No. Mighty Ducks, the animated series not mine.
But Princess Ambrosia and story are mine ^_^

~*~*~*~*~

Chapter III

~*~*~*~*~



Few words were exchanged between them, their meeting swift and silent. A heartbeat later, the avian leapt onto his steed and sped into the night, leaving the lizard behind to choke upon dust disturbed with unrest…


~*~*~*~

His mount reared up without warning, kicking at an invisible barrier. The rider hissed in annoyance and brought his mighty equine down, "What the deuc—"

"What bring ye to these parts of the wood at this unholy hour, dearest knight…?" came a young voice upon the whispers of shadows, echoing around the irritated swordsman. "And so alone besides…?"

"How should my riding this night be any business of yours?!" the angered horseman retorted, eyes darting past the leaves of the trees surrounding him, sword drawn as his warning against his unseen adversary, "Who shall you be…? Show yourself…!!"

Youthful laughter masking its owner's position blanketed the confines around the confused swordsman. "O ye of little intelligence… Have you no idea whose presence you stand before…? Surely you do not make demands of the *Prince* of Thieves…?"

"Prince of Thieves…? Ha – do not make me laugh…" the armored man mocked the innocent lilt his ears discerned, "If one so young can be a Prince in these parts, then I of the Royal House can be crowne—"

There was no sound, only movement. Within the span of a single heartbeat, the ghost of a shadow swooped down from above him, groped past his cape and catapulted itself into the sanctuary of the trees. The leaves only rustled quietly as if to sweep away all evidence of the attack if at all…

"Quite a collection you keep beneath your finery, dearest knight…" the voice of his assailant commented, again seemingly emanating from all directions. Simultaneously, the palace guard made inventory of what had been stolen, hands patting his robes…

"Return what is mine before I cut your throa—"

"Think you the Prince of Thieves would be alone, dearest knight…?" the wind could not hide the laugh behind the smiling tone. A moment later, a dozen candles were lit, their positions strategic enough to shadow the hooded silhouettes of a band of bandits hiding in the trees, arrows drawn towards him. A sigh, "How say you I show mercy and spare you your life, dearest knight…?"

Burning with incredulity, the sword-bearer could only quake with shamed defeat. Slamming his blade home, he snarled to the night with listening ears, "Beware, O Prince of Tasteless Humor, enjoy my fine things while you can – for when I return, I shall slaughter all of you yet…!!" Yanking at the reins, the man fled into the night, heart and hide intact, even if lost wit and wealth… Behind him, the clearing shook with amusement…

Glancing at his prize – the Royal Guard's Medallion of Honor – the bandit teen chuckled as he snuffed the last of his candles. Tugging at the bows of his companions of the night, he disarmed them all and pushed them back into the hollow of the trees hiding their identities.

"Candles and puppets in the dark," he muttered as he descended the trees, his legs automatically walking him homeward. Bouncing the small bag of gold between his hands, he grinned, "Gets them every time…"


~*~*~*~

Far away and high above a sleeping city, two souls hidden from the eyes of most were about to intertwine with one another for better or worst…

He stood behind her and rested both hand on her shoulders, slowly sliding himself downwards to her elbows. She drew a sharp breath, but did not withdraw. He took the opportunity to press his luck, slowly encircling her waist, bringing her closer to himself. She turned her head away from him, the slightest of protests. He succumbed to the temptation of her exposed neck, lips closing onto her skin, sucking gently. She whimpered, her fingers tightening against his hand. He either heeded her not, or heard her not, for he did not stop, marking her as his where no dress could cover…

"P-please, M'Lord…" she stammered.

"My advisors grow impatient, dearest one…" he confessed huskily, traveling higher to nibble on a lobe, "I know not how to appease them…" He cradled her against him, his gesture suggestive.

