Okay, a small explanation for the pagan religion that Viviann most of the others believe in at the end. Some is very similar to Celtic things, but not this, I don't think. If you really aren't interested then just read the following for a short explanation:
The Mother is the mother of everything, humans and gods alike. Hence the title of the Mother. Witches (like Cinders) are either woman who work with magick or are daughters of Magic (a goddess) that she gives away. But people with the power of the Mother have a different sort of power, one that connects them to Mother and in turn to everything else.
If there are any more questions, don't hesitate to ask. Now onward to chapter four! yay! Song is from the he play Wicked, yeah, that broadway play. It might pop up later. i don't own it, obviously.
It is no surprise to anyone, except for maybe Cinders. I suppose she assumed she had the skills to make it. She didn't. Mother knew it, Danielle knew it, and even Lady Silva knows it, the moment Cinders walks in.
You must give her points for effort. Her dress is not what anyone would all fashionable. I was tempted to actually help her at one point. You cannot help but pity her sometimes. I wonder if the Mother placed the world against poor Cinders on purpose.Well, that is, you cannot help but pity her before she threatens that it 'will hurt.'
Her dress is a blue that really brings out her eyes. The fabric she wrongly made of wool of course makes the warm day unbearable for her. I could have told her the weather would be hot today, even as far away as a week ago.
But no one likes threats, and I'm no different.
Maybe I will feel this later. But I don't care. What can hurt worse than your best friend thinking you hate him? But then again, I am naïve. What do I know about pain?
Lady Silva tries to give her a chance. She really does, you can see it in her eyes and her manner.
"So, Cindy, you are here to join the Second Organization of Cork's Infallible Equestrian Team of Yeomanry." I stare blankly at Lady Silva until Danielle subtly jams her elbow into my side. I manage to swallow a yelp, and Danielle leans over to whisper irately, "You're joining in a year and you haven't even taken the time to figure out what it stands for?"
Meanwhile, Cindy nods elegantly, answering routinely, "Indeed, I am. I am true to Society's goals and plans. I am of Cork, trustworthy, with the ability to ride like our ancestors, the yeomen." I myself have not learned this speech, but by the way Lady Sylvia is staring at Cindy gravely, she has said something wide of the mark.
I would have asked my sister what yeomen meant if she had not moved, along with my mother, to their due places at the table. So they leave me standing there, lost, as they should have assumed I would be. There are no extra seats at the table, since they know who is to arrive, and are prepared.
"Fine," I mutter under my breath as I slip out of the door, their murmuring voices following me out. I wonder why my mother thinks this procedure is so important. The doors shuts with a sharp thud after me. A light breeze blows the hair from my sticky face, and I close my eyes, glad to have an escape from the dreadful heat.
I might have stayed in the shade of the Society building, but I was baited out by the soft voice of Marin. She is strolling in the garden in front of the Society building, picking flowers. I am unsure as to whether or not that is even allowed. "Ann! Sing me a song again!" The young girl with the tilting green eyes pulls at my skirt. I sigh, but Marin is too young to catch the subtle hint in that sound. So I force a smile, and think to myself how this will take my mind off Cinders for a little while, anyway.
"Alright, then, Marin. What song would you like me to sing?" I almost regret asking her. I know what her choice will be and I quickly steer her towards the castle gardens. Hardly anyone goes in there. No one will be there hear my voice sing of embarrassing topics.
"Sing the sweet song from the play." I had, in a moment of decency, taken Marin to see a traveling play. I was to pay for this for a long time to come. She had gotten me to learn to words to most of songs. At her whims I can now sing her any song she chooses. Her favorite was the 'sweet' song from the play. Sweet, that is, if you don't understand the play at her, which Marin hadn't.
Which didn't impede her from loving the song to pieces. I roll my eyes and softly begin to mutter the words through gritted teeth, hoping that for once Marin with accept this as a song. "Kiss me too fiercely, hold me too-"
But she's already shaking her head fanatically, her short ebony hair shaking like a wolf's fur might as it shakes off water. "No! Ann, you know that's not how! Kiss me too fiercely, hold me too tight!" she screams this quite loudly for a girl her size. I glance around me, making sure there is no one in sight. There isn't. I sigh in relief and shrug my shoulders. It's no as if anyone is there to judge me.
"Okay, then, Marin. Hold me too tight. I need help believing you're with me tonight. I'm lying beside you, with you wanting me. And just for this moment, as long as you're mine I've lost all resistance and crossed some borderline. And if it turns out its over too fast, Ill make every last moment last, as long you're mine." I try imagining feel like this. I had always assumed that people made up this feeling to make stories of more interest. But since then I had felt that twinge. That twinge of . . .something. Whatever it was, it had caused me to almost faint with . . .pleasure? (wince) when Trent took me in his arms.
"Maybe I'm brainless. Maybe I'm wise. But you've got me seeing through different eyes. Somehow I've fallen under your spell. And somehow I'm feeling its up that I fell. Every moment as long as you're mine, I'll wake up my body and make up for lost time! Say there's no future for us as a pair. I may know, I don't care." I pause here, waiting to see if Marin notices. Usually she doesn't. She is always lost in her own thoughts when I sing these songs. It's true; even I tend to go deep into my own head when I sing the songs. They are songs that have always made think, though why I don't know.
When I see that Marin has completely blocked me out, I don't continue the song. I always get embarrassed when Marin makes me croon like this. I mean, what if someone sees me singing a song like . . . that to a child?"Marin, dear, where is your mother?" This is a useless question, seeing as how Mme. Cure never tells her young daughter where's she going, and assumes that Marin's older sister Lisset will actually take care of her. Lisset is worse than her mother. A swarm of men envelop her as soon as her mother's out of sight like flies might encircle a carcass.
She doesn't even honor me with a glance. "Who are those men?" she asks, pointing her small finger towards a shadowy doorway nearby the palace. My eyes widen. Since when had the palace needed guards? The townsfolk were peaceful, and the war hadn't come to-
Had it? I think back, wondering if I'd missed something. I probably had. My mother's first priority was never wars or other manly issues.
Tuzalor had been a wonderful to grow up, since unlike most kings, our own had decided not to fight against the Rerecroses from the south. I had never seen one of these people for my own, but the stories that reached my ears were horrific. They told of creatures with far too many heads, teeth too long, claws too sharp, and eyes the color of Prince Sky.
Trent had told Jason, Jacob and me when we were little about the evil Rerecroses that would sneak into your house if you did anything dirty and would rip out your eyeballs, and feed you them while ripping out your heart.
That scared me off boys for a while. Truth be told, I wasn't so sure of boys now, even when I knew the tales were not true.
All around us, real people were dying to keep them away. No one seemed to know why the Rerecroses wanted in, but they fought them back all the same. But if the war had come to Tuzalor at last, the near center of all Cork. . . were we that far gone?
"Ann. . ." Marin's whining voice brings me out of my thoughts. "Who are they?" I pause a second, then I respond. "They're angels, Marin. Here to protect us from the evils that we all contain inside us." I don't know what had made spout such fanciful nonsense, but by Marin's relieved expression, it was the right thing to say.
Until Marin ran off, headed straight for the two men.
"No! Marin! Come back, they're not to be talked to!" Marin is fast for her age, and I am not used to running in the clothing I'm in. These shoes are too tall to run in, but I manage to kick them off while I run. I can't let her ask them any inappropriate questions. As many stories as there are of the Rerecroses, there are twice as many of the soldiers that 'protect' us.
They aresaid to be volatile, eager for battle and bloodshed, even when none is needed. They slice open first, ask questions later. They are notorious for their lack of distinction about what they eat. The thought of Marin being among those men makes me shiver with dread.
But arrive there too late.
"Angels, you say?" the larger man is replying, his voice full of gaiety. This man's skin a dark, foreign tinge. His hair is cut so short that it looks like he has none. His eyes are a light brown, and they radiate much amusement. "Who told you that?" Before Marin can point me out, I pull her to me, and I smile fearfully. "Marin is just a silly little thing. Please take no offense!"
"Don't worry, love. We're not planning on skinning your little sister any time soon." The second man says this. He's smaller than the first; his hair is long and dark. His black locks fall over his eyes, which seem dark enough without the shadows. He doesn't seem comfortable in the soldier attire he's dressed in, and he keeps fidgeting.
He seems to be joking, but is he? I don't answer, but instead I keep moving backwards, slowly, so as to not show more fear that I already have.
Wind whistles past us, and I hear its voice muttering strange phrases. This is the beginning, it whispers. A beginning of what? Wind usually isn't so mysterious. "Look, missus, Daemon really didn't mean it like that. He's a joker by nature. Sort of as a reaction against all he's gone through-"
"I'd appreciate it if you don't go blabbing out my entire history to the first stranger that approaches us," Daemon states coldly to the large man.
"I'm just trying to be polite, which is more than I can say you're trying to do." The large man snaps back..
"Well, how do you know I'm joking? Eh? I could secretly be a cannibal. I could be waiting for the right moment to take out my knife," which he quickly does with a efficiency that demonstrates he's done it many times before, "and slit all your throats. I'm mighty hungry, see as how I didn't have much of a breakfast this morning." He grins, but it's not a friendly grin. His teeth look sharp and eager for blood. Or maybe it's my overactive imagination.
"Daemon!" The larger man is glaring at Daemon with a strange intensity. As if he's mad at him, but he's so used to be being mad at him he's almost amused.
"I-it's okay. We'll leave." I'm pulling Marin away even faster. I don't care about fear anymore. These two men are strange and they're soldiers. There is no worse combination.
"Are you really here to protect us?" Marin interjects. All three of us freeze.
"We'll most likely than not die trying," Daemon replies dryly.
Upper Gods (there are Lower Gods spiritlings
Mother: mother of all, strongest of all, and most illusive. Her power connects all things, and she is in everything. Those that have her power strongly in thier veins have power that comes from the earth, and everything that walks on it. They can usually hear the cryptic messages of Wind spiritlings, and have little difficulty with reading minds.
Frost:Mother's lover, but not the father of all. The yin to her yang. Quick to anger, but sympathetic as well.
Magic: lover of Frost. She is most sexually driven of the Gods, and occasionally goes down into Lenaog to find herself a lover. A child of Magic is always, without exception, a great sorceress, for she always has female offspring. Magic, though, covering her tracks, sends her offspring to another woman who worships her is asking for child.
Prince Sun: illegitimate son of Frost and Mother, owning most of the world. Half brother of Princess Moon. He dislikes titles, and when he's on earth goes by the simple name Fiachna.
Princess Moon: daughter of Frost and Magic. Magic, angry at Frost for leaving her for Mother after a little while, made it so that her own daughter would never share anything with Prince Sun. She is also known as the Faerie Queen. When she's on earth, she goes by many names, and in as many forms. To amuse herself, she travels as a small fairy, wings as thing and fragile as a rose's petals, and nails as sharp as a wolf's incisor. As well as Queen Faerie and Queen Mab, she's known as Vampyre, Colbail. She and her brother are rarely seen in the sky together, except of a few occasions when they meet secretly to exchange gossip.