Child of the Desert
Chapter III
The magnificent capital city grew larger and larger in Alynne's vision, wavering on layers of black road and green grass. Elegant spires, stout towers, and neatly scalloped roofs materialized, breaking up natural patterns of blue sky and white cloud. As they passed through the enormous city gates, wrought like black lace, and turned toward the marketplace, the grandiose buildings were replaced by tiny, shabby houses and littered streets. Alynne gasped, as if she could feel the dirtiness clogging earth and air. This vision lasted only for a moment, however, as they passed solemn, golden temples and arrived at the palace gates.
The graceful curves of metal that protected the palace were even more beautiful than the city gates, reflecting sunlight to shine in rays of pure gold. Alynne blinked; the scintillating gates were so bright that it hurt to look it at them. She studied the intricate designs and jewels that adorned them through narrowed eyes- she had seen them many times before, but it never failed to take her breath away. Pretty much the only thing worth seeing around her, palace or not, the girl thought bitterly.
Alynne disembarked with a rather undignified hop as Corralyn got off more gracefully. The smaller girl couldn't help shaking her head in exasperation- her sister even had to dismount a caravan perfectly. Or maybe it just comes naturally to her, she mused. They turned toward one of the many visitors' entrances as the driver and one of the palace hostlers took the caravan and the horses.
The younger girl sighed, stepping out of the evening heat only to have her eyes bombarded by the gaudy crimson and gold leafing that adorned the entrance hall.
"Something the matter," Corralyn demanded.
"Nothing, nothing. Where are we going now?" Alynne asked demurely, resigned.
Her sister beckoned, and they headed down another elaborately decorated corridor. Alynne gritted her teeth and stared sullenly at the many lords, ladies, and servants that walked past them. Corralyn shook her head, long since used to such displays of surliness, and led her into one of the rooms currently occupied by the Queen's Riders.
"Meredith's here," she said, looking over her shoulder at Alynne.
"I kind of figured that," the younger sister replied sarcastically. She swung open the door unceremoniously, bracing her foot against it to hold it open so her sister could enter.
"Corra! 'Lynne!" suddenly, a delicate, red-robed figure rushed passed the door and grabbed both of them in a bone-crushing embrace. Corralyn laughed out loud, and Alynne smiled in spite of herself. The red-robe released them enough for Alynne to see a tumble of raven-black curls pinned elegantly above a hazel-eyed face identical to Corralyn's.
"Rose, you came!" Alynne and Corralyn shouted at once.
Alanna Roselle, Corra's twin and Alynne's older sister, twirled around gracefully and grinned. "It's me, alright!" she laughed merrily. "You're lucky that it's summer, or the Masters would have refused. Cousin Mera is here, too, and I brought some of my university friends. It's a regular ball!" She ushered her sisters into the room to where a sandy-haired, bespectacled young woman, a redheaded boy, and a dark-eyed, bronze-skinned Bazhir girl lingered.
"There you are!" Meredith of Ladywinter approached them first, clad in the uniform of the Queen's Riders. Older than both Rose and Corra, she was second-in-command of the Second Rider's Group. Of medium height and with a graceful, mildly curving figure, she walked with unusual balance and athletic grace. Her face, usually scholarly and solemn but softened with the smile she bestowed upon them, was framed by sandy blonde hair. Unlike Alynne's own, however, it was dominated by earthen tones rather than fiery ones, ocean sand to Alynne's desert. Her pensive, sea-green eyes glittered behind oval lenses.
The first of Alanna Roselle's mage friends was easily recognizable from his bright hair and green-hazel eyes- Thom of Pirate's Swoop. Alynne arched her eyebrows in mild surprise. Trust Rose to befriend the son of a legend! The Bazhir girl introduced herself as Parvati Ilaqi and gifted them with a hesitant smile. Alynne smiled back at both of them. At least they seem like nice, intelligent people. Mages, but still.
"How fares your education, Child of the Desert," Parvati asked with a quiet laugh. Her face was narrow and elegant, with high cheekbones and a pointed chin. Glossy coal-black curls, sun-streaked with dark bronze, flowed to the collar of her red mage's robe.
Alynne, busy comparing her own travel-worn tunic, shirt, and breeches with the courtly elegance of the mages' clothes, blinked in surprise. "Pardon?"
"Rose told us about the tribesmens' nickname for you." That was Thom, the famous Lioness's son. "My mother is fond of the Bazhir as well. The Bloody Hawk adopted her. Is there any particular reason they call you Child of the Desert? A prophecy, or something?" His eyes, bright with intelligence, gleamed with further interest. " Ma is known as both the Woman Who Rides Like a Man and the Burning-Brightly One, and our king as the Night One. They vanquished the Ysandir. Perhaps you will do great deeds as well."
"What?" the younger girl gasped. She couldn't help but wonder if this renown mage was mad, or jesting, or both. Both mages exchanged an amused look, and Alynne placated herself. "I mean, I doubt it. They call me Child of the Desert because that's what my name means, in some foreign tongue I've never heard of." Alynne made a face.. "And I was the only Meron in this generation to be born on the fief. Not here in Corus like the twins." She sighed when her sister's friends continued to study her as if she were a new sort of spell. How could she explain it to them, this mediocrity that seemed to have chosen her at birth and tagged to her since then, the way fate or the favor of the gods tagged to others? "I- I'm not one for fulfilling prophecies or doing great things," she muttered at last.
"Maybe, maybe not. You never know," Parvati excused herself with a wink, and she and Thom left to greet Corralyn.
Not a single possibility, Alynne thought regretfully, I'm not meant for great things like the twins. No Gift, like the Lioness and His Majesty. She made a face. No future.
But at the same time, she wondered what it would be like to be a hero. And what it would take.
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.