DISCLAIMER: I own nothing here, except maybe the plot, and I doubt that even that's original. But the title I own (and I like it) and I own all the Ersolonian characters.
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WARNING: If all you're going to do is read this then razz me about my writing ability, then don't even bother. If you're going to make fun of me, do it intelligently. Criticize, but don't flame cruelly unless you can write better.
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Kroniclae
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Chapter One
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Kolswerth Capital City, Ersolonia
In Marianna's mind, the assault came with little or no forewarning; a blast of fire here and a torrent of screaming there, and that was that. The castle was under attack. Alarm bells had gone off in her mind, and she ran without thinking. She had barely gotten out to the stables to grab Moonbolt to try and help fight when she'd been struck on the head from behind and tumbled to the ground, unconscious. That was the last thing she remembered before waking up sprawled on a plain of sand, salty water lapping at her heels.
The day had certainly started out normally. She'd woken up with a trill of Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty! ringing in her head, as he always did, and had buried her face into the pillows with a groan to the blinding daylight, as she always did.
"Come on, you!" he ordered with real-voice this time, nudging her head with his velvety nose. "Up! Up!"
"Goway," Marianna moaned piteously, pushing at his head. "It had better be later than it feels like, you bastard!"
"Mari, it's eleven in the morning."
She sat up, glaring at him out of big green eyes, her tangled blond hair thrown around in an artful display about her head. "Y'know, if bedhead was seen as an acceptable hairstyle, you could set a whole new fashion," Moonbolt noted.
She threw a pillow at him. "Ha, ha, jackass. You'd give Father's jester a run for his money."
"Instead of trading insults, shouldn't you be getting dressed? Come on, even your mother says to get up."
Mari's brow shot up to far it was quite in danger of disappearing into those messy locks. "My mother said that. My mother. You mean she tore herself away from the ever-important business of glittering with gemstones to actually tell you herself that she wanted me awake?"
"Yep," Moon chirped. "Aren't you lucky? If you hurry you can make lunch."
"You callin' me slow, hornhead!?"
"Well, considering how long it takes you to get dressed every day…"
"YOU try getting into one of those Court gowns, see how long YOU take!"
The stallion snickered, shaking his horned head in mock exasperation. "Wouldn't that be a sight? Well, my love, I'll meet you in the dining hall. Might have time to fly around the castle a few times, too!" He dodged the next pillow she threw at him and leaped from the balcony. She heard the peculiar thunderclap as his wings snapped open, eating at the air to keep him aloft, and crawled to the edge of the bed to watch her Spirithorse partner soar off into the cloudy sky.
"Careful, Moon," she muttered to herself. "Looks like it's gonna rain."
Spirithorse is a stupid name for them, she thought languidly, watching her bonded until his snow-white coat was merely a speck against the dark nimbus clogging the sky. Whoever thought it up should be shot.
A rap at the door, sharp and authoritative. "Princess? Princess, are you up?"
Mari grimaced, rolling out of the bed in a panic, getting her feet tangled in a blanket and hitting the ground with an "Ooph!" The grating voice—like fingernails on a blackboard—rang out again, nearly as annoying as the incessant knocking. "Prin-cess? I'm coming in!"
"Ah! Yes, Mrs. Ferris, I'm up, I'm up!" Mari yelled, kicking the cloth off her feet, pulling herself to a stand via the bedpost just as the door swung open and the formidable figure of Mrs. Ferris, Mari's governess-cum-housemaid, swept inside.
"At last; did you expect to sleep all morning?" the iron-like woman trumpeted, sweeping towards Mari's wardrobe.
"Um…" That was the thing with Mrs. Ferris; she never walked, she swept. And that was only one of the things about her that cowed Mari. The fact that Mrs. Ferris had been the one to change the baby princess' diapers had been another.
"Well?" The tall woman pinned Mari with a steel-gray eye, pulling from the wardrobe a wine-red gown with gold trim and small emeralds embedded in the collar and cuffs.
"I-I'm sorry, Mrs. Ferris, it was a late night last night."
"That cursed sword teacher of yours kept you late enough that you slept in this much?"
