Chapter 6-Not My Day
Malina stalked down the hall, fuming. Anyone who saw her immediately scrambled to get out of the way, nearly dropping stacks of scrolls, trays, and various other objects in their haste. The reason for their swiftness in doing so was because a visible aura of glittery golden power had gathered behind Mina, hovering behind her. Of course, this didn't happen any time a magik-possessor became particularly angry; it only occurred when the truly powerful ones were pushed to this point of volatility. Only one person was brave enough–or foolish enough–to intercept her path: Nathair Sidereal.
"Mina–Dalila Water-Bearer, did you realize that you're glowing?"
"Get out of my way," she bit out, barely glancing at him.
"Oh. I'm guessing your little talk with Prince Zaccheus didn't go very well?"
She halted then and turned blazing blue eyes upon him. "Do you value your life at the moment, Nath?" she asked caustically.
He too stopped all voluntary movement as her gaze trapped him in place. After she disappeared into her room, slamming the door behind her, he felt his limbs become limber and movable once more, and he placed his hand on the doorknob–which was a mistake. He yelped as a single golden spark transferred from the knob to his hand, and he yanked his hand back, rubbing it to regain sensation. "Ouch. Mina, that hurt!"
"Ask me if I care."
"This is important! Let me in!" He felt like a fool, yelling at the door, but any curious onlookers had vanished upon seeing her magikal demonstration.
"More important than the state of my future happiness? I don't think so. Nath, that pompous, that arrogant, that–"
"Whatever he said or did is not as important as the location of the prophecy scroll!"
Very, very slowly, the door began to open. "The prophecy scroll? As in the one you've been ransacking the libraries for?" When he nodded, Mina opened the door all the way and asked, "You aren't joking, right? Because if you are–"
"Yes, I know, if I was joking, you'd murder me in the most unpleasant way possible. I'm not! Would I lie about a thing like this?"
"Good. We're going."
The door swung shut again, and Nath stared at it in confusion. "Excuse me?"
"Didn't you hear me? We're leaving!"
"Don't you have to...say...get married sometime soon?"
"To the seventh hell with my marriage! I'll get married when I want to, and not a moment sooner! And to the person of my choosing, too!"
"Don't you think you're being a little hasty? It's highly unlikely that we'll survive the route to Tiassale."
There was a long pause before the door opened to admit him. The glow around Mina had faded, and she looked much more approachable than before. With a puzzled frown, she asked, "Tiassale? As in the Forgotten Realm? As in The-Place-Which-No-Longer-Exists Tiassale?"
He regarded her closely before answering. Lately, Mina had been getting restless, living in the palace. She was being much more temperamental than usual, and it made him nervous. "Yes, as in all the names for it. According to this cleverly-concealed...not to mention nearly impossible to decode...scroll from the gods know how many centuries ago, it does exist. You might recognize the present-day name for it: Amaranth."
A strange light came into her eyes as she considered the meaning of the name of the place. "Immortal...yes, it fits. Of course! Now, get in here and help me plan. If we're to leave tonight, there are a lot of things we have to work out."
"Don't I know it," he muttered, before the look on her face made him regret his words.
****~**~****
The brilliant engineer of their hare-brained scheme snuck through the halls, barely breathing as she rounded the corners. When she finally reached her destination unmolested, she shook her head in disgust and muttered, "Feasts. The only thing they're good for is increasing one's weight and sending just about everyone in the palace to sleep in a drunken stupor." Mina hadn't particularly enjoyed herself; she and Zaccheus had spent the entire night smiling as if their teeth pained them whenever their gazes met, and they had somehow reached a mutual agreement to ignore each other the entire night. Unfortunately, she'd been unable to excuse herself, being only too conspicuous, as she was due to be married tomorrow.
Weddings were big events to the nymphs, and Mina had always enjoyed attending them before. She had dreamed about being the bride before, but with the reality looming over her head, threatening to crash down any minute, the prospect was looking less attractive. After one dance with Zaccheus, during which they remained pointedly silent, they seated themselves again and returned to their previous pastime–doing absolutely nothing. He would have been a good dancer, and they would have been marvelous partners for each had their rhythm not been completely off. Neither was willing to fall into sync with the other, and since both refused to concede, it ended in a stalemate. At the end of the whole affair, Mina was so bored that she felt like crying. Even thinking through her escape plan and detailing rather morbidly everything that could possibly go wrong had been exhausted during the course of the night. She had bid Zaccheus a rather stony goodnight, noted the surprised expression that flitted across his face, and retreated to her room as quickly as possible. Her bags were packed and waiting for her, but she waited to make sure any idlers from the feast were safely out of the way.
