Greetings readers!
Those of you who have been reading my Dragon's Blood Ascension project will know that I've spent a fair bit of time dabbling with the characters' backstories. Somewhere along the way, I ended up with more stuff than I could hope to use, lest I overload the stories with flashbacks.
So I have decided to put them here. All of these stories are set before Bound In Blood (for reference, I will put how long ago they occurred), so there shouldn't be many spoilers. There's also not really much point to this beyond expanding the backstories of the characters, whether they appeared in the series or are original characters, so don't expect it to really go anywhere fast. Nevertheless, feedback would be much appreciated.
For the first two chapters, I know that those of you who have read up to a certain point in Bound In Blood will already be familiar with this event, but I decided to tell it from different perspectives…
The Misunderstanding
Marci
Seven years before the Bloody Dance…
'That one there,' Marci followed the direction of Mirana's finger, noticing the brightly gleaming scales through the gently rippling water. 'That one is a goldfish. Mother had them imported a month ago.'
Marci watched the fish as it moved closer, one amongst a multitude of others. She'd felt embarrassed to be caught staring at them by Mirana, but the Princess seemed content, even glad, to humour her curiosity.
The truth was that Marci had never actually seen a live fish before, just the rare dead one. None of the canals had run through the Old District, and she'd never been brave enough to risk going down to the docks. Only her father and a couple of her brothers had been down there, and if they'd managed to find work they had occasionally brought something from the traders back home to eat.
The goldfish undulated close to her, gawping comically, as if it expected something of her. Marci couldn't help but admire the hue of its bright scales, and its motions were oddly relaxing, almost hypnotic.
She was aware of Mirana watching her.
She'd heard a few of the servants whisper that Mirana treated her almost as one would an exotic pet. She was an oddity. A freak.
But it wasn't like that at all. Mirana just wanted to help her. She genuinely cared about her. Amongst other things, she had been helping Marci to devise a new way to communicate.
The palace physicians had made it clear weeks ago that there was nothing more they could do for Marci. Even magic could not restore her voice.
She was mute for life now, only able to whistle. But Mirana was still determined to give her a way to speak. She had even been going to the trouble of teaching Marci how to read and write, something she had never expected to learn in the slums.
'How should we say "fish"?' Mirana asked. They had been working on new signs for Marci when she had become distracted by the fish ponds. It was Mirana who had struck upon the idea of Marci using her hands to communicate, since she had so often resorted to miming.
Marci glanced down at the fish, noting the way they moved. She lifted her hand and waggled it back and forth, like a fish swimming.
Mirana chuckled. 'That's good!' Marci smiled with her. 'How would you say "swim"?'
That was a trickier question. The simple fact of the matter was that Marci had no idea how, because she could not swim. It wasn't as if it was necessary to survive in the slums.
There was more to it in Marci's case, and she felt ashamed. Trying not to look embarrassed, she shrugged, lifting both hands, palm up, to her sides.
'Like this?' Mirana lifted her hand and mimed paddling with her fingers.
Marci shrugged. Feeling stupid, she copied Mirana's suggestion, pointed at herself, and then shook her head.
'You can't swim?' Mirana guessed.
Marci shook her head. Despite the kindness Mirana had shown her, she still expected the Princess to laugh at her. It would probably drive her to hysteria if she learned how scared Marci was of water.
But Mirana's expression remained soft and understanding. She did not laugh. 'I could teach you. Would you like that?'
Teach her? Marci nearly balked at the idea. Nearly.
The mere idea of going anywhere near deep water was enough to make her shudder. She'd heard too many tales of dockworkers falling into the canals, their bodies plucked out by the guards—if only to avoid fouling the waterways and scaring higher class citizens.
Marci's imagination feverishly struck at her. She saw herself sinking helplessly, unable to save herself. Just like…
But Mirana would be there. She would look after her. She would help her. If nothing else, she trusted Mirana.
Marci bit her lip and nodded.
Mirana smiled at her, obviously picking up on her unease. 'It'll be fun. You'll see.'
