The Lives of Death
"Majesty," The barkeeper called as the King of Thieves strode into the Dancing Dove. George glanced over and paused in his line to his room, heading for Solom, who cast aside his wiping cloth.
"Can I get you a drink, Majesty? He asked loudly, before leaning closer and whispering softly.
"There be a man in your rooms, Majesty," Solom drew back. "The usual, or perhaps something different?"
George raised an eyebrow, aware of several of his Court focusing on him, he nodded and smiled, "Sure thing, Solom. I'll have some ale."
George took the offered mug and nodded to some of his Rogues as he made his way up the stair case, subtly checking his hidden blades were within reach.
He softly climbed the stairs, silent footsteps as he moved his feet to where he knew the boards wouldn't creak. As he got to the top stair he slowly placed his drink on the wood, before slipping two daggers into his hands. He cautiously made his way to his room, pausing outside his door before kicking it open, and darting to the side in case a blade thrust would meet him.
There was no blade thrust, or any sign of movement, so George hesitantly stepped into the room. At a crack he threw himself across the wall and stood in the corner, his back to the wall, knives out.
A figure, draped in his chair next to the fire was spinning a blade in a gloved hand. Black silk covered the contours of their body, so George was unable to see what his body looked like. Fire danced across boots than shone like a mirror and the hilt of a blade could be seen peaking above the leather rim.
"Relax, George," the man spoke in a soft voice, "Take a seat." He gestured and the chair over by his window scraped across the floor over to the hearth.
George slowly straightened, the melodic voice ringing in his memory.
"Have a drink, seeing as you left your own on the stairway," a gloved finger flicked and two crystal glasses rose from his desk, followed by a bottle of brandy. The brandy tilted and began to pour the glasses of its own accord, George felt the hair on the back on his neck tingle, he was in the presence of a very powerful Mage.
But there was something, about his voice.
He slipped his blades back into his sheaths and slowly made his way over to him, deciding he could do nothing against a Mage this powerful.
A glass drifted over to him as he took a seat and he drank it guardedly, his Sight telling him it was without poison.
"You have been trying to look for me," he murmured softly, before raising his face, a coil of red hair appearing over his shoulder.
George's memory suddenly sharpened, "Alanna?"He gasped. Invisible hands slowly pulled back her hood and he stared at her.
Golden skin shifted as she rose gracefully to her feet, her brandy glass hovering in the air about her. Coal silk stitched onto the inside of the hood shimmered in the firelight and sent a distorted reflection onto her fiery red hair. A braid down the centre of her head banked at her neck and easily fell over her shoulder and vanished into her cloak. Silver flashed at her neck, and she wore a band with an amethyst stone sitting in the junction beneath her neck, between her collar bones. The necklace was matched by a pair of twinkling stones at her ears, the same deep purple as her eyes.
A silver clasp, in the shape of a claw, held her cloak across her chest and it released of its own accord as the cloak dropped, in a starless curtain to the chair. The silver pendant moved and George gaped as it took the form of a winged and scaled beast, a Dragon, before settling across her belt and stilling.
Black leather covered every inch of her body, with silver buckles and clasping the pieces together and holding Alanna's shape. She was taller than he remembered, several inches short of his own height and she was built on slender, feminine curves. A worn, but impeccable conditioned, belt held a pouch of some sort, two midnight sheaths, across her shoulder was another sheath and her legs each had one. In each sheath, a dagger, a sword, two duelling blades and small throwing knives fit each one easily; clasped once again, by small claws.
Her boots were a sturdy leather, and two hilts were seen between her ankles and boots. She flexed her hands and removed her gloves, watching him watch her as she slid the leather off, revealing more golden skin.
Dropping her gloves casually on the table she clasped her hands behind her back and watched him.
Jerking from his appraisal at her raised eyebrow he launched himself at her, noticing that she barely flinched, but did straighten, as he approached. As he hit her he realised that perhaps he should have moved slower, but all thoughts vanished as he pulled her into a hug.
Alanna embraced him for a moment, before pulling back, and though George tried to hold her, she pulled away with ease. He felt tears in his eyes as he realised she was here, but then he remembered where she was rumoured to be and he paled.