She squirmed, "B-but… I am not… not yet r-ready…"

He sighed, halting all gentle ministrations, but did not let her go. "I am sorry… My duty to the Kingdom must precedes your comfort—"

At this, she turned to see his eyes, "Nay, M;Lord… I-I… I should be the one apologizing…" Hanging her head, she explained, "My call for you to wait has delayed our chance of i-intimacy…

"M'Lord… I-I am… unclean… at this moment…"

He immediately released his hold on her, realizing her words. She timidly stepped away from him, holding herself slightly…

Suddenly, he let out a small, uncharacteristic laugh. He took up a hand and kissed it lightly, "My Lady, you are one in a million…"

Her eyes turned upwards, innocent blue searching, "You are not… o-of-fended, M'Lord…?" Staring at their intertwined fingers, she frowned, "M-men dare not s-speak to an unclean w-woman… much less t-touch her…"

"I am your husband, beloved… Your feminine cycle shall be something I should grow accustom to, hmm…?" Bridging the gap between them, he sighed, "Though, beloved, you cannot make me wait forever… Forgive me, but my advisors press us to procure an heir—" he pressed against her belly, making her blush, "I did not lie to say they grow impatient…"

Sensing her unease, he decided to withdraw. Smiling, he teased, "Furthermore, the chaise grows uncomfortable…"

"Y-yes, I have noticed… Your gait tells of a sore back and a painful neck…" her words were light, hiding the smile unseen on her lips. It was only later when she realized the implication of her words, "D-does… does this mean you wish to s-share the b-bed, S-sire…?"

Stroking a cheek, he gave his answer, "It is still your decision, dear Heart…"

"And should I say yes…?"

He frowned, "I would ask if you are confident with your answer… I cannot promise I will not touc—"

She shook her head, "I cannot deny you… `tis your r-right—"

"But I cannot forc—"

"I would like you to…" she breathed, shy eyes staring past the thick curtain veiling her blushing masque.

He studied her, eyes narrowing. These last words from her lips were not coerced from her throat, nor said with contempt… To his surprise, her voice seemed so resolute… so sure…

"I ask you one last time, Ambrosia – you are absolutely—"

"Yes."

He said nothing. Instead, he turned away from her and melded with the shadows of the bedroom, leaving her to the mercy of the winds. She watched him as his warmth departed, silent and frighteningly calm. Shivering with the fear her sudden decision might have wrought, she followed only lonely moments after…

Once her eyes had adjusted to the darkness, she pierced the darkness in search for her betrothed – only to find him on the bed, dressed lightly for sleep. She gasped softly, rooted to the floor. Using the same words issued on their first night together in this room, he beckoned her, "Come to me, my Queen… Let us prepare for bed…"

Shakily, the faithful bride did as she was told, obeying his command till she was clad only in a semi-transparent underdress, luminescent in the lunar glow. Gingerly, she climbed into her marriage bed, tentatively approaching its other occupant. Though the room was dark, she could sense his smile…

"I cannot bed you, my love… not when you are like this…" his rich voice assured, gently guiding her in his arms, her crown rested on his chest. Caressing a cheek as an arm encircled her waist, he soothed, "Please… only lie quietly beside me…"

He felt her heart beat furiously against his own, so afraid was she. Yet… yet… though there were a million reasons for her to flee, she stayed, choosing to trust him as she closed her eyes, curling against his side. With every leaving breath, her apprehension faded, the pulsating fear ebbed…

Granting her a singular kiss on her peaceful brow, he smiled as he allowed himself to spiral into Morpheus' realm, his last though echoing, Finally, beloved… I have won you over…


~*~*~*~

The youth's return to his band was heralded with much small celebration, many jumping to greet him after his long absence. The clamor drew the attention of their bandit leader, the weathered adult stepping past the flaps of his tent to discern the reason behind the joyous hubbub…

"Father…!!" a child's voice caught his ears as small running footsteps approached him. The elder broke into a wide smile and swung his dark-haired daughter into the air by her waist, a waterfall of giggles its result. Tickling the small bundle under her beak, he enquired, "What is it, little one…? What is the cause for such sudden excitement…"

"The Trickste—I mean, brother has returned, father…!!" the girl informed as she bounced in his embrace, pointing away from the tent to where her people had gathered. "Look, look…!! Brother swiped this pretty necklace for me…!!" she brought of the golden medallion to her paternal parent's eyes.

Eyeing the glinting prize, the tall one gasped, "Hand that over to me, my angel…" Setting the young one on the ground, he gestured to her, "Now, let us find that brother a'yours…"

"Hurry, father…!!"

The crowd parted as the imposing figure of their leader strode past them, his eyes set upon the golden-haired boy at its axis. The blond turned to acknowledge his elder's nearing, "Father…"

The taller male held out the circle bearing the Royal Crest for the world to view and pass judgment…

"You took on a member of the Royal House…?" the tone behind his voice was devoid of emotion, eyes still and darkening.

"Yes, father…" the boy confessed, gulping. "Was that wrong to do so, father…?"

