h-s-moonshadow

[h-s-moonshadow]

The Mystery of Healing: Story 2 - Part 4 (Finale)

“What are you doing here,” A feminine voice, asked coldly, like the biting winters wind. Kylantha didn’t know how long she’d been kneeling there trying to process what had happened to her flowers, but the question snapped her out of it. She had to answer after all.

“Something felt wrong.” She said in her soft voice, eyes afixed to the ground. “So terribly wrong. I needed to see what it was in case the Sylka Tyree need called. Especially since it was in the town hall.” She glanced up to see Nem and Kindwel.

They stared at her in disapproval. As if she were nothing. Well she was nothing so perhaps in this case they were right. After a moment it was Kindwel who spoke.

“How did you even get inside?” He asked with a scoff, hand falling to the dagger at his waist. “Are you the one we’re hunting?”

Nem reached out to grab Kindwel’s shoulder and laughed. It was not a particularly kind laugh Kylantha admited to herself. To harsh and fake. Kylantha had a sinking feeling that the laugh was about her.

She was quickly proven right, before she even had time to answer the questions owed her. “Kylantha? The threat we’re hunting? Be serious Kindwel.” Nem said with a scoff. “She’s probably only in here because she too is fey touched and Jin forgot about the fact that we had someone like her in this town.”

“I walked through the doors, and I’m not what you seek.” Kylantha said, still looking at the ground. “I did not realize that I should not enter the building.”

“Well that’s wonderful to know.” Nem’s voice was still icy cold. “Now leave, go bake your bread. Wait, no you’re not doing that anymore are you. Too ashamed to show your face in a public profession?”

Kylantha looked up. “No.” She answered, even as she tried to hide further in her cloak. Looking at Kindwel for any support. He did not know her, perhaps he would curb his partners-

“This is not a place for civilians. Especially not those who think themselves heros.” He said in a warm voice that contained no kindness. It was the type of voice you would use to lie to a child. “Get up and leave before the artifact we’re hunting huts you- got it K?”

She looked at him. And then nodded. He had asked her a question and she needed to respond. “Yes.” She paused then sighed looking down and pushing herself to her feet amongst a small waterfall of dust from her hair. She nearly shuddered to thinkn how long it would take to wash when she got back.

She turned to leave.

“Kylantha.” Nem's cold voice made her freeze. “Where are your flowers?”

She did not turn around. Being honest, and answering questions did not involve looking the people asking them in the eye. “They’ve gone. Whatever you’re hunting has drained the life out of the,” She said simply, before starting down the stairs.

“What do her flowers have to do with anything?” She heard Kindwel ask as she moved down the stairs to the first floor.

She needed to get back to her grandmother’s house, for her own sanity. She needed to find her rhythm of working on locks. Of cookling and cleaning. Something to get her mind off the interaction with Nem. It was hard to think of her by her full name when Nem was all Kylantha knew. Even if this Nem was a person that she had never met.

She reached the bottom of the staircase and looked out across the town hall. The feeling of wrongness had not left her, though after her talk with Nem and Kindwel she had started to ignore it a bit better.

Here however, looking over the empty ground floor of the town hall she could no longer ignore it. Something was deeply wrong and the longer that they stayed here, the longer something could go wrong. She could not help here.

She moved across the floor of roots to the main door and pushed.

It did not open.

She blinked, and pulled. Had she forgotten how the door worked? But no, she had not. The ornately grown oaken doors were held shut. She frowned and stepped backwards. Vaguely aware of the sound of two voices and footsteps passing behind her and fading away. Nem and Kindwel had gone downstairs.

She frowned to herself and focused on the door. What could possibly be keeping it shut? She knew that the door had two locks. One on the outside, accessed by a key that each and every one of the council members carried, and one on the inside that could only be locked using a key kept by the local captain of the guard.

The second lock was in case of raiders. It locked a special part of the door that could not be unlocked from the outside, proving a safe haven for those inside. With a frown, Kylantha knelt down and looked at the secondary lock, cursing herself slightly. Today of all days dhe did not bring her tools? On the day that the Sylka Tyree were planning a training exercise?

Pursing her lips she stood and walked away. She knew where to find tools in this building, not locksmith tools but tools that would do in a heartbeat should they be needed.

She made her way down to the basement, towards the offices. Her cloak flowed behind her and though she always stepped quietly, she was not stealthy. There was no reason to hide anymore, everyone in the building knew that she was here.

The basement with the offices was perhaps one of the most impressive places Kylantha had ever been able to travel too in the natrual world. Roots formed the walls, floors, and the ceiling. Making the entire area feel grounded. Doors grown from the roots themselves were blocking entrance to every office, yet none had locks.

She tilted her head and considered for a long moment. Then she steeled herself. She knew where to find what she needed. She vaguely wondered where the two hunters were, but the thought quickly passed out of her mind. The hallway was long and perhaps they were in the special council chambers.

It did not matter to her as she counted five doors down, and chose the one on the left. She gently pushed it open, and glanced around the office inside. One that smelled of baked goods, even if the smell was days old. She did not spare a thought for the deck, nor for any of the portraits on the walls, instead walking to a display case that held a pristine set of locksmith tools inside.

There was a lock on the outside of the glass case. Kylantha opted for the stone paperweight on the desk instead, that was inscribe with the office owner’s name.

The sound of crashing glass was followed by a scream. For a moment Kylantha froze, wondering if it was the loud shattering sound that had caused it. Then it happened again, though this time it sounded muffled.

Without a second thought she grabbed the tools from the shattered glass, and dashed out of the office towards the direction of the scream. If she had not been trying to be stealthy before now she was trying to be heard, running as fast as her feet would allow.

She reached the end of the hallway, and the special council chambers. Where when she stopped running, she could hear a commotion comming from inside. Before someone banged out he door and Nem’s voice could be heard,

“Jin! Jin! Help us!” She called. Despriate. “It got Kindwel! Get the door open!”

Kylantha blinked then tried the door. It was locked, predictably. She bit her lip, but no questions had been asked of her, so she knelt to unlock it, the door had been engineered to lock on both sides with a single key, that way it could also be used as a holding cell should it prove nessisary.

She lifted her tools and got to work, she heard commotion in the other room. And as she worked Nem’s calls grew more and more frantic. Thoughts of what she might find when she opens the door flooded her mind but Kylantha could not think about that. She simply had to finish her job.

The lock clicked. And she reached up pulling the door open to reveal the inner chamber. A room filled with the remnants of plush couches and chairs. With what remained of expensive wine bottles and lavish paintings. The room, once large and finished was now a nightmare with a large being made of decaying flowers in the center of it.

Kylantha’s mind kicked into gear, she knew about these she was sure and yet- she saw Nem right in front of her, rapier out as she pointed it at the creature in the middle of the room. A few feet in front of Nem Kindwel was laying, his chest barely moving with his breath.

Nem glanced at her. “Why are you here?”

“Front door was locked.”

“CAn you unlock it?”

“Yes.”

“Help me with Kin?”

“Yes.”

Their voices were calm. They spoke as if they’d been in situations like this before. Kylantha slotting herself back in as Nem’s partner. She took a breath and nodded.

Nem sheathed her sword, and nodded as well. Their cue. They both darted forwards with great speed. Nem took Kindwel’s shoulders as Kylantha took his feet and they uncerimonously lifted him and ran.

Kylantha did not look behind her as she heard the creature follow, not with hulking steps but instead with an almost snakelike slither.

“Duck!” Nem called, she was jogging backwards as fast as she could so she could keep an eye on the creature. Kylantha did as ordered and a piece of broken fruniture soared over her head and hit the wall.

She swore she could feel the beast right behind heras they made it to the stairs- in an executive decision she reached up= drawing Kindwel’s dagger (Letting go of one of his legs in the process). Turning to see, the creature only a few feet away, nearly impossible to miss with a thrown dagger.

Yet not training for two months had taken its toll on her. Her throw missed. And the dagger clattered to the floor next to the creature.

“Wonderful job, why don’t you leave things like that to me.” Nim’s voice was cold again. “And help us not die”

Kylantha tried not to wilt. She had not even been among to kill just to incapacitate, and her miss had cost them valuable time. They were barely up the stairs when it burst out after them. When they reached the door Kylantha could sware the beast could reach out and touch them.

Then suddenly, Kindwel was put down and a flash of silver at her side told her thatNem was there with her rapier flashing. Fending back the beast of rotten plants.

She stared for a moment too long before remembering why she was here. And rushing to the door. She did not know how long it would take to undo the lock. She calmed her mind, and started to work, carefully inserting the pins into the the lock to feel it out.

Behind her, Nem screamed.

“I cannot believe!” Kylantha’s grandmother said in a deadly calm voice. “That you let that thing loose in the town hall.”

It had been three hours after Kylantha had broken herself, Nem, and Kindwel free of the town hall. Three hours since the plant monster had been defeated by a embarssed Jin who had left the building to get a drink while leaving the two trainee’s behind. Now Kylantha waited silently, standing behind her grandmother. And watched the interaction.

“Think of what might have happened had it gotten ahold of any other artifacts!” Kinthara said with a slightly raised voice. “Your wards would have died Jin. What would have happened then.”

Jin, a tall satyr with rams horns shuffled uncomfortably. “They could die anyway, it’s part of the job-”

“Not for a training excesice!” Kinthara roared. And Kylantha jumped, taking a few steps back. She had only ever seen her grandmother this angry once before. On a day she often refused to think about, and this moment was indeed often. “They are children Jin. And the fact that you are okay with them dying as children is just as much a problem with your orgiization as it is you. If my granddaughter had not been there-”

“She should not have even passed the doors. Whatever test this was failed because she was there.” Jin said dismissively. “We could have-”

“They would have died without her. And she without them. I notice that of the three of them, the only one that was out cold was one of yours Jin.” Kinthara’s voice had gone back to deadly calm. “If you pull something like this again I will see you exiled from this town.” She turned and stalked over to Kylantha, before smiling at her granddaughter. “You did good today, I’m proud of you.”

Kylantha blinked at her. “I stole…” She said softly, offering her grandmother her tools. “I went to the top of the town hall without permission.”

Her grandmother laughed gently. “You did do both of those things…” She took the tools. “I’ll make sure these get returned to whom and where they belong. You did however see something, and try to find out what to do about it. And in the end, you saved lives because of it.”

Kylantha looked at her grandmother and smiled. She blinked as she heard Jin talking to Nem.

“You got saved by the failure. How do you think that makes me look? Don’t let it happen again. I’ll test you both again tomorrow.”