Marci had her doubts. Somebody like Mirana, well educated, intelligent, privileged, might be comfortable around water. Marci didn't know if splashing in a panic, thrashing ineptly and drowning counted as "fun".
But she did trust Mirana. The Princess had gone out of her way to help her thus far, and she had not needed to. How much easier would it have been for her to have a handmaiden who could talk? She'd even had to teach Marci much of what she needed to do as a handmaiden. Most of Mirana's previous handmaidens were from noble families, never had a member of the royal family wanted a mere slum-rat to serve them so closely.
Mirana stood up, smoothing her dress free of wrinkles. As expected, Marci stood too. She was keenly aware of what was expected of her, and though Mirana had accepted her, she knew that for some in the palace her presence was unwelcome. If she did anything wrong, they would try to have her thrown out, along with the rest of her family.
Mirana held up her hand. 'You can stay here if you want, I'll be back.'
Marci relaxed a little. Though it was early days for her as Mirana's handmaiden, the Princess had yet to give her a direct order. She always asked. Some other servants whispered that Mirana was bossy and spoilt, demanding and prone to throwing tantrums. Marci did not believe them.
'I found a new book for you, but I forgot to bring it with me.' Mirana admitted. 'I'll see if I can find some bread too, we can feed the fish.'
Marci smiled. That would be a nice way to pass the time. Mirana returned her smile and set off, leaving Marci to take her seat again.
Marci looked round at the looming edifice which was the palace. From the slums, it had been a little less imposing, if only because it was further away.
But it was impossible to miss. It towered over everything in Rasolir, and was visible over the city walls.
Mirana had told her that it had once been a pyramid. But expansions and modifications over the years had altered its shape slightly. The outer walls still sloped, but were more sheer, with numerous balconies and windows. Unlike the other old Imperium pyramids, the Rasolir palace had a flat top, a glass roof, the better for catching sunlight.
Marci could remember the first time she had looked up at it from this close. It had been intimidating, making her feel tiny and insignificant. It was almost a city district, a big one, in of itself. Though Mirana had spent the first few days showing her around, there were still areas they had not seen together. It was just as well that she followed Mirana around so often, for she was certain that she would have been hopelessly lost without her.
As for the room she had been given, it was small by the standards of the royal family, but it was a little bigger than the hovel Marci had once called home. Mirana's room, next door to hers, was twice as large.
Not that Marci was envious. She was glad to be here, knowing that she and her family members had better futures ahead of them. Life in the slums was often short and uncertain. Here, it was comfortable.
Marci started to watch the fish again. She heard the clanking of steel plate as two members of the Sun Guard wandered past, on one of their seemingly endless patrols again. They seemed to pay her no mind, but Marci noticed their eyes dart towards her, hover on her for a moment, then flit away. They were extremely vigilant, and a little intimidating.
Kashurra had assured her that the Sun Guard were here to protect the royal family, and by extension the palace and the people within. They were the finest warriors in the Helio Imperium. So far, the only one Marci knew in any way was Garrisan, the Commander of the Sun Guard. He'd had little to say, just telling her to be vigilant herself. A serious man, like most of his fellows.
Perhaps it would be a good thing if Mirana could teach her how to swim, she mused as she watched the fish gathering close to her—no doubt expecting food. Maybe if she could overcome one problem, she could deal with others. And as scary as the idea was, Mirana would look after her.
Marci heard footsteps behind her, forceful and impatient. Not Mirana.
Marci stood nevertheless. Like any palace servant, she had to be polite to those above her.
Approaching her was a tall, lean man in rich finery. He had a sharp, pointed face with a narrow, short beard. His dark hair fell to his shoulders and he was peering at her with flinty grey eyes. He was plainly annoyed about something, his features drawn into a scowl.
She knew him, didn't she?
Marci noticed the vague resemblance and remembered who he was. He was Mirana's uncle. What was his name? Shabarra! That was it!
Marci dipped into a curtsy, as expected. She forgot to avert her eyes when she rose though. Mirana never asked her to do so—she didn't even ask her to curtsy for her—and a few others, like Kashurra, were of the same mind.
