Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters. They are the works of minds long ago forgotten, Garth Nix, and some ideas from the mind of JRR Tolkien and the minds at WETA Workshop over in New Zealand.
A/N: Hope you like this new story
P.s.: This is a long prologue......... lol
Navras
Prologue
A creature sat on a high-backed throne of human skulls and carcasses. It sat in a dark room with a very high ceiling, so high that you couldn't see the top. Horns arched around its head, like a ram's. However, the creature's face was that of a human man, handsome, yet hideous at the same time. His nose always seemed to be scrunched up, in a sneering expression; then again, this creature was usually angry. Long, straight black hair sprouted from his scalp, ending at his shoulders where the fire the creature induced singed his hairs. The creature had the body of a well- built man, but cracks of red lava veined out from his dark black skin. Great shadowy black wings grew out of his back, and were now folded behind it so the being could sit. His nostrils flared. Steam coiled around them like snakes ready to strike. He was mad, as always. A black robe was wrapped around his body. A black cape was fastened around his neck with a cat's red eye, looking this way and that, for intruders of any kind, if any would come at all.
Hades curled his fingers into a fist. Red fire swarmed up his arm coming from his clenched fingers like a horde of angry bees, and encompassed his body in flames. Anger roiled in his void-like, black eyes. He slammed his fist onto the armrest, melting the bones around it. The Seeing Mirror hung suspended in the air before his face; curls of mist and fog swirled around its silver frame. He cursed.
"No! This was not supposed to happen!" Hades yelled with a harsh, hair- raising voice.
A girl, no, more like a woman stood shivering in the mirror, facing a great black being advancing toward her. Her back was to Hades, but he knew who the woman was. No sound came from the Mirror, but Hades knew that screams echoed around Wyverly College. Dead spirits would soon start flowing down the River, he knew, oh he knew. The great black being was saying something, its torn mouth curling into a wicked smile. The girl drew something from her chest, a bell. A sword was in the Greater Dead's sharp claws. The girl faltered. The being's eyes were beginning to grow pale, and luminous. White fire began to lick the empty sockets of its eyes.
The Shadow of a Man once great thrust Binder, the Abhorsen's sword into the woman's stomach. The Charter Symbols on the sword flared a bright silver, and then died. The woman crashed to the ground, held down by her own sword. Sabriel lay on the floor, unmoving, tears drifting down her pale cheeks. Kerrigor opened his mouth wide, and cackled, but his laugh was cut short. The white fire was rising in his throat like bile, coating every shadowed part in hot flames. A panicked look threw off his delight. "No!" Kerrigor mouthed, his eyes grew wide.
The white fire engulfed him, lighting the Mirror's surface with a bright, pure white. A silent scream echoed around Hades' dark hall, and then the light subsided back into darkness. A white cat, no, a white cat and a black cat joined at the midriff appeared instead of Kerrigor. The two cats pulled apart from each other, looking around with bright green eyes. A small bell at both of their necks rang a soft, low note as they swiveled their heads. They yawned, curled up next to each other, and slept. Hades heard the bell's voice, and his eyelids drooped a bit. He shook the sleepiness away. Ranna, he thought, holds too tight on me.
The Seeing Mirror glazed over, and went dark. In a flash of light, it disappeared to be called again for later use in the future. There was no more to be seen. Hades had failed. Kerrigor, his servant, had failed. "No.............." wailed Hades. Hot fire coursed up his arms. He clenched his spiny fingers again, and placed his head in his hands. This was not going as he planned. Nothing did go as he planned, even when he was younger and wiser. But, then again, he was not part of The Nine. He was the Tenth. The Forgotten One, as most dead things are. Orannis was his brother. He always got the glory, but now, it was Hades' turn.
Hades smiled at the thought. The red fire was quenched like water was poured onto it, and Hades started to cackle a hysterical laugh. Now he was to be remembered. Hades knew of his twin brother's plan of ruling Life with all of Hades' Dead. Hades ruled the River, The King of the Underworld. However, not many knew of him, because he was just born, born from Death itself. Hades stood, and looked at the ceiling to his study. Stagnant, warm water, black with death, dripped down onto his face. Steam rose from his cheek.