Amethyst eyes closed slowly before focusing on him as he stumbled away and collapsed in his chair.
"Your-Your," he was unable to form any sentence and Alanna also sat, relaxed but proud in his chair with an ease of authority and gazed into the fire.
His glass rose next to him, without any movement on her behalf, and he swung at it and downed the contents, gasping as it burnt his throat. Eyes watering he held the glass out, and the bottle rose and began to pour him another.
After a few glasses Alanna stirred and glanced over at him, "It's ok, George."
George shook his head and glanced at the empty bottle, thinking longingly of the others in his cupboard. Alanna got to her feet and glided over to crouch down in front of him, "No, really. It is ok," she said softly, cupping his face in both her hands.
Her scent hit him in a wave and he took a deep breath, she smelt like spring rain, and there was a hint of vanilla about her, along with something sweet.
One of her fingers stroked the scar along his left check and her eyes flashed, "Who did this?"
"Rogue trying for my Crown," he said, or he tried to. What actually came out was something a sleepy child would murmur, but Alanna understood.
"I hope he is dead," she remarked softly as she straightened and leaned in. George frowned, his hands going to his head as the room began to spin. Alanna's arms encircled him and she helped him to his feet before swinging him over her shoulder with ease. George blinked as the room tilted alarmingly and he was carried, as though a babe, to his bed.
The covers slid across his body as his clothes and boots were removed without a sound, or movement on Alanna's behalf. She sat next to him on the bed as he gazed up at her in what he later hoped wasn't adoration.
She flicked her fingers around his room, purple flaring in every corner and along the walls, window and door. "You will be safe for tonight; no one can enter here until noon unless you invite them in, so sleep well."
She hesitated and looked like she would say more before she stood and returned to her chair, downing the last of her brandy as her cloak settled over her shoulders and her gloves slid onto her fingers. Then she flicked her hand at the fire and returned back to his bed side, a globe of purple following her, a captured flame swirling inside it. It lowered until it settled on his table and he stared at it dreamily as it flickered.
"Talk to Gary and Raoul... and Myles, if they want to see me, I'll be back in three days," she kissed him softly on the forehead and then his eyelids fluttered and he fell into a dreamless sleep.
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Groaning, George lurched to his feet and dashed for the chamber pot, his stomach protesting. After a good moment retching he straightened and immediately regretted it as the room spun alarmingly. Cursing himself he stumbled back to his bed and frowned, there was a vial on his table, a piece of parchment peaking beneath it. Next to that gleamed a frozen flame and he stiffened as the nights memory flooded his mind. He remembered Solom telling him a man was in his room, and then he remembered helping himself to his stores of brandy before passing out on the chair.
He rubbed his head, there were other flashes, red and purple and black, but that was all. Swearing to never drink again he reached for the vial, and took the note in his other hand.
George,
I hope your sleep was well, considering how much you drank in a short space of time I would think even the God's yelling in your ear wouldn't wake you. A rogue sneaking into your rooms certainly wouldn't so I spelled your room, as I told you last night, though I doubt you remember. You were safe for the night, and until noon so I hope you wake up by then, if not...
The vial is a new potion of mine, an even better hangover remedy.
Remember, if Gary, Raoul and Myles want to see me, I'll be back in three nights,
Alanna
George blinked and re-read it before a gave a yell of joy and danced around the room before groaning and clutching his head, regretting his impulsive action as his stomach protested and reached for the potion. The bottle was a work of art, expensive to his experienced eye, and had obviously cost a small fortune. Twisting the jewelled cap his senses were immediately overwhelmed and he sneezed furiously as his eyes began to water.
Taking a deep breath he brought the vial to his lips and swallowed, gasping as it burned his throat. Wincing at the taste he resumed his appraisal of the vial. It was now empty, there wasn't even a drop of liquid left and the surface of the vial had turned transparent. Tapping it with his nail he frowned, it looked like diamond. The cap was etched with gold and a large ruby adorned it, gold leaves were etched along the rim and a golden flame hugged the bottle neck.
