No. Mighty Ducks, the animated series not mine.
But Princess Ambrosia and story are mine
Quick note: Apologies to those who read the last part of Chapter V and were confused... I was working on a part, deleted it, and re-wrote it, but what I uploaded was not the edited version. Mistake has been rectified. Please reread last 2 scenes before continuing Chapter VI
...oOo...
.: Chapter VI :.
...oOo...
.
"H-he will not live the j-journey… to the capitol…" she had said, holding onto a pale hand, "… not even… till t-this evening…" A solemn bow, "My h-humblest apologies… Your M-majesty…"
He gave a nod, eyes never leaving the sallow face representing the last of his rapidly disappearing family.
"Leave us…"
...oOo...
Daylight had not kissed his feathers for almost a decade in counting…
What was this gentle sensation then, enveloping him from above…?
Around and below – a soft coverlet…? A hanging mattress…?
Great gods of the sky – he was in Heaven then…? There could be no other explanation. Neverending nights spent shivering with cold, hunger his assailant, pain his tormentor. He knew he would die… could feel himself dying…
And now he was dead.
Wait – he could not see…!! The world was still so dark, so lost. He flailed in his cot, the illusion of an afterlife dissolvin—
"Hush… hush…" a voice consoled him, strong arms embracing him against a firm chest, "Please, be still… my cousin…"
"… w-what…?!" he gasped as the last word repeated itself in his mind, a hoarse, faltering voice echoing his thoughts, "… it c-canna be…"
A ladle of water pressed to his lips, pleading him drink. He complied – never had water tasted so sweet, the tears of Heaven so craved. But he was partaking of it too eagerly, coolness choking him, heart-wrenching coughs rendering him wordless.
"Slowly, slowly, my cousin…" such graceful assurance – a hand stroking his back, his head cradled against a shoulder, "You are still so weak…"
"… c-cousin…?" the elder one wheezed, fatigued lungs fighting for breath.
The younger man smiled, "Yes, I am here…"
Though his eyes could not see, his heart knew it true. Trembling fingers tightened against the folds of the other's chests, "… it is y-you…" a sob, "… you do not know… h-how glad I am… t-to hear your v-voice…" A sudden shudder, "… h-how did you…?"
A pause.
"The Brotherhood and I raided the Raptor…" a small laugh, "It was by chance alone we found you…"
The broken one groaned, "… s-so long… why n-now…?"
"You—" he was hesitant, uncertain to how he should answer this question. A lie would not serve him, though it would be kinder… must it be the truth, then…? A sigh, "You were not our first priority…"
His kin stiffened in his arms.
A decade of longing – to see the sun, to touch the sky, to taste the wind… A decade of agony – even before he lost his legs, his arm, his eyes… Fervent prayers, ceaseless and hopeful…
Yet, he was not first priority…?
An apologetic murmur, "We… were searching for our stolen Empress…"
"… I… see…"
The song of the forest lulled them both – one of quiet contemplation, the other in resigned acceptance.
It was a forgotten gesture, so simple in form, yet spoke volumes. Of quiet laughter, "… so, only a w-woman… could p-persuade you come… I understand n-now…"
The white-feathered one startled, "Y-you… You'll forgive then? For not coming sooner? Stars, you have suffered so much, so much…"
"…it does not m-matter now… y-you came at last…"
"Oh, my cousin…"
Two Kings – one of the past, one of the present – clung to one another, the lifeline of love. The younger one needed no regrets for failing the other in this life, his mind a storm stirring turmoil beyond his capabilities… The elder one needed no bitterness toward the one who rescued him, in times so final, as this…
"… she must be q-quite… exquisite…"
A choked chuckle, "She was to be yours, you know…?"
"… d-describe her…" he requested, a faint smile below his bound eyes, "… this bride I will n-never see… n-never hold…"
Absently stroking at the graying feathers above the bandage hiding the black emptiness that left his blood relative blind, the young adult was obedient to the command, "An angel, and nothing less than that… Eyes the color of the sky framed delicately by a veil of deepest mahogany, spring and autumn all at once… The sweetest lips, the softest hands—" Then a keening cry, "Oh, what use is this… Like you, I too shall never see her, hold her, ever ever again…"
The image conjured in his mind was shattered, calloused fingers grasping a hand, "… b-but why…?!"