Nathair, on the other hand, had managed to excuse himself from the entire mess–much to his delight and Mina's annoyance. He had spent part of the evening charming the maids in the kitchens, and his presence there served the dual purpose of getting them some food for their trip. As it was, he was already lurking in the shadows by the stables nervously. "Finally! What were you doing, brushing your hair?"
She glowered at him, and he grinned charmingly, the tension leaving his body. The only thing that took Mina much time was brushing her hair; it was a weak point with her. "No, I wasn't brushing my hair. I had to make sure everyone was in bed."
"Oh, they're all tired, intoxicated, or both," he said in a dismissive tone. "So, what's the plan for getting horses?"
"Actually, I was planning on sneaking in the back window while you flirt with whoever's crazy enough to be in there at this time of night."
His mouth dropped open, and he exclaimed, "What if whoever's in there isn't a girl?! What am I going to do then?"
Coolly, Mina replied, "Make believe you fancy those of your gender." When he shook his head stubbornly, planting his feet firmly in the ground, she gave him a hard look. "I don't care what you do, Nath. Just provide a distraction."
Nath only needed a few minutes to mull it over. It wasn't like he had much choice, given her no-nonsense tone. "Fine. Do you have everything?"
"Do you have everything?"
"I give up," he said, throwing his hands up in the air in defeat, "you're too hard to argue with. Just get ready and be quick. My reputation's going to be ruined forever, you know. The ratio of stable hands that are female to the ones that are male..."
"Am I the commander of this mission?"
"Well–"
"Am I?"
"Yes," he conceded grudgingly.
"Which means you follow me. Correct?"
"Yes," he consented again, sulkily.
"Then do it!"
"Yes ma'am!"
"And I don't want to hear any more of this nonsense. Desperate times call for desperate measures!"
Half-jokingly, Nath mumbled, "You're the one who wants to get out of the wedding. I don't think Prince Zaccheus will be too pleased when he finds himself stood up at the altar tomorrow in front of the entire court." After the icy look she gave him, he shut up obligingly, and in a little while (the stable being mercifully empty and the guarding magik spells disabled by Mina during their "conversation"), they galloped off into the night, little more than shadows in their dark cloaks.
****~**~****
The chilly dawn light cast the pristine-white temple walls in a celestial glow and brought out sapphire blue lights in the midnight-dark hair of the woman who had come before the sun had risen above the horizon. None of the priests, priestesses, or acolytes knew when she had arrived, so quietly had she slipped past them, but none of them disturbed her: houses of worship were meant for solace, and far be it for them to turn away someone in need.
Amity Nemosine paid them even less mind then they gave to her. Her head was bent as she stood before the altar. A few heavily-shaded lamps were lit, and the light scent of cleansing incense they used in this particular temple, compared to the thick, heavy, mind-clouding fragrances used at other ones, soothed her troubled mind. Early that morning, the realization had come to her: it was truly time.
Ami had been there for the better part of the night, thinking, pondering, worrying. Her long vigil was nearly over now, but she felt no less troubled. That Jalen was on his way, she didn't doubt. When he would arrive, she could not predict...and what would happen when he did come, she did not know. She rose and shook out her skirts briskly. Appropriating a nearby candle, she took one thin, waxy-white candle from her satchel. There were still four others like it.
A long time ago, during an extremely poetic age, a naiad-seer had written down a vision that had apparently come to her. That language was now lost, but the poetic sense remained. There were three parts to the prophecy: the first, merely known as "A Prophecy," the second, which everyone knew by heart, "The Chosen," and the third, which was the shortest section, entitled "A Warning and The Missions." Stopping before the altar dedicated to Lareina, the queen-goddess who ruled the pantheon, Ami recited the words of that began "The Chosen" in her mind as she lit the candle.
The first pair of soulmates are characterized by royalty:
The first shall be a princess fair of old, blue blood,
Her destined a prince at heart, commander of the common people.
The next niche was bestowed to Lady Cloris, the patron of the land nymphs. She was known as the Flower Goddess. Amity withdrew her second candle at lit it as well, continuing the prophetic recitation.
Each partner of the second pair balances the other perfectly:
Yet another human prince, this one better suited as a commander,
And his beloved a nymph whose authority equals his and whose strength of character and beauty shall not be forgotten.