Frowning, George tucked the bottle into his tunic, certain it couldn't be real but hesitant in case it was, and rose to his feet cautiously. The stampeding in his head had dulled into an ache that was easily bearable and he grinned, Alanna was alive!
He snatched the note and tucked it into one of his hidden pockets and made sure his blades were within reach.
Slipping from his room he exited through the window and landed softly, whistling he made his way from the Dove towards the Palace; stopping only to rinse his face in the fountain and to buy honey cakes.
A gold coin at the gate gave him entry into the Palace grounds and he whistled as he made his way towards the stables, his hands in his pockets. Where he anywhere but the Palace he wouldn't adopt such a carefree air, but his rule wasn't threatened on Royal grounds. Entering the stable he gave a secret whistle and made his way through the rows of restless horses, searching for one in particular.
Stephan, who was grooming a fine grey stallion, stabled the mount and made his way to George.
"Where's Moonlight?" He asked his man after greetings were exchanged.
Stephan eyed him cautiously before answering, "Sir Myles had her taken to Olau, the Crown sought to purchase her because of Alan's banishment, but Myles told them she had been gifted to him, so she was safe."
George absently rubbed the nose of a friendly bay, which nosed his pockets in search of treats, as he thought.
"Can you find a way to get Raoul, Gary and Myles to my mother's as soon as they can make it?"
Stephan nodded and looked George over, "You're look'n better, Majesty."
George allowed a smile to dawn across his features, before clasping the groom and leaving. Stephan watched the King of Thieves leave, wondering at the loss of mind that disabled him from using messenger birds for such a small message. Something must have happened, and he would guess it had something to do with the banished Squire.
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George examined Gary, Raoul and Myles as they sat around the table in his mother's house. Elain herself was serving tea and freshly baked bread was cooling on the windowsill.
Gary's brown eyes had lost some of their laughter in the past two years and he had withdrawn from most social events, even the presence of a new Lady had done little to boost his spirits. Giant Raoul was barely better, he rarely went to events, and only orders from his sovereign had compelled him to attend, he preferred to drown his sorrows within a wine glass and bed-mates. Sir Myles was in better control of himself, though he too would veer from social events and his free smile was less frequent.
Each of them mourned the loss of their friend, and each of them coped in different ways. But today that was going to change.
Reaching into his tunic he withdrew the vial and watched as his guests leaned in. Myles was the first to reach for it and George handed it to him. Myles observed the gold etching on the diamond and the ruby before turning it upside down. When he did he froze, Gary and Raoul also stiffened when they leaned in. George frowned, he hadn't thought to look on the bottom, and asked for the vial back. Turning it he blinked in surprise before grinning, there etched in the same gold was an inscription and a symbol.
It swirled in magic to his Sight, so strong that he wondered how he had never noticed it earlier.
The symbol was that of a great gold cat rearing forward, claws extended and mouth open in roar, along the edge of the symbol in flowing script was the words, Alanna: The Lioness.
George lowered the vial and withdrew the parchment, smiling at his companion's wonderstruck expressions as they morphed into joy.
"I found a stranger in my room last night," he began with a smile and leaned forward, "after a moment he revealed himself to be a she."
Myles, Gary and Raoul beamed as they understood where this was going.
"She said she would be back in three nights time, if you wanted to see her," George leaned back and took a sip of his tea while his friends processed what he told them.
"Yes, of course," Myles answered immediately for all of them. "Of course we want to see her."
George nodded but frowned when Myles' face fell.
"But isn't she in Tahaken?"
George's eyes narrowed and he straightened. Gary and Raoul made the sign against evil across their chests, Myles restrained himself.
"I don't know, I drunk a bit and we didn't talk, but she kept saying it was okay, I think," George glanced at his mother's disapproving face before looking back to the Knights.
"She will meet us in the Royal Forest, two hours into the morning in three days time. I'm not sure where, I guess we all get together and she finds us."
Myles nodded, "Okay. So we have to go into the forest for a few hours. I can manage that."
Gary glanced to Raoul before looking at the Rogue, "We will be there, we can skip the ball and sneak out."
Raoul nodded, "It will be good to see her."