"S-she… She…" a stifled sob if not able to withhold the saline from his eyes, "Cousin mine, your bride—our bride—has been marked…"
A voice shaking with anger, though cracking at its edge, "… w-who… did this…?!"
"The same… he who has caused you so much grief…" a king he was, but he felt so small… so alone… Here was his last comfort, one who had not yet betrayed him, rejected him, refused him… Burying himself into the hollow chest of his present counselor, "Forgive me, my kin, for I have failed protecting our bride, our Kingdom…"
"… h-how badly…?"
"What does it matter…? She has been wrongly disgraced… and I was not there to shield her…" a piteous groan, "The Council will turn her, the Kingdom will despise her… to dismiss her would be cruel, to keep he—"
"… hush…" their roles were reversed, feeble as the attempt may be, it was all that was required, "… h-how badly…?"
"… her entire back, his symbol burned into her ski—"
"… then t-tailor more gowns, darken her c-capes…"
"Cousin, this is no time for jest…!!"
"… I-I… am not j-jesting…" was the firm reply, unsteady hands feeling for his beak. "… do you… d-do you love her…?"
"…?"
"… s-so blind…" exhaustion colored the maimed man's response, brushing away the dampness coating his fingers, "… you do not think t-twice… in snatching your u-unfortunate kin from them… of no hope and d-dwindling life… look you, dearest one… the a-abuse upon myself, dealt by H-his hands… yet, you do not s-seem to see me… as anything less… than w-who you once l-loved… once c-cherished…"
"But the Council…? The Kingdom…?"
An amused snort, "… must they know of t-this…?"
"…"
A rhetorical question. But at that moment, nothing more would calm him better than the wise words of a fading brother…
A kiss on his brow, "Thank you, my cousin…"
Nonetheless, the wavering light of a candle neared its nadir.
"… g-good… now, I am ready to die…"
...oOo...
"The Kingdom's First Heir is dead…" the quiet monk informed them, gathering his hood to cover his face. It was time to mourn…
Voices whispered amongst themselves, their future suddenly so bleak.
Their Monarch stepped out of his tent, his armor gleaming in the afternoon sun. Trailing behind him, a shaken Sorceress, her head bowed to cover her face.
One of the Brotherhood approached him carefully, "What are your orders, M'Lord…?"
Tired eyes of purest wine blinked once, twice.
"Load the caravans and harness the horses," he declared resolutely, eyes surprisingly clear for one having witness death to one bound to him – so dear, so recently. "We leave as soon as able…"
His soldiers snapped to attention, saluting swiftly, "Yes, M'Lord. At once, M'Lord."
"Sire…?" his glassy-eyed Magick touched a shoulder to catch his attention as the men left to their chores.
He turned and gave her a small smile, "I will be alright, Spellmistress…" then to her surprise, "Go now, and tend to your Lady…"
"She will return with us…?!" the fair maiden exclaimed, violet eyes dancing for joy.
The smile widened, but he remained silent. The line between stations vanished, as she pounced upon him in eager embrace, "Thank you, M'Lord, thank you…" Pulling back just as suddenly, she flew to fulfill her task with quick words and quicker strides.
So, all I do is love her, yes…? Upon your grave, my cousin, it shall be… it shall be…
...oOo...
"Your brother is leaving…"
"He is not my brother…"
"… alright… Your King is leaving…"
"He is not my King…"
"You… will not say goodbye to them…? To him…?"
"Why should I…?!"
A weary sigh.
"You were not the only soul involved in this tragic play, my young friend. He has undergone the same, if not more – the only one left behind with the cut threads of Life. He needs yo—"
A chair flipped over the table. The sullen youth stormed away from him, shoulders squared, back rigid…
He would not be denied… not like this, not like this…
A foot before the doors, he capped the smaller one on the shoulder, "You may not say it out loud, but you need him too…"
An elegant snort, "Yeah right…"
"Promise me you'll think about it…"
The boy gave a grunt and twisted away…
And he did not look back…
...oOo...
"NO!!"