There were five verses to "The Chosen," and she went to the shrine of Valencia, a winged goddess with a warm smile and a sheathed sword at her side, to recite the third one. The helmet and her weapon were a sharp contrast to her peaceable expression and flowing skirts. Valencia had been the patron goddess of the human ruling house that had previously challenged the House of Divine. The line of Divine had declared war a few years ago, and it was very recently in the span of history that the only other remaining ruling house had fallen. Currently, the only throne held by humans that still existed in the land was held by Queen Serenitatis, soon to be inherited by her daughter. Ami cleared all thoughts of politics from her mind and focused on the task she had begun.
The third pair are two truly marked by fate:
The male a half-breed, born of human and elf, with the best qualities of both but alone in life until he finds
His passionate warrior woman who ignites in him a fire matching her own.
Next came Zareh's statuette; she was the patron of the dryads and a symbol of protection.
Drawn to the natural world are those who constitute the fourth pair
A restless dryad will finally discover her all-enduring companion
In a man who is guided by the stars and whose purity of soul finds its match in hers.
When she came to the last two shrines in that particular temple, Ami paused, a slight frown marring her features. She was unsure of whether she should light the last candle at the altar of Dalila Water-Bearer, patron of the naiads, or Silvana Green-Mage, patron of the elves. At last, she chose the one of Silvana's. She had grown up worshiping chiefly Dalila in the underwater kingdom, and she preferred to distance herself from her old life. Silvana was most often represented as a tall, green-eyed woman with an enigmatic smile and masses of wavy mahogany hair rippling down her back. As she lit the last candle from the other she had taken, Ami's fingers shook as they had not before as she finished "The Chosen."
And the last pair, above them all, are more than what they seem:
An elfin prince held back by duty, by destiny, and most of all by himself,
Will find his naiad, one of the great sacrificers, who will teach him to follow his heart.
****~**~****
Darrian glanced over his shoulder impatiently. She wasn't disguised as well as he'd like, but it would do. She was wearing his spare clothes with a shapeless hooded cloak that obscured most of her face, but he could see her obstinate pout clearly. Shrugging, he checked that she still held her satchel and tightened his grip on his own resolutely. If they lost their supplies, it would put a definite dampener on their progress. He was trying to take his mind off the disastrous rescue attempt and what might be happening to Kent at the moment, and Serenitatis wasn't helping. Few people were on the streets that early in the morning, and fortunately, no one stopped them.
When they reached the stables, Darrian shared a commiserating look with his blond-haired friend. "Morning, Andrew."
"Darrian." He nodded cordially to his friend, although his eyes plainly showed his concern. However, he was apprehensive about saying anything with the stranger hovering behind Darrian present, and as his gaze slid that way, Darrian smiled ironically.
"Your royal highness, I'd be honored to introduce you to my friend Andrew. 'Drew, this is none other than Princess Serenitatis Divine. I've had the absolutely divine honor of meeting her acquaintance last night," he drawled, sarcasm and mocking plain in his voice and eyes.
Serenitatis glared at him, clearly unappreciative of his pun, but smiled sweetly at Andrew as she slid her hood back, deeming it safe in the stables. Only the three of them were there–besides the horses. And they drew her interest. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Andrew."
He managed to get his jaw back in position in a relatively short amount of time. "Likewise, your highness."
He attempted to bow, but she stopped him, still smiling warmly. Darrian gritted his teeth and feigned disinterest in their conversation as he attempted to make friends with the mare nearby. She, however, wasn't the least bit interested in having his company–just like Serenitatis. "Just call me Seren."
"I'm so sorry that my friend has inflicted himself and his bad manners upon you."
"I'm sure it's nothing compared to what you must endure, being one of his friends. I'm virtually his prisoner, and he hasn't made things very easy."
Andrew cast a teasing look at his best friend, who was determinedly ignoring them. It wasn't often that he got to see Darrian lose his composure. The circumstances were just too ludicrous and too good not to take advantage of. "It's not every day I get to meet a princess, so allow me to apologize for him, Lady Seren, since he'll never do it himself. Lovely ladies have never thrown him off-balance before, but it must be because you're particularly beautiful. That's one of the things you have to understand about Darr. He's stubborn, contrary, and tends to have the disposition of a balking horse if he's so inclined."