George, Gary, Raoul and Myles said farewell to Elain and went about their day, as they did a figure materialised before the hearth and gazed after the Knights and King of Thieves with an unreadable expression.
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Gary glanced across the ballroom at a strangely sober Raoul and jerked his head slightly to the door, it was a few hours past midnight and in the distance a bell chimed to signal the change of guard.
Myles had already retired, as had the older generations, though the Royal family were still in attendance, along with their closest friends. Duke Roger was charming a group of young ambassadors and Prince Jonathan was dancing neatly with a foreign princess, one who looked set to become his wife.
Raoul was on edge, glancing between the clock and Gary frequently and impatiently waiting for the time to leave. As Gary caught his eyes, he grinned and left the room, unbeknownst of the set of eyes waiting him curiously. When Gary followed Raoul the same set of eyes narrowed in suspicion.
They met at the stable, after changing into suitable attire and after checking the coast was clear, entered the Royal Forest. A figure lurking in the shadows silently followed the Knights, knowing their noises would cover their own tracks and allow them a path to follow.
They emerged at the decided place, a small meadow sloping down into a bubbling stream, and found a round Knight already waiting, with some food in a basket.
The elder Knight greeted them warmly and settled comfortably beneath a large oak tree, gesturing for the young men to do the same. The stalker slunk around the undergrowth until he found a comfortable spot where he could view all, and settled down to wait, pulling his cloak tighter against the moist air.
A soft noise echoed from the forest and another man slunk over to them, carrying several bottles of liquid. The Knights greeted him enthusiastically before inviting him to join them, the figure frowned, he couldn't hear any spoken words because of the small waterfall. After consideration he realised that this was why this spot had been chosen, if anyone had been followed their conversation would not be overheard.
Cursing softly he surveyed the area. The tree line was dark and forbidding at this time of night, and a mist was rolling softly across the flattened grass towards him. Moonlight filtered through the manacles of clouds and some stars gleamed, providing enough light to see by. Above the small waterfall there was a smooth flat rock, a dark colouring on it catching his eye as the moonlight was practically lighting the area up. Continuing his scanning he looked along the stream until it vanished into the forest when something in the corner of his eye caught his attention.
A cloaked figure was standing on the rock watching the unsuspecting Knights as they gazed about them at the mist, and talked in hushed whispers.
Suddenly one of the Knights stood, he had seen the figure. The figure leapt from the rock, mist pooling around their ankles to their mid-thigh, and walked steadily towards the rising men. Goosebumps rose along his arms and the back of his neck as the stranger walked, for the mist steadily withdrew from its breech of the forest and dispersed across the grass, heading for the arrival.
The shortest man, hurried towards the figure and after a moment's hesitation hugged them tightly, the other Knights followed.
Frowning, the man in the forest moved around the edge, deciding to get closer to the gathering as they settled down and began to talk. The stranger flicked their wrist and a fire materialised around them, baring the cold.
He shifted uncomfortably as the night wore on, longing for the fires warmth and there was an occasional loud laugh and more undecipherable voices. The cold was seeping into his body when the wind changed, and blew his drenched clothes against his skin. Shivering he wished he had thought to bring something to eat or drink and prayed the Knights would hurry.
Several minutes later, when he was deciding to sneak away and have a hot bath, the group stood. And goodbyes were exchanged along with hugs, finally he thought, he would be able to get away.
The mist began to roll in, as it had over an hour and a half ago, cloaking the meadow and the fire dimed and died. Suddenly the woods went silent, not like the silence when a predator was feasting after a hunt, but like the noise had lowered. He slowly forced his frozen body to stand, goose bumps breaking out over all of his skin as the waterfall suddenly froze.
"It's been good to see you all, "he heard the guest say as they looked at the assembled men.
And then he stiffened as they looked straight to where he was hiding and bowed slightly, "You also, Your Grace. Though I doubt your wife will be pleased you are out so late and in the cold."
They offered an arm in beckoning and Gary, Raoul and the two other men started in surprise. Some power settled across his skin and Duke Gareth found himself emerging from the shadows and stumbling wearily over to the gathering. Gary blanched as he saw the state of his father and went to remove his cloak; he was halted by a gloved hand on his shoulder. The Duke of Naxen halted before the group and realised who they were, he nodded to The King Of Thieves and also to Sir Myles.