"I will defeat you, Abhorsen!!"
The red fire now swarmed up his legs, up his body, and soon sent itself up through the cavernous ceiling, and up over the River's stilled surface. The River's face boiled, growing hotter and hotter. Steam rose from its surface like fog. The River turned a blood red. The eternal stars above the River were snuffed, the souls and the Dead screamed as their overlord stirred the river with his hateful fire. The Ninth Precinct became pitch black, save for the red of the River.
"You Will See!!!!!!" Hades screamed. A new era had begun.
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A little boy waddled up the lane, accompanied by a large lunch box, fishing tackle, a rod too big for him, and a small fish in one chubby hand still attached to the hook. He was smiling that cute, boyish, happy smile with his cute chubby, baby cheeks. He beamed. A fish! He had caught a fish! The boy was three years old, with sun-kissed blonde hair, and deep brown eyes to match his mother's.
The small boy had been fishing in the Fishing Tower to the South of Abhorsen's house, not where he was supposed to be. The happy boy cut across the grass, another thing he wasn't supposed to be doing, and walked toward Alliel's fountain. Water played out of the spigot high above his head. The spray from the fountain splashed the boy's face as he approached. He giggled, and put down his belongings, the dead fish flopped on the ground as it hit the grass. The boy cupped his hands, and sidled over to the spigot. He placed his hands under the spray. Cold water met his hot fingers.
He brought his "cup" to his lips, and drank a mouthful of the cool water. He smiled, and let the rest of the draining water dribble back into the fountain. He collected his things, and walked around the fountain. He walked to the Great Fig Tree and the north lawn. The three year old jumped onto the main path with a leap, and snagged some purple flowers from the bushes lining the road. He knew mother would like them, and so would father. Daddy likes purple, the boy thought, and Mummy likes purple.
"They be happy." The boy said, with the incorrect use of grammar. But you still have to account for his age, mind you.
The boy waddled to the front door of Abhorsen's House. He smiled a great toothy grin, and remembered that he still had the fish. "Fish! I caught a fish!" he said to the great oak door, even taller than his father was. He scrunched up his face, waiting for the door to open, or for one of those funny men in the cowls to come around the bend and tell him to follow him to the herb garden where his mother usually was, if she wasn't attacking the Dead. But, alas, no one came. The boy harrumphed, and switched his flowers to his right hand. He let go of the fish, and let it dangle on its line. The boy brought his hand up and knocked on the door many times. He did not know how many times he knocked, for he couldn't count. He was to learn numbers tomorrow.
This time, someone did come to the door, his mother. She was breathing very hard and color was spreading throughout her pale cheeks. "Navras!!" she said loudly. "Where have you been?! We have been looking everywhere! Oh I was so worried!" She bent down, and enveloped Navras in a big hug, her hand shimmered as she embraced him tightly.
Navras heard footsteps coming from the inside of his house, and knew it was his father. It was, and he opened the door wider. Nicholas Sayre was flushed too. He said, looking down at the woman, "Lirael, what is it? We have to keep looking for Nav--" He looked down, and saw the boy and mother holding each other. Nick placed a hand over his heart. "Bless the Charter!" He said relieved. Lirael let go of her son.
Navras held out his hand, and said, "Flowers! Fish!"
Lirael took the purple flowers, and exclaimed, "Oh Navras, they are so beautiful! We shall put them on the dining table, right Nick?"
Nick gestured to the fish.
"Oh yes, we shall. That fish you caught there, well have that for dinner, alright?"
Lirael and Nick smiled at their son. Navras smiled back. Navras took his mother's extended hand, and waddled inside with his happy family.
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"You don't think we spoil him too much?" Lirael asked Nick as they sat in the Great hall after dinner. Navras was brought up to bed by the sending that took care of him when Lirael was away. Of course, Navras had stolen out of bed and stepped down the stairs in his white night gown to listen to his parents' conversation. He was a sly one, because Lirael and Nick never heard him, even with their keen sense of hearing. Navras was proud that he could be as silent as a mouse whenever he wanted to be. Navras poked his head around the posts of the open doors that lead into the Hall.