"I've learned that he's impatient, rude, and–"
Forcing a laugh, Darrian interrupted determinedly through clenched teeth, "Since you two seem to be getting along so well, discussing my deficiencies and all, do you think we could continue this ravishing discourse about my shortcomings sometime later? We need horses, Andrew, and we've got to leave the capital as soon as possible."
"Of course," he responded immediately, although he was a little alarmed at the testy annoyance in his friend's eyes. Never had Darrian been so short with him, and he looked genuinely irritated. "You'll take your usual horse, then? What about you, Lady Seren?"
"She'll probably have to ride with me. Do you know how to ride at all? Sidesaddle, maybe?" Darrian saddled his horse and held out his hand impatiently, clearly expecting that he would have to ride with her.
Serenitatis dug her pristine fingernails into her skin, wishing that she was inflicting the pain on him rather than herself.
Andrew looked back and forth between the two, and he smiled inwardly when he realized that his friend was already attracted to the girl he was so determined to dislike. Darrian had never been good at subtlety, and if his original intention had been to make her despise him, he was doing an excellent job of it. He jerked his head towards a spirited mare, seeing the sparkle in her eyes, and she smiled with poisonous sweetness.
"Let me show you how it's done, Darrian." Without giving the saddle Andrew held out to her a cursory glance, she mounted easily and threw him a triumphant look. "The prissy little princess can ride. I just thought you'd like a demonstration, since you seem to have such strong convictions about my weaknesses and character. By the way, didn't you want to get an early start? The sun's already up, and I think you've wasted enough air and time talking. It was nice meeting you, Andrew. I hope I see you again sometime, and I promise that I'll try not to kill him along the way. But if I do happen to, you'll understand that I really didn't have a choice, won't you?" Giving him her best smile as he smirked openly and kissed her hand with a flourish, she rode out ahead of him without giving Darrian a backwards glance.
Cursing under his breath, Darrian rode after her. He called to Andrew, "See you later! And make sure to tell everyone where I've gone. Try to refrain from using the house as a safe haven. I'm afraid some of the spells aren't holding too well after I was saddled with her highness up ahead."
He grinned and nodded. "Sure. Don't worry about a thing...at least with us. You look like you could use some help–are you sure saddled is the right word to use? She doesn't even have one!"
The look the black-haired youth sent him would have buried him ten feet under if looks could kill. Fortunately for Andrew, they couldn't. He turned back inside, whistling merrily, although his mind had already shifted to transferring the news along the grapevine."
Meanwhile, Darrian finally caught up to Serenitatis–just as a guard spotted her. She had forgotten to put her hood back on, and her silvery-blond hair was distinctive. Very distinctive. It was practically a beacon, with looks like hers, Darrian thought sourly. He yanked the hood up over her head and shouted over her affronted gasp, "Move it! If you know how to ride, you'd better do it fast, because if we're stopped before we can get out of the city, we're done for! Us and Kent!"
As they made a run for it, Seren forgot to be angry with him and just rode as fast as she could, with a silent apology to her horse. Unfortunately, Darrian's mind wasn't completely occupied with the full squad of soldiers now chasing them, and his fury built up as he matched her strides. "You–you idiot, you buffoon, you fool, you oaf!! You didn't wait for me, and now look what you've gotten us into!"
She glanced at him, and when she did, she saw the guards chasing them, and her crystal blue eyes widened alarmingly. The curses that issued forth from her lovely lips momentarily stunned him, but he quickly took the lead, making for the edge of the capital, which was surrounded by dense forest.
****~**~****
Prince Kentan Divine woke up with a raging headache that threatened to crack his skull open, and during the first few minutes of his consciousness, he couldn't see or think clearly. When he did, he was greeted by the sight of his old cell and groaned. The sound attracted the attention of the other person in the room, who had his/her back turned to him. When the unknown deigned to turn around, Kent slumped as close to the ground as he could get: it seemed that today would not be his day.
Looking as picture-perfect as if she'd just stepped out of a painting, his mother smiled icily and greeted in her wonderfully-pitched, velvety voice, "Good morning, Kentan. I'm glad to see that you've finally awoken. I'd begun to get tired of waiting."
He gritted his teeth but got up and bowed. As he did so, several of his bones cracked, and his sore muscles voiced their complaints clearly. He winced and muttered, "Good morning, your grace. Was there something you wanted to discuss with me?" Kent wasn't in the mood to dance around with his words, but if she wanted to play the game, it was one two could participate in.
"Oh yes. A matter of extreme importance."