"Your over-heard us, father?" Gary asked concernedly, recalling when he and Raoul had been interrupted by the Duke discussing meeting a stranger in the forest.
The Duke nodded, shivering and unable to speak through the chattering of his teeth. The stranger once again halted Gary from assisting his father and moved closer to the Duke. With a graceful move they removed their own cloak and draped it across the Lord's shuddering shoulders. Almost immediately he felt warmth flood his body and his exhaustion slumber. The cloak was warm and soft, black velvet clasped with a silver broach, in the shape of a dragon.
Looking up from his appraisal of the cloak he stiffened, purple eyes gazed levelly back at him.
"Alan-na?" he mouthed, in absolute shock. The Knights and George beamed and Alanna inclined her head slightly before focusing on him and he forced himself to return her gaze even though it felt like her eyes were peering into his soul. He shivered as the moment passed and she nodded slightly.
A bottle rose from the ground and hovered at waist level before the Training Master. Thankfully he took the bottle and bought it to his lips.
"You may keep that for my return," Alanna told him as she glanced up at the moon.
"How will we know when you are coming back, and where do we meet?" George asked eagerly and ran his hands along his arms to banish the cold. Alanna thought for a moment, her brow creased in thought, then she flicked her wrist. Five globes formed around the mist gathering at their feet and rose slowly, tinged with purple. Alanna cupped each within her palms and whispered into them. Then she handed the globes to Gary, Raoul, George, Myles and one to Duke Gareth.
"Where do you want to meet?" She asked looking into each of their faces, "I would rather it be one place each time; it saves me...effort..."
The Knight's and George discussed this and after a moment decided on an unused storage room in the palace as it would be easier for George to come to them, than all of them to go to him. Duke Gareth also agreed to help George enter and exit the Palace on the condition he did not abuse that help.
George frowned at him but then took the comment on good grace.
Alanna glanced at the moon once more before nodding, "Keep those globes on you at all times, and do not let anyone else touch them for an extended period of time." Purple eyes focused on each man until they nodded and agreed and then she continued, "When I am coming, the globes will heat and will make a soft chiming noise that only you can hear."
She inclined her head a final time and then pivoted and strode back into the mist, Raoul waited a moment and then ran after her. When the mist cleared they were alone in the clearing and water was cascading over the waterfall.
The men glanced at each other in shock, wondering what else Alanna could do, but each returned to their bed that morning with the general consensus that Alanna was a very accomplished Mage.
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Duke Gareth shifted uncomfortably in his seat as the Prince and his bride danced in the centre of the room. Jonathan looked happy, well, happier than he had been in a long time and the Nobles approved of the match so the King was pleased. His sister, however, was another matter entirely.
Queen Lianne watched her dancing son and daughter-in-law with a masked expression of happiness, though the Lord of Naxen knew this was not the case. While the Crown Prince looked happier than he had in months, if not years, he had become skilled at disguising his depression. Lianne knew this, she also knew that her husband, King Roald, had been putting pressure on his heir since he had lost his friend and become an alcoholic.
Next to him his wife touched his arm and he withdrew his attention from the newly-weds and met Lady Roanna's hesitant hazel eyes.
"Love, your ring is glowing," she told him softly. Duke Gareth blinked and glanced to his finger, he had had a craftsman set the globe into gold so that he could wear it, and have it touching his skin, at all times. He winced as he saw his wife was indeed correct, and felt the familiar tingling of warmth spreading from his fingers throughout his body.
He quickly hid his hand beneath the table and allowed a thread of his Gift to touch the globe, it stilled immediately and resumed its normal colour and temperature. His wife looked at him concerned as he glanced around him, and he noticed a slight hesitance in her gaze.
He smiled at her softly and kissed her hand as he stood, "Its only business, but I cannot tell you."
Lady Roanna's chestnut head inclined and she grasped his hand for a moment before releasing it, "I will see you tonight," she promised.
