Myranalei slowly wandered through the silver-wrought gates that opened the grand city of Crysanthia to the outside world. The guards-at-arms saluted their princess with smiles and cheerful greetings. Returning her future subjects' well-wishes, Myranalei made her way to the beautiful marble palace in which she resided.
Seimairin popped her sister with a small piece of parchment as they drew near the ornate marble staircase that led to their rooms.
"Oh dearest sister?" Seimairin giggled teasingly. "A letter. Just flew in a few minutes ago. On daddy's griffin."
Myranalei smiled softly and held out her hand. "What did he break this time?"
Handing the letter over, Seimairin quickly whispered into Myranalei's ear. "Your balcony windows."
"The same ones he broke trying to land in my room last month??" Rolling her eyes in annoyance, Myranalei turned her attention to the letter. Reading slowly, she tried to take in the full meaning of the words.
"Lady Myranalei Alundiel:
My name is Palin Majere. You may know of my namesake, the great Palin, nephew of the black archmagi Raistlin Majere. I have written to you in the hope that you, as a princess and a mage, would come to my aid. The elves are once again splitting, and the bloodline that held the throne for many years is dead. Your city, Crysanthia, which now stands upon the ruins of the great Palanthalas, is to be the unknown darkness' next target. Thorbardin has already fallen, and surely Silvanost and Qualinost will be next. I have come to you in hopes that you will be a diplomat of goodwill and ill-omens. Please help unite the elves.
I shall meet you in the village of Solace in ten days time, should you choose to honor your responsibility and answer my request.
Palin Majere, Head of the White Robes"
In shock from what she read, Myranalei handed the note to her sister. Seimairin read the letter quickly and returned it to her scroll pouch. Wrapping an arm around the blonde princess' waist, Seimairin quickly and quietly guided Myranalei to her own private chambers.
Shutting the door behind them, Seimairin gently led her sister to a comfortable chair. Looking around the room for a handmaiden that had remained in the room, she hurriedly covered the large windows with the deep burgundy velvet curtains and shut every door that led to the large commons area in her bedchamber.
"The elves.. fallen? The dwarves.. defeated?" Myranalei whispered softly, afraid her voice would make the nightmare true. 'The elves had been in trouble, sure, but they always had been. But the sturdy mountain dwarves falling to an unseen force? Surely that could not be!'
"Mi.." Seimairin's hand rested softly on the trembling shoulder of her older sibling. "Mi, wherever you go.. you know I'll follow."
Myranalei looked up into the comforting eyes of Seimairin and smiled sadly. "Then we travel south, to Solace."
Seimairin popped her sister with a small piece of parchment as they drew near the ornate marble staircase that led to their rooms.
"Oh dearest sister?" Seimairin giggled teasingly. "A letter. Just flew in a few minutes ago. On daddy's griffin."
Myranalei smiled softly and held out her hand. "What did he break this time?"
Handing the letter over, Seimairin quickly whispered into Myranalei's ear. "Your balcony windows."
"The same ones he broke trying to land in my room last month??" Rolling her eyes in annoyance, Myranalei turned her attention to the letter. Reading slowly, she tried to take in the full meaning of the words.
"Lady Myranalei Alundiel:
My name is Palin Majere. You may know of my namesake, the great Palin, nephew of the black archmagi Raistlin Majere. I have written to you in the hope that you, as a princess and a mage, would come to my aid. The elves are once again splitting, and the bloodline that held the throne for many years is dead. Your city, Crysanthia, which now stands upon the ruins of the great Palanthalas, is to be the unknown darkness' next target. Thorbardin has already fallen, and surely Silvanost and Qualinost will be next. I have come to you in hopes that you will be a diplomat of goodwill and ill-omens. Please help unite the elves.
I shall meet you in the village of Solace in ten days time, should you choose to honor your responsibility and answer my request.
Palin Majere, Head of the White Robes"
In shock from what she read, Myranalei handed the note to her sister. Seimairin read the letter quickly and returned it to her scroll pouch. Wrapping an arm around the blonde princess' waist, Seimairin quickly and quietly guided Myranalei to her own private chambers.
Shutting the door behind them, Seimairin gently led her sister to a comfortable chair. Looking around the room for a handmaiden that had remained in the room, she hurriedly covered the large windows with the deep burgundy velvet curtains and shut every door that led to the large commons area in her bedchamber.
"The elves.. fallen? The dwarves.. defeated?" Myranalei whispered softly, afraid her voice would make the nightmare true. 'The elves had been in trouble, sure, but they always had been. But the sturdy mountain dwarves falling to an unseen force? Surely that could not be!'
"Mi.." Seimairin's hand rested softly on the trembling shoulder of her older sibling. "Mi, wherever you go.. you know I'll follow."
Myranalei looked up into the comforting eyes of Seimairin and smiled sadly. "Then we travel south, to Solace."