The nurse tending to her leapt back, having nearly lost her beak should she have collided with the other's head as her charge bolted upright in her bed. Winding down swiftly from her alarm, she attempted to pacify, "Careful now, my dear… 'twas only a nightmare… only a nightmar—"
Rich velvet graced her ears, "Please, allow me…"
The woman caught herself from swooning too obviously before the handsome stranger. "Yes, Sir, of course…" the former replied shyly, withdrawing from the scene. A wave of his hand commanded her leave, and with disappointed hearts, she obeyed.
"Hush now, Sweetheart, you're alright…" he soothed, patting his companion's back comfortingly as he gathered her, wide-eyed and shivering with fright. She gave a whimper, babbling incoherently into his chest. He indulged a secret smile, letting her ramble on between ragged sobs.
It took a while for her to realize the positions they were in.
She held herself away from him, hands planted against his shoulders, "Wait!! I'm—You're—We're—"
"We are…" he confirmed, nodding his head.
"B-but, we can't—" she squeaked, gripping her sheets to her chest, "We were—The Raptor—How—??"
He shrugged, yet was still smiling, "It may seem our dear Magus has forgotten to inform us of the spell attached to… whatever it was she gave…" A warm hand rested against her cheek, "Though… we did not escape the explosion completely unscathed…"
Her head was bandaged, a pad pressed against her temple. She stared down at herself, her torso and arm swath in strips of cloth, most probably torn from a sheet. Under the covers, her right leg was of similar condition… And seated by her side, her companion seemed to be sporting equivalent dressings, all the more prominent against his darker coloring and… opened shirt…
"How long have I been asleep…?"
"The women say five days… I myself woke only the day before…" he poured her a glass of warm liquid from a earthen pitcher, a sip from its rim before passing it to her, "They seemed to have made themselves very… available… since I came to…"
She blushed, processing the choice piece of information… until it literally sank into her mind, "Wait – available…?!"
He nodded absently, unconscious to her face coloring beyond embarrassment. A glance just as she began entering shades of violet made him jump, "Nonono – that's not what I meant…!!"
"You said AVAILABLE!!"
Ducking a pillow, a slipper and a wooden block ("Stop hurling things at me, woman, and let me explain – I'm just as injured as you are… perhaps more so…!!"), he barely caught the bedside candlestand before pinning her arms down beside her, "Goddess – who'd thought you were so possessive of me…"
"I am not POSSESSIVE…!!"
Clamping his petite comrade's beak shut while setting the aforementioned weapon far from her reach, he laughed, "Well, on the bright side a'things – you don't seem to be suffering from a concussion…"
She yanked her face free from his trapping, at the same time wrenching her limbs free and reversing their positions so that he was on the bed and she was straddling him, "Keep saying things like that and I'll give you a concussion…!!"
At this inopportune time, a timid apothecary peered past the portals leading into the room, "I heard the Lady Brotherhood has—EEK!!" There was a clatter of instruments, of thick bottles and medicine bowls swirling, swirling, swirling…
"SorrysorrysoverysorryI'llcomebacklater—"
A roll of fresh medicinal bindings rolled towards the bed moaning under the weight of two very, very flushed individuals.
He broke the silence first, "You're explaining us out of this one, Red…"
She groaned…
...oOo...
"I'll leave the both of you alone now, Sir…"
"Much obliged…" he returned to the bowing maid, dropping the curtain serving as their door behind her. Whirling just as the cherry-haired lass made a distasteful face at her tea, he commanded lightly, "Now, now, drink your tea… You'll be surprised – for something so vile, it does wonders for your wounds…"
"And you know this how?" she growled, blazing eyes shifting from teacup to annoyance-of-the-day. He shrugged, "Shouldn't my standing up a day after recovery be sufficient proof…?"
With an inaudible grumble, she shut her nostrils tightly and threw the questionable substance down her throat, a coughing fit almost too comical to describe claiming her victim at the end of it.
"Do you know where we are…?"
He stood by the window, watching the neighbors tend to their chores, the women their children. A small man-made brook babbled joyfully beside the house, more women joining the chorus as they chatted and gossiped over the growing pile of clothing overflowing their baskets…
"No…"
She limped to his side, her posture unstable, favoring only one side. Brushing away the modest drapes, she stared out with him.
"I can just make out the castle spires over yonder… If we can secure ourselves some horses—or share just one—we can make it to the capitol within a day and a nigh—"
"What will you do, once your duties are complete…?" he interrupted. She had not been sharing his view after all, his single eye focused instead on two small children, rolling merrily in the grass.
Her emerald eyes flickered from one scene to another, finally settling on him. Uneasily, she fidgeted, "I-I… I don't know… Return to my homeland, most likely… Settle down, start a famil—"
"Then let's – right here, right now…"
She stared at him, "Run away from our posts – are you MAD…?!?!" A little softly, "Y-you're not… You're not seriously thinking of—"
He nodded. He shrugged. "I wasn't… until we—you and I—lived through the most frightening experience of my life… together…" He shifted his gaze, "11 years ago, I fell in love with you… 11 years later, I find myself still as enamored by you as ever. You refused me once, because of your responsibility to the Queen…
"But we've wiped out an armada in the Western Wastelands, the greatest threat to our fair Kingdom… Our Queen is safe, as is our King…" he brought a hand against her cheek, taking a step towards her. Gradually, he leaned in, "I wondered… if we… could… pick up where we lef—"
"RAIDERS!!"
They parted, their senses alert to the call of a scout proclaiming the state of emergency.
"Mechanical invaders, burning their way past the border and into the forest!!" the lad's announcement made clear as he hurried children to their homes, animals to their masters, "We must evacuate to the caves before dark… Hurry! Hurry!!"
Both soldiers cursed, though both for different reasons – one vowed vengeance against the Saurian throne, the other questioned how Fate could be so cruel…
"Our choice has been made for us…" she muttered, stepping away from him to dress, her discarded armor picked up from where it lay beside her bed, "We have no choice – we must go back…"
He looked away, "Ah…"
She paused in what she was doing, her breastplate held against her front. "I-I'll… make you a deal."
Their eyes locked – his of questioning, hers of determination.
"As soon as this mess is over and done with, we'll resign… together," her eyes began to water, but she hid all other emotions well, "Better to be dismissed honorably than leave without a trace – we owe our Master and Mistress as much…"
With a crooked smile, he snapped the final lock of his attire. Pivoting fully towards her, he held out his hand, "Covenant accepted."
A nod, crimson tendrils bouncing, "Until then, promise me you'll fight—"
A raised eyebrow, he finished, "—for King, Queen and Country…?"
"No…" she pulled him into her and sealed their pact with the Lover's Promise. Releasing them both, flushed and breathless, she corrected him, "For me…"
...oOo...
The homecoming entourage into the city was done with as little fanfare as possible, horns at the front announcing the procession's arrival, mounts and men rushing through the gates. The Advisors assaulted His Majesty as soon as he entered his office, their wrinkled faces long and haggard.
"Tell us, Sire, do not keep us in distress…" "The Queen – how does she fare…?" "Is she ill—?" "—blemished—?!" "—or worst, sullied—?!?!"
And his more serious ones concerned about the nations, "What news from the West, M'Lord…?" "Is it true the Outcasts have raised metal ghouls from the ground…?" "Have you seen them??" "How many strong??!"
DuCaine… give me strength…
...oOo...
No man other than that of Royal decree entered the Sacred Chambers, a barrier the Palace Mage had set up herself. Even His Majesty's Royal Guard stood outside these allotted rooms reserved only for His Sovereign Lord and Lady…
Thus it was they were alone, two women born of different bloodlines granted perfect privacy…
"You must eat, Your Highness…" the maternal one pleaded, spooning the warm broth to feed the wilting Flower, eyes devoid of feeling, sapphires lost its sparkle.
Like her Life Crystal, though now one piece, it is still so cold to touch… the fairer woman resisted the urge to weep, Scyial Letoph… D'rair, will you not come back to us…?
"… he despises me…" a small voice broke her reverie, as sorrowful eyes dropped to her lap, where a white hand lay. Her other began playing with her wedding band, the elegant inscriptions on it glowing briefly, in response to her touch, "… if he had not the heart to hate me for my curse… surely he will do so now for what has been done to me…"
Never one to mingle, the members of the Court and their frequent complaints not hers to hear, the elder female felt helplessly inadequate. She was trained in the matters of mortal and immortal, a healer bringing man closer to the spirits of nature… But one of human hearts…?
Only a Spellmistress, not a Counselor…
Where are you, my friend, this time I need you most…? she sighed silently, her mind conjuring the memory of her fiery-haired Swordswoman, her Knight had yet to return, What would you do? What would you say?
Setting the porcelain bowl on the table, she gathered her courage, and leaned forward to catch a hand.
"M'Lady, command me to speak freely…"
"… I grant it to thee, my Sorceress…"
"His Lordship cannot… hate you…" oh, such wrong words, but the meaning conveyed begged to be conveyed, "He loves you very dearly…"
They were small words, simple enough for a child to understand. And this child understood it all to well…
"… ever more reason, for I am unworthy of that which he gives so freely…" curling into a ball, the foreigner sniffled, "… I have been branded, Sorceress – I am no longer my own, nor of my husband's name…
"Look at me, Sorceress, and tell me I am D..MNED…!!"
"I am looking at you, my Empress…" the solemn voice began, "And I see you…
"You are my Empress, perfect in every way imaginable… No flaw on your body can mask what I see… Your mind is pure, uncorrupted by ideas of political malice… Your heart is true, untainted by desires of selfish nature… Your soul is innocent, untarnished by yearnings of worldly conquests…
"You were dealt a terrible thing to have endured so much… These scars may never fade, but they are healing… I have done everything within my power to do so… But what I cannot do is heal the scars within you… The ones I cannot see, I cannot touch… They are yours alone, and only you can reach them…
"His Majesty would not have had you brought home to scorn you. Nay, you are too precious to be cast away, too cherished to be set aside. He has fought tooth and nail for you, risked life and limb for you. These are not the actions of a man who hates you…
"Will you not make yourself unblind to his longing to see you, to hold you, to kiss you…? Will you not go to him to heal him…? To heal yourself…?"
There were no more words to be said, the Magician having poured everything, a lone candle of faith burning in her heart. Her silent Lady would not answer, the choice given undecided…
Rising gently, a tender hand brushed past her Mistress' fallen locks, revealing a frozen eye of darkest hue. One kiss placed under this unmoving pool of richest cobalt, her last whispers this night, "Be wise, beloved…
"But more importantly, be brave…"
...oOo...
Less than a hundred paces from the gates.
"No one must know until this is over…"
"Ah…"
Seventy paces.
"It would so wrong – His Majesty's and Her Majesty's Personal Guards…"
"Ah…"
Fifty-five.
"If they ever find ou—"
"Beloved…?"
"Yes…?"
Forty.
"Be silent."
"… oh…"
Thirty-five.
"Here, take this…"
"B-but… this is your ring…!!"
"Wear it…"
Twenty.
"If anything should happen, this shall be my proof stating you as… my wife…"
"Your WHAT?!"
Fifteen.
"I love you…"
"… love you, too…"
Ten.
"OPEN THE GATES!! THE ROYAL KNIGHT AND LADY BROTHERHOOD COMETH!!"
He urged the stallion to quicken its steps, eager to be reunited with his Family, honor bound to his Master.
"For King, Queen, and Country…"
Staring at the ring on her finger, she dared to add – For us…
...oOo...
He held in his hands the Might, the Power, the Authority…
But he had not the Knowledge nor the Wisdom to use it.
Where are you, my mentor…?
He sat with his Council, listening to them devising strategies readying the Kingdom for Battle. Random ideas were put into the air, from an all-out assault standing firm both outside and within the fortified walls, to encouraging the peasants joining their cause with pitchforks and torches… Still, he was their Leader – his word would have the final say.
So tired… He wished he did not have to do this… He was still so young, forced the responsibilities of an adult since his fourteenth birthday, the weight of the world set upon his small shoulders. He had only begun to understand the most basic form of relations between the lands surrounding his own (with a marriage-alliance from Galaxia thrown in the thick of it). He was not ready to face the hostile confrontations from a war-mongering sovereignty wanting him dead…
Where are you, my friend…?
He sighed as he stared at the golden hilt leaning beside his chair, fingers tracing the Familial Engravings made for his forebears who had ruled over these land more than a hundred generations before the present. Was he to be the last to take up this Sword for his people…? The weakest of them all, the downfall of his Kingdom…?
You left me too soon, too ill-equipped to do this one my own…
I… am alone…
Fate reminded him he was never alone—
"SIRE – THE ROYAL KNIGHT RETURNS…"
"WHAT?!"
Great oaken leaves parted, twin silhouettes cutting through the brightness of the lighted hallways. Two great friends found each other across the room.
"We return to your service… Your Majest—" his most decorated Knight was cut off as his White King pounced on him, caring not for the attention drawn as they both fell to the floor. A wince of aching muscles jarred, but a hearty chuckle to calm any ill-ease, "There, there, M'Lord…
"I am glad to see you too…"
"So good… So good…"
There was Hope for this day yet…
...oOo...
She shouldn't be here.
"An ENTIRE legion…?!?"
This was not her place…
"Not quite, but confidently more-than-half…" the one-eyed Swordsman did say, sliding several iron figurines off the map, "The last we heard, only a handful survived the blast… The rest are of metallic make…"
Why did they call for her presence if she were not to be helpful…?
"His Mechanical Army…" the Ruler echoed, "Stars – we do not know how to defeat these… things…!!"
A cherry-colored braid made its appearance over the geographical scroll beside her, "We ran into a few on our way here… There is a way of disabling them, if one gets close enough…"
All eyes on the Lady Brotherhood, "How so…?"
"Sever its head and stab its heart – a crimson stone set in its armor," there was a slight demonstration accompanying her explanation, slender fingers drawing a cross to mark its location on herself, a space between her chest and shoulder.
An elder General stepped forward, "Yes, yes, it can be done… We might employ the archers to rid the front lines before sending in our swords, then…?"
"I was hoping on something more specific before utilizing our arms," the Royal Guard spoke.
"What do you suggest, Brotherhood…?"
"These soulless puppets were raised from the earth and put together using the Dark Powers…" words heavy with meaning, those understanding his implication turned towards their most silent attendee. "Indeed… we should fight magic with magic, yes…?
The violet-eyed female glanced up, feeling eyes on her, "M-me…?!"
"Yes, we need your aid most dire… Will you fight with us, my Faithful One…?"
Uncertain eyes flickered a gaze between her dear friends, each eager to hear her answer. Her best friend squeezed a shoulder, encouraging her to take up the offered hand of their Master. They wanted her—needed her. What should her answer be…? Would she fight alongside these companions…?
Nay, more than that – my friends…
Amethyst darkened as a golden circlet lowered itself with its mistress' submissive gesture, "My hand is yours to command, M'Lord…"
...oOo...
The balcony was cold, but she did not mind it. Far from it – here, she could touch the sky and seek its guidance…
The stars shone like diamonds hung across the endless expanse opposing the land, crowing the glory of the midnight moon. Cloudless and clear, she turned to read the messages they hid from the world save for the few who learnt their wonderful language.
… Se'Reike Luire, par e'leh doth me'chenna Krias…
A star seemed to wink playfully from above, answering her request to stand before her Guardian Counselor of Hearts, her childhood deity of Life. She smiled. Spreading one wing, she plucked a feather and blew it to her Mother, a humbled offering for her questions.
Lekh con'siur de mirideth… naire naire melef…
The feather danced in the wind, riding the warmer currents swirling in the air. It swiveled gaily, an acrobatic stage-play orchestrated by an invisible hand…
Then the breeze died, and the angelical shard stood, stunned. It hovered, as if crying out for aid, then began to fall, a gentle spiral, down… down… down…
She gasped. Se'Reike Luire… doth melef…?
Her ring grew warm, though her skin was cool. She brought her hand up in line with her sight, mind piecing the significance of it all – the words of her mother, her confidant, her Guardian from above…
She understood at last…
The corner of her mouth lifted slightly, her fingers brought away from her vision. After all, she had lived her life for this one purpose, her whole reason for being alive…
Goodbye, my Luire…
Her wings faded into her back, the tears of an angel shed into the night, a promise woven into each as they flew away, away into the realms of darkness…
...oOo...
"… all our plans are well underway, M'Lord. We will make good time before the enemy strik—"
"I feared you were gone, my good friend…"
"… M'Lord…"
Young eyes turned shyly towards his father-figure of hearts, "So long I waited, but you never came back… I thought I'd lost you, forever…"
Ushering the weary Emperor into his chambers, the Knight chuckled reassuringly, "You would not be rid of me so easily, Highness…"
Wine ran turbulent in a glass, passed from gloved hand to one unadorned. The white one nodded in thanks, "I… found my cousins in the dungeons…"
Bottles tinkled against one another as the slipped from a hand, "You what…?!?!"
"While we were searching for my beloved – he lived still…"
The lesser man knelt by his Master, "Stars, I would never have guessed – w-where… where is he now…?!"
"He… passed on peacefully, away from his tormentors…"
The guard removed his sword belt and set it by his side, kissing the hand he served, "Sire, I am so sorry…"
"There's more…" the younger of the pair sipped at the rim of his glass, "I met my… brother… amongst the bandits…"
This was disturbing news, earning a splutter, "You're brother?!?!"
"Aye, he was found, through unusual circumstances…" another sip, "Nonetheless, we are now more estranged than before…"
"Who…?"
"The fair-haired child who shot me…"
"The KID—"
"The one and the same…"
"Stars—wait, you said you are estranged…?"
Knotted muscles ached as he slumped his shoulders forward, the boy-King ridding himself of his crown and outer cloak, "He… did not want me as his brother… He was happy with his life beforehand…" a sigh, "I would not make him come with me… he is old enough to choose…"
"You are strong, my liege…" consoled the seasoned man, relieving his Lord of his burdens, "I am sorry for your misfortunes…"
"Perhaps it's better this way… at least I know he is much aliv—"
"S-sire…?"
"… what is it…?"
The Knight spun upon his heel, holding up a delicate tiara and a slender key, "Aren't thes—"
As a husband, his charge knew the meaning behind these things left here. He rushed to his bedchambers, "Oh no – Ambrosia…!!"
Amber eyes shielded itself from the light before rising to meet the sacred symbol a tapestry one a wall. Great DuCaine, watch them for me…
...oOo...
Aoi Akiko: happy sigh another chappie done... I'm off to bed now...
k2: grab Whaddaya mean you're OFF TO BED...?!?! This is a cliffie...!! Go write another chapter – quick, quick, QUICK!!
Aoi Akiko: Oi, I haven't slept for more than a week writing for you... Don't you think I deserve a na—
k2: whip in hand You can nap LA-TER...!! I want to know what's happening between Wing and Ambrosia...!! snaps whip Do it NOW!!
Aoi Akiko: cowering from whiplash Eep – I'm working...! I'm working...!! grumblegrumble So this was what the others warned me about sleeping over with k2...
Aoi Akiko rambles:
Another chapter within 2 days... Oy vey, I think my brain's frozen... (background, k2: Your brain can't be frozen – I gave you a heated room and everything...!!).
But k2 is right, and truly, truly, I can't stop writing due to the wave of inspiration my muses Eisce and Kei are giving me... Another chapter...? Soon, I hope...
Regarding a certain ahem couple... See...? I promised to make it good... Duke and Mallory are back in play...!! Their absence was deliberate, a foreshadow for upcoming events. Hope you like
Now for side notes:
[1] Nosedive's a little of a sulky adolescent in this... Apologies to his fans out there until Aoi Akiko rights his character again...
[2] Mallory's title, 'Lady Brotherhood', belongs to my muse Kei... He like to... um... role-play Duke sometimes... sweatdrop
[3] Ambrosia's prayer to Se'Reike Luire translated as follows: Guardian Counselor, your maiden servant cometh Seeking counsel... I listen, listen... gasp Guardian Counselor... my service...? (it makes no sense now... but if I write up anymore, it'll spoil what is to come...)
Of origins:
[1] A 'Lover's Promise', is a kiss... Reading poetry at three in the morning can affect you like that...
[2] '... tears of an angel...', from what I have been led to believe, is not rain (tears of heaven / a god), but falling feathers from the sky...
blink Review, kudasai...?