Kylantha wilted, even as flowers started to regrow in her hair. She was the failure, she knew that. Not even her grandmothers praise could get that image out of her head. “Grandmother.” She said softly. “Can you train me with weapons?”

Kinthara glanced down at Kylantha with a raised eyebrow. “Do you truly wish to learn them?” She asked gently.

“No.” Kylantha said after a moment. “I don’t think I do.

“Then no.” Kylantha’s grandmother smiled, as they walked back to their house.

[h-s-moonshadow]

The Mystery of Healing Story 2 - Part 3

She wasted no time entering the town hall. The building made of loving trees that amazed her each and every time she ent inside of it. A vast interwoven floor of roots grown from each tree somehow were level inside. A product of the achient magic that had helped the tree’s become silver together in the first place.

Kylantha wondered to herself as she stepped inside if perhaps she was being overdaramatic. Her flowers wilted sometimes after they fell if they found nowhere to root. Yet the ground around the town hall was fertile. The idea that her flowers couldn’t take root in that ground seemed nieve to her. Even if she was wrong she would prefer to investigate and be wrong as opposed to not investigating and being right.

As the doors carved from the two tall oaks that intertwined to make the front doors as well as the archway that housed them closed behind her. She closed her eyes, listening to the area around her. What sounds should she hear in the building what sounds did she hear instead.

Rarely was anyone simply walking the building. The council offices were here, yet she expected those to be mostly empty today as much of the council had jobs elsewhere. She hoped that a specific office was locked and dark. She did not know if she could accept any other outcome there.

Hear ears twitched slightly as she heard the breeze outside. Felt the sleightest breeze of it through the trees around her that made the leaves in the interwoven branches above her shiver. She nodded to herself, nothing out of the ordinary yet, who knew how long that would last.

Opening her eyes she looked at the green interwoven branches hove her. Green with leaves. Something that was always a chore to clean up every autumn when they fell in the main town hall. She considered, if someone was above like she had seen, would she be able to see the branches bend?

The answer came to her quickly as did memories of parties and joy in this place. Joy she had since avoided since she had gone to live with her grandmother. Not that there had not been parties here. She simply had not attended. And the branches above her would not sag with a few hundred on top of them. There was little to no doubt that they would not sag with only one person on them.

Which left her with the question of where to go, she stills tood in front of the main entrance to the town hall. Looking over a vast room with a pit for a fire in the center, and several smaller pits along either side. No chairs or tables were here, they were grown for each and every event or occasion, which in turn meant that the town hall looked desolate when there was no event planned.

She considered. The offices were a floor below, the basement. Yet the shape had been in the third floor, above library above. How long had she been standing there, did she even know. Was it even worth it to check anymore? Whoever had been there might have slipped out one of the upper windows.

In which case…

Kylantha moved. Her cloak gently moving behind her as she pulled up the hood, to cover her flowers and prevent herself from leaving a trail of them behind her like some strange guide of the forest. Her footsteps sounded like thunder to her in her boots. Even though she knew in some form or fashion that they would be quiet to anyone further away than her own head.

Moving to the back of the town hall, she glanced at the door to the staircase leading up. A spiral thing sung right into the trunk of a rather large pine tree. The inside smelled of the tree’s sap- though no sap was present on the stairs or walls of this construction. She slipped up them, and entered the second floor- the library.

This room was deceptively big. She had always known that. Yet as she knew that it was no larger than the floor below her, as she looked over the stacks and stacks of books she simply had a hard time comprehending it. Shelves grown out of the branches of the tree’s interwoven and compleatly smooth by the song that the founders of the town had once sang. With book upon book inside. She knew they had a few thousand books here. Yet it amazed her that there could be more books than that. She had once heard that a library in a major city could have millions of books. Part of her constantly wondered what that might look like. As well as if people ever got lost.

She considered the area, she realized something. The feeling of offense that had driven her to start her investigation in the first place had gone away. Frowning she considered. Investigating the library itself seemed like the wrong decision. It was not where she had seen the shapes. She had seen them above.

She sighed and shook her head. She was somehow moving far too fast and far too slow at the same time. She needed to focus.

Part of that would require breaking the rules. Going up to the third floor. A place her grandmother had permission to go and yet she did not. Kylantha doubted that being Kinthara’s granddaughter would get her out of the trouble she would get into if she got caught up there.

Still, she had to try. She walked to the opisite wall, where another thick pine had been sung into a staircase to bring those who needed it up to the third floor, here there was a door on the staircase. One with a lock she knew needed a very specific type of key to open.

Only a fool takes the harder path first. Her grandmothers words echoed in Kylantha’s head. She tilted her head considering for a long moment. What was the harder path. She needed to get up the stairs and the only way was through the door. Which was locked.

Only, was it? She had not tried the door yet, she was just standing in the middle of the room between the two staircases considering trying to unlock it. She idly reached down to where her tools were not.

She blinked, glancing down to her belt where she had no locksmithing tools. Sadly this made a bit too much sense as she intentionally had not brought them with her on this mandated outting. She sighed softly, and reached to see if perhaps. The door to the third floor was unlocked.

It pulled open, quiet as could be. Kylantha looked at it in slight incredulity. Why was it unlocked? There was only one real answer to that question, someone was up there or had been up there, and had forgotten to lock the door behind them.

She did not know if she should be happy or sad that this confirmed that she certainly had seen someone on the third floor. Yet she still did not know where that feeling of offness came from. She had expected it to be stronger closer to the force that was on the third floor. Yet as she started up the steps she realized that the offness was vanishing more. It was somewhere else, not on the top floor.

She pushed onwards anyway. Whatever was up here was most likely connected to whatever she was feeling off. As she exited onto the final floor, she glanced around the interwoven branches that made it. And nodded to herself. This was how she remembered it, a vast room filled with shelves, only these shelves did not contain books, but rather artifacts. Some were magic she knew, and some were not. Somewhere, locked in cases, or behind bars.

All were important in some way, to the history of the town and the people who lived within. The treaty between the Minotaurs and wood elves was housed on this floor. Artifacts from her grandmothers adventuring days. It was a showcase that so few ever got to see without permission.

The showcases were arranged perpendicular to the direction Kylantha was facing, so she started down towards the right side so she could look down the rows. It would be the best way to see anyone that was there. The only sounds she made was the rustling of her cloak and the careful step of her feet.

Yet as she started moving she became aware of another sound. Footsteps. She could not tell how many but she did know that they were getting louder. She focused for a half second longer. They were coming from the right. She darted left, as quickly and quietly as she could.

She slipped behind one of the shelves ends. Her small stature making it easier for her to conceal herself behind it. Glancing into the next row of shelves and noting it was empty, she slipped behind the edge of the next shelf. Perhaps she would be visible if someone came from either end of the room, but she was quite certain the only people in the room were on the other side.

She adjusted her hood, checking the next row as she heard the footsteps stop. Whoever else was up here was making no attempt to hide their presence from anyone here. It likely meant they were up here legitimately.

She listened again, trying to gage where she had heard the footsteps stop. Voices suddenly started. To quiet to hear the words clearly, but just loud enough for her to be able to pinpoint where they were.

Quietly she moved through the rows until she found the row nearest them, and peeked around teh shelves to see who was there. She froze, looking at the two figures.

One was a wood elven girl around her own age, with long black hair, tan skin, and brown eyes. She was taller than Kylantha by a few inches, and held herself with a confidance that Kylantha envied.

The other person was a human in his teens, with pale skin and a thin form. With a sweep of his hand he tucked some of his strawberry blond hair behind a slightly pointed ear. So Kylantha had been wrong. He was not a human, but indeed a half elf. She considered them from her admirably bad hiding spot just around the shelves as they spoke.

Both of them wore dappled green cloaks. Had light leather armor on their torso, carried a bow and quiver on their back, and had a rapier as well as a hunting dagger at their side.

Kylantha could not help herself but feel that she should be with them right now. Or at least with Nemithala, the elven girl who’s voice suns could now make out as clear as day.

“Kindwel, we’re not making any progress up here.” Nemithaia said with a small sigh. “We are stuck in a rut and we keep looking at the same several artifacts. The source might not even be up here. We might simply be wasting time by being here.”

The teen sighed and looked at her. “We were told that it’s an artifact of great evil and corruptive power. If we can’t locate it in this room then where would it be. They would not put it anywhere else in the building. It would be too dangerous.”

Kylantha blinked. So they were looking for an artifact? Was this part of the training they both were going through? Kylantha instantly felt a knot in her stomach. She should just leave. That would be for the best. That way they could get on with it. After all if there was a dangerous artifact here there was most likely another a full Sylka Tyree here. She did not know if she could stand to face one of them.

She turned and slipped away. Away from Nemithaia, whom she still thought of as Nem. She moved away. She ran, even if that was not the speed of her legs, still certain and silent she moved away so she did not need to deal with keeping the group.

“Relax, no one else can get into the building until we find teh source. That’s why Jin put the wards around the town hall. Only those touched by the fey can enter.” Nem’s voice carried as Kylantha moved away. And Kylantha froze.

It was logical that she could get in then. Why she could bypass whatever wards that this Jin had set up if they were related specifically to those who had been touched by the fey. Perhaps she should not have been in the building but she certainly had a good excuse.

Either way she needed to leave. She moved back to the door and started down the spiral stairs to the second floor. Quietly pushing open the door at the bottom and slipping out. Glancing around the second floor, a feeling struck her. One of decay and sickness.

Gasping she fell to her knees with a thump. Something felt wrong in a way she would not have been able to discribe even after the fact of experiacing it. She reached up to undo her hood- as it felt stifling. As she pulled it back from her head she heard a sickening crunch. As dust fell from her head.

In horror she reached up feeling as dust fell from all around her hair- no flowers were growing or in it. They were all dead, decaying. A shower of dust falling around her. She made a strangled sound, she might have hated her flowers but feeling them all be reduced to nothing but dust felt so wrong it was hard to discribe.

[h-s-moonshadow]

The Mystery of Healing: Story 2 - Part 2

Kylantha walked along the allies of her town again. She walked with a dark brown cloak, not the one that hung in her room, with the slashes in it and leaf clasps for the neck, but instead the cloak that her grandmother had gotten her when Kylantha had first moved in. Made of wool, so even in the coldest of winter’s Kylantha could be warm.

It was not the cold of winter outside, indeed it was the gentle chill of spring. Yet Kylantha wore her cloak anway. It had a hood. Her hair and all of the flowers that grew from it could be hidden within that hood. She appreciated that more than she appreciated the warmth. It allowed her to be anonymous. As anonymous as one such person who always wore a cloak in a decently small village could be.

Therefore, Kylantha kept to the shadows. Walking on light nearly silent feet between houses, stores, and storehouses. Enjoying the sunlight around her even as she stuck to the shadows.