Since she seemed to be in no hurry to get to the point, Kent eventually got tired of waiting her out and said, "I know you killed Father. You murdered him. Don't think you'll get away with it."
Queen Serenitatis's eyes bored through him, but his smoky gray eyes did the exact same. One would have thought that there was nothing in front of him but the iron bars. Unfortunately, judging by the queen's cool gaze, one would have through there was nothing in front of her but the wall. "Think? I don't think, Kentan, I have. My dear, departed husband has been dead for almost twelve years now, and no one has ever even suspected that he didn't die of natural causes."
"I have proof."
"And do you think it'll do you much good while you're here? You must be wondering why you're here, actually," she said rather thoughtfully, her pale lavender eyes astute as they swept over him. "I never thought you were a very smart child, Kentan, but you proved me wrong. As a young boy, you never seemed to do much. You were always perfectly well-behaved, and you were almost mute. I was afraid you would turn out to be mute...but anyway, it seems you've developed more of a backbone than I expected. You've been sneaking out and encouraging those filthy commoners, Kentan, and I'm afraid I just can't have that. And I'm also afraid your proof will just have to stay where it is; it will never come to light. Surely you know that I can't allow that.
I never expected Serenitatis to take the throne, actually, but since you've turned out to be such a disappointment, it seems I have no choice. She was much more easy to control than you, Kentan. Perhaps she had me fooled as well, but I don't think. I was much more careful with her."
Kentan's eyes gleamed with triumph as retorted, "Yes, well, you can't exactly put her on the throne as long as she's not here, can you? The people aren't too happy about having a woman as the heir. And what about all those guardsmen who saw me last night? How will you explain that?"
When her eyes ignited dangerously, Kentan swallowed hard but stood his ground firmly. He had never been truly subjected to her wrath, and although he hated her, he had to admit that his mother was a truly unique woman. A very atypical, very angry woman at the moment. "I was wrong in allowing you to live, Kentan. I won't make the same mistake twice, but I think I'll keep you alive a bit longer." She clapped her pale, milky hands together, and one of her most trusted lackeys trotted up.
He didn't give Kentan a second glance as he made the proper obeisance, practically prostrating himself. Kent found the whole thing disgusting, really.
"Sedate him, and keep him here," Serenitatis ordered.
He looked up at her questioningly, and Kentan smiled grimly. So he had more brains than he appeared to. But it was unsurprising; Serenitatis did value intelligence in her servants–as long as theirs didn't outstrip hers. "In here, your grace? If they come again..."
"Exactly. They would never think that we would be as stupid as to keep him in the same exact cell, so this is the last place they'd look. If they even get this far. I want the watch tightened, and I want the regiments looking for my daughter doubled, understand?" After another brief exchange, he went to do her bidding, and the queen turned her attention back to her son briefly. "Well, we'll talk again soon, Kentan. Try to have better manners next time, and I'll consider letting you say goodbye to your sister before you die."
"Are you sure you'll even be able to find her?"
The rage spread across her beautiful face again, but she smoothed her features quickly and gave him a knowing, wintry look as she swept out.
Kentan was left alone again...but the victorious flush had not left him. He may have been forced to play the helpless prince time and time again, but it was time things changed. He would see that it was done.
****~**~****
AN: More explaining the meaning of names...I was rather unsubtle hinting about them ^^;. Tiassale means "to be forgotten" and Amaranth is "immortal." (In case it's been too much text ago, these two places are actually the same place and the eventual destination of just about every character in this story!)
If anyone appreciates the relatively-quick updates on this story, compliment Yoshi! ^^ She likes it!! And she motivates me to write for it...yay!!
Well...hope everything's going okay so far. I know the plot is very, very confusing. In fact, I have problems keeping things straight. So we'll go slow, okay? Nice and slow. Very slow. ^^;
I apologize for the lack of Reisha and Jalen. They have a nice, long scene in the next chapter, so be patient and review ^.~ and it might come out quicker. There will also be more of Seren/Darrian, for those who asked for it, and I'm sorry for neglecting Lalita so much, but I had to get Mina and Nath out of the palace first.
I also apologize for my poetry skills. I'm not very good at poetry...but typically, prophecies are supposed to be poetic. I don't want to reveal the entire prophecy yet, since the other parts are lying in bits and pieces, but the entire version can be found on my webpage, at GOTOBUTTON BM_1_ http://www.angelfire.com/anime2/soulmates/prophecy.htm . Thank you for reading!
~Ice