Shabarra's eyes narrowed. Marci shifted nervously and glanced away for a moment. In the same moment, she recalled a time when she would not have looked away, when she would have stared boldly back, unafraid.
She was just being deferential. That was what she told herself, recalling one of the newer words Mirana had taught her.
'What are you doing here, servant? Shouldn't you be working?'
Marci dithered, uncertain of what to do. Mirana had only introduced her to the man in passing. Shabarra had been in a hurry for something, and evidently he did not remember her.
Still, he was Mirana's uncle. They talked, didn't they?
Marci decided to risk resorting to the signs she and Mirana had been working on. She indicated herself, then pointed at the ground with three fingers together. I'm waiting here.
'I asked you a question, girl.'
Marci repeated the gesture more slowly, adding a couple of flute-like whistles at the end—her way of saying Mirana's name. I'm waiting for Mirana.
Shabarra glowered at her. 'Are you stupid or insolent? Answer the question properly, girl!'
This wasn't good. Marci was certain that Mirana would have told her uncle about her. Her parents knew. Even if Mirana hadn't mentioned her muteness, Marci found it hard to believe that rumours hadn't spread through the palace. The servants and guards were well known for gossiping. Surely it had to be common knowledge that Mirana had a mute handmaiden by now?
Uncertain, Marci tapped her throat and shook her head. She tried to look apologetic at the same time.
Shabarra scowled and stepped closer.
Before, Marci would have stood her ground. She knew that she was much stronger than she appeared to be, and had been hard to intimidate as a result. It wouldn't have mattered that Shabarra was older and taller than her.
But her instincts had long since changed to flight rather than fight. She took a step back, her legs bumping into the bench.
'Not only are you obviously being idle when you should be serving your betters, you are being disrespectful!' Shabarra snapped. 'I'll ask you one more time: why are you out here when you should be working?'
Marci had started to shake. The way he towered over her reminded her of…
No. No, she could not think about that now. If she did, she would fall apart. She had to remain calm.
Taking in a breath which failed to calm her, Marci started to gesticulate, trying to make the signs as obvious as possible, even outright miming. She kept using the whistle for Mirana to try to explain that she was Mirana's handmaiden, that she was just waiting for her to return.
Shabarra's nostrils flared, his face turning red with unrestrained anger. 'I've had enough of this! Come with me. I'm taking you to the Chamberlain.'
He was going to report her! He was going to have her thrown out, and her family would be sent back to the slums too!
Marci started to panic, almost flailing now, even though it was obvious that Shabarra had no idea what she was trying to say. Where was Mirana? She couldn't have gone far.
Desperate, Marci whistled loudly for Mirana. She looked round wildly, hoping that Mirana would hear her.
'Stop bloody whistling!'
Marci had fast reactions, but she happened to be looking away when he raised his arm. She only saw his hand rushing towards her at the last moment. Shabarra's palm struck her sharply.
Marci stumbled, her cheek stinging, her eyes watering.
As always, her first instinct was to retaliate. Anger flared, but the fear swiftly overtook it. Ever since that day, the fear had been ever-present, her nightmares a constant reminder of what happened when she fought back.
For a moment, she did not see him. Instead, she saw a hulking figure looming over her, his eyes full of terrible intent, wanting nothing more than to murder her.
She could smell blood. Hers.
"Freak!" she heard them yelling in her head again. "Demon-spawn! Kill it! Kill it!"
Instead of kicking or punching Shabarra, Marci instead turned and ran.
'Get back here!' Shabarra roared.
Marci ran, unable to stop herself from crying. Tears ran down her face as she ran, clutching her cheek. She knew where the library was, she could still catch Mirana. Or she could run back to Mirana's chambers and hope she came to find her.
There! She saw Mirana's long chestnut tresses first as she rounded the corner. Desperate, believing that Mirana was her only chance of safety, she hurried after her.
Mirana was walking slowly, content to take her time, believing that Marci was happy where she was. She heard somebody running and turned to see Marci heading straight towards her, obviously distraught.
Marci almost ran into her, but swerved and tried to hide behind her instead.