"Wrong…? Wrong…?!" the darker-clad elder repeated calmly, "What you did was more than wrong…!!"

The boy cringed, fearing disapproval—

—only to be slammed into his proud father's chest, enveloped in a powerful embrace.

"My son, it was *brilliant*…!!" the beaming man crowed, disengaging contact from the stunned boy as the gathering erupted into cheers once more. "Sending you out alone to prove your place amongst us, thinking that you'll rob a passing carriage of some pompous old courtier at best – you prove your worth and more by besting a *ROYAL* GUARD…!!" Examining the intricately patterned emblem, he weighed it tentatively in his hand, "My word, I wonder how much one of these discs are worth…??!"

The youngest amongst them tugged at the boy's tunic, wanting to be carried upon his lithe shoulders. Cheerfully, the blue-eyed youth complied, swinging the small girl above the mass of people preparing to feast with an even greater cause at his accomplishment…

"Brother, brother, was it hard…?" the lass questioned, peering over his head to seek his face. As the family unit left the bustling community, homeward bound, he shook his head and replied, "It was at first, but you forget your brother's a cunning little *genius*…!!"

"Haha…" the father commented dryly as he parted the flaps leading to their makeshift home, "Say that anymore times and your pride twould be your downfall…"

"Nuh-uh…!!" the girl protested against her parent as she was lifted from her perch, her brother sprawled himself onto a pile of skins in mock exhaustion, "Brother would never lose. He'll take on another Royal Guard, just for the sake of us – right, brother…?"

Sitting up and grinning, the boy's eye held a spark of determination, "Nay. Now that I've proven I can slip myself past a Royal Guard, I'm aiming for bigger game…!!"

The father rolled his eyes at the scene as his wife came by him to be held, their shared attention resting upon their beloved children. Shaking his head, he sighed absently, "He canna have gotten so big an ego from me – I swear he's adopted, through and through…"

The auburn-crowned woman shifted, and he looked down. Seeing the familiar question in her eyes, he soothed her silently, his arms tightening reassuringly. "Nay, of course he is…

"But from this day forth, his blood is of our house, and that is that, through and through…"


~*~*~*~

"You canna hide in your chambers all day, dear friend…" came the exasperated tone wafting past the doors as a few maids strained to hear, pressing themselves against the oaken leaves leading to the spell-room. A mist of silver-and-violet dust clouded their feet, but they fretted not. Random palace staff changing into many a furry forest creatures they had seen before – the greatest Swords Sister of the Brotherhood attempting to drag the reserved Magick Mistress to the morning bazaar they had not…

"But I have so much work to do still…!!" came the weak protest followed by a series of crashes and thumps (and inevitably, more mists of silver-and-violet…) made the girls giggle and winced alternatingly. "Look you – security wards, healing sticks, and—hey…!! So that's where my wand disappeared to…!!"

"I am *not* about to let you waste your well-earned holiday by lounging around more books, dear heart…!! The palace has been well taken care off – you've been conjuring up security wards for more than three days already…!!" What sounded like books tumbling off the shelves graced their ears. "And the Queen has recovered well – besides, what are the palace healers for…?!?!" An explosion, a clang of metal upon metal, a squawk from the spellmistress' faithful owl. "And speaking of that wand…"

The doors burst open, giving the maids a fright, as a blur of red and brown flying away from the doors, "… race you to the stables, my friend…!!"

The mage stared at her disappearing companion with a jaw hanging slightly comically, before snapping from her daze as eight little faces peered past her open doorway.

"Ack, *no*…!!" the frantic magician tore after her comrade, mauve-violet robes trailing, "Come back here with my wand, you little thief…!!"

The awestruck servants stared at one another for a moment or two, a silent agreement forged. Gingerly, they gathered their things and parted company, each to their own chores…

Out of the blue, the King wondered why laughter echoed past the halls that strange day…


~*~*~*~

"A summon to patrol the streets…?" the gray one grumbled, glaring down at the parchment in his hand. Hissing vehemently as he crumpled the amber piece of paper in his hand and threw it into the fire with disgust, "Is this not a guard's errand, not mine…?"

"Indeed…" his comrade agreed most whole-heartedly, bringing the other's sword-belt for him, "But until I find my emblem again, I cannot go into the city beyond the palace walls – canna you take my place this once while I seek to have my medallion reforged…? It is only this one time, I promise…"

"A fool you are to lose your emblem…!!" the elder spat, snatching his offered belt in reluctance, "I warn you, ol'chap – only this once…!!"