The Lord nodded and quickly excused himself, knowing he would probably be first to Alanna as Raoul and his son were fending off young Ladies.
He quickly strode down the various halls and corridors until he reached the door he was looking for. Pressing his globe to the frame, the door swung on its hinges and he stepped into the room and froze.
Alanna was standing next to the hearth and was tossing scraps of cloth into the fireplace. A small puddle of blood was forming on the floorboards and she looked up from her torso to the Duke and waved in greeting. Her hand was dripping in blood and the Duke hurried towards her before politely looking away as she removed the tattered remains of her shirt.
"Would it be too much trouble to ask you to get some cloth? I need to bind myself."
Gareth of Naxen looked back to the woman and stared, deep gorges covered her back, stretching from her right shoulder and swallowing near the opposite hip. She had been attacked by something with claws and had spun away as it ripped down her back. A tattered bit of black cloth covered her breasts and matched the cloth covering her lower body. Her leggings lay discarded and ripped on the floor. The Duke nodded and fled, deciding to get Duke Baird to help the wounded warrior.
He passed Raoul as he made his way to the room and warned him of what he was to see before hurriedly making for the chief healer.
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Queen Lianne watched with interest as a flustered looking Duke of Naxen entered the ballroom, which he had left several minutes before hand, and made his way to hover behind a man with red hair and green eyes. The chief Healer turned and her brother leaned down to speak into his ear. Duke Baird abruptly stood and excused himself from his circle and followed the other Duke from the room, using the same exit as Gareth, Raoul and Gary had already used.
Eyes narrowing in thought the Queen slipped away, ignoring the stirrings of gossip that followed both men. She had noticed several things, since her return to full health, and was aware the loss of Squire "Alan" had hit many men hard, but Gary, Raoul and Myles seemed hit hardest, along with her son. She also noticed that several months back Gary, Raoul and Myles had returned from a city trip looking extremely happy. The mystery had increased when they left a ball almost simultaneously and had been followed by a suspicious looking Lord of Naxen.
A change had come over all men immediately. Lord Gareth had walked with a spring in his step, Myles laughed often and Gary and Raoul had quit sulking and were almost overbearingly happy.
Their happiness increased at random patterns throughout the months and she was certain she was not the only one to notice, Lady Roanna had become almost distant during their teas and Lianne was hesitant to ask the reason.
Shaking away her thoughts, the Queen followed the retreating footsteps of both men and strained to hear hushed whispers. They made for the Healer's Wing and returned almost immediately with bundles of cloth and jars of healing formula. Lianne swiftly ducked down a corridor and was certain that they would have seen her if they weren't so focused.
Frowning in annoyance at her folly, here she was hiding within her own home, she discretely followed them. Duke Gareth led the way through the halls until he came to an old door off a long forgotten corridor. He pressed his fist to the door and it swung open immediately and both Duke's vanished inside. Queen Lianne began to run; she didn't want the door to close on her, thankfully it didn't and she peered into the doorway.
Gary and Raoul were standing against a wall, along with a hazel-eyed man, and were watching as the Duke's swarmed around a figure by the fire. Crimson splatters were across the floorboards and shreds of fabric littered in and near the fire.
At her gasp all occupants turned and looked like guilty children. Duke Baird nodded to her and continued with his healing; ignoring the woman's fending and proclaims she would be fine. Duke Gareth blinked at her sheepishly and then turned back to Alanna, for it was Alanna she now realised.
Crimson gashes wept across her golden skin and scars glinted silver in the light, her hair hung free but contained over her left shoulder, where there was only harsh bruising. Her arms where muscled though scattered between scratches and cuts, of various length and depth, were bruises. Along her legs were stab wounds and scratches and cerise snaked along her skin to pool on the floor. Amethyst eyes met hers briefly and she inclined her head slightly before shifting as one of the men brushed against a sensitive spot.
A panting interrupted her appraisal and a flustered Sir Myles arrived, edging in behind her. He stiffened as he saw Alanna and covered his shock by grinning, "Still the champion, Lioness?"
Alanna returned the smile, flashing perfect teeth, "Of course, though they came close to my title today."