"Well, my mother would have spanked me for being out where I was no supposed to be............"
Lirael snapped her head up to look at Nick. "I would never hurt my child! That is preposterous!"
"I know what you mean, but Ancelstierre is much different than The Old Kingdom."
"Yes, I know............. But your mother should have never done that."
"Well, tell that to mum."
Lirael smiled, and stood up. She walked over to Nick, her red dinner dress flowing out behind her. Navras thought, Mummy is pretty. He smiled, and thought, I love Mummy and Daddy. He ducked his head behind the door again. "Eeeeeew!" he muttered and scrunched his face in a grimace. Lirael had just kissed Nick soundly on the mouth, her hands around his shoulders. "Don't worry Nick, we won't do that to our son."
Navras poked his head back around the door. Lirael still had her arms around his neck, her golden hand shimmering against his blue coat. Her back was to Navras, so he only heard Lirael's voice seemingly from far away. Nick patted Lirael's arm, and said, "Well, I guess I should get back to my work. This electricity won't make itself."
"Oh Nick! Not the electicalicity! We've been over this! No Ancelstierran power can work over here!" She sighed vexed. Nick nodded, "Its electricity.........Oh, I know, but how about Charter and Free magic electricity over here?"
Lirael was silent, supposedly thinking. "I don't think it will work, but I guess you can try."
Nick smiled, and rose. Lirael took her arms from his shoulders. "Nick, I'm going to go to bed. I'll see you in a bit? I don't want you to stay up all night, ok?
Nick smiled, and said, "Alright. Yes -- mother." A bit sarcastic, though. Lirael gave Nick a playful punch with her golden charter-made hand. Nick wrapped his arm about her waist, and walked her out of the Hall. Navras scooted behind the door, and watched as his parents walked up the stair case right next to him. As soon as their footsteps could not be heard, Navras pulled himself out from behind the door. He grinned a fox-like grin, and hobbled up the stairs. Daddy would sure need help with his experiment, Navras reasoned. He counted the flights of stairs, but before he got to the third flight, he slowed to a tiptoe. The Abhorsen's bedroom was very close by............ Navras tiptoed up the next flight, and ended up at the study, his father's workroom. Lights and the warmth of the charter wrapped themselves around Navras. Already Navras was baptized with the mark of Mosrael on his forehead, and could do some magic. He knew how to clean his room and make breakfast already. Navras also smelt the metallic tang of Free Magic. His nose twitched, and he scrunched it up, not enjoying the smell of it. He swallowed down his vomit, and quietly walked over to the door of the study.
He pushed open the door a crack, and saw his father bent over a lantern that usually held candles. Nicholas was breaking out in a cold sweat, the beads of it rippled down his red face, and golden charter marks gleamed all around him. They did a sort of dance around his hand as the spell was molded into a piece of metal that Navras didn't know. Navras opened the door more, and yelled, "Daddy needs help! I will help Daddy!"
Nick swung his head over, his eyes a burning white. The Free Magic was taking over the Charter magic within him. Navras felt a burning on his forehead, and slapped some sausage-like fingers over his Charter Mark. Drool hung down from Nicholas's mouth. He curled his lips into a wicked smile. All Navras saw then was the flash of a bright light aimed at his face, and the only thing he remembered was that his father had held up his hand and white light had ruptured from it.
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A small scream pierced the still night. Lirael sat bolt upright in her and Nick's king-sized bed. It sounded an awful lot like her son.......... The scream was coming from the study upstairs. Nick's workroom. Whenever Nick did any sort of magic, Lirael was sure to be away from him. The sliver of The Destroyer still left residue of Free Magic in him........... She hadn't checked to see if Navras was in bed!
"Navras!!!!!!" Lirael screamed. Lirael quickly jumped out of bed, nightgown and all. Lirael hurdled the array of bell bandoliers and chests scattered along the floor of her room. As she reached the door, it flung open. She had already whispered the spell to open the door at her command. The night had become unnaturally silent and dark, cold wafts of air shrouded the windows in a blanket of mist.
Lirael made a quick right-turn into the reading room and bounded up the stairs to Nick's study ........... Lirael took the stairs five at a time, formulating the marks of healing in her head. Lirael reached the door to the workroom, and flung it open.