"Um, no, it wasn't Forlay. Moon got a huge thorn in his hoof and was up all night whining about it until I went down to the stables and pulled it out for him. Then I had to clean it, put cream on it, bandage it—it bled quite a bit, it was a rather big thorn—"
"I don't want any more excuses! Now let me put this on you!" Mrs. Ferris flourished the dress and pushed Mari forcefully behind a dressing curtain.
You'll back me up on the thorn thing, won't you? Mari begged Moon in mind-voice. I don't want Forlay to get into trouble again.
Course I will. I'll even limp for you!
Agh! You're a peach, Moon!
Mrs. Ferris wiggled Mari from her nightie, tossing it carelessly aside for the maids who would clean the girl's room once she left it. Mari pulled the wine-colored gown hurriedly over her head, knowing that if she wasn't fast now she'd get a lecture on how Mrs. Ferris was a busy woman and couldn't possibly be bothered to take any more time than she had to out of her packed schedule to get Mari dressed and ready for the day.
"You're turning into quite the Southern belle," Mrs. Ferris grunted with an almost uncharacteristic fondness as she tugged the laces on the bodice tight. "You'll soon bag yourself a handsome prince in a nice country and live happily ever after, won't you?"
"Mrs. Ferris! I don't think bag is quite the right word!"
"Oh, Princess, you ought to be used to coarse speech by now, you certainly spend enough time with those rough Skydivers."
"Yes, but…"
The Skydivers are the Skydivers.
"I'm not really a Southern belle," Mari continued, struggling to breathe through the tightness of the bodice; it was like being squeezed through a tiny metal pipe! "I'm not a Southerner."
"Oh, just accept the compliment, Princess; it's not polite to contradict flattery."
"Well, then, thank you, Mrs. Ferris."
"Much better." The governess finished with the laces on Mari's back and began with combing out her hair. "How many petticoats is this gown supposed to have?"
"Oh, please, Mrs. Ferris, no petticoats today; it doesn't matter with this one, anyway."
"Well, you've already got the thing on. Besides, your mother wants to speak to you about something very important, and I expect that something won't quite require petticoats."
Oh, great.
Cue the dread.
Mari grimaced at the wall.
"Turn around, Princess. Aah, beautiful. And in only a half hour, too. Excellent timing; I'm a busy woman and I haven't the time to primp you and make you all pretty. Off to Court, now; your mother is waiting." And with that, Mrs. Ferris swept metallically from Mari's rooms.
The Princess sat on her bed, hand to her stomach, trying to catch her breath. "I don't know how I'll be able to breathe," she gasped. "Mrs. Ferris did the bodice much too tight this time."
"Tell her that, then," Moon suggested from behind her. "I decided to get you from here, instead of the dining hall."
"Oh, my, I couldn't! I'm terrified of her, you know that!"
"So you can fight off a dragon but you can't stand up to your governess?"
"I had lots of help with that dragon. Mrs. Ferris is far more frightening than any old lizard."
She stood, brushing imaginary dust from the gown's velvet hue, heading for the door. "Well, shall we?"
The façade she showed to the rest of the world was the perfection only a princess could fake: quiet, demure, a gentle smile always adorning her lips. While mingling at Court, she was aloof and cool, yet not rudely so, never refusing a dance unless her mother forbade it. Laughter was always ready to float from her mouth; she always presented herself as the beautiful and mysterious creature she felt she was. Success was not a very common thing for the youngest daughter of the king—or for the youngest child of anybody, really—but Mari felt it her duty to succeed, and to show up her six sisters in the process.
The real Mari, though… well, not even Mari knew that.
She knew the real Mari hated Court life, hated all the glittering jewels and fake smiles and barely hidden insults behind perfumed words. Well, I suppose I'm a bit of a hypocrite if I demean those people with Moon but become one of them the instant I step into the Hall. She knew the real Mari loved swordplay, and couldn't use magic nearly as well as people thought she could—not nearly as well as anyone else in her family. She knew it was an effort for the real Mari to even light a fire. She knew the real Mari wasn't close to her family, and that the real Mari loved her Spirithorse Moonbolt very much.
But that was about it.
And that scared her.
She moved through the huge double doors to the Hall of Court, that façade automatically settling over her. Moon drew himself up, puffing out his chest, walking at her right side as the Spirithorses were supposed to, limping slightly like he'd promised her. Nobles turned and bowed to her as she passed; she responded with a light smile and a cool nod. Immediately after she had moved on, she knew, quiet whispers would erupt about the snooty princess, just loud enough for her to catch a few words. She set her jaw and proceeded to ignore it.
