Tayli nodded silently and started to go back into her room, when she heard William stand up behind her and take a step forward. She paused with her hand on the doorknob and turned to look at the young knight, who stood shifting his weight from foot to foot, looking slightly uncomfortable.

He finally came out with, "Ah . . .welcome to the group. I just wanted to say that you fight really well, and, um . . .thank you for saving the Prince. I hope we can be friends." He blurted the last sentence out, and his cheeks tinged slightly pink as he realized how stupid he must have sounded. But Tayli was grateful for the offer and appreciated the thanks, and so she smiled, and turned back to her room.

She headed straight to the bathroom, washed her face and hands and combed her hair before tying it up again, musing all the while. She'd seen how open the knights were with each other and felt nervous. She wasn't used to talking without holding back to anyone that she hadn't known for a long time, and felt intimidated at how easily the knights conversed amongst themselves. Tayli was not naturally trusting, and knew that she wouldn't be able to summon up the ability to act completely like they did. For one thing, she was a different person and had a different purpose. They were companions to the Prince as well as protectors, she was not. The most natural way for her to conduct herself her whole life had been fiercely independent and antisocial, but she well understood that she could not act that way here. Even letting a select few through to her wasn't acceptable. She would have to gain the trust of all-and that meant making them all her 'friends'. Tayli shuddered slightly, whether from the last thought or from the cold water she'd just splashed on her face she didn't know. By the time she was exiting the bathroom, she had decided that she'd have to settle for somewhere in the middle-she would be reserved (very, if she had a choice), but still try not to cultivate the idea that she was someone who tolerated no one and snapped at everyone who tried to approach her.

Tayli strolled out of her room, swirling her cloak around her shoulders as she went. The black fabric rustled softly as it whirled through the air and then settled around her shoulders, flowing around her body as if it possessed her, a cloak that would fit none but her. In reality, it was just a long piece of dark fabric, but the graceful way it moved when she walked and the manner in which it fit as if made for her made it seem like more. She clasped it loosely at the high neck, so that it swung open a little. Tayli had tactfully left her daggers in her room, hidden under the mattress, her saddlebags stashed in the shadows under the bed. Kanai el' kumme, however, hung by her side as ever.

---Sometimes Tayli could have sworn that her sword had a soul. Kanai was beautiful, an expertly constructed piece of art as well as a deadly blade. She often mused aloud while cleaning or whetting it-the rhythmic strokes brought her to peace and helped her concentrate. Whereas other people used deep breaths and silence to relax and think clearly (A/N: Modern people call this meditation-it's a little less refined here), Tayli could focus anywhere and everywhere as long as she had Kanai with her. As a result, she often found herself telling her sword things, if only to get them clearer in her head. After a while, if you'd had your sword for a year or so and 'knew' it, it got a lot like talking to a horse. The same listening silence, without a reaction.

Weapons were strange things, really. They could be used for peace, or war. Deadly, or lifesaving. To condemn, or to honor. The same sword could be put to a million different uses, and good or evil all depended on the wielder.

Tayli, and all the other aspiring warriors, had had this drummed into their heads over and over-it was a critical message, to be learnt at a young age, and learnt well. The experts that Menlan and his fellow Masters produced could do devastating things with their arts if they wanted to. ---

As Tayli strolled out, she noticed that she was now the only one left in the common room. From behind each of the doors, she heard slight noises, indicating that the knights were getting washed up and possibly changing. Wandering over to the desk that William had been sitting at, she saw a sealed letter lying on top, ready for posting. It was addressed to 'Lady Melizia of Midnight Sun', and Tayli vaguely wondered who she was. Sister, mother, aunt, grandmother, friend, lover? It was someone important enough to be writing to, at least. Midnight Sun, she knew from her history lessons, was one of the noble estates that had been passed down from father to son for generations, and was supposedly one of the most beautiful in Kyrria. Whoever it was, Sir William had good connections.