"I would repay your kindness duly…" the falcon-like avian replied, bowing as the Royal Knight strode past him, ignoring his pledges.

A sad mistake, as the sincerity faded from those eyes and entered malevolent intent, "Hook, line and sinker…"


~*~*~*~

"My companions are where, you say…?" the neo-Queen questioned quietly, narrowing her eyes in incomprehension. Around her small figure, her handmaidens scurried to make perfect her attire to the last detail…

"Your Personal Guard left with the Mage into the city upon an errand, and His Majesty's right-hand-man is on patrol…" the knight kneeling before her repeated, his head bowed low. "I have been sent to take their place to protect you during your ride…"

"I was not informed of such sudden change of plans…" the slight woman replied, her head hanging with mild disappointment – she had grown to love her riding companions though they were but her protectors, her position leaving little chance of pursuing genuine friendship. Sighing, she nodded, "Very well… You shall be my guide for the afternoon, then…?"

"I am honored to be of service to you…" the knight hid a smile capable of sending demons themselves scattering for safety, "… *M'Lady*…"


~*~*~*~

Her daily explorations of the castle grounds were tiresome, for she had never ridden before she had been brought to this quaint country… It was her resolve to please her husband by learning of his Kingdom independently (albeit borrowing aid from his most loyal subjects) that led her upon this strange excursion by horseback everyday, painting a mental image of the gardens and the woods so close to the palace.

Resting by the waterfall she had passed the day before, she waited patiently for her riding chaperone to return from his reconnaissance. As she had done so since her personal guard had taught her how, she smiled as she withdrew her Protector Blade and began polishing its gleaming length, whispering the prayers of her ancestors…

Her personal guard…

The cherry-braided woman was sent to enter the Kingdom's service with a sharp tongue and a sharper sword, besting the bravest of her father's knights as proof of her abilities to guard one so precious to the Kingdom (if not her closest family). However, it came as a surprising lesson to the temperamental foreigner that her charge was very much her direct opposite – reserved where she was sociable, quiet where she was rambunctious, naïve where she was exposed. It made both women feel rather awkward towards the other…

Strange circumstances led the quiescent princess to her bodyguard one night following a frightful dream, only to find the elder female polishing her few chosen weapons. Curiosity replaced fear as she carefully drew forward, enchanted by the gleaming steel – for though she had seen many in her lifetime, the youngest Princess was forbidden to wield one, as punishment for her tainted heritage…

The straightforward aide saw little reason behind the Royal command, and as their little secret, allowed the smaller one hold her most precious arm. One night led to two, then twelve, and before long, the lunar rotation saw them through simple sword-handling to actual swordplay… And all this was done without the knowledge of any another, the invaluable clandestine activity bonding two souls tighter than the bonds of blood and water…

His footsteps were silent, or had she been so lost in thought to be ill-prepared…? Either way, the blade to her throat and arm restraining her limbs held her captive, forcing her wandering mind to the present. The twisted version of a familiar voice hissed, "Stand up, woman…"

Though timid in nature, her Personal Guard and dearest confidant had not spent countless afternoons training her amidst a hidden wood for naught. Her enemy had expected a yielding woman weak with all the comforts of royal opulence, thus the element of surprise was her advantage as she drove her scabbard into his unguarded midsection whilst she whirl around, her Protector Sword drawn and ready…

She had been prepared to challenge an unknown adversary. However, the face of her recent attacker let a gasp escape her lips, "It canna—"

The Royal Guard growled from where he had fallen, stormy eyes clouded with distaste. "So sorry to have kept you waiting, *M'Lady*," his voice dripped with the most potent acid as he stood, snapping his fingers. Mechanical puppets entered the clearing, each a crossbow aimed to strike. The avian guardian brushed at his slightly sullied garments, "But as you can see, I ran into some old friends…"

Though knowing her rights to guard her pride, one knew when she was overpowered. She glared disbelievingly at her so-called guide and chaperone, "So, you would betray your own Queen and country…?!"

He grinned, bouncing a small sack in his hand. "For the right amount of gold…? Yes…" Shrugging in nonchalance, he continued, "After all, there are bigger fish to fry – and you, M'Lady, are mere bait…"

Her eyes widened, "Goddess – you are after the King…!!"