'Marci!' Mirana gasped. 'Marci, what's wrong? Why are you crying?'
Marci heard him coming for her. She tried to make herself smaller, too afraid to even think rationally. He would see her cowering behind Mirana.
A part of Marci still could not believe that she had become this: a frightened little girl terrified of anybody who raised their voice near her. She had been better than this. Once, she had been practically fearless.
Where had that got her? It had nearly gotten her killed. She had lost her voice.
They had given her a chance at a new life, because of Mirana's sympathy. Mirana had helped her. Mirana would protect her.
Once, she had been the protector. Now she was this. Pathetic and vulnerable.
'Girl!' Shabarra yelled. 'Move away from the Princess before I have you whipped! I'm not finished with you yet!'
If she had been capable of it, Marci would have screamed with terror.
'Uncle!' Mirana exclaimed, shielding Marci. 'Please stop shouting. What's happened? Why is Marci upset?'
'Who?' Marci caught a glimpse of Shabarra. His face was contorted with fury and she shuddered with fear. 'You mean this servant?'
'Her name is Marci. I introduce you to her, didn't I?' Marci felt more than saw Mirana turn to her. 'Marci,' she almost flinched when Mirana's hand settled gently on her shoulder. 'It's all right, Marci. It's all right.' Her voice was soft and soothing, just like it was whenever Marci suffered one of her nightmares. 'You're safe. You're safe with me.'
Yes, yes she was. Even when she had been in the infirmary, Mirana had watched over her, keeping her company, staying by her side just to make her feel safe enough to sleep, even helping her to pass the time by teaching her how to read and write—something she couldn't even have dreamed of doing back in the slums. Mirana had not needed to do any of it. Marci imagined there must have been so many other things she could have been doing, better things, but she had wanted to help her.
'She's my handmaiden.' Mirana explained. 'Did something happen?'
'I found her gawping at the fish.' Shabarra announced. 'Obviously, she's been neglecting her duties if she found time to be idle.'
Despite knowing that Mirana had allowed her to stay in the gardens, Marci felt another cold surge of fear. Shabarra was Mirana's uncle. They had known each other for much longer than Marci had known Mirana. From what she had heard, they had gotten along well. If Shabarra wanted to have her dismissed, would Mirana agree?
'She wasn't neglecting anything.' Mirana said. 'I said that she could stay there. I just went to find a book for her.'
Shabarra frowned at her.
'I've been teaching her to read.'
Now Shabarra's expression was one of incredulity. Under the fear, Marci felt a small twinge of embarrassment, and inferiority. Both Mirana and Shabarra would be fully literate, taught from an early age. Marci was still stumbling over the basics, silently mouthing words clumsily, just capable of writing basic sentences as untidy scrawls.
'Your handmaiden cannot read?'
'She's learning.'
Yes, it was unusual. Most palace servants came from middle class families at the very least, and those who served royalty were usually from noble families. Shabarra's servants would all have been chosen from amongst the nobility, as had the handmaidens who had served Mirana before Marci. Marci was the first lowborn to serve in the palace for… nobody actually knew. She may have been the very first.
Judging from how angry Shabarra was, she would probably be the last. If they sent her away now, she would have lasted less than a month. She would be back in the slums, her muteness a handicap which would hold her back from all but the most basic of tasks. They would treat her like a simpleton. No man would want anything to do with her. She couldn't even face being out on the streets any more. She would be nothing more than a burden on her family, who had always struggled to scrape up enough food to survive.
She would have no future.
Mirana gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze before speaking to her uncle again. 'Uncle? Did you shout at her?'
'I asked her what she was supposed to be doing out here. She wouldn't answer or show me the proper respect.' She had tried. Would Mirana understand? 'She just waved her hands around like an idiot and started to whistle like some demented troubadour.'
'Uncle!' Mirana sighed.
Shabarra glared at Mirana. 'Don't take that tone with me, Mirana.'