Seeing their questioning looks she elaborated, "Decided to take me all at once, and we had a few dozen big cats in the arena with us. It was a shame to kill such magnificent beasts, but I have a reputation to uphold."
She grabbed the Healers hand as emerald gathered at his fingers, "No. It is not permitted, natural remedies only." The Duke blinked at her in horror and looked at her injuries again before raising a brow.
Alanna shrugged and took the salve from the Training Master before generously applying it to her skin. "We, who enter the arena, are not permitted to be healed by Magic, not that it would matter."
"Why wouldn't it matter? George asked as he watched her worriedly.
"It would take an extremely powerful Healer to get any spells to stick, and it tickles." She flicked her hand at the cloth and it rose to settle across her legs and tightened into jodhpurs. Flexing her hands she muttered in an unfamiliar language and the air turned cold. Moisture gathered at their breath and trickled forward to form a flat surface. When there was a puddle of water she barked a word and the water slowly turned transparent and then frosted. The other occupants in the room shifted nervously at such a display of magic and waited to see what would happen.
The temperature of the room began to increase until it was normal temperature and as it did so the rectangle of frosted glass defrosted, leaving pure mirror in its place.
Alanna ignored their gasps and walked closer to it before turning her torso around, to view her back. When she saw the wounds she frowned in annoyance and murmured once more. A small bag came zooming through the open door and a large needle and some thread rose from the bag. Alanna took the needle as the thread began to unroll and began to stitch the greater of the wounds.
Duke Baird recovered and took a few steps forward, to take the needle from her hands. She nodded her thanks and closed her eyes as the Healer began to stitch her wounds.
"Have they decided a name?" Gary broke the silence after a while and Lianne blinked. She was being ignored!
"For?" Alanna seemed distant as she answered.
Raoul glanced to the Queen before continuing where Gary left, "The tournament?"
"Unofficial it is called the "The Lives of Death"".
Lianne glared, "Would someone please explain to me what is going on and why you are here covered in blood!"
George shifted, ready to bolt and the Knights all looked sheepish. Alanna slowly opened her eyes and focused them directly on the Queen through the mirror.
"What, exactly, do you want to know?"
Queen Lianne glared at her and snapped, "I just told you what I wanted to know!"
Alanna's eyes narrowed and Duke Gareth moved closer to the Queen, "Be specific. You wanted to know what is going on, I believe it is fairly obvious," Alanna hissed softly, "I am currently having my wounds stitched by Duke Baird and you, Sir Myles, Gary, George, Raoul and Duke Gareth are watching."
The nobles flinched at her tone, though they remained silent as Alanna glared at Her Majesty.
Lianne took a deep breath and released it slowly, refusing to flinch away from Alanna's gaze.
"Very well, how did you get those wounds," she asked her voice hard.
Alanna gazed at her for a moment before sighing and clapping her hands together suddenly and booming a foreign word. The room began to shake and thunder began to boom, all eyes were on Alanna as she began to chant and then she vanished. Lianne, George, Gary, Baird, Gareth and Myles all blanched as they suddenly began to dissolve, in the distance, like thousands of wasps, the sound of a crowd could be heard.
Author's Note:
Hi guys, sorry it's been so long. I recently went on holiday and then I had to catch up on all my school work. But here it is, originally this and the next chapter where one long one, but when I reached 20ish pages and realised I still had a lot to write I split it down the middle.
Also * ** those are susposed to be between every break. Word does not format it into , so I have to do it manually, even then it sometimes doesn't work :( Bare with me and Ill sort it or change the page breaks :D
Ame Kage: Welcome. Im glad you like it :D
Alianne: Thank you. I hope what you just read clears your question up. If not- only she aged faster, time is different in Tahaken and so is the power they have- Alanna didn't age simply because The Master didn't want her to. She only had an illusion over her and while she lived those years, she didn't change at all.
TheOrchid: I'm glad someone finally sees what I do! The fic's I loved have all been abandoned and its depressing! Love is depressing...
NigerUnda: Yup, sorting it(or trying to)
Fang: xoxox. Nuff said :D
Edit: so the *** and the ~~~ dont work, now we will try xxxx