The Queen sat high up on a raised dais, looking out over her subjects basking in her glow, the stern look on her beautiful face that told Mari she was thinking very hard about something. The Queen's stallion, Stormmane, stood beside her, in much the same pose as Moon. Mari altered her course, leading Moon over to the dais, climbing up the stairs, pausing in front of her mother with a deep curtsy. Moon faced Stormmane, bowing low to the smaller stallion, spreading his wings to touch the floor in the Spirithorse sign of respect.
"Good morning, Mother," Marianna said softly, rising. "Mrs. Ferris said you had to talk to me about something."
"It certainly took you long enough to get here, Marianna," the Queen replied. She gestured gracefully to the chair beside her, the one that was usually Mari's eldest sister's chair. "Sit here; Caranna is out dancing and I do not wish to yell a private conversation all the way down to your chair."
Mari obeyed, sinking with pleasure into the soft cushioned seat, keeping her back rigid and posture straight. Moon took his position at her right shoulder to listen in quietly. "I apologize for my lateness," Mari murmured.
"At least you look presentable. That is the gown that the king gave you for your birthday last month, am I correct?"
"No, Mother, this is the one Noranna gave me for my birthday. Father gave me the silver hair comb, remember?"
"Oh, yes, of course." The Queen cleared her throat commandingly; an immaculate servant materialized at her shoulder, proffering a tray filled with flutes of fruit juice. As Carolina took one, Marianna snatched the opportunity to rub her eyes and yawn.
I'm so tired…
"Now, darling," the Queen began, sipping her drink delicately. "I presume you've heard the rumors?"
Mari accepted a glass of niruo juice from the waiter with a curt nod, taking a small mouthful of the bittersweet pulpy liquid before answering. ""Which rumors, Mother?"
Please don't let her be talking about the rumors of me helping fight that dragon, because those rumors are true and I really don't want her knowing about that.
"The rumors the commoners have been tossing around."
"Oh. Yes, I have."
Mari had heard the whispers in the streets, from her own little personal cache of spies. The weird rumors, coupled with the thick, soupy fear, dribbling in through the alleys until it could make one gag.
"The worlds are disappearing."
"Something's eating them up."
"Soon we'll be next, and what will the King do then?"
"Those are just rumors, aren't they? Brought on by a crowd of frightened peasant folk, right?"
The Queen hesitated.
Mari went cold.
"They are… much more than just rumor, I fear. Marianna, those rumors are very much the truth."
Oh, dear Lady.
"But…" Mari breathed. "Why? Who would want to do that?"
Carolina shook her elegant head, careful not to dislodge the careful coif. "We do not know. Your father the King has been researching this for quite a few months now, and is still no closer. There is a man named Ansem the Wise that may know something about it; Racne himself has gone to meet with him. I can't say I'm not worried about your father, because there is more to the story.
"Marianna, I realize this is highly off topic, but you do not seem happy here."
Mari jumped, eyes going wide with guilt. "Mother, that is ludicrous. I'm perfectly happy here."
"Marianna, don't lie to your own mother," the Queen said warningly. "It is a sin."
Mari shrugged, spreading her hands, the all-too-familiar sulky frown pushing its way onto her face. "What can I say?" she asked. "You read me like an open book, Mother." Another lie.
But it worked. "Of course I do, I'm your mother," Carolina said, pleased at the false flattery. "I realize that this is also highly inappropriate. It is dangerous and unfit for a princess. Improper, perilous, not done, whichever words you wish to choose. However, I have no choice.
"There is a person called the Keybearer; he holds the power to stop this horror. Though it may be difficult to pry that power out of him, it still can be done." The Queen took a deep breath, and for the first time during the entire conversation Mari noticed her mother was unusually pale. "And I wish for you to fetch him."
"NO!" Moon said loudly before the last word was out of Carolina's mouth, pushing himself between queen and princess. "I won't allow it!"
"Moon…" Mari said warningly
"Calm yourself, Moonbolt," Stormmane rumbled.
"I will not allow Mari to be forced to put her life in danger!"
"Even if it is to save the lives of everyone else?"
"I—" Moon faltered, seeming at a loss of words. Stormmane shook his granite-colored head. "That is selfish of you, Moonbolt."