Mirana looked no happier. Her voice was still smooth, but far less friendly now. 'You should know that Marci...' her tone softened as she glanced at Marci and whispered to her, 'Sorry, Marci,' before she resumed glaring at her uncle, 'You should know that she cannot speak as you and I can. She uses her hands and whistles to speak.'
Marci's hopes soared, though she continued to weep. Mirana was on her side!
'You've been given a half-wit for a servant? What was your father thinking?'
'Marci is not a half-wit!'
Shabarra raised his eyebrows. 'I beg to differ.'
Mirana clenched her jaw. 'You hit her, didn't you?'
'I told you—'
'How dare you? You shouldn't mistreat any of the servants, no matter their rank!' Marci stared at Mirana through her brimming eyes, her admiration for her swelling. That admiration only grew when she added, 'And you will not strike Marci or upset her again. Do you understand me?'
Shabarra's face flushed with hot blood. Marci averted her eyes, expecting him to explode with rage. If he attacked… she couldn't defend Mirana. She was too scared, too weak.
Once, she would have stood her ground to protect somebody under attack. But now the mere thought of a confrontation made her tremble with fear.
'I am your elder, girl!' Shabarra snapped. 'You would do well to remember that!'
'And I am the Princess, the future Empress of the Helio Imperium!' Mirana stood tall, her teeth gritted, completely unafraid of her uncle. Marci envied her for that, thinking that she might never find that kind of strength again. 'And you will know your place, Uncle.'
Marci felt Mirana's hands settle on her shoulders. Gentle pressure made her move forwards, out from behind the Princess' back. Out from behind Mirana's protection, glared at by the apoplectic Shabarra, Marci started to shake again.
Mirana glared fiercely at her uncle. 'You will apologise to Marci. Now.'
For a moment, Marci thought that Shabarra's eyes might pop out of his skull. 'I will not!'
'You will.' Mirana insisted forcefully. Her eyes were icy, her jaw set. Marci had never seen her so angry before. It was almost frightening, but she knew that Mirana was not angry with her. 'You will because I have commanded you to. Now apologise to Marci.'
Shabarra's hands balled into fists. Marci knew little of the intricacies of the royal family. What she did know was that Shabarra had been next in line for the Solar Throne, up until Mirana had been born. As expected, the Senate had voted to have Mirana named heir.
Though she was much younger than Shabarra, she held more authority than he did. But it wasn't that which was making her stand up to her uncle. She was doing it purely for Marci's sake. Marci realised that she had little to fear from him now. Mirana would never allow Shabarra to throw her back onto the streets.
Shabarra knew that he would not win this argument. Reluctantly, he decided to do as he was told. 'I am sorry...' he paused, looking to Mirana. Mirana mouthed at him, glaring. 'I am sorry, Marci. Forgive me.'
Marci trembled when his eyes settled on her. But Mirana's hands were warm and comforting, and she managed to nod.
'You will not strike any of the servants again.' Mirana said. 'Is that understood?'
Cowed, Shabarra did not argue. 'Yes, Princess.'
'Good,' Mirana lifted her chin, looking down her nose at him. 'Now get out of my sight.'
Still red with anger, no doubt aching to retort but unable to, Shabarra bowed, turned on his heel and flounced away.
Marci shuddered. She had not wanted to make enemies here. She was also overwhelmed by Mirana's devotion to her. She barely knew her in the grand scheme of things, yet she had chosen to defend her against her own uncle, the Prince and second in line for the throne no less. Her courage was…
Marci had been brave once, or so she had thought. She doubted that she could ever stand on her own again, not without Mirana.
Mirana wrapped her arms around Marci. Overcome, Marci burst into tears and buried her face into Mirana's shoulder, her long hair soft against her skin. She still didn't understand why Mirana cared for her so much. She was a Princess, and Marci was just an unlucky girl from the slums who couldn't even talk. The loss of her voice was her own fault.
What if this got Mirana into trouble? What would happen? Would she be punished?
'It's all right, Marci. It's all right.' Mirana whispered, her voice gentle and soothing once again. Marci found that she believed her. Nothing bad would happen. Mirana would protect her. 'I'm here for you. I always will be.'
Marci leaned against her, her shaking beginning to subside. Just knowing that eased her worries.
She wished that she could be half as brave as Mirana, or at least as brave as she herself had once been.
If Mirana was going to be there for her, she wanted to return the favour. She wanted to prove herself worthy as the Princess' handmaiden.
Despite Mirana's presence, Marci remained rattled for the rest of the day. The incident with Shabarra had provoked the fear which had threatened to overwhelm her ever since that fateful day.
After the attack, she had been afraid, terrified, just to leave the hovel her family called home. Once, she had fearlessly walked the streets, and nobody had dared to challenge her. She had been untouchable.
But then they had dared. She had paid the price for her arrogance. Marci had lost her confidence along with her voice, and she had come so very close to losing her life too.
Sometimes, she recalled the feeling. She remembered hovering between life and death, weakened from the loss of blood. She heard the voices around her, echoing and distant, telling somebody that her chances of survival were so minute it was hardly worth trying to save her, and even if they could, she would never be the same.
There had been an argument, an insistence that they ought to try to save her, no matter what it took, even if it meant magical intervention. Why did it matter that she was a slum-rat? Her life still meant something.
She had felt so tired. She had wanted to sleep so badly. The warmth of oblivion beckoned to her, a promise for the pain to end forever.
But she had been so scared. Too scared to give in. With the fear had come the desperate will to survive. She had fought back, fought just to stay awake and stay alive.
Her last fight. She doubted that she could ever fight again, literally or otherwise. It had nearly killed her last time, and she would never speak again because of her hubris.
When she thought about it like that, she felt unworthy of Mirana's concern. It was like she had been rewarded for her foolishness.
Some would not have thought of becoming a Princess' glorified servant as a reward, even if it was considered an honour amongst the noble families. But for somebody like Marci, born in the slums, her family rarely having more than two pennies to rub together, almost constantly hungry due to a lack of food, it was like stepping into another world—an unbelievable world. She even had her own room now. Before, she had shared an improvised mattress with her brothers and parents.
Marci could barely concentrate on the book Mirana had given her, even though it was a simple one. Mirana had given her the run of her chambers again, telling her that she would be back soon.
Mirana had left her alone from time-to-time. There were meetings and lessons Marci was not allowed to attend, though Mirana would have liked her to. She genuinely liked being in Marci's company, which still struck Marci as unusual. Back in the slums, the other children had been too scared of her to befriend her.
Mirana had never had any friends before Marci either, which Marci did not understand.
The knock on the door shook her from her musings. It was funny in a way. This was Mirana's room, she had no need to knock.
Marci humoured her anyway, whistling in response.
Mirana opened the door, balancing a tray with one hand. Marci felt another surge of guilt. She was supposed to serve Mirana, not the other way around.
Mirana sat down next to her and uncovered the tray. Marci's stomach growled as the scent of hot food wafted upwards. Unlike back in the slums, food was readily available here. Yet Marci still had quite the appetite. She was still almost constantly hungry.
Mirana held out the tray for her. 'I'm really sorry about what happened today, Marci. I shouldn't have left you alone.'
Marci shook her head. This wasn't Mirana's fault. She indicated the food, asking Mirana if she wanted to share.
'No, it's for you.' Mirana answered. 'But thanks for offering.'
Marci took up the cutlery and started to eat. Mirana chuckled, reached over and gently adjusted her grip on the spoon. She'd been trying to teach Marci basic table manners, amongst other things.
Marci smiled her thanks and continued to eat.
'I spoke to your parents.' Mirana said. 'They… they're a little worried.'
Marci looked round at her, the spoon between her lips.
'I'm sorry. I just wanted to assure them that I would look after you. They told me about… what it was like before, how you used to help the other children in the slums.'
Marci withdrew the spoon and lowered it, looking away. So now Mirana knew how her idiocy had cost her.
'I also spoke with Kashurra.'
Marci was a little surprised that Kashurra hadn't told Mirana more sooner. It had been his suggestion to make her the Princess' handmaiden, he was fully aware of her circumstances.
'You used to fight.'
Marci shifted guiltily. Her parents had always told her off for picking fights. They'd worried that her abnormal strength would get her into trouble.
How right they had been.
Mirana put her hand on Marci's shoulder. When Marci looked round at her, she was smiling at her. 'I think you were really brave. I've never hit anybody in my life. I don't think I ever could, even to protect somebody.'
Marci shook her head.
'That was different. My uncle wouldn't have dared to strike me, and he had no right to hurt you.' She sighed. 'I'm sorry that he did. I thought he knew about… I guess he wasn't listening. Anyway, I spoke to Kashurra and we were wondering if we could help you in some way.'
Marci stared at her, once again stunned by her desire to help her. She was just a foolish slum-rat, who might have gotten Mirana into trouble with her parents, but the Princess still wanted to help her—impossible as that seemed.
'According to your family and Kashurra, you used to be good at fighting.'
Marci looked away and shook her head. She had thought that she was. In the end, she had learned otherwise.
Mirana looked at her pityingly. 'I know why you're scared, Marci. But you don't have to be, not if we can help you, not if you don't want to be afraid.'
Marci wondered about that. Once, she had barely felt fear. Now it was always there, threatening to smother her at a moment's notice. Every night, there was a chance that the nightmares would plague her.
'I was wondering if you would like to be trained how to fight.'
Marci stared at her again. Surely she couldn't be serious?
'Kashurra thinks you might enjoy it. I think it might help you too. I doubt that Commander Garrisan will allow you to wield weapons, but amongst other things, the Sun Guard are taught how to fight unarmed. Kashurra seems certain that you'd be permitted to learn from Captain Hyses.' Mirana paused, studying Marci's expression. 'I think it would do you good, Marci, to know that you could defend yourself if you had to, better than before.'
Once, Marci had relished the opportunity to fight. Now though, the idea frightened her.
Mirana thought it might help though, so it was worth considering, maybe even trying. The confrontation with Shabarra came to mind again, him shouting at her, hitting her.
Mirana had protected her. But what if somebody did the same to her? Right now, Marci would be too scared to defend the Princess who had done so much for her. It wasn't right.
And what if somebody attacked Mirana? Somebody who could not be stopped with words alone?
Who would defend her? The Sun Guard were supposed to protect the royal family, but what if they couldn't for some reason?
Marci frowned down at her food, the food Mirana had not needed to give her, but had simply to make her feel better, because she was hungry so often, because she cared.
The old feeling stirred in Marci's heart as she thought about Mirana's offer, that desire to protect those who could not protect themselves.
Mirana had defended her. It was only fair that she be prepared to do the same for Mirana.
She had been a protector once. Maybe Mirana was right. Maybe it was time for her to be one again.
Marci looked back at Mirana and nodded once. If nothing else, she would do it for Mirana.
Mirana smiled and put her arm around Marci's shoulders. 'Good! Kashurra and I will take you to Captain Hyses tomorrow. Not every handmaiden gets to train with the Sun Guard. Come to think of it, you'll be the first girl to train with them!' She laughed. 'We're breaking all the rules, Marci!'
Marci laughed, or rather huffed with her.
'But don't think this means that I won't teach you how to swim.' Mirana warned her light-heartedly, still grinning. 'And punching me won't change my mind. I'll drag you in kicking and flailing if I have to.'
Marci huffed again. She wasn't being serious. Yes, the idea scared her, but she trusted Mirana. She just wanted to help her.
It would be good to stop being afraid.
Marci smiled at her.
'I'm glad. I'll let you eat now, whilst the food's still hot.'
Marci dug in again, feeling hopeful once again, just as she had done when they had told her that she was going to be Mirana's handmaiden.
They came for her again in her dream. Her nightmare.
Fear.
Pain.
Loss.
Change.
Marci usually slept heavily. It took some effort to wake her, and she always overslept. It was something which should have gotten her into trouble, for it was her job to wake Mirana and bring her breakfast. But it was the other way around for her, Mirana brought her breakfast instead.
Not that Mirana minded.
Food would wake her. So did the nightmares.
Marci did as she had then. She flailed, kicked and struggled to no avail. She would have screamed if she still had a voice.
When she had finally recovered enough to go home after the incident, her family had put together a separate improvised mattress for her. The nightmares always caused her to thrash in her sleep, and she'd broken a couple of noses by accident. Her unusual strength had become a danger to her own family.
Marci hit something this time: the floor. She'd struggled against her dream attackers so violently that she had fallen out of bed.
Her mouth opened in a silent yelp, her eyes flicking open. Her back throbbed where she had hit the floor.
Grimacing, Marci tried to sit up. With the nightmare came that feeling of vulnerability, of helplessness.
She hated being helpless, like she had been today.
Marci was still shaking when somebody knocked softly on her door. 'Marci?' It was Mirana's voice. She must have heard her fall out of bed. 'Are you all right?'
Marci whistled her response.
'Oh. Can I come in?'
She didn't need to ask. Marci appreciated her doing so anyway. She whistled again.
Mirana opened the door to see Marci sitting up, hugging her knees to her chest.
'Hey,' Mirana spoke softly, kneeling next to her and putting an arm around her shoulders. 'Here, let me help you up.'
Marci let her, still shaking. She was struggling to focus, partially stuck between waking and dreaming. It was more memory than anything else, but she could still smell the blood. Her own blood. She could still feel it, warm and sticky against her skin.
She still remembered dying. How it felt. How close she had been to death.
Marci lay down on the bed, guided gently by Mirana. It wasn't the first time Mirana had calmed her after a nightmare, nor would it be the last. It was just one more way Mirana tried to help her.
When she looked up at Mirana, she was surprised to see tears in her eyes.
'I'm sorry. It's just… what happened today reminded me of… me.' Mirana admitted quietly. 'Once I was not unlike my uncle. You must have heard what they've said about me, Marci, how terrible I was to my other handmaidens. You must have done.'
Marci had, but she hadn't believed the talk.
'It's true. Everything they said is true. But then I met you.' Mirana shook her head. 'I'd never… I'd never seen somebody in so much pain. I'd never known pity before.' She reached out and gently touched the back of Marci's hand, just like she had done before. Marci turned over her hand and entwined her fingers with Mirana's. 'I just wanted to help you, however I could. I still do. Because you helped me too.'
Marci raised her eyebrows.
'You opened my eyes.' Mirana explained. 'You wanted to be my friend when nobody else did, when I made everybody else hate me.' She wiped her eyes and smiled down at Marci. 'You saved me from myself. I would have ended up like Shabarra if it wasn't for you. I can never repay you for that, not truly, but I would like to try.'
Mirana had always been truthful with her, but Marci still found it hard to believe that she had ever been cruel or overbearing. Every mistake Marci had made in her service, she had forgiven. As for repaying her for simple friendship, Marci thought she was perhaps valuing her presence too highly. But she was grateful. Unspeakably grateful.
Even though it had taken the loss of her voice for her to meet Mirana, she was glad that they had met.
Watched over by Mirana, Marci started to drift off. She had no idea how long it was before the nightmare intruded again, before she felt, smelt and tasted her own blood again.
"Freak! Demon! Kill it! Kill it! Kill the freak!"
The voices clamoured in her head. She felt their hands seize her arms.
No. No, they were too gentle. Only two hands, soft and warm. The voices too, they weren't the same. There was only one, smooth and gentle. No shouts, no yells, just somebody singing sweetly to her, a lullaby lulling her back into blissful sleep.
Mirana was still watching over her, still protecting her.
If there was any way she could repay her, she would. She would learn to fight for her, a small price to pay to settle the debt.
Before she fell asleep again, she heard Mirana whispering softly to her once again.
'It's all right, Marci. It's all right. I'm here for you. I always will be.'
Yes. She would be.
Marci would always be there for her too.
Always.
And to follow, the same but from behind another pair of eyes, if nobody minds. Also, if anybody has any ideas for backstories they'd like to see explored here, feel free to let me know. I can't promise that it will happen, but I'd be inclined to try.
Until then, see you in the next update!