With unknown swiftness, he brought a crossbow from under his cloak. Her scream pierced the silent forest, sending many a wild-birds taking flight…

He stepped on her fallen sword, ignoring the crimson splattered against the hilt of Galaxian gold. Pouncing on the weakness of injury, he held her thrashing form to the ground. She spat at him, panic stifling her, yet anger sustaining her for now, "A traitor to the throne…!! Would you rather submit to the gallows for treason, forsaking all your potential's worth…?"

He laughed. A second arrow was launched into a random drone, its center of control destroyed, leaving it an inactive shell of a machine, limbs twisted haphazardly as it fell. It companions did not flinch, trained onto the blue-eyed goddess amidst the pooling blood. "And who's to say I was responsible for any of this, M'Lady…? A mechanical soldier of Saurian-make would send the King away towards the West, searching to reclaim his beloved beauty from the Land Beyond. But 'twould be a fruitless journey, his corpse to rot in a battlefield where sleeping Dragons have awakened from restless slumber, battle-ready and hungry for His Majesty's blood…"

A reluctant tear escape her eye, shed for both the man she was only beginning to love, and the man who hovered over her, his sanity lost. "My Guard, my Guard…"

She never felt the blow as his heavily armored arm came crashing against her temple, the encompassing black stealing her consciousness. He straightened his back, touching his bruised side gingerly. "Impudent woman…" he seethed.

Turning towards the soulless warriors surrounding him, he gave a command, "Weapons down, the woman is overcome. Transport her body to the Master by the quickest route possible…" The mindless soldiers shook to attention, hulking their way through their task. As they busied themselves, the tan-feathered swordsman unsheathe a dagger and drew a thick line down his forearm.

"Now to return to the Palace to report the Queen's kidnapping…" he chuckled darkly, smearing his own blood against his cheek, "And then, one by one, my enemies would fall – my accursed rival, his spiteful wench, that hated magick… and of course, M'Lord O M'Lord…"

Watching the amber sun dip past the muted horizon, great evil flared in his eyes of burnished cinnamon, "Indeed… For King, Queen, and country…"


~*~*~*~

"Her Majesty has been *WHAT*…?!?!"

The wounded soldier who had seen the neo-Queen last winced as the attending healers nursed his sword-wounds and discolored flesh. "I regret it is true, M'Lord… M'Lady was ambushed by metal ghouls whence I encircled the grounds seeking safer paths. I came too late to aid her, quelled by numbers too many…" Hanging his head sorrowfully, the knight begged mercy, "Forgive me, M'Lord, I have failed your service…"

"I would not punish one who has done his utmost for his Lady…" the pale monarch murmured, a hand to his forehead, "But the Queen… How shall I explain her loss to the Elders…?"

He exited the infirmary into the antecedent room, his trusted bodyguard trailing behind him. "I should not have left her…" the emerald-eyed Sword Sister groaned as they approached, a fist curled in her hand, "The fault was mine to assume she would be alrigh—"

"The fault was not yours, nor anyone's to shoulder…" came the voice of the one-eyed Royal Knight, snapping his attention to her as His Majesty sank into a chair, "No one could have known of her fate, be it well or ill… Should any other have accompanied her, the endgame would have been the same – whoever our enemy may be, his plan was well formulated to nullify whatever factor might've been—"

A small knock interrupted the Knight's words as the Palace Magus stepped carefully into the circle of suffocating tension, "I-I… I have identified the crest on the a-armor brought in f-from the site of Her Majesty's d-disappearance…"

"What of it, my trusted Sorceress…?"

The violet-clad woman deposited the faceless helmet and brought out a parchment from the depths of her cloak, "M'Lord, I put before you the head of a mechanical Hunter Drone… the same made by those ostracized into the barren Outlands…" Trembling a little, she unrolled the scroll for all eyes to see. "M'Lord, Her Majesty was abducted by Saurian blood…"

The smaller swordbearer shook her head furiously, "It canna be…!!" Her fellow Guard on par cursed, "How *DARE* they seek those of royal blood – before, the First Heir to the throne; now, Her Majesty the Queen…!!"

The chaos that blanketed him was ignored, his eyes focused on a single point towards the West. How dare you indeed… to steal away my brother, my cousin and my beloved… He could imagine his enemy's twisted smirk, jeering him to make his countermove. He growled, Nay, I will not let you overwhelm me with this…

His companions had noticed their Sovereign's unusual silence despite his right in this given situation. Tentatively, his right-hand-man knelt by his side and shook him in alarm, "Sire…?"