"My lord—but—why Mari?"
"There is a reason for that," Carolina cut in, before Stormmane had a chance to reply. "It must be someone of royal blood; in case she encounters someone of high rank whilst on her mission she can easily overpower them with her own rank. None of my other daughters are fit to go. Therefore, Marianna must. It's her duty. Of course, she will not be going alone. You, Moonbolt, shall be with her at all times, correct?"
"O-of course, but—"
"Then it's settled." The Queen sat back in her splendid chair, looking vaguely pleased with herself. "You two shall set out tomorrow morning."
"Wait a minute," Mari snapped. "Hold on. Don't I get a say in this? How do I find this person? If I have to leap worlds, how do I do that? You haven't explained anything, Mother!"
"You'll find ways for the last two questions," the Queen said evasively. "As for the first… no, you have no say in this. Enough of being selfish, Marianna, and try to think of things other than yourself for a change." There was a red tinge of anger in her voice.
Mari gritted her teeth. "Fine, I will," she snarled, temper rising. "I'll go off into foreign land, with no one except Moon for company, and you can all just die!"
"Marianna!" The Queen was shocked, but Mari had already bolted from the dais, her arm knocking over her juice in a spatter of mauve liquid, Moon trotting after her.
I don't care, I don't care anymore. They hate me, that's why they're trying to get rid of me!
Well, fine. I hate them, so like I said they can all just die!
She choked back a strangled sob, fighting her way through the surprised nobles and out the door. "Mari!" she heard Moon's dim voice in her ears. "Mari, stop!"
Mari ignored him, flinging herself through the door to her suite and all the way to the back, the bedroom. She slowed to a stop, in the middle of the room, chest heaving, fury pounding in her ears. An ornament, in the form of an ugly baby, rose behind her and smashed against the opposite wall.
She barely noticed, even when Moon crept through the open door, nosing her gently in the shoulder.
How dare she? Who does she think she is to just order me to do this? What, does she want me to gallivant off and kill myself? Oh, yes, that would certainly take care of the misfit princess who cavorts with the Skydivers! 'Twould flick me off the Royal line quite nicely! A very quiet way to pick me off! "The poor Princess Marianna, killed on a special mission!" Princesses aren't even supposed to do these kinds of things; what about Stuart or Benjamin? They're the Princes; they've got more power than I have. I don't care if I'm better at swordplay, I don't want to go find some cocky idiot who's supposed to save the worlds!
I don't want to be a part of this.
But I know.
Oh, she knew.
"Mari?" Moon said tentatively, nuzzling her arm again. "Are you—"
She whirled around, flicking the lanterns alight with a clap of her hands and a little twist of magic that left her slightly breathless. "We'd better get packing. Call Alice in here, would you, so she can help me?"
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"And there we go, your Highness," the elderly chambermaid, Alice, croaked in pleasure, pushing a small stalk of leaves into the stuffed pack just before Mari closed it. "A stick of jasmine, for luck."
"Erm," Mari said absently. "Thank you, Alice. You may go."
"Good luck on your journey, Princess." The woman bowed low, despite her cracking back, and hobbled out the door, followed by her aging Spirithorse, his gray coat faded to a dirty white.
"Think you have enough?" Moon asked quietly from the balcony.
Mari nodded, watching the setting sun. "I asked Alice to get me servant's clothes, so I can wear things that aren't quite so difficult to put on. I've also got one ballgown, just in case. I can't believe that took all afternoon, though." She paced out to the terrace to join him. "Usually I can be packed for something within two hours."
"Well, it did take Alice quite a while to find the right size of clothes for you."
"I don't want to do this, Moon. I'm scared."
His barrel bulged momentarily as he heaved a sigh. "Neither do I. Your mother would tell you to stop being such a brat and learn a lesson from Cinderella, whatever that means."
"Mother's never been in this situation," Mari shot back, leaning against his side. "She can take her Cinderella and shove it up her rear. I really don't care anymore."
"Neither do I. Now I think about it, I do want to leave this place."
"Good, because we're kind of being forced to."
Sullen silence.
"I'm going to the stables now," Moon said finally, stretching. "We should both get some sleep before the morning. It'll be a long day."
"All right," even though Mari knew she wouldn't sleep a wink. "Good night."
