Child of the Desert
Summary: Corralyn of Meron is a page, one of the many noble girls inspired by Keladry of Mindelan to take a stance against conformity. Her twin, Alanna Roselle, is a prodigious mage with her heart set on a black robe. Their younger sister, the quiet and pessimistic Alynne, born Giftless with little stomach for adventure, cannot help but feel overshadowed and even envious, no matter how hard she tries to repress her jealousy. These feelings of inadequacy grow as her family- and Tortallan nobility as a whole- prod her into trying to be someone like her sisters, tearing her away from the desert, the people, and the lifestyle she has come to love. In the face of such adversity, can the "child of the desert" find her own path?
Chapter I
Her ebony eyes were fixed on the endless stretch of desert before her, taking in the golden sea of sand, each grain shimmering like a star drenched in sunlight. A gentle breeze stirred orange specks into the air to weave a sultry, shimmering veil as her own red-gold hair fanned out behind her, camouflaged in the backdrop of sand. The ruby-red afternoon sun sank into the dunes as the melodious voices of the desert tribesmen sounded in the distant. The girl closed her eyes in contentment. Here she was tranquil, here she was no one but herself. Here Alynne of Meron, "child of the desert," was free.
"Alynne? Alynne!" The girl squirmed slightly, suddenly aware of the sun's rays pounding mercilessly on her neck and the beads of sweat rolling down her sunburned skin. Her hair was wind-whipped and wild now, swirling through the air like a desert sandstorm. Alynne sighed as she tried to untangle it with sandy fingers, aware that the front of her new gown, red velvet, was now splotched with sweat droplets and sand as well. She swiveled, brushing grains of it from her satin-lined bodice, to face her elder sister, Corralyn.
"What is it?" Alynne demanded with all the patience she could muster. Why did the world insist on interrupting her the moment she found tranquility? What pointless thing had come to interrupt the flow of her life this time? If it's another court function, I'll die! the girl thought bitterly, irritable from the heat of day as well as the tactless interruption.. Stupid nobles with their stupid balls. If I were born a Bazhir, at least they'd leave me alone!
The older girl hid a smile behind a graceful but callused hand, knowing fully well how much Alynne hated interruptions. "We're going to Corus tomorrow," she explained, trying to tame glossy, raven-black curls under a dusty burnoose. "Cousin Meredith is waiting for us at court."
Alynne nodded, resigned. Meredith of Ladywinter, a cousin on their father's side, was an officer of the Queen's Riders. "That's right. She's trying for her red robe between battles, hmm? Can't be easy, as she's called away every other day. Is she calling you Gifted ones over for some competition?" Despite her casual tone, her eyes flickered briefly toward the ground and her mouth twisted momentarily. If Corralyn noticed, she chose not to comment. Alynne still showed flickers of resentment for not inheriting the full Meron Gift, though she insisted she had gotten over the fact ten years ago. A moment of silence blossomed between them as Alynne drew a deep breath and sister plucked nervously at her burnoose.
Corralyn was the first to break the silence, used to the bustle of the palace as she was. "I'm not even sure if Rose will be there," she commented, meaning her twin sister, the mage Alanna Roselle. "She's nearly as busy as we pages are, and us with our training in warfare and academics. But you know her," she grinned suddenly. "She's probably wrapped up in some ancient spell or- or random arcane discovery. She flirts with noblemen and dances as much as the best of the court ladies, but when it comes right down to it, she's an academic to the core."
Grateful for the change of topic, the blonde girl shook her head, sending sandy tresses flailing in the wind. "In my opinion, anyone trying for a shield is stark-raving mad. Especially one who is university educated and started off four years late, Corra." She glared pointedly at her sister, half in jest but half serious. " I still don't know what you were thinking when-"
"I know, I know," her sister cut her off with laugh, hazel eyes crinkled with mirth. She was long used to berating from both of her sisters over that particular decision. "You think I should've stayed and gotten my robe with Alanna Roselle. But Nealan of Queenscove made the path much easier for those who start late now, and I'm much too committed to just... drop it. Why would I want to, anyway?" Her hazel eyes sparkled, reminding the younger girl of their scholarly father at his dreamiest. "Besides," she continued, grinning, "Rose is a qualified mage already. A few more years, and she'll have a black robe. I'd never catch up!"
"Whatever you say," Alynne replied calmly, imitating the airy, sophisticated sigh their mage sister was so fond of using. She made a face, dropping the elegant pretense, and swiped the back of her hand against her sweaty brow.. "Let's just go!"
And with that, the two sisters began the long walk back to Persopolis.
Disclaimer: Any familiar characters, settings, concepts, etc. Belong to Tamora Pierce. The plot, as well as any of the above that are unrecognizable, are mine.