Passing near the middle of town, Kylantha paused, looking out at the square where just a month ago traders had been. Looking to bargain and trade. It was where Kylantha’s Grandmother had gotten Kylantha’s locket.

She turned and moved away. The square was busy today. People milled about, and she recognized most of them. She had fixed their locks. Her mind reached for the other things she had once done for them but she blocked it. She could not think about that. Her feet moved away, taking her to a different place as she wrapped her cloak around her more. Seeking the comfort of being cocooned more than the pleasure of being warm.

She looked at the sky. It had surely been an hour, yet as she had feared, the sun had moved barely any. It had been perhaps a quarter of an hour. She did not know where to spend the rest of it. 

She walked along the outside of the town square, behind the shops and community stores. Behind the large town hall. Kylantha paused and looked at the building. Something about it seeming, off.

A massive wooden structure, the town hall had not been built, but instead grown with the magic of the elves and minotaurs that lived in. Only the richest houses were sung into places such as this. Massivive constructions of living tree’s that grew into the shape of a long building with three floors. Indeed she could see where those who had grown it had shaped the windows, made from branches, to hold the glass.

She shrugged to herself. She had nothing better to do while she was out and about. That feeling of offness had not quite gone away. She moved to go towards the building, to go out into the square to take the main entrance. Then stopped herself.

How should I approach this, she thought to herself as she regarded the structure. Once she had been in multiple times before. Yet those times where when she had been invited in. Going with her grandmother or…

Once more she pushed thoughts from her mind. Something was off about the building. She was almost certain of it now. She frowned, taking her hood off. Walking forwards towards the building, she rested a hand on one of the tree’s trucks that made it up. She was not quite sure why she did it, it simply felt right.

When first investigating a situation, always make sure to look at everything that’s presented as a whole first, and then start to investigate the individual pieces.

Her thoughts spoke to her in her grandmothers voice. She nodded to herself. She was moving both too fast and too slow. Too fast for proper inspection, and too slow to be of any use in case whatever she felt was more than just a feeling.

Find what is wrong first. Do a perimeter. Kylantha’s grandmother’s words came back to her again. Two months with her Grandmother and Kylantha had already started to learn that while she was a locksmith, that was only one of hre grandmother’s many talents.

She started to walk around the building. Hood down so she could see without any shadows in her eyes, each step quiet but not silent as she moved and her cloak flowed behind her.

The wind picked up and she felt some flowers blow out of her hair (Quickly replaced by new ones) as she looked at the tree’s to see if any where sick. As she looked at the windows in case of fire. As she considered what-

A flicker of movement caught her eye. It was on the third floor. A floor reserved for only those with permission or supervision. The place where the town records were kept. She frowned. Watching the window for another flicker. Standing perfectly still in the street below.

A few moments later it happened again, not once but twice. And she distinctly saw two shapes. It was not much to go on, but it was more proof than she had had a few moments before, therefore it was more valuable.

She nodded to herself, before turning to head to the front door. She reached up, to run a hand through the flowers and her hair.

She watched as they fell to the soft grassy ground. Expecting them to find a place to take root. Instead, she watched as they withered and vanished to dust.

[h-s-moonshadow]

The Mystery of Healing: Story 2 - Part 1

Kylantha worked on the lock that had been presented her with a careful focus. Tools inside as she tried to slip the broken key fragments out of the lock. She pursed her lips in a gentle frustration as she continued to try to get the fragments out. They were twisted however, and stuck in a manor she’d not yet seen before. Frustrated she set her tools and her lock down. Running a hand through her hair.

Of course the flowers that grew in her hair, tulips and violets for the springtime, fell and hit the floor before new flowers grew in their place. She looked at the small mess she had just made and let out a sigh.

“Being dramatic are we today?” The deep feminine voice of her grandmother asked from where the elder elven woman was seated a few feet away reading a romance novel with a handsome elven man on the cover. “Or has the key finally beaten you?”

Instantly Kylantha looked down. Dark green eyes finding the floor. A gentle shame flooded her. “No Grandmother, I’m not,” She said in that voice that did not feel like it was meant to be hers. The one that so often felt like she spoke and another said her words for her. She did not wish to speak more, yet there was the other question. “It has not.”

Her grandmother hid her wince well, but Kylantha had been around her long enough to tell that it had happened. She did not have to look up to see the look of gentle pity that she was being given. A look she always felt guilty for. She did not deserve pity. Everyone else made that quite clear. Everyone who mattered anyway.

“If you need a break take one. You’ve already gotten most of the key out. Today’s a slow day and there’s no rush on fixing any of these locks” The warmth of her grandmother’s voice felt wrong. Kylantha was failing in her task. She wanted to rip her locket off, the beautiful gold masterwork with the moonflower silver inlay. The one her grandmother had gotten her not but a month ago for her seventy-sixth birthday.

She did not, indeed she took a breath and felt her shirt press the locket against her sternum. There was some comfort there against the metal warmed by the contact with her skin. She looked up at her grandmother. Dark green eyes finding the woman who had taken her in.

“Do I have to?” She asked softly, almost hopeful that she would have an excuse to not take a break. That her Grandmother would change her mind and tell Kylantha to keep working on fixing the lock.

Her grandmother looked back at her and smiled. Looking at Kylantha and then the rock. Considering the options she had given her grandaughter. Kylantha saw warmth in that gaze. The warmth of a hot mug of coco. Her stomach tightened at that.

“Yes. Go outside, take a walk. Come back after an hour has passed. No sooner, though I do not care if there is a much later.” Kylantha’s grandmother sood and stretched, yawning gently. “I need some rest myself,” She winked.

Kylantha blinked at her grandmother. She needed, then she took a moment. Her mind focusing. Her grandmother’s finger was still in the book marking the page. She had not put the elegant wooden bookmark she usually used inside of the book.

“Are you just standing up so that I feel better about leaving?” Kylantha asked, tilting her head to the side- jossling the flower that had grown in her hair, though none had fallen out.

Her grandmother smiled. “And what would give you that idea Kyl?” She asked, gentle and kind amusement infusing her tone.

“Your finger is still in your book,” Kylantha pointed, speaking almost instantly after the questionm was asked. “And you have not grabbed your bookmark yet. That indicates that you are not going anywhere and will simply sit down and continue to read once I leave.”

“Very good observations,” Her grandmother said with a smile and a nod. “I’m proud that you made those, astute as always,” The elder elven woman walked over to the workbench where the lock that Kylantha had set down was. As well as the tools that she had not put up yet. “What could you also infer?”

The wheels in Kylantha’s mind turned as she considered the evidence. They were in the workshop, and that generally meant that they would be there for most of the day. However the seats in the workshop were not meant for comfort.

It clicked. She walked over and grabbed her grandmothers bookmark. A beautiful think peace of mahogony wood, with an eatching of a young elven woman with a rapier fighting off a hundred men with swords.

“If you’re going to the living room to be by the fire,” She murmured softly. “You’re still going to want this right? In case something comes up quickly.”

Her grandmother smiled. “I am,” She said taking the bookmark. “Now, go enjoy your mandatory time off granddaughter. The locks will still be here when you return.”

[h-s-moonshadow]

Sigils and Servitude: Part 21

Nomira’s eyes lit up, and suddenly Orsa felt like she was looking at a different woman. Gone were the cold silver eyes of someone who now commanded servants. Gone was the posture of a princess, constantly checked and managed. Instead a different posture appeared in Nomira. One that Orsa could not quite place. She laughed softly.

“Well! Here goes then.” Orsa had given this pitch so many times she had it well and truely memorized. 

“While not a a vast problem now. There have been moments during hard times where our kingdom’s middle class has fallen in wealth substantially. Where those with families have needed to sell their houses and valuables to survive, essentially leaving them homeless on the streets of Untine. I seek to fix the problems that arise from that. Those who live homeless on the streets might still have a chance of making a life for themselves, of becoming comfortable. Yet at the moment they have no help in doing so. Help that is so desperately needed.

That is why I am preposing these Reform Homes. A communal home that allows for free stay so long as those staying there are working towards a job. Towards owning a home. So long as they are steadily getting better. This benefits everyone in the long run. It makes sure that our people have ways to still live a good life, even after or during times that it might be harder to.”

Orsa glanced at Nomira. “Do you want me to go into the details or is that enough for you?”

Nomira took a moment then nodded. “That’s enough for now.” She regarded Orsa with those silver eyes. Then paused. “I’m not actually sure I can help with this.” Orsa watched as Nomira’s cheeks darkened. “This isn’t Galdraz. This is Untine. You most likely have different laws and ideas. I haven’t been spending time here actually learning those laws. Though perhaps it would be a good idea to.”

Orsa blinked. “You had me recite all of that just to tell me you can’t help? Nomira, are you doing well?” A brief pause as something Nomira said clicked in her head. “What have you been looking up in here?”

Nomira’s blush somehow got even darker. “Well, I’m used to workshopping my own pitches but those are based on Galdrazian law, so workshopping pitches with laws that I don’t understand means that whatever knowledge I might have of my own does not translate here. I’m greatly,” She paused looking at the books. “I mean I could do some light reading if you have those open to the proper pages.” She reached for one of the books, picking it up and starting to skim. “Sigil mechanics. Remaking the notebook that your father took from me. It’s going to take a while, especially when I can only devote thirty minutes to an hour every day for it.”

Orsa blinked. She was casually using the- when in the world did she even come into the library. Orsa had never found her here in the evenings. Indeed Nomira was usually at Orsa’s side or off attending to some task that needed doing. Orsa had no idea when Nomira even had the time to come into the library and take notes on sigils. “Why?” A simple question, and the first to escape Orsa’s mouth.

“I love them.” She said softly. “That’s really all. I love Sigils.” Nomira glanced at Orsa. “Now I’m in the birthplace of Sigils. I’m going to do all I can to learn of them.”

Orsa thought for a moment closing one of her books. “You’re good at sigils right?”

“As good as a woman with no formal training, no actual power, and just old books to teach her can be.” Nomira shrugged. “There’s so much that can be done with sigils Orsa. I had intended to come here when I was old enough and gain the gift from a dragon. When I got home, I could use the power of sigils to make the lives of my people easier.”

Orsa blinked. “How would you do that? Sigils can be useful sure but they have so many limitations…”

Nomira paused. “I once devised a sigil that could heat up water, to a bathing temperature or to a boil. One that could light a fire if needed. One that transported water so that aquaducts would not be needed.” As she continued her voice grew more passionate. In that way that only those who truely cared about something could talk of. “They’re all in my notebook… plus so much more.” Nomira’s silver eyes clouded as she thought. “Silly little Sigils that I’d use to play pranks on my brother. More serious sigils to help my soon to be husband… after we had an heir and he was off doing his own thing.”