His eyes snapped open, determination aglow behind his pupils of darkest mahogany. "Assemble a crusade of the Kingdom's finest warriors… At dawn, we ride to reclaim the Jewel that has been stolen from us…"

Shocked silence followed.

Then, an agreeing salute, a determined grin, an enthusiastic nod – "Yes, M'Lord. At once, M'Lord!!"


~*~*~*~

The scent of burning brimstone made her wake, her senses overpowered by its choking essence. Exhausted eyelids lifted shakily, sight blurry and painful.

"Ah, the damsel awakens at last…" haunting velvet graced her ears, robes rustling against stone. Rising from where she had lain was a struggle, her bleeding arm a great throbbing agony. Her eyes followed sought the keeper to that voice, darkness foreboding… Its owner conceded thus, stepping away from the shadows.

A strangled scream of terror was cut short, claws grating against her cheek. His reptilian snout leaned in, "Hush, my dear… We would not want the others aware of our little meeting, hmm…?" Eyeing her steadily, he proceeded, "If I release your jaw, I trust you will not repeat your offense…?" Without waiting for her response, he tentatively lifted his hand away from her.

"W-who…?"

"Names are not important…" he purred, turning away from her and retreating once more into the shadows, the darkness swallowing the Vermillion Nightmare whole. "What is important is what we are to each other. I… am your Master… And you—" he pounced on her from behind, an arm securing her functional arm to her side, another cupping her head upwards, "—are my Slave…"

"Were you the One to whom I was sold…?" she spoke, straining against the restraining limbs holding her against her will. Whatever befalls me, I will not beg – "What would you want from me…?"

He tightened his grip, her wincing as telltale bruises began to form, purpling against her flesh, "Indirectly, you are only a tool for me to further my ambitions… However…" he nuzzled the nape of her neck, making her gasp as horror overtook her mind, "… if you like, I could always secure you a place by my side…"

"Away from me, monster…!!" she shrieked, twisting out of the vile demon's grasp, promising her doom. Her efforts were wasted, only landing her painfully upon her back, arms twisted into an impossible knot. Whatever hope she had fell like ash rain, vanishing into the night.

"Tsk, tsk…" he admonished, pinning both wrists easily within the clutches of one iron-like vice, the other drawing a thin line down her uninjured arm, an angry red welt left in its wake, "Stay still and tempt me not to break your other arm, Princess… For I warn you, I would stay true to my word…"

He did not have to say it, the gleam in his eye sufficient to tell her of what he yearned of her. She shook her head violently, "You *BEAST*. You will not—you cannot…!! You—mmph!!"

His jaws snapped shut, and did not let go.

Further down the halls, the soldiers roared with knowing laughter, the sound of tearing silk echoing into the hollow night, a prisoner's silent screams stolen upon the wings of Azrael…


~*~*~*~

"Eyes sharp, men…!!" their leading officer commanded with stern authority, guiding the reins of his mount steady. Nodding in satisfaction, he steered himself towards the central formation in which their most important figure was riding, alongside his private aides, "All is secure, M'Lord…"

Since ordering this entourage, the white-feathered monarch had said little. His attentive Royal Guard answered on his behalf instead, "Very good. Carry on…"

Turning to his ruler, he whispered humbly, "My liege…?"

"Tell me I am doing the right thing…" the younger man answered, staring blankly at his hand, palms upturned, reins laid over them. The voice cracked with emotion – whatever previous determination drowned by tones of despair…

The taller elder turned to study his charge. Hidden beneath the steel confines of his battle armor, the man riding astride himself looked so small. Was it only yesterday this man was a Prince, eyeing the crown that would be his destiny with tears in his eyes…? When had he grown up into this King, forced to leave his childhood behind for the betterment of his people…?

"You are doing the right thing, Your Majesty…"

"Then why do I feel so unsure…?" the frustrated man keened, fists tightening around leather, "No one has heard from the Saurian for over a decade since my cousin's vanishing, my brother's bereavement – could not our enemy have planned this all along…? What if our men ride blindly into their claws…? Would their King be blamed…? Their King be curs—"

"Hush and listen to yourself, M'Lord…!" the seasoned warrior chided gently. "Perhaps your actions were rash, bias towards the feelings of your heart. Nonetheless, we believe your reasons just… M'Lord, your men would fight BY you, FOR you…"

"I fear defeat, my friend… If they have raised a mechanical army—"

"We will find ways to prevail, my liege… by *all* means possible…"

"And if Her Majesty is dead—" "Thou guard your tongue, Sire!" "—and all is for nothing…? What would happen then…?"

