mind couldn't save him now.
"It's nothing, really, sir. She'll be fine. Look at her!"
The rich man turned to the orphan girl, who was slumped still at the post, her lips bleeding, her torso bright red as well. Her head was leaned back against the pole, and she seemed unconscious.
"This girl needs medical care. I do not believe she is 'okay'. I want the whole story, and I want it now." The man glared at Malger, and the weak merchant began to stutter.
"Sir, who are you to act as you do? What authority do you have over us?" Malger mustered up all the courage he could get, and he spat the words with what seemed like pride.
The man uncrossed his arms, and whipped off his hat. He revealed his face for the first time, the face of the Old Kingdom's prince. The crowd gasped, and Malger's face went pale. He dropped to his knees and immediately started begging for forgiveness.
"Enough! None of your pleas for forgiveness. I want to know what happened here." The people looked around to each other, but only Lakin knew the truth. He stepped forward, his grin now a subtle smile.
"I know what happened, Your Highness. If you'll allow me to explain," Lakin said, bowing to the Prince.
"May I inquire you name, merchant?"
"My name is Lakin and I am a jewel merchant."
"Do tell then. This stuttering fool will not produce any legitimate words. Go on."
"Prince Daman, Malger here tried to seduce the orphan girl. She turned him down, holding true to her values. Malger got upset and smacked the poor girl. See his print on her cheek still? Then he shoved her to the ground, and kicked at her until she stood. He threw her against one of the poles, and she slid down to the ground. He picked her up then, and threw her back to the dirt. She was no thief, just an innocent young orphan."
"Thank you, Lakin. Guards, take this man here away. I want him sent to the Council of Belisaere. Herim, come and help me with the girl. Everyone else, go about your own businesses." Prince Daman rushed to the girl's side, Herim, his medical doctor, staying at his side. Daman touched the girl's burnt skin, feeling the flames leap into his fingertips.
"What do you think Herim?"
"Concussion. Multiple wounds. She'll scar. Bruised, probably. Very malnourished." Herim lifted the girl's head, and she appeared to be sleeping. "I need my tools aboard the ship to tell exactly what's injured."
"Then we'll take her aboard the ship. She can stay until she heals."
"Okay, that sounds… DAMAN! You cannot bring a stranger aboard the royal ship! What if this is a trap? She could be a, a spy! She could -"
"Herim, she needs help. We'll just remain quiet so she cannot retain any information."
"Daman, I do not like this. She could be an Ancelstierrian! Their technology could be finding out about the Old Kingdom's magic."
"Their technology does not work in the Kingdom, Herim, and they do not believe in magic outside the Perimeter."
"I still do not like this, Prince Daman."
"Herim, she needs your help. She may be injured for life without you. Please Herim. Just until she's well."
Herim sighed, and finally gave in. "Daman, if this leads to any trouble, I will not be help responsible!"
"Yes, Herim. I am old enough to take responsibility for my actions. Now, please, can you build a makeshift stretcher? I must find the rest of the men."
Herim looked after the Prince as he walked away. He was a young prince, only 19, but he had the wisdom of a grown man. Herim stood, grumbling to himself as he ripped the strong canvas from the fish merchant's booth, and he quickly fastened it to two strong, wooden poles. The old man was nimble, and a lot stronger than his frail body looked. He moved the girl's body to the stretcher, laying her unconscious body straight. He stood, and waited, several minutes later, for Daman to come back.
Herim stood guard over the orphan's body. He ignored curious stares, and the gloating Lakin, who was now the hero. He could hear the merchant's bragging, and could see the look of loving attention.
"I told him not to do it. Malger had been eyeing the orphan all day. He wanted her to come back to his ship, but she refused. And that's when he attacked her. He was mad that someone didn't want to be with him, and now look at the poor girl!"
Herim ignored Lakin, or tried to ignore the boisterous talk. From the harbor, he could see Daman and his men approaching slowly. Finally, several minutes later, they arrived. Malger had been delivered to the Council, and now they were ready to board. Two of the men, Hashir and Monlang, grabbed the stretcher's ends carefully, holding the limp body just feet from the ground.
Prince Daman led the small procession towards the harbor, where his ship, Astecia, was anchored. He as well ignored the looks from curious onlookers, and walked silently to his ship.
He and his men walked Hashir and Monlang to a free room on the ship for the orphan. Daman dismissed all but Herim from the room, and he locked the door behind them. Herim was already at work when he turned around, and Daman sat beside where the girl lay. For the first time, he noticed the dirt, the blistered feet, and the tangled hair. She would need a good bath, but he would make sure she was cleansed by a female.
He noticed something else too, something he wondered why a young man his age would overlook. She was a beautiful young woman with emerald eyes, he noticed as Herim looked into them. There were sparks of yellowed fire floating around in them, unlike anything he had ever seen. Her cheekbones were perfectly arched, setting off her face as one of a kind. The raven color of her hair was familiar. It looked like his mother's, but at the same time, it was entirely different. Her frail frame showed bone, and he knew she hadn't ate in days.
Daman took one last look at her face, her body laying unmoving on the bed. He stood up, leaving Herim to his work, and unlocking the door, walked out into the bright Belisaere day.
A/N: CLIFFHANGER! Don't you love me? ^.^ Anywhoo, tell me what you think, what I need to change. Remember, this is 16 years AFTER the events in Abhorsen. Please review!!!