Nick was slouched on the floor, still breathing, holding his son in his limp arms. Lirael gasped. Nick looked up, pain and anguish in his eyes. Tears flowed freely down his pallid cheeks. "I—I'm sorry.......... he came......... I couldn't control myself........" Lirael crouched down and brushed Navras's blonde hair away from his eyes. Navras's eyes were closed, but Lirael could feel a small pulse against his temple. Blood started to flow out from the bottom lid of his eye. Lirael felt tears stain her cheeks and sting her eyes. Navras twitched. Lirael gasped again. His charted mark was gleaming now with a pale silver light, growing stronger each time Navras twitched again. After a moment, he mumbled, "Daddy? Mommy? What happened?"
The young boy of three opened his eyes. Lirael screamed.
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Sameth had been traveling all day. He wearily trudged into a small hamlet, not big enough to be a town. Rain had been predicted in the almanac that Sam kept with him, and it was right. Small pellets rained down onto his body, drenching him in cold water. The rain had been relentless all day, and Sam was so tired he could barely walk. He was walking to Roble's town to do some business with the local merchant for Sam's odds and ends. He had become quite famous with his trinkets, and even had his own business in Belisare. He heaved his pack back up onto his shoulder. It was full of all his trinkets for selling, some money, and an extra pair of clothes.
As he walked into the town, head bent against the howling wind, he heard something behind him. He looked behind his shoulder, but saw nothing except the muddy tracks he had made just moments before, now washing away. He shook his head, and turned back around. He was heading toward an inn not too far away, called the White Stag. He'd heard about it from another traveler on the road, and the traveler said it was quite good, for being in a small hamlet. Lanterns swinging from posts mounted on a house beckoned Sameth to shelter and a warm bed. A small sign wavered in the wind. It read: The White Stag, with a great white deer head underneath the fancy script. Sam sighed a sigh of relief, and hobbled over to the inn.
He pushed open the oak door, and walked in, trailing mud and rain into the swept, bare, dirt floor. Sam took off his wide brimmed traveler's hat, and shook himself out of his cloak. A bar maid with a bonnet placed idly on her head, rushed over and took his things. She placed them on a coat rack on a wall. A few people occupied the few wooden chairs and tables. They all looked at the wet Prince. The bar man leaned over the counter, and set down his flagon he was cleaning with a rag.
"What brings you to the White Stag, mister........?" The bartender said in a low, gravelly voice of a hard worker. The man raised an eyebrow.
"Wade. I was just traveling to Roble's town, good sir." Sam said with a bow, taking up his secret identity as Sir Wade. Better not to expose himself as Prince of Belisare. Who knows who might try to kill him these days, with Ellimere Queen and Sabriel and Touchstone long dead. Atleast they stayed on this earth long enough to see their nephew. The bartender nodded, and said, "Well, Mr. Wade, we have a few rooms open tonight. How long will you be staying?"
Sameth looked up from the floor, "Oh, only tonight. I need to be going tomorrow. Important business." He smiled a small smile, and reached into his pocket, and drew out a large gold coin. He slapped it onto the mahogany counter, and asked, "Will this be enough?"
The bartender's brown eyes grew wide, and whispered, "That is too much, sir, too much!" He coughed, and said it more loudly. Sameth winked and said to him, "Keep the change, sir."
"Oh, thank you! Thank you!! This is greatly appreciated!" The man broke into a large grin. "The best room in the house, Rose!"
The bar maid nodded enthusiastically, and led Sam up some stairs near the door. She sighed, and said, "Thank you, Sir Wade. That was a great deed you did. We haven't had enough money to feed our children and that small gesture, now that has saved us at least one of our children."
The woman turned around, and embraced Sam right on the stairs. "Thank you, thank you!"
Sam patted the woman. She broke away, teary eyed. He smiled, and said, "I do have more, ma'am. Do you need anything?"
She shook her head, "You've given us more than we've hoped for."
Rose turned back around, and led Sam up the stairs a little more. When they got to the landing, they snaked into a room to the left on the left-hand- side. The room had a small bed with a brightly colored quilt for a sheet. White pillows were stacked at the head of the bed. Its foot was facing the right side of the cozy room. One round window looked out onto the wet, muddy street, when you looked from the door. A small desk was stationed underneath the little, portly hole with a cushioned chair pushed under. Sam smiled. This was a perfect room. So cozy and neat. I will surely come back here again! Sam thought.
Rose interrupted his thoughts and said, "I will bring up any food you desire. Will you be needing anything?" Sam nodded, "Yes, I am a bit hungry." A growling sound erupted around Sam's navel. Sameth blushed. Rosie laughed and said, "Something mightily heavy then? How about roast beef and some mashed potatoes?"
"That would be lovely."
"I'll bring that up in a bit."
Rosie turned around and walked back out of the door. "Anything you need, just holler!"
"Alright!"
Rosie walked away, humming a bright tune. Sam sauntered into the room, and flopped onto the warm bed. He sighed, and squeezed out of his wet pack. He threw it onto the floor, too tired to place it onto the desk. He was even too tired to change his soggy clothes. They were only a bit damp, because the oilskin cloak shed most of the water droplets off. The soothing sound of rain pattered the window. Sam closed his eyes.
All of a sudden, there was a knock on his door. Sam opened a sleepy eye, and asked, "Who is it?" No one answered. "Now that is rude." Sam muttered. The knock came again. He grunted, and pulled himself up. He shuffled over to the door, and wearily opened it. A woman was standing in the doorway. She was dressed in all white, and her clothes were very wet. Her sopping hair was a firey copper, and wavy. The candles in their niches in the walls reflected off her hair. Even though she was the most beautiful person Sam ever saw, what caught his attention were her eyes. They were as tawny as a hawk's, and as bright as the sun. The woman was frowning ever so slightly. Her red lips moved, and she said, "I can't pay my rent."
Sam looked confused. "But these people are so nice! I would think they would let you stay the night on the house.........."
A voice from downstairs echoed, "No rent, no bed!" It was someone else's voice, not Rosie's or the bartender's. Sam guessed it was the manager, or at least someone who employed those nice people. Sam shrugged, blushed, and said, "I don't think there are any rooms left.......... I guess you could share mine?"
The woman smiled, and said, "That would be most kind of you."
Sam couldn't resist the beauty that stood before him. He opened the door wider, and ushered the lady in. She nodded a faint nod, and waltzed into the room. "This is lovely." She remarked. Sam closed the door, and said, "Yes you are—I mean, yes, this is a nice room, isn't it?" Sam blushed as the woman smiled at him. "I didn't catch your name, Ms." Sam remarked to quickly change the subject. "My name is Surya"
"Surya................" Whispered Sameth. It was the most beautiful name he had ever heard. He was caught in a trance. The most beautiful woman with the most beautiful name stood before him. Surya began to peel off her clothes, because they were evidently wet. Sam blushed a deeper red, and turned swiftly around, his curls madly flying. He hadn't felt this way about anyone since Lirael and her mistaken identity as a single woman, not as his Aunt. Sam felt all hot and tingly. His face grew to a crimson red.
"Do you have any spare clothes, sir?" Surya asked.
"Uh—yes—in my pack on the floor."
Sam heard some shuffling, and some tugging on. "I don't believe I know your name, good sir. I've told you mine, now it is only fair that you tell me yours."
"Sa—Sameth." Sam stuttered.
"Sameth, now that is a princely name, isn't it."
Sam gulped, and issued out a fain yes. "You can turn around now, Sameth."
Sam did turn, and saw that Surya was sitting on the bed, wearing his spare wool shirt and leggings. She was smiling. She does that often, doesn't she? Sam thought. She must be a very happy person. "Come, sit." Surya motioned for Sam to sit next to her. He walked over cautiously, and sat down next to the lady. Something happened then, Sam did not expect. She leant over, and gave him a big kiss right on the lips. "Thank you." She murmured.
"Your—your welcome."
Sam felt heat rise up into his face. Never had he felt this way about any woman. Surya felt this way too. The moment the two kissed, she knew this, Sameth, was the right man. Sam leaned in, and kissed Surya back.