A pause…

"Then we shall still fight to reclaim her body, and return her to her people's land…" A muttered prayer, "May the Guardian of Souls and Fate never cross paths to conjure such misfortune…"

The ride was silent once more, for better or worse…


~*~*~*~

A young archer narrowed his eyes of deepest sapphire, squinting against the sunlight to make out his targets. Behind him, his companions conversed quietly, their whispers masked by the song of the forest.

"Twenty horses at the front, then twelve, then eight, then forty…" the blond youth reported, his bow separating the foliage accordingly, "The central eight seem to be of most importance, Maroon-capes surrounding one White…" Turning to face his company, he grinned, "And they all bear the Royal crests…"

"Royal crests…? Hot d*mn – what a day for a raid…!!"

"The treasury would be filled to brim tonight, my friends…!!"

"Hold. Something is not right…" the eldest of their group commented, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, "When has so many of the Imperial Service entered our woodlands in so few months…?"

"What should it matter…?" someone argued, readying his throwing daggers as well as a swinging vine. "Our first rule has always been loot first, questions later!! As long as they have gold—"

"Alright, alright…" the darker man relented, though reluctant all the same. "May I not be the first to break tradition, eh…?"

"So are we gonna—"

"Sound the signal. We hit 'em hard and fast…"


~*~*~*~

There was a sharp snap of a branch, sounding suspiciously unnatural. The fore-riders called for a halt, scouts sent forward to determine the cause.

Unease prickled at the Royal Guard's senses, his single amber eye narrowing. Gesturing to his personal troop, he stepped closer towards His Majesty. "We are about to receive company…"

No sooner had the words left his beak, grey-and-green specters flew from the trees, swooping down towards undefended saddle-bags and unsuspecting pockets, making short work of those idle in their reaction. "BANDITS!!"

"Archers…!!"

Arrows shot upwards to deter further attack, to which was returned, a hail of reed and weighted lead attacking wood-and-iron shields. The formation broke, the inner Circle drawing closer towards its axis, the First Royal Guard and his closest Brotherhood fellowship forming a protective dome surrounding the White Ruler…

A blond archer pivoted his focus from the lesser guards to the strategic star closing at the middle, arrow drawn. "Oh no, you don't… I promised myself to bag me a big one this time—"

The shields melded—

A scream.

—sadly, not quickly enough…

"PROTECT THE KING!!"

The wide-eyed youth whose projectile had embedded itself into warm flesh dropped his jaw. His nearest companion stared at him, "You shot the *KING*…?!?"

"Ya know… when I asked for bigger game, this wasn't what I expected…"

~*~*~*~*~

Aoi Akiko ramblings:

Akiko is terribly sorry for the long, long wait...!! Akiko realizes that explanations regarding busy schedules following Christmas, Chinese New Year and Valentine's day would not do, thus Akiko can only beg humble forgiveness, her fate left to her *gulp* fellow executioners...

*ahem* Ramblings on the story...
I believe the plot is finally here, unraveling to show its true colors. Also, the rating seems to be escalating, though Akiko would try her best to keep it within accepted standards. Honestly, this isn't my best, but I am working hard to keep this together as best I am able...

Nosedive finally makes his appearance as my cunning little bandit (along with his rightful pride in himself... or would that be his ego...? Pride... ego... I confuse myself which is the lesser evil...). Grin would probably have his debut soon...
By obvious context, Falcone is my ultimate traitor, working for Draggy, aided by his Hunter Drones. Nevertheless, I realize that perhaps the drones couldn't be powered by non-existent electronics then, thusly have made them 'soulless, mechanical puppets'... probably held together by Wraith's magick...

A few notes... An 'unclean woman' refers to a 'menstruating female' / 'girl during her period' (yes, yes, I know that sounds really distasteful to many people). It was adapted from biblical context (and then some) that those women were deemed unworthy of any relation to her people, especially men. For more information... err... don't look at me...?
My beta asked me "What are the 'wings of Azrael'...?!" Azrael is the messenger of Death, adapted from Koran / Quran text (nay, I am not a muslim). Consequently, 'wings of Azrael' would point to the 'bringer of Death'.
End notes.



~ Aoi Akiko