"Good night, love."
He dove off the balcony and glided away.
Mari turned away before she had a chance to see him disappear, flinging herself fully clothed onto the bed. She closed her eyes and sighed.
Maybe things will look up tomorrow.
But there never would be a tomorrow.
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Mari wasn't quite sure what had woken her up. She opened her eyes to find herself sprawled on her back, the wine-red skirts wrinkled and rucked up around her thighs, light from the midnight moon spilling onto her carpet. She sat up, blinking blearily, tugging her bodice straight.
Ugh, I can't wear this anymore, she suddenly decided, contorting her arms to reach the laces on her back, emitting involuntary grunts as muscles stretched the ways they weren't generally supposed to stretch. It took her a good fifteen minutes, but the gown fell off her body into a heap on the floor at last and she could heave a full sigh of relief.
Rooting around in the pack, she pulled out a simple green dress, with darker green around the hem, wriggling into it, allowing herself quiet amazement at its simplicity.
"We need more of these in Court," she muttered to herself, sweeping her long hair aside to tug up the zipper in the back. "Look, a zipper instead of laces! This dress must be from an entirely different country."
Her body clad and nothing else to do, Mari sat awkwardly on her bed and twiddled her thumbs.
That was when the screams began.
At first, she thought it was a few of the servants getting rowdy in each other's pants. She groaned, striding through her apartment, marveling at how easy it was to move in this servant's dress. Those damn commoners… when Father gets back I'll leave a message for him about this!
She flung open the door, mouth ready to give them a good tongue-lashing, and stopped in abrupt shock.
"What the hell?" she said loudly, voice cutting through some of the terrified shrieks and running feet of the crowd rushing by. She reached in, snagged an arm. "What's happening?" she demanded of the young girl she'd caught.
The girl shrieked, tugging at her arm. "Oh, your Highness, please let me go! They're coming—they're coming for us all!"
"What are you babbling about? What is all this?" Mari gave her a rough shake. "Speak!"
"The castle's under attack! Run, Princess, while you still can!"
The girl wrenched free—such is the strength of fear—bolting after her companions just as the last of the crowd vanished around the corner.
"Hunh. Silly fantasies of the servants." Mari muttered, sniffing—and caught the smell of brimstone.
Fire?
She sniffed again.
Coppery scent of blood, coupled with roses, hard on the heels of the brimstone.
Magical fire!
She scampered off without thinking, flying down the hallway opposite of the way the servants had gone, her mind screaming Moon's name: Moon! Attack! I'm coming to the stables!
I'll be ready!
She flung herself down the stairs, skidding 'round a corner and out a door she knew would take her to the kitchen garden, and from there to the stables. She ran down the gravelly path, her breath harsh in her ears the only noise, the Elven blood running through her ears silencing her footsteps.
Talk about loyalty to the master. Those servants scarpered the instant they heard the first attack!
Gravel squirted out from under her feet as she whirled a corner, stealing her balance along with it. She crashed to the ground with a yelp, scrambling up again in a second, her knee bleeding.
Ow, ow, ow!
The stables were in sight; Moon's shiny whiteness visible in the shadows. Fire danced all around, consuming the buildings around him, staining his coat bloody-red.
Moon! she shrieked.
Mari, hurry up! There's still some—
A thump, a rush, a scream, then oblivion.
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A/N: Yeah, I know, it's kind of crappy, but when you use made-ups in these introducing them is kind of hard. This is a rewrite of a REALLY crappy one I wrote when I was ten; if you'd read that one you'd be glad I put this better version up instead XD
Lesse, can anyone pick out how I used the names of six of the Princesses of Heart?? I used Sleeping Beauty, Snow White, Belle, Alice, Jasmine and Cinderella (sorry, didn't have a chance to use Kairi). Not necessarily by name, either; look carefully. Person who guesses right gets to choose which of the island three Mari meets first: Riku, Sora or Kairi. Yeah, really lame contest thing, but I don't wanna decide, so I'll make YOU guys do it XD
I'll make the next chapter better, I promise. And if there are any questions as to the title of this, it was originally gonna be called Kingdom Hearts Chronicles (clichéd) then Chroniclae (didn't sound right) so I modified the spelling of Chroniclae to Kroniclae (the Ersolonian spelling XD). It's still the same title, but with a nifty spelling!