Orsa blinked. “Right, I keep forgetting that you were about to be married.” She felt guilty again. Her sigil had brought Nomira here. Nomira did not seem to still be angry about it, but Orsa’s guilt settled in her stomach. “These sigils that you’re speaking of sound amazing. I’ll try to convince my father to let you get your notebook back.”

Nomira blinked. “You will?” 

Orsa laughed softly. “Yes, if it can help you get those together, would you be willing to share them with me? My ability with Sigils is not really something that I can do. But with the help of Sigilists, perhaps we can build something here that makes use of all the research you’ve put into this.”

Nomira smiled. “Thank you! Truely, thank you.” Then she paused. “Do you want me there to take notes for you at the meeting?”

Orsa blinked glancing at the library clock. Then she nodded. “I do. Come with me. We can talk more after my proposal gets shot down.”

[h-s-moonshadow]

Sigils and Servitude: Part 20

It was an hour later when she heard footsteps enter the library, a vast tower room in the castle completely lined with various books. A spiral staircase went up to several balcony floors each with ladders that stretched up to the next floor. The shelves completely filled with books. THe balcony and main floor having tables and chairs to sit and read at.

Orsa had a small pile of books next to her, many open to random pages. She did not have a notebook, seeing as she was just checking up on the regular legalities she was quite sure she already understood. Looking over the wording. The footsteps however, drew her eyes from the page and to the short woman with teal hair. Nomira had found her once more.

Nomira moved and stood in front of Orsa, raising an eyebrow at the stack of books. Most of them were in the common language, but a few were in the draconic tongue. Orsa paused as Nomira’s eyes lingered on one of those in the draconic tongue. A trestige of philosophy titled “The Wisdom of the Scales”. Nomira’s silver eyes were so intent that for a moment Orsa wondered if she could read the tongue.

Nomira’s eyes moved to Orsa. “Research going well?” Her voice shocked Orsa. It was not commanding, nor was it assertive. It was how she had spoken to her when they were eating breakfast that day that Orsa had given her the right of reform. 

Orsa blinked. “It’s going. Please take a seat Nomira.” She said with a small smile. “Did you find who you needed to to be Nightingales groom?” Those words tasted sour coming out of her mouth, yet she remembered the message from Nomira. Just because Nightingale had a groom did not mean that she could not take care of him. It simply meant there was an extra pair of hands to help her.

Nomira smiled, a true smile. One that reached her silver eyes and made them shine like the moon. “I did indeed, her name is Beltav. She was actually a groom for a noble family here. The Invons but-”

“Their son caused an issue?” Orsa said with a small sigh. “I assume?” She had known the name instantly. Lord and Lady Invon were both wonderful. Their son however, Pinent, had caused her many headaches over the past few years as she started working with administrative duties.

Nomira nodded, her face falling slightly. “Yes. She was fired but she is an excellent groom. Best woman for the job I think.” Orsa watched as Nomira leaned back and regarded the books. “So. You’re getting ready for whatever your plan is?”

Orsa nodded. “Needed to check the legality of someone living in a place they don’t own. How the people who run this house might be orgnized. The rules that those inside might need to live by so that they are getting the best out of the house.”

Nomira paused. “Princess, I haven’t a clue what you are talking about. You’ve never explained what you want to do here to me.”

Orsa blinked, then felt her cheeks redden. “I- have I- not? I-”

Nomira raised an eyebrow leaning back, her teal hair gently shimmering in the beam of light from a window like blue fire. “Have you even pitched your plan to anyone? Do you know what you’re going to say?”

Orsa blinked. “Of course I have.” That had been what she had been doing for the past month when she had talked with many different lords and ladies of the courts. Trying to get support for this idea. It could not just be the crowns project, it was something to improve the lives of everyone. “What makes you think that I have not workshopped this idea?”

Nomira raised an eyebrow. “Nothing yet Princess.”

Orsa paused. “Would you like to hear my pitch?” She asked with a small sigh. “So that you can… approve it or whatever the blood and scales you want to do?”

Nomira raised an eyebrow, then paused. Orsa watched as the woman almost wilted in her chair. Nomira glanced at Orsa, her tan cheeks darkening slightly. “Sorry Princess. I’m… treating you as my parents often treated me. At least when it came to matters of state. I would love to hear your pitch, and might be able to offer a limited amount of suggestions should you want me to.”

Orsa blinked at the apology then nodded. “Thank you, for apologizing.” She said after a moment. “I’d be happy to give you the pitch."

[h-s-moonshadow]

Sigils and Servitude: Part 19

Orsa stood in the empty interview room and let out a breath. Before turning and walking out the doors. She had other things to attend to before her meeting with her father and the court. She apperently had a saddle and horse to tend to for the final time before Nomira took that away from her as well.

The past week had been almost utter agony, Nomira constantly being on Orsa’s tail about the smallest things. Asking about how many people she wanted to be staffed with. The answer had been none but Nomira had decided upon sixteen. Sixteen people to become Orsa’s personal staff. All chosen by Nomira.

At first, Orsa had wondered if indeed this was a plot by Nomira to assassinate someone in the castle. Yet every person she chose had been Untineian. Few foreigners had showed up to the castle for the jobs, and what few had Nomira had sent packing almost instantly. Orsa considered the possibilities as to why as she walked towards the stables.

She had not been there for any of the prior interviews. She had however watched from the wall as the prospective servants entered, and who left first. It was always those not from Untine. Each and every time Nomira rejected them. She wondered if it was like today with the ladies Nomira had sent away first. Due to something they could not control.

She turned to take the stairs down to the stables. Nomira had sent the first group of ladies away today to help Orsa’s comfort level. Why would she send foreigners to Untine away? Thoughts raced through her head. Was this a political game that Nomira was playing? Trying to get the country to see that Orsa was rejecting all who were not her own people?

She shook her head and pushed the thoughts from her mind as she finally arrived at the stables. Smelling the familiar smells of hey, horse, and dung. Her fathers horses had grooms of course. He had no time to tend to all of them himself. Yet when Orsa had first gotten her horse, he had insisted that she learned how to care for the creature. A beautiful stallion that she looked for as she started towards his stall in the stables.

She saw him quickly. Almost as quickly as the black horse saw her and let out an ear peircing whinny of excitement. Bobbing his head quickly. She laughed as she approached him and reached out a hand to pat his muzzle. “There there Nightingale.” She said with a laugh, as he searced for for the sugar cubes she had not brought. “Not today.”

The horse looked almost offended and looked at her with intelligent brown eyes. Nuzzling her again as if for sugar cubes. She rolled her eyes. “I can try to get some for you-” She said with a laugh raising a finger which started to glow in the air. “But we both know how that ended last time”

Nightingale’s eyes widened and he snorted in a way that Orsa took to mean “I don’t need sugar snacks now if that’s what it takes”. Orsa silently agreed with him. It had taken ages to get that out of his coat last time. She gently patted his nuzzle then moved to grab her brush.

The horse moved gently to the side so that she could access his body easier. She smiled, humming as she started to brush the horses coat. Long proper strokes, like she had been taught. It was a movement she could get lost in, like jogging, or her training katas.

Time passed in a blur around her as she cared for Nightingale. After she finished his coat she moved on to caring for his saddle. Which was kept next to him for the sole purpose of her own conveyance. The entire process took around an hour. Yet it did not feel like it did. The smell of the oil filled her nose, mixing with the scent of the leather saddle and the stables.

There was another scent too, spicy with notes of different herbs that she had never bothered to learn the name of. She blinked and turned to see Delion walking towards her with a tray full of spicy food. A curry that was causing the strong scent, along with a roll of a grainy bread to dip. Meat bobbed in the curry, as well as several currently unidentified vegetables.

Orsa’s stomach grumbled as she smelled the food. It was nearing noon. She paused looking at Delion, an older man, standing shorter than her, but the average height for more masculine Untineians. He was bald, but his golden beard denoted what his hair color must have once been. He had been selected as one of the runners of her new servant staff by Nomira. Why he had been selected Orsa could not say. He was slow, not anything at all like the young spry people that were normally chosen for the task.

Orsa blinked. “Delion? What is the meaning of this?”

“Madam Nomira insisted that I take you lunch. She mentioned that it would be easier to get you lunch in the stables than insist you come take it in the dining hall Princessm” He said with a small bow of his head. “She also wished to mention that while she will select a groom, they will attend to other duties if you still wish to tend to this one. Any day you do not tend to the duties of your horse, your groom will be here to ensure that he is taken care of.” Delion bowed.

Orsa blinked. Nomira could indeed read minds. Or perhaps she had simply grown a soul since they had last spoken. “Thank you.” She said softly. “Tell Madam Nomira that will be a wonderful arrangement. I will write a list of tasks for the new groom tonight.” She paused. “Also please inform her to cancel the meeting with the Sigilist. I have research that I must do after I indulge in my lunch.”

“Do you want me to wait? Or return for the tray Princess?” Delion asked. Tilting his head.

Orsa smiled. “Return in half an hour Delion. I will be done by then.”

[h-s-moonshadow]

Sigils and Servitude: Part 18

Orsa was certainly there for the rest of the time Nomira interviewed the prospective bathmaidens. Yet she was not focused on the conversation at hand. She barely noticed when some were dismissed. She did not focus on the teal haired woman’s words as she asked question after question. Her mind was befuddled with emotion and worry.

She did not know Karina, the city of Untine was large and though she wished she had time to spend with its people more, the responsibilities of Princess often took over that area. She had not taken an advisor yet. Mainly relying on her fathers when they were not helping him.

“Princess?” Nomira’s voice cut through Orsa’s thoughts like a blade. Orsa blinked looking at Nomira with a slightly befuddled look. Nomira gazed at her with those silver eyes. Eyes that seemed like they could put out a fire if she was persistent enough. Nomira raised an eyebrow, then gestured to the two women left in the room. “Your new bathmaidens.”

It took all Orsa had to not blush at that very idea, that very thought. She had never had someone in the room with her to bathe her since she had been a child. It felt weird and strange to now let two woman she barely knew help her with washing. Yet, as she moved to once again say she did not need a bathmaiden, guilt rose in her stomach. 

An odd feeling, that guilt. It had been there since the moment she had seen Nomira’s reaction to knowing that Orsa was the reason she was here stuck in this position. Nomira was probably doing this to get back at her. To take her revenge by making her as uncomfortable as possible. She was taking away Orsa’s comfort activities. All under the guize of brining her a good house staff.

Orsa snapped herself back to reality and nodded stoickly. “Wonderful. Nomira, show them to their rooms please. I will call on them when I need them.” She paused, then nodded. “You are dismissed.”

The bathmaidens walked out of the room. They were Untineian for certain. Both six feet tall, with long flowing hair. One with blond hair and golden eyes, the other with brown ahir and brown eyes. Orsa watched them leave and let out a breath, until she noticed Nomira had not followed them. She raised an eyebrow. “I said-”

“Do you know their names?” Nomira asked, bluntly. “They’ve introduced themselves, but I don’t know where you were during that conversation. We can’t have you wondering who they are.

Orsa blinked. Then shook her head. “No, could you, remind me? I was thinking of some of my afternoon appointments.” Appointments that Nomira had made. If Orsa had to give her credit for anything, this woman could plan. Her days went so much smoother with Nomira working towards getting an entire week scheduled in advance. For the moment however, things were still a bit rough.

Nomira nodded. “I assume it’s your meeting with the general assembly with your father?” She asked. “The blond is Trisstine, she prefers Triss. The brunette is Selvantine.” She paused. “They might not actually be that good at washing you.” She said after a moment. “Give them a chance.”

Orsa blinked, then regarded Nomira. “How do you do that?” She asked incredulous. “Just manage to pinpoint these- wait what do you mean they might not be good at washing me is that not the entire point of you hiring them?” Blood and blades this woman made no sense.

Nomira rolled her eyes. “You’re other appointment this afternoon is with a,” She paused and Orsa caught a hint of pure disgust in Nomira’s eyes as she recalled the other appointment. “Sigilist who needs to ask for allocations of resources. It wasn’t that hard.” Nomira took a deep breath and then raised an eyebrow. “They needed the job.” She said after a moment. “Just like Karina needs a job.”

“I suppose that when you use the power of deduction, the part of the afternoon I’m stressed about isn’t talking to Sigilist Muntarix.” She sighed and adjusted her suit. Then frowned regarding Nomira. “Aren’t I supposed to have the best?”

Nomira raised an eyebrow. “I have to go lead those two ladies to their quarters. I’ll let you think about that question Princess.” With that, she turned and left the room. Orsa blinked at the quick exit, and looked around the room. What was she supposed to do about that? Was Nomira actively trying to be irritating beyond belief?

[h-s-moonshadow]

Sigils and Servitude: Part 17

She did not look at Orsa as they continued to walk, instead simply waiting to see if the princess said anything more. When Orsa said nothing, Nomira did not prompt her. 

They continued to move forwards until they reached a room with its door ajar. The inside was sparse, only a few benches, full of woman dressed in the same cropped tops that the nobles had worn as well as the same knee length skirts. The difference between them and the nobles however, was the fabric used. As far as Nomira could figure out, the lower clases used cotten for the tops while the nobles used silk. Both used leather for the skirts, though she could tell the leather for the lower class was lesser.

She still had not gotten a name for the garments, though she knew she would be allowed to wear them if she wished. She had asked for several, and the talor had thought it amusing how she referred to them. With a breath, she set her face and walked into the room.

The women instantly rose as Orsa followed Nomira in. Which made Nomira almost crack a smile, almost. She made sure that her silver eyes were ice cold as she surveyed the twenty or so women in the small room.

Orsa for her part, seemed to be uncomfortable. Nomira noticed her tugging at her suit coat and shirt. Something that the Princess seemed to greatly prefer over whatever the customary woman’s garment was. Orsa’s scarlet eyes seemed almost nervous as she surveyed the group.

Nomira glanced at Orsa. “Might I begin the interview Princess?” She asked, nodding her head in difference. No matter how outspoken she might be when it was just the two of them she would respect Orsa in public. Orsa’s own servant? Undermining her? After what Orsa had done in giving her the right to reform? That would never do.

Orsa jumped at Nomira’s words and she glanced over. Nomira blinked as she saw a tinge of a blush on Orsa’s cheeks. She tilted her head curiously, before Orsa spoke once more. “Yes, of course Nomira. I simply wanted to watch you work.”

Nomira nodded and turned to the group of women. “Firstly, those who enjoy the company of women in the evening, you may leave,” She kept her voice calm and commanding. Cold, preferably without ice. She did not want to scare these woman. Simply show them how seriously she was taking her own job. “You may return in one hour, I have an interview scheduled for another job here maintaining the Princess’s saddle and riding equipment.”

She waited for a moment, no one stood up. Nomira pursed her lips. “Come now. Let’s not be dishonest.” Her eyes traveled from woman to woman in the room. Carefully moving to meet each one with her cold silver gaze. Some shifted away from her. Nomira felt slightly bad for doing this, but also Orsa had said she did not want for this.

When still no one stood, Nomira nodded. “All of you, leave.” She said after a moment. “Out.”

The woman looked aghast opening their mouths to start arguing, one with long red hair stood and glared at Nomira. “And just what do you think you’re playing at telkon?”

The draconic word made Nomira flinch. She did not want to think about what it meant, she still wanted to pretend like she did not know the tongue of the people that the Untineians had slaughtered. She made a move to shoot a retort back. 

“How dare you!” Orsa’s voice caught everyone in the room by surprise. Deep and powerful it felt like it shook Nomira’s very soul. She glanced up at the Princess to see something she had not expected in her eyes. Anger. Nomira took a step back in shock as Orsa continued.

“She is my second.” Orsa growled stalking forwards towards the woman with red hair. The few woman on the bench in front of the unfortunate lady quickly moved to the side so Orsa could move forwards. “She might be undertaking the right of reform, but in doing so she is under the control of my staff.” The red haired woman shrunk back. “P- Princess b-but- We- All of us? Why do all of us need to leave? Why are we a- all getting-” Orsa leaned forwards, even with the extreme height of everyone from Untine, she was a good half a foot taller than the woman in front of her. “Why don’t you ask her yourself? And apologize.”

The woman nodded, Orsa stepped back, yet still managed to loom over the room. The red headed woman looked to Nomira. “I am sorry, Madam Nomira.” She said after a moment, the words sounding begruding in her mouth. “What I said was uncalled for. I was shocked by what you had told us, and wanted to make sure that I understood what was happening.” She looked up and into Nomira’s eyes. “Why must we all leave?”

Nomira looked at the red headed woman. “I know that there are those of you here, who prefer the company of woman to men. Truthfully, I cannot say I blame you. But if you will not leave and take my offer for the secondary job, then I cannot hire any of you. I do not know which of you want to be here because of the old custom, and I refuse to hire any that might be.”

Orsa blinked, and looked to Nomira. Seemingly shocked. “Nomira you-”

Nomira shot Orsa an ‘ask later’ look. Before looking at the room. “You can either all be taken out of this job opening because of some of you are selfish, or those of you who do not fit who I am hiring may leave, and come back in an hour so that we may speak of a different job. If you all leave now, no one may come back in the hour.”

The red headed woman paused. Then stood, walking towards the door. Nomira held up a hand. “Ma’am.”

She turned to look at Nomira. “What?” Her voice filled with venom. “Am I not allowed back because of what happened?”

“You should not be allowed back.” Nomira said softly, and several more, around seven of the twenty ladies stood. “What is your name?”

The red headed woman stood aside as the seven filed out of the room. “Karina.” She said after a long moment. “Why?”

Nomira raised an eyebrow. “Why? Because you’re to come back tomorrow, at the same time. I have a different job offer for you. You’re not getting the one later today.”

After a long moment, Karina nodded, and left the room. Nomira turned back to the remaining twelve ladies and offered a gentle smile. “Now! To choose two of you to be bathmaidens.”

[h-s-moonshadow]

Sigils and Servitude: Part 16

There was a three count in which Nomira had to remind herself to breathe. Before she nodded, forcing herself to speak in a steady voice. “Of course Princess. Follow me.”

Nomira turned to start leading Orsa down the hallway, towards the room she had been conducting her interviews in for the past three days. For the staff that would serve Princess Orsa. Even if the princess, stubbornly refused some things.

Orsa however, did not follow Nomira. “Was there another reason for that question?” She asked, her voice low and soft.

Nomira glanced behind her, raising an eyebrow. “About how you like your bathmaidens?” 

“Yes.” Orsa strode forward to walk alongside Nomira, who continued walking now that the princess was next to her. “Would I have not told you if I wanted my bathmaiden to be my lover, just as I told you that I did not want a carriage?”

Nomira sighed softly. “I don’t know what you would have told me Orsa. That’s the current problem in our relationship. I need to be utterly direct with you or else you don’t leave the instructions you mean with me. Something that I have learned of through the trial and error of the last week.”

“So you didn’t want to see if-”

“You were gay? I honestly don’t care.” Nomira said with a sigh. “Just wanted to make sure that if you wanted to be taken care of, you would be.”

“Taken ca- I don’t want to be taken care of by anyone! I dislike the servants you have assigned to my armor and blade now! Why would I want two more who are here to bathe me!” Orsa snapped back. “What is your game here!”

Nomira looked at Orsa as they walked. “Then why allow me to do any of this Princess? Why allow me to assign those that I am assigning. Why allow me to do this, to speak back with you? You could order me to do anything and yet here I am, doing what you ordered me too and yet you’re not happy about it!. What’s going on Orsa?”

Orsa pursed her lips. “I tried to get you on- nevermind.”  Nomira could hear the utter tension in the other woman’s voice. “You roll over all of my objections!”

“They are not orders,” Nomira said after a moment, looking at Orsa. “It is my job to get you a staff and therefore I am doing so. You have not ordered me to stop, and therefore I have not. I listen to your wants and desires when I pry them out of you so that whoever I choose they’re comfortable with.”

“Like that’s any better!” Orsa hissed back. “Why aren’t my objections good enough?”

Nomira looked up at Orsa. “Because your objections don’t run our relationship, Orsa. Your orders do.” She looked at the woman. “I do not know what you’re used to here yet, in terms of what power you have. But if you do not like what I’m doing then by the blood of the dragons you better start using that power on me.” Her voice was lower, a growl almost. “I am the leader of your staff yes? That makes me the lowest of your servants.”

Orsa looked completely taken aback by that, which internally made Nomira smile. Seeing this larger than life Princess who had complete control over Nomira’s life at the moment still shrink back at Nomira’s words and personality. It meant that at the very least she did have some power in the situation she had found herself trapped in.

“Do I have to use the bathmaidens?” Orsa said after a moment. “If you hire them will I be expected to have them wash me?”

“Once they’re hired they’re your staff. They will obey you. Technically that goes for everyone that I’ve hired. You can order them to sit around if you so choose.” Nomira glanced at Orsa. “I think that I see where this is going. 

[h-s-moonshadow]

Sigils and Servitude: Part 15 (Formerly Sigils and Willows, see note at the end)

Nomira strode down the hall in her new servant robes, looking through a notebook. Not her notebook, the king had not seen fit to give it back to her yet, but a notebook. It was the best that she could do at the moment and the first few pages were filled to the very brim with her writings and musings. Sechdulings for the new hires, their pay, and schedules for herself.

Now she searched for Orsa. She had not been able to pin the princess down into a firm schedule yet, though she was trying. If not a firm schedule, she at least wanted it to be consistent. It seemed like most of her days now were spent trying to find the Untinian princess instead of actually working as her personal head servant. The need to do both was something of a hard task.

Yet she pushed forwards. Walking towards one of the places that Orsa might be. She had noticed that the princess enjoyed the training grounds, and over the past week had found her three times training with the sword. Nomira’s mind started to drift to the last time that she had seen Orsa, there, hair in a ponytail, face dripping with sweat as scarlet eyes watched focused.

Nomira shook herself. Now was not the time for that. She had to find Orsa before the job interviews started. If she did not then who knew what insanity would follow. She had not been late to a single meeting yet, and she would keep that streak.

“Nomira?” The familiar voice of the Princess cut through the air as she walked towards the training grounds.

Nomira had to resist jumping into the air and spinning around. It would after all, undo all the work she had done to get her hair just right. The long teal locks in a tight bun with not a hair out fo place. She turned to face Orsa, and bowed to the princess.

“Princess, I was just looking for you.” She said with a curt and polite air. “I have questions for you about todays interviews. Specifically about what preferences you might have for your bathmaidens.”

Orsa regarded her with those scarlet eyes. Was that a smirk on her lips? Nomira resisted the urge to try to hit Orsa. She knew that the sigil that still lightly stung on the back of her neck would not let her. She had not tried to harm anyone. She had no reason too. Especially not after the night she had painstakingly spent using a mirror to try to replicate the sigil on a piece of paper.

She was confidant that she had failed, but if half of what she drew was correct then there was no way she could touch anyone in the castle without their permission. That had been a daunting revelation, that she was truely trapped here. Unable to leave unless Orsa was with her, which was extremely difficult when Orsa wanted to pretend that she did not exist.

“You’ve been trying to ask me about my bathing habits all week,” Orsa said with a sigh. “How many times have I told you that-” Nomira shot her a look. “Princess, how much time have the servants who wash your clothes saved you?” 

Orsa pursed her lips. “The servants who wash my clothes are not the discussion of what we need to do today.” 

Nomira rolled her eyes, she had been shocked by how much Orsa had done herself. Bathing, cleaning her clothes, her armor, her weapons. The only thing that Nomira had not tried to take over was Nomira’s room. She did not want the princess to have to worry about servants in there. For one reason or another. It simply did not matter to her. 

“They might not be, but now that you have personal washers, an armormer, and a groomer for your horse. It should only follow that you have bathmaidens. It is customary to have a least one in Untine I’ve learned. Which leads me to the question.” Nomira paused as she felt her cheeks flush, but it needed to be asked. After all, she did need to know if there were going to be one or two bathmaidens. “Do you wish to have a lesbian bathe you?” She asked glancing up.

The look on Orsa’s face alone was worth the question alone. A look of pure shock, her eyes widder than a shield. It looked like her jaw might keep falling to the floor as color flooded the princess’s cheeks. She blinked then stuttered for a moment before finally choking out. “N- NO! No- Why- NO not at- Why is that even a- how- I-”

Well that answered one question. Nomira made a notation. “If you’re to have a torrid love affair protical in this country dictate it be with your bathmaiden, singular if it is her, or with your carriage driver. Seeing as you refuse the carriage driver, I thought it might be with your bathmaiden. In which case you would be needed for the interviews.” She waved a hand. “Two, ladies who like exclusively men. They’ll be ready for you at seven this evening.”

Nomira turned to walk away. Still smiling to herself about Orsa’s reaction before. “Oh no you don’t!” 

She froze and turned as Orsa strode towards her. Willows and leaves that woman was tall. She towered over Nomira, looking down at her. “I will be at the interview.”

There was a three count in which Nomira had to remind herself to breathe. Before she nodded, forcing herself to speak in a steady voice. “Of course Princess. Follow me.” Note: After a long time struggling. I have decided to cut the Princes and Eden Nevermore from this project. I am sorry to do this now, but I feel as if they will have their time, and trying to figure out their plot was taking far to long. And was part of the reason this story hasn't updated. If I write them out separately, they will be a part of a different project, because there is a story there. Thank you for your understanding. I hope you enjoy Nomira and Osa's story.

[h-s-moonshadow]

The Mystery of Healing: Story 1 - Part 3 (Conclusion)

Her grandmother watched her for a long moment before she spoke. “Etel, give her the rundown.” Kylantha’s green eyes turned to the man, and she started to look at him with rapt attention. Hanging on to every word as he started to speak. Listening for anything that was out of the ordinary inside of this story.

“Chest with a precious necklace. We had it under lock and key, and the chest itself was screwed into the very wood of the caravan. The locket inside simply went missing. It was there last night when we arrived in town, but this morning when we opened the chest the locket was gone.” Etel looked at Kylantha’s grandmother. “That’s it right?”

“That’s all you told me, and I have asked my questions. But I am curious. Kyl, do you have anything that you want Master Etel to clarify before we go looking for this item?” Her grandmother offered her a gentle smile, gesturing. It gave her permission.

She thought for a long moment, eyes trailing around the room before she nodded and looked at the caravan master. “Sir, did your guards see anything?”

Etel shook his head. “I pulled in them for questioning. None of them saw anything. If your thought process goes to that they are the ones who stole it, toss that out of your heads. They’re loyal men, good friends of mine. I wouldn’t have them as guards if they were not.”

Kylantha nodded to herself. “And the chest, was the bottom cut out? Or was it all as it should be?”

She glanced at her grandmother, who offered an encouraging nod. She was smiling as she watched Kylantha. That kind, warm, grandmotherly smile that Kylantha never felt like she deserved.

“Kinthara, this  is not the girl you led me to believe she was!” Etel said with a laugh. “She doesn’t let anything drop does she? As for the question, the bottom was not cut out.”

Kylantha’s grandmother laughed softly, shaking her head. “Everything I told you about her was true Etel. You might have just interpreted it strangely.” She glanced at her granddaughter. “Is there anything else Kyl? Or should we go investigate the scene?”

Where there any other questions? Kylantha paused, she felt like that was a test. To see if she was ready for something. What happened if she said no? Was that a pass? She did not know. She was silent as she thought. It was a question she had to answer it.

“No more questions.” She said after a moment. “Thank you for your time Etel.”

Her grandmother nodded. “Wonderful job Kylantha.” She said after a moment. “Etel, I will be back after we find this for the matter of payment. Okay?”

“I know you’re good for it Kinthara. Take all the time you need in finding it.” He said witha  chuckle as he sat down. “We’ll be here all week.”

A few minutes later, Kylantha and her grandmother were at a wagon on the inside of the circle of wagons. It was one that could be set up like a stall. A portable counter to show goods on, with a canopy that could protect them and customers from rain and sun alike.

Another human worked the stand. Probably in her mid-fourties. She wore a practical, but well made outfit. Pants and a shirt, the pants brown, the shirt white. She tossed her long black hair behind her as she saw the two elves approaching and smiled, wrinkles crinkling next to her gray eyes.

“And what can I do for you two!” She asked with a small chuckle, leaning against the wagon, and gesturing to her wares.

“We’re here about the stolen locket,” Kylantha said at the conclusion of the question. Her eyes moving over this womans wares. Hats in various styles and fashions in seemingly every color imaginable lined the wagons poles. Jewlery made of precious stones and pearls lay on the wagon itself. Rings, earrings, and necklaces. It was truely a wonderful sight. The riches that this one wagon contained was something to behold in and of itself.

Kylantha’s grandmother chuckled. “Please excuse my granddaughter straightforwardness. I typically choose to go for a bit of conversation before stating that we’re investigating something but…”

Kylantha felt herself wilt. Shrinking down into her already small frame. She had been asked a question right? So she should answer. Staying silent would have been rude. Her eyes slowly drew towards the ground as she listened to her grandmother speaking. It didn’t sound like words anymore. It was just sounds.

She could never express how this felt when it happened. The feeling of utter failure that consumed her. An all consuming darkness that made it impossible for her to listen. An all consuming silence that made it impossible for her to see. She wanted to sink to her knees, but moving in and of itself felt impossible. She could have been standing up, laying down, or falling through the air and never would have known it.

She felt a pressure on her back and jumped. Glancing around she found herself looking into her grandmothers kind face, into her green eyes. How long had she been like that? Trapped in her own darkness and despair. She could not say. It felt like it had been hours though, maybe it had only been a few seconds.

“Kyl,” Her grandmother asked softly. “Are you okay?”

She did not want to speak. Questions however, demanded answer from her. However much she despised how they made her answer no matter what. They… she could not think about the they. She simply had to follow their rules. “Better now.” She said. The honest truth.

With a nod her grandmother turned back to the woman. “Thank you for the information that you gave us. If it’s okay with you, we’re going to investigate the chest now.”

The human, Kylantha only just realized she had not caught her name, nodded with a smile. “Of course Kinthara. You know that Etel has the key?”

Kinthara laughed softly, as she looked at the woman. “Helen, I don’t need any key.” She looked at Kylantha. “Granddaughter, do you want to pick the lock, or inspect the underside of the wagon?”

Kylantha blinked. “Inspect the underside?” She asked back. “But didn’t Master Etel say that nothing was out fo the ordinary there?”

“He did.” Her grandmother smiled. “But we need to cover all our bases as well, and that means checking the underside of the carriage.”

Kylantha frowned thinking. “I’ll check the underside grandmother, if that’s okay with you?”

Again that warm smile made it Kylantha’s way. One that Kylantha wanted to feel so badly. She wanted it to peirce the cold darkness that was so close to the surface that even when it was scared away, made it so that not even the warmpth of her grandmothers smile could touch her. A terrible feeling and yet it was all that could be felt.

“Of course Kyl.” Her grandmother turned. “Let’s get to solving this mystery!” Her voice was excited, and even though she never walked or spoke like the age she was, she suddenly looked two centuries younger.

With a nod, Kylantha slipped underneath the wagon. She blinked as her eyes, elven in nature, quickly adjusted to the new light setting, allowing her to see details that those not of elven heritage might not be able to without a light source.

“Do you need me to knock where the chest is?” Her grandmothers voice came from above. “To give a feeling of where you should look?”

“Please?” She responded. “Thank you.” Quickly followed as she heard the knock, and lightly placed her hands on the wood above to follow the vibrations to where they were the strongest.

She started to inspect the wood, as she heard the telltale signs of her grandmother starting to pick at the lock of the chest. She gave the lock a minute to withstand the genius of her grandmother. She expected it to be open within fifteen seconds. 

During the short time she had, she ran her hand along the planks of wood that made up the floor of the wagon. Hard oak it looked like, wonderfully treated and maintained. The varnish immaculate even here on the underside of the wagon, where it should be at its worst. Indeed she found no signs of cuts or new patches to suggest the bottom had been taken out from the chest.

She ran her fingers over the bolts that held the chest in. The heads of the bolts. She paused.

“Grandmother?” She called. “Somethings off.” The click of the lock followed. Thirty seconds had passed, a well made lock.

“What is- oh.” Her grandmother paused. “What do you see that’s off Kyl?”

“These bolts are on wrong.” She called from underneath the wagon. “They should be the other way right? The nuts should be underneath the wagon, the bolt heads on top?”

There was a three count. “Excellent work grandaughter.” Her mother said with a laugh. “Truely excellent work! Come out please.”

It took a few moments even for Kylantha to slip out from under the wagon. This time her attention focused on the chest she had not really looked at earlier. A dark black wood. She could not be sure if it was naturally that color or stained to look like that yet. Not without a lot of time and more inspection. She had never really gotten the hang of identifying woods.

Her grandmother watched her. “So what does this tell us Kylantha?” She asked after a moment. “Given everything we know?”

Kylantha pursed her lips, and glanced at her grandmother, then at Helen, who had continued to watch the entier situation. She paused after a moment. She knew Helen did she not? No she had never met the woman before, though she did look earily familiar. Especially with that dark hair, those gray eyes, and that slightly upturned nose that did not make her look snobby.

She blinked and refocused. “It means that the box was taken off by someone, and probably the bolts were put in the wrong way.” She said after a moment. “The problem is, in order to take the box off you’d need to have the lid open.” 

Her grandmother continued to watch her, as if expecting more. Kylantha shrugged. “I’m not really sure if there’s anything else Grandmother. I’m stumped here.”

Her grandmother smiled. “You’ve done well regardless.” She turned to Helen. “Helen, are there more than one of these chests in the camp?”

The human woman paused, before nodding. “Yes, there’s a wagon full of them. We keep them because they’re decently sturdy, and allow us to transport valuable goods separately from others if we so choose.”

“Do they all use the same key?” Her grandmother was truely smiling now. As if she understood everything that was happening anymore.

Helen nodded. “Yes, all use Master Etel’s. Which he keeps around his neck at all times. It’s not the safest of safe lockboxes, but it’s the best option we have and we haven’t had any other problems with it.”

“Has anyone come around with a splinter? Or requested a sledgehammer?” Kylantha could see the water wheel of thoughts turning inside her grandmothers brain as she desperately tried to follow the train of thought. What could all of that together mean. What did her grandmother see that she could not?

“Not that I-” She froze. “Yes.” She said after a moment. “My son Taylor had a large black splinter-”

“In his finger this morning?” Kylantha asked, interrupting. Causing her grandmother to look at her in surprise. Indeed. Kylantha had surprised herself with the need to ask the question.

“Yes how did you know?” Helen asked, frowning gently.

Kylantha shrugged, she had noticed the family resemblance apparently, but not what it meant. “He and I had a short chat like fifteen minutes ago. He asked me if I wanted to have a longer conversation with him. Maybe at the bakery.”

Her grandmother was looking at her, slightly astounded. “What did you tell him?” She asked, and then frowned. Looking like she disliked herself for even asking the question, but it was too late. The words were out of her mouth, and so Kylantha’s answer was iminante.

“No, and no.” She said curtly. “Though I do not really see why that matters.”

Helen paused. “By the creator I didn’t think he’d actually do it.” She sighed. “He mentioned… that he was going to try to… make a move to court you as we were comming here Kylantha.”

Kylantha froze, then looked at Helen curiously. “But he’s… and I’m… neither of us are adults by any margin… mine far larger than his…”

Her grandmother moved and placed a hand on Kylantha’s shoulder. “Younger humans and Elves… always have a difficult time with that point. Even the older elves sometimes see human adults as children instead of as equals. Do not think less of him for this. Though, indeed. I think we know where our missing locket is.”

They found Taylor at the bakery. Kylantha stayed outside as her grandmother went in and brought him out to herself an Helen. The two woman and one elven girl looking at him with disappointment. It was a long moment before anyone spoke, and when the silence was broken it was by Helen.

“Do you want to admit what happened now? Or Shall we present the evidence?” His mother asked softly.

Taylor paused, then looked at all three of them. “This is about the locket isn’t it.”

Helen raised an eyebrow. “So you are the one who took it? Why? Was it just to impress someone?”

“Not just someone!” Taylor shot back. “Kylantha.” He looked at her. “She notices no one it seems like. I’ve seen how she acts at the festivals that are thrown here. Yes I only get to see her once a year if I’m lucky, I just thought that maybe I’d have a chance.”

Kylantha shrunk back a little. It was her fault that he had stolen it then. It was because of her actions that this locket had gone missing. A pit of dispare opened in her stomach at that. She was the reason why he had done what he had done.

“Kylantha?” Her grandmothers voice ripped her out of her guilt. “Do you have anything to say to Taylor?”

She looked at him. “I’m sorry that I made you do that. You should give the locket back. I’m going to go home.” She looked at her grandmother. “May I? There’s some locks that I can fix today while you shop?”

As her grandmothers green eyes met hers she felt as if she saw something. Inside of her grandmothers green eyes she felt as if she saw true sadness. Even as her grandmother nodded, and Kylantha turned and walked away.

That evening her grandmother returned home to three fixed locks ready for inspection, and a bubbling pot of potato soup. Kylantha had made that first. Had it on the stove for hours at this point, adjusting it whenever she had needed a break from working on the locks.

Yet her grandmother did not find Kylantha tending to the soup, or in the workshop. Instead she found Kylantha in her room. She leaned on the doorframe, as she looked at Kylantha. Who felt those green eyes on her as she looked in a different direction.

A brown cloak hung, the only ornamentation of the small room. It was torn and shredded. As if by claws. Yet it hung there, two silver leaves adored either side of where it would connect with a small chain around where her shoulders were.

“I brought you something.” Her grandmother said softly. “And your soup smells delicious.” Kylantha glanced at her grandmother and nodded. Not registering what had been said to her yet. Not at the moment. Her mind too full of memories of that cloak. Of when she had worn that cloak for the final time.

The bed sank as her grandmother sat down next to her. “You did a good job today. Don’t you think so?”

“No.” Kylantha said softly. “I didn’t think about… whatever you did. I never would have guessed… whatever led to your line of questioning. I still don’t know how he did it.”

“He switched boxes.” Her grandmother replied. “The bolt heads could be pulled down enough they wouldn’t turn when he turned the nut… once the nut was off he pushed the bolts up into the box. And stole the entire box. Moving off to smash it with the locket inside. Then he grabbed another box, and put it on, but was either sloppy or forgetful with which direction the bolts went, and he put them on the wrong way.” She smiled at her granddaughter. “It’s okay that you don’t think like me Kyl… you don’t have to. You’re still young. You did a wonderful job. Think of all you noticed today.”

Kylantha listened to the explanation with a half open ear. Of course that had been how it was done. Why could she not have seen it? 

They sat in silence for a moment. “Come downstairs.” Her grandmother said. “Let’s eat dinner together. Your locks were fixed perfectly.”

Kylantha nodded silently, standing and following her grandmother down the stairs on light feet. She froze however when she reached the entrance to the small kitchen. At her place at the table, was a locket.

It was oval in shape, made from gold, with a silver inlay of a moonflower on its cover. A true masterwork of art. It’s chain looked to be made from silver as well, thin and dainty.

She looked at her grandmother who smiled. “It was always for you.” She said softly. “Happy seventy-sixth birthday.”

She was seventy six? This was her birthday? Emotions crashed into her as she walked to the locked to look at it for a long moment. Before walking to her grandmother, pulling her into a tight embrace, and starting to weep.

[h-s-moonshadow]

The Mystery of Healing: Story 1 - Part 2

Fifteen minutes later, Kylantha was moving through the streets of Idolna, towards the main square where the traveling merchants would have set up their stalls. She saw their wagons as she walked down the street, colorful tops marking them as the wealthy traders.

Indeed even as she approached, she felt out of place. Her shirt was wrinkled and plain, her trousers much the same. Guards patrolled, not the town guard, they did not really have one here. After all, who would want to steal from a town with so few people in it. Everyone knew everyone. When something went wrong inside the town, it was often the townspeople who decided what to do with the guilty party.

And a party was almost always guilty. Be it the wolves that had taken Heldars sheep the winter previous, or the group of teens that had burnt down five houses the previous summer. There was always a guilty party. Even if Kylantha had not been in town to witness those events, she knew of them. There was precious little news.

What news there was recently, was of her. She tried to be sneaky, keeping to the shadows. Her small frame was useful as she slipped through an alleyway trying to get into the camp without being spotted by anyone. It would make her life so much easier. No need to talk, or to answer questions. She could find her grandmother and then she would do all the talking. 

Her training came in use during that time. As she slipped from shadow to shadow, through the easily permeable barrier of caravan wagons and into the caravan proper. As she started to look for her grandmother. She needed to figure out where…

“Kylantha?” The voice made her jump. It was not her grandmothers, rather a more masculine tone coming from the nearest wagon.

She turned to face the speaker so fast flowers flew from her hair- quickly replaced by budding new plants. Even as the ones that had left her floated to the ground. Landing perfect and beautiful. She took a moment to crush them with her foot.

The man who had spoken to her was human. Perhaps a boy no older than, was it eighteen by human standards? He was no adult. She had probably lived through multiple of his lifetimes. His hair was short and straight, cut in an almost militaristic fashion. He had an upturned nose, but not a snobby attitude as his green eyes took her in through large glasses. 

Glasses she could see herself in. Long black hair covered in a verity of flowers, dark brown skin and green eyes. The major features of her thin, small form. She regarded him, noting with curiosity a small bandage on one of his fingers.

“Are you going to say anything?” He asked. Leaning forwards, looking concerned.

“I was not planning on it Taylor,” She replied softly, looking down. Her answer was quick and precise. “Do you need anything from me?”

He shook his head. “No, not at all I’m just surprised to see you. Your grandmother said you had a more difficult job this morning.”

No questions that time. Good, she did not need to respond. “Do you know where she is?” She asked, trying to get away before he could ask any questions she really did not want to answer.

Taylor frowned and leaned forwards, adjusting his glasses slightly. “She’s with Caravan Master Etel, in the main tent.”

“Thank you,” Kylantha started to leave, moving towards the main tent when.

“Why are you not wearing your cloak?” Taylor called after her.

Kylantha froze and turned. Fighting against the urge to answer the question. It had been directly aimed at her. She could not pretend otherwise. Therefore her fight failed. “I don’t have a cloak to wear.”

“Do you want to go to the bakery? Talk about it? After whatever you do with your grandmother that is.” His voice was so kind, so warm. It was like that sip of hot tea that you could take right after the first snowfall. The questions were instead what happened when you spilled scalding water on your skin.

“No and no.” She said after a moment. “Thank you for the offer.” With that, Kylantha dashed towards the tent as fast as she could. Trying to not listen for any more questions posed to her.

“We don’t know where it’s gone Kinthara.” The deep voice of Caravan Master Etel could be heard even outside of the tent. Kylantha had not been meaning to eavesdrop, but when that single sentence was spoken she could not help but stop to listen.

“You want me to find it?” The voice of Kinthara, Kylantha’s grandmother, replied. “You are completely sure that this is in town?”

Part of her wondered if she should be here. After all, she was eavesdropping on her grandmother and a highly respected merchant. If she entered the tent then they might stop, and what they were talking about seemed important.

“Compleatly sure,” She listened as Etel sighed, and then evidently took a seat. She heard the thump of someone falling back into a padded chair. “Kinthara, I don’t have anyone else to turn to here. It’s certainly not the most important of items but…”

“My granddaughter and I can find it Etel,” Her grandmothers voice was gentle and comforting. “You need not worry about it. She should be…” Her voice faded.

Kylantha paused, and then noticed where she was hiding. The sun was hitting her causing her shadow to fall into the tent. The material the tent was made of was evidently thinner than she thought.

“How much of that were you here for Kyl?” Her grandmothers voice, accented by a chuckle floated out of the tent. Musical as always.

With a small sigh Kylantha straightned and walked to the entrance flaps slipping inside. The tent was sparsely decorated, with only a utilitarian wooden desk, a few plush chairs, and a blue and gold patterned rug that while fine, could use with a good cleaning.

“Only about the last thirty seconds grandmother,” Her voice was soft and apologetic as she looked at Etel. “I’m sorry sir, I was interested by the conversation.”

Etel smiled at her. A tall and broad orc, with almost teal skin. He had apparently never been the athletic type. Instead focusing on trade, he was well fed, but not to a point where the fine suit he wore looked out of place on him.

“I would expect as such. Your grandmother barely said hello when she heard what had happened. I half expected that she wouldn’t let me even tell her what was going on.”

“Come now Etel.” Her Grandmother waved a hand with a small laugh. “You can’t tell me a precious necklace has been stolen and not expect me to lock onto that.”

Kylantha nodded in resect, her eyes finding the ground again. “So if I may, what happened?”

[h-s-moonshadow]

The Mystery of Healing: Story 1-Part 1

The smell of eggs filled the house as they cooked in the pan. Placed there by close to expert hands, they sizzled over the small stove powered by a well tended fire. Light had not yet started to stream in the houses windows, but that was fine. Kylantha enjoyed the moments of quiet she had in the darkness of a morning.

She cooked for two this morning. An odd feeling. She often felt as if she needed to add more eggs, bake bread to prepare toast, toss a larger salad for lunch.The short elven girl tended to the two portions of food carefully. Cooking her eggs so the yolk would still run, and the other portion just a tad longer. Her grandmother was not out of her room yet.

Pursing her lips, Kylantha added some salt to the eggs. Then nodded to herself, letting the eggs cook on the pan for a moment longer, as she moved to cut the fruit she had laid out earlier.

A small bunch of strawberries, blueberries, and blackberries were in a small strainer in the kitchen. She walked over and used the indoor water pump to wash them. Such a luxury, she had never thought that she would get to live in a house with something like that. Yet here, in her grandmothers small home, she had almost grown accustomed to it.

Turning, she frowned as she looked back at the eggs. She moved back over, took them off the fire, and carefully picked a small rose off of the ground. She tossed it into the fire.

Focusing she slipped the eggs onto two plates, decorating them beautifully with assorted fruits. She wished that they had melons but the last shipment to the town of Idolna had been rotting when they got here. Much to the merchants disappointment.

The elf was quiet as she carefully took a seat at the kitchen table. It was a finely made thing. Something one might expect to see in a mansion and not a small house on the edge of a poor town. Inlay with bronze, it sat four. Though more often than not, only two sat at it.

Most of the house was fine. Wooden floors, wooden walls. A stone fireplace that blazed in the winter, and soft beds with down pillows. Though its exterior might not have been the most impressive, the interior belied its owner. Kylantha’s grandmother.

A grandmother that was supposed to be awake by now. They had a lot of orders to fill today, and though Kylantha was bad at them, she wanted to make sure that she did her part.

“Good morning Kylantha.” A deep feminine voice said as a taller woman, significantly taller than Kylantha swept into the room. Dark skin, with short hair that was cut as close as possible to her head as it could be, and deep green eyes. Some might have described Kylantha’s grandmother as “once beautiful”. They would have noted the deep wrinkles on her thin face, the one’s on her eyes and cheeks, and spoke of the lost beauty of youth.

Especially other elves. Kylantha only being seventy-five, she was not even an adult by the standerds of the elves. Yet her grandmother had lived over ten times her lifetime. Wrinkles on an elf were a rare thing to see. Yet Kylantha never understood how her grandmother could be considered anything less than beautiful.

That was even ignoring the tattoos, the beautiful art that adorned her grandmothers skin. A tapestry of great deeds, of legends. Of tales that Kylantha had heard of, yet would never hear all of due to the shere volume of them.

She nodded to her grandmother silently. A sign of respect. The only sign that she could pay. Waiting for her to sit down and start to eat before she herself did. Only when her grandmother next spoke did she move.

“Excellent job on breakfast as always Kylantha.” She said in that voice that had once calmed dragons. A voice as powerful as the sea itself.

Kylantha nodded gently. “Thank you Grandmother.” Her own voice felt strange in her lips. It was never truely her own. At least it never felt like it. Her voice was this soft quiet thing that a soft breeze ripped away from her. It was a leaf chewed away by bugs trying its best to stay on the branch of a tree that had long since died.

Her grandmother regarded her as they ate. It was silence. It felt like most things between them were silent. Kylnatha hated that. Yet, here she could never bring herself to break it. The silence was a comfort. A comfort to her. Broken only by the other comfort of her grandmothers voice.

“What do we have today?” Kind. Kylantha did not deserve the kindness of that voice. Yet her grandmother gave it to her anyway. Without hesitating, Kylantha started to speak.

“The Televana has needed us for the past week, his lock needs cleaned. Says it’s gotten rusty due to all the rain,” She was quick with her words. Practical.

“The merchants want to buy from us. Preferably some of our best stock. They say that the last time they got robbed, instead of taking any of the valuable things the bandits took the locks you made them.”

Her grandmother chuckled. “It’s a lie they use to justify selling my locks to people. They make most of the profit from them. I’ve had their order ready since I heard they were coming back to town.”

Kylantha blinked. “May I ask a question then?” 

“Yes, of course.” Her grandmother smiled back at her. Green eyes full of gentle care and joy.

“Why lie about it then? If they know you’re find with themes selling your product, then why do they lie?” Kylantha leaned forwards, ignoring her food out of pure curiosity.

“First of all granddaughter, your flowers are getting into your food.”

Kylantha blinked then realized her hair, which was coated in flowers, had falled into her eggs. She quickly swiped her hair back causing the tulips and violets to fall from her hair and land on the ground. It would have been a relief had new flowers not sprouted and grown to full bloom almost instantly. She could not remember the last time she had truely seen just her hair. Not since the flowers started to grow.

“Second of all, they’re worried that I’ll start to charge them more. Want a bigger cut of the profits. As if I don’t have more money than I could ever need living here.” Her grandmother chuckled softly. “So it becomes a little game we play. He pretends he’s not selling them, and I go along with it because it’s fun. Does that make sense?”

“Yes Grandmother.” Kylantha responded almost instantly. She nearly wilted at the look she got. Not that it was a bad look, no. It was that look of pity that her grandmother gave her each time she answered a question about herself. Like her understanding.

“Are there any other important things that we need to attend to today?” Her grandmother asked with a smile. “Things we need to prepare for later in the week?”

Kylantha frowned and leaned back. Wondering if there was indeed something that they needed to do. Yet no other pressing matters entered her mind. She shook her head gently. “I don’t believe so grandmother.” She said after a moment. “Nothing important is happening this week.”

“I see,” Her grandmother sighed and nodded. Standing and brushing the wrinkles out of her shirt. “Go start to check over our orders for the day. Once you’ve made sure the merchants will get everything, go to Televana’s and fix his lock. Take a second one just in case the tumblers are too rusted. Don’t charge for the installation. Just the cleaning.”

She blinked. “You’re going to wash the dishes grandmother?” Kylantha knew that her tone was questioning. She simply did not believe what she was seeing.

“Of course I am Kylantha.” She said with a small laugh. “I’m going to start doing it every time that you cook a meal. I have to do my share around the house too you know.”

“But your-” Kylantha started.

“My magic? And how often do I even use that anymore. It was useful during my adventuring days. Now it simply gets things done to fast. I don’t get to enjoy simple pleasures.” She smiled at Kylantha. A smile filled with grandmotherly warmpth. “Go. Tend to Televana. I’ll meet you at the merchants.”

Kylantha blinked, the full request hitting her. She was to go to Televana? Alone? What if she messed up? Then she would get the blame. Start to ruin her grandmothers perfect reputation.

Without another word. She went to do as her grandmother asked.

“You’re really done?” Televana’s voice cut through the air like a hot knife through butter. “That was barely five minutes!” The tall minotaur said with a snort. “Can’t believe you’ve only been at this a month.”

“Yes, all done.” Kylantha stowed the lock she had needed to in her bag of tools. Screwdrivers, a hammer, some screws a nail. And lockworking tools for picking and cleaning locks. A traveling locksmith. That was what she was working to becoming. Televana had not said anything else that needed responding to, so she remained quiet.

She waited as he tried the door. Wondering if her testing had been rough enough for the seven foot tall muscular carpenter that supplied most of the towns fine furