Innocence and Audacity
Disclaimer: I own.... *draws a blank*... nada. That should be quite clear to all of you...
Chapter One
All my life, I had known nothing...nothing but boundaries. As the female heir to a traditionally male dominated throne, it was acknowledged by those in charge of my life that I should be kept sheltered. Away from any possible threat, whether it was the hot, untidy kitchen and the burns that I would surely receive, or the spinning wheels, where I could prick my finger or *gasp* break a nail. Above all, I was kept constantly in the castle. The outside world posed far too many dangers, but with these restrictions came great costs, some with results I'm sure were not intended. Because I was so sheltered, I grew up incredibly stubborn and defiant, yearning for the chance to venture outside the castle. Here, I was certain, my life would become worth living. For inside the castle, I had, in essence, no life. I was like a caged thestrel, and the longer I remained imprisoned, the more my spirit yearned for true freedom. My name is Kagome, and this is my story.
About two years ago, when I was fifteen, my father's kingdom was invaded. Prior to this, I had lived a pathetically quiet life; it's not difficult to imagine why. This invasion and eventual coup d'etat served as a turning point in my existence, for although my country was possessed of a lengthy and decidedly tumultuous history, nothing like this had ever been heard of...or imagined. My father, though ordinarily a grim, relentless fighter and an overbearing father, was rendered weak, brooding and indecisive at the dawn of this war, for the miscreant leading this revolt was his own son. My brother, Sesshomaru.
At the time of his birth, nearly twenty-one years ago, Sesshomaru was lauded as the salvation of our kingdom. My mother had previously been barren, and the king had all but abandoned hope at ever procuring a suitable heir. His birth, and my own six years later, came as quite a surprise to our aging parents, but my birth, though blessed in terms of the kingdom's welfare, was also tinged with sorrow. My mother, tired and sick with the trials of raising my rebellious six-year-old brother, took her own life soon after my birth. Sesshomaru, as the firstborn son and rightful heir, was looked upon as the last hope for our frail land, but even from the age of six, Sesshomaru was his own person. He refused to anticipate or prepare for his reign, or acknowledge that he would one day be king. The one skill that he chose to cultivate proved to be the art of the sword. My father, seizing upon this as proof of his potential, proceeded to train him in the handling and practice of a myriad of weaponry, calling upon renowned samurai to become his teacher. This later proved to be a grave mistake.
Around this time, I'd decided I'd about had it. No more cross- stitching sock monkeys, taking silverware etiquette lessons and getting all decked out just to sit around... cross-stitching. Much to my chagrin, my father and his assorted advisors were blaming my restlessness and defiance on my age. Adolescence had hit, and puberty was rearing its ugly head, but it was clearly much more than that. My useless life and meaningless existence seemed to be a greater strain than any life of danger and turmoil, and my thoughts and behavior reflected this belief. I resolved that this would not, could not, continue, and I devised a plan, confiding my intentions to my only friend, Lady Sango. The only female residing in the castle, Sango had been orphaned at an early age and was now dependent entirely on my father, her uncle, for protection, and I liked it that way. Although she was a few years older than me, Sango seemed to understand my innermost feelings and deepest fears, so I had no qualms with informing her of my plan, and later, asking her to help me with it. I knew that I needed, just once, to see the outside world, even if it meant disappointing my father and losing his trust forever. And at the age of fifteen, this need overwhelmed me, until I could think of nothing else. The relationship between my father and me had always been mediocre at best, and mutual trust dubious, so I doubted whether he would even notice that I was gone, and with that in mind, I began plotting my escape.
Disclaimer: I own.... *draws a blank*... nada. That should be quite clear to all of you...
Chapter One
All my life, I had known nothing...nothing but boundaries. As the female heir to a traditionally male dominated throne, it was acknowledged by those in charge of my life that I should be kept sheltered. Away from any possible threat, whether it was the hot, untidy kitchen and the burns that I would surely receive, or the spinning wheels, where I could prick my finger or *gasp* break a nail. Above all, I was kept constantly in the castle. The outside world posed far too many dangers, but with these restrictions came great costs, some with results I'm sure were not intended. Because I was so sheltered, I grew up incredibly stubborn and defiant, yearning for the chance to venture outside the castle. Here, I was certain, my life would become worth living. For inside the castle, I had, in essence, no life. I was like a caged thestrel, and the longer I remained imprisoned, the more my spirit yearned for true freedom. My name is Kagome, and this is my story.
About two years ago, when I was fifteen, my father's kingdom was invaded. Prior to this, I had lived a pathetically quiet life; it's not difficult to imagine why. This invasion and eventual coup d'etat served as a turning point in my existence, for although my country was possessed of a lengthy and decidedly tumultuous history, nothing like this had ever been heard of...or imagined. My father, though ordinarily a grim, relentless fighter and an overbearing father, was rendered weak, brooding and indecisive at the dawn of this war, for the miscreant leading this revolt was his own son. My brother, Sesshomaru.
At the time of his birth, nearly twenty-one years ago, Sesshomaru was lauded as the salvation of our kingdom. My mother had previously been barren, and the king had all but abandoned hope at ever procuring a suitable heir. His birth, and my own six years later, came as quite a surprise to our aging parents, but my birth, though blessed in terms of the kingdom's welfare, was also tinged with sorrow. My mother, tired and sick with the trials of raising my rebellious six-year-old brother, took her own life soon after my birth. Sesshomaru, as the firstborn son and rightful heir, was looked upon as the last hope for our frail land, but even from the age of six, Sesshomaru was his own person. He refused to anticipate or prepare for his reign, or acknowledge that he would one day be king. The one skill that he chose to cultivate proved to be the art of the sword. My father, seizing upon this as proof of his potential, proceeded to train him in the handling and practice of a myriad of weaponry, calling upon renowned samurai to become his teacher. This later proved to be a grave mistake.
Around this time, I'd decided I'd about had it. No more cross- stitching sock monkeys, taking silverware etiquette lessons and getting all decked out just to sit around... cross-stitching. Much to my chagrin, my father and his assorted advisors were blaming my restlessness and defiance on my age. Adolescence had hit, and puberty was rearing its ugly head, but it was clearly much more than that. My useless life and meaningless existence seemed to be a greater strain than any life of danger and turmoil, and my thoughts and behavior reflected this belief. I resolved that this would not, could not, continue, and I devised a plan, confiding my intentions to my only friend, Lady Sango. The only female residing in the castle, Sango had been orphaned at an early age and was now dependent entirely on my father, her uncle, for protection, and I liked it that way. Although she was a few years older than me, Sango seemed to understand my innermost feelings and deepest fears, so I had no qualms with informing her of my plan, and later, asking her to help me with it. I knew that I needed, just once, to see the outside world, even if it meant disappointing my father and losing his trust forever. And at the age of fifteen, this need overwhelmed me, until I could think of nothing else. The relationship between my father and me had always been mediocre at best, and mutual trust dubious, so I doubted whether he would even notice that I was gone, and with that in mind, I began plotting my escape.