Vaguely thinking that she'd ask him about it later, Tayli started pacing the walls, searching for the hidden door in this room (by now, she was sure that at least all the guestrooms had them, to allow the servants hidden access). The thought that complete strangers were serving them was strange. She found the hidden exit in this room, too, hidden behind a panel, which, in contrast to the room, featured a dragon at the right spot, though it was cunningly covered and surrounded by the other repetitive decorations. She'd opened and closed it a few times when she heard one of the doors swing shut on its perfectly oiled hinges. Terian, clad in a completely new outfit (Tayli supposed one could afford to be that frivolous if one was a prince) stood at the other side of the room, staring openly at her.

Tayli raised a questioning eyebrow. He blushed slightly at being caught staring, and then, casting about for an escape, blurted,

"Could I look at your sword? It looks very fine."

Tayli, always wary, countered, "Only if I can see yours."

Terian nodded and disappeared into his room once again, emerging a few second later holding a dark green-painted leather scabbard in his hands. Gravely, Tayli unbuckled hers, and they exchanged swords at the same time.

Examining the scabbard critically, Tayli saw that it was made out of fine material, yet not the strongest type of leather, like hers-it was also made to be decorative, not only practical, and could be replaced easily. She drew the sword slowly, and held it out in front of her, testing the balance- which was exactly what she'd expected of the palace swords-perfect, unless you were as acute an expert as Tayli was; the balance of the sword was the tiniest bit off, undetectable unless you were Tayli or Jaedon, her Master.

Terian's sword was beautiful, though, made to impress. The hilt was broad enough to put two hands on it, wrapped in that same green leather, which, Tayli realized, taking a quick glance at the Prince, brought out his eyes. In the places where his hands wouldn't be, it was decorated by raised patters on the leather, which were then gilded with silver. The patterns depicted a leafy scene in which elves, fairies, gnomes, giants, and humans were all represented, joined together in harmony. At the very end of the hilt, where Tayli's pommel stone was, the wrapping ended and the wood underneath was revealed, forming a sculpture, perfect in every detail, of a beautiful female centaur, torso bent back over her sleek, poised body, arms flung out beside her, and hair streaming down. It fit amazingly with the overall design of the sword. The figurine was one of the most beautiful things Tayli had ever seen, and she turned it over and over in her hands to look at it completely, awed.

The blade of Terian's sword weighed a little less than hers, and carved around the base with the scrolling words, "Terian, son of Charmont and Eleanor, heir to the throne of Kyrria". Hefting the blade in one hand, Tayli did a few neat practice swings, and then, having gotten the feel of the weapon, did a little fancy trick- and footwork.

It was a good blade, she concluded, but its main purpose was showing off- she had no doubt that he did his practicing with an identical sword except for the decorations, and she had a sneaking suspicion that it had been a gift from his parents for his 16th birthday, judging by the new smell of leather, not yet invaded by the smell of human sweat.

Sliding Terian's sword back into the scabbard, she put it aside and watched as the Prince swung and parried in a mock duel with the air. She noticed with satisfaction that he had to use two hands, and that his control seemed to be a little off, using her sword. He, in turn, slid her sword back into its scabbard and handed it back, taking his own sword in his hands.

"Well?" Tayli prompted, buckling Kanai back onto her belt.

"It's beautiful, but I don't understand the inscription. The pommel stone especially is brilliant. Just-I know this will sound weird-it feels kind of odd, wrong almost. The balance is perfect, but the feel isn't right. It's almost as if the sword doesn't like me. Does that sound very stupid?"

Tayli shook her head, smiling, pleased. "It has to do with the peculiarities of blood magic. The ancient rituals have a strange magic woven within them, as does the sealing with blood." Terian looked even more confused, but politely refrained from asking as Tayli unconsciously traced the slight scar on her right palm.

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A/N: We're working on fixing the Internet-it should be up by the end of this week. Until then, I guess I'll keep writing. At the very end of the story, there will be my authentic explanation of magic, and the blood magic will also be explained.

IMPORTANT FOR ALL READERS: I'm going to start working on designing a website, so look forward to having one soon. It'll feature Kiil, explanations, and some sketches of the clothes they wear, etc. Possibly some side stories that aren't on ff.n. If you have ideas for the name of the site, feel free to contribute-I was thinking about Kanai.(whatever will show up here).com. Good/not good? Review!