Chapter 1: Arianrhod

A cattish woman gazes out the large French windows. Her golden knee-length hair is intricately coifed and curled about her heart-shaped face. If one was to be near her, they would notice a slight dusting of fur and freckles. The woman, being strangely lithe and agile looking, with a pair of cat ears and a tail, is obviously bastet, a feline lycanthrope from the Nyle, the bastet's territory.

A floor-length magenta sari with gold trim is wrapped lovingly around her slim, rounded figure. Huge gaudy hoops bedeck her ears and a headpiece of gold chains and baubles accent her coif. A necklace of gold hoops, each one the mirror of the one opposite of it, circles her swan-like neck. Pure gold sandals grace her dainty feet as the magenta ribbons climb and weave their way to her knees.

The bastet woman continues to stare out the enormous windows in her suite's parlor. If one was to stand next to her and see what she was so avidly watching, they would be confused. She gazes at an old darkling woman, some 40 years older than her own 21 years. The old woman, called Celeste, was the majest of the House of Thaen, until she was deemed too bitchy and too much like the ancient's ex-majest, Sorsha. Personally, the young woman thinks, Celeste was cut some major slack compared to Sorsha. She at least wasn't executed at the chopping block with wings cut off and hands tied behind her back. The woman grins, remembering the execution and who the new majests of the two coverns are. Kioshi Mortal, Majest Tsura's wife and her sister by title was named the new majest of Thaen. Her brother by title, Reddik Destiny, was the executioner and reformer in the case of the ancients. Red charged that bitch Sorsha, with fraud, embezzlement, and fifteen counts of murder, three counts of rape, one count of genocide and one count of attempted murder. The young woman laughs telepathically, "You'd think she'd have learned from 'Phoebe' not to piss me off. Stupid ancient. You just don't try to kill me and then try and get away with it." She glances back at the old darkling in a ratty tattered old green taffeta gown. She laughs silently again, "Lucky Celeste. If I hadn't vouched for you to my sister and Drake, you'd be dead, and at the hands of your own brother."

"Mistress Gaul! Are you in here?" The bastet turns and glances at the door, slightly angry her thoughts have been interrupted, "Aye, Grace, I'm in here. And do call me by my given name, not my title." A four foot 6 inch white bastet scampers inside. She stumbles over her sky blue and silver sari, then grins up at the older bastet. "Excuse me Arianrhod, I was not thinking." Ari smiles at the girl then helps her regain her balance, "I take it you have something of importance for me Grace?" The kitten-ranked bastet hands her a parchment scroll, tied with black silk ribbon and scented with ravensprig. Ari smiles at Grace, "Thank you dear, I'll ring when I'm done." Grace curtsies and backs out the door, stumbling on the hem of her sari again. Ari shakes her head and smiles, the kid reminds her of when she was fourteen. A clumsy kitten with a bad swipe and little importance. She grins, thinking, "And just look at me now. Head High Council member of the Baestyne Pryde, Decipherer of Riddles, Guardian of Fire and worshiper of the great goddesses, Bastet and Isis." Ari closes her eyes and whispers a chant to her patron goddesses. She opens her eyes and stretches out on an overstuffed royal purple beanbag chair and unties the ribbon. She grins, seeing it was who she originally thought it to be. The letter reads:

Dearest Aria,

Sister dearest, I've missed you greatly. Have you freed any slaves yet? She laughs mentally, imagining her brother's grin. Darling, I've heard that Kululu is to be challenged for majesty by Panthra soon. Don not let Panthra succeed. It will be the death of you, literally. Challenge Kululu while you can and lock Panthra away. Unless of course, you wish to be a slave yourself and have your dear brothers and sister break you out? She pictures his grimace as he wrote the 's-word' then laughs at the thought of being in a Baestyne prison. All I ask lovey, is that you stay safe and in one piece. You would look too dashing with a scar running along that lovely face of yours.

With Love,

Your favorite brother,

Raven Spell,

Majest of the Denodyne Clan

Ari sighs, "Panthra, Panthra, Panthra. You are my friend, yet you see me as too much of a threat to you. What a pity. I'm really not looking forward to killing you. Maybe I'll just put you under house arrest or thrown in your own private jail cell for treason." Ari whistles softly and her red-tailed hawk Eyrie perches on her shoulder. She strokes his feathers and whispers, "Parchment. Red ink." She smiles as the large bird soars to her sitting room and out of sight. A few minutes later the hawk returns, a large scroll of parchment in his talons. A small white eastern mountain owl, Mari, follows with a small ink well and a red ribbon. The birds perch on her shoulders after she takes the items from them. She bestows a kiss upon each of the birds' heads. "Thank you lovies." The birds coo, and then fly into the rafters above her. She scrolls a short note to her brother:

Ravey dahling,

Thank you for that tip. I have freed a few slaves, but they have decided to stay on as paid servants for me. Doll, you so need to come visit. Your suite lies empty and dull, yet clean and waiting for your return. I am no longer mourning Drake Nocturna. I have decided he was just using me to gain power and respect, like DeSade. I played good little lap-cat, trophy girlfriend and bodyguard. Never again. Ever.

Love ya dahling,

Aria G.

Mari soars down again and hoots. Ari rolls the scroll and ties the crimson ribbon around it. She pulls a small silver canister out of her pocket and takes the top off it, twisting the base. She parts her lips slightly and runs a bright crimson lipstick on her lips, then kisses the scroll. She hands the scroll to Mari, "This goes to Ravey, dahling. He's in the Majest quarters of Denodyne Clan." The owl flaps silently out an open French door, then soars downwards 19 floors. Ari rises and walks out the open door onto a balcony and leans on the balcony's ebony railing, crossing her arms in front of her. Her golden eyes follow the birds' progress till the owl is out of sight. Ari sighs inwardly, and then glances down at the lipstick in her hand. The color of blood. A sign of what's to come, whether the death or loss of innocence on her part. She smiles, thinking of dearest Sess. The original love of her life. Sesshoumaru, the silver-haired darkling who healed her dead, stone cold heart. The one to see it her way and to understand her childhood. She grimaces and a clear picture comes to her mind.

Her father stands over her, a bullwhip in one hand and a tankard of ale in the other. She cowers next to a rocking chair and a corner. There are dents in the wall around her and every time her father flicks the whip, she cries out and the chair creaks, rocking slightly. Her father screams at her, "You whore! You trashy piece of shit! All you are is a good-for-nothing lying bitch!" He looks her up and down then licks the warm spittle off his lips, appraising her young 15-year-old body. He grins, his yellowing teeth glaring out at her hideously, "Well, maybe good for one thing..." He reaches toward her and she whimpers. He stumbles and falls in his drunkenness as she takes advantage of this opportunity and darts away. She runs towards the door, sobbing pitifully. She sprints to towards an open door and ducks inside. The stable. She scampers into a stall with a small grey and black appaloosa filly, which was just recently broke to a rider. Ari quivers near the horse's hindquarters as the door creaks slowly shut. Someone limps inside, a lantern held high, "Here kitty, kitty, kitty. Come out and play with daddy!" She whimpers, clamping her hands over her mouth. She clambers onto the filly's back, preparing to gallop out when he opens the doors. The girl hunkers down onto the young mare's back, her fingers woven tightly in her mane and her knees clenched around the girth. Henry, her father, swings open the door of his daughter's favorite hiding place and falls back on his arse dazed when the filly bursts out of the stall, nearly trampling him. She directs the filly to the doors, followed by the sound of a splintering wood door and the pair galloping across the Irish moors.

Ari shivers, not liking that image. She sighs, and then walks back into her suite, heading for her bedroom. She pulls a white silken rope hanging from the ceiling and Grace bounds in. Ari forces a smile, "Draw me a bath with, hmm, lavender oils today. And bring me some fresh bed silks and a nightdress. I shall have need of a large towel, passionflower shampoo and conditioner and my forest green and silver slippers and robe. That will be all for now, Grace. You are dismissed." Grace curtsies, a look of confusion on her face, since her mistress never spoke so tersely to her, or to any of the other servants or slaves. On the contrary, she'd been working hard on higher wages for servants and promoting slaves to servitude or freedom. She makes her way to the bathroom to draw a hot bath in the 91 square foot tub. The gurgle of running water takes up the silence of the room and the steam; the emptiness. A few minutes later Grace walks back to Ari, a medium-sized towel, bathrobe and slippers in one hand and the bed silks in the other. She smiles, her lower lip trembling slightly, "Your bath is ready, Lady Arianrhod. I shall lay your nightgown on the end of your bed after I change the silks. Do you wish me to wash your hair, my lady?" Ari shakes her head and the young bastet hands her the bath items. She touches Grace's shoulder, "I'm sorry, m'dear. You didn't deserve my temper." She saunters off to the bathroom, removes her headpiece and unwraps her sandals. After she's discarded her sari, she stands in front of the full length mirror and touches the diamond collar with the 3 1/2 inch onyx raindrop and a tear runs down her face. DeSade MalSmythe. The only one who ever had the guts to dump her, albeit she had amnesia at the time and didn't remember him anyway. She grins, "Sadey, you should have waited to leave me. I was your good luck charm. It really is too bad you lost your head in battle, I really was quite fond of you." She removes the collar and steps into the tub with a small hiss at the heat, then a content purr as she sinks down into the swirling depths of the lavender water. She begins to wash her hair, the scent of passionflowers filling the air and mingling with the lavender steam. As she rinses the conditioner from her hair, a short rap upon the door echoes through the room. Ari grins, "Come in, dahling. I have nothing to hide." Sesshoumaru strides through the door and shuts it and turns around, stopping at the sight of her. She rises from the tub and dabs herself off with the soft towel, then wraps it around her, knotting it between her breasts. She smiles, her sharp cat teeth gleaming, "Hello Sessy, dahling." He looks like he is being strangled by his kimono collar. His middle and index fingers pull on his collar, desperately trying to take in air. She grins, "So I do still have that effect on you." Ari saunters over to him and runs her fingertips down his cheek and arm to grasp his large hand with her two tiny ones. She smiles as she feels the pulse in his wrist beat wildly, "Sessy, Sessy, Sessy. Are you afraid of little old me?' She grins as his pulse slows and he glares at her, "Ari, I have to talk to you. I don't trust Lulu enough right now." She nods, "I'll be right back." She walks into her room and changes into a forest green nightgown, then slips her arms into the robe, leaving it open, and her feet into the slippers. She runs a brush through her hair and plaits it into a long thick tight braid. She walks back to Sess and clasps his hand to lead him to her bean bag chairs. She sinks down onto a purple one while he sits on a green and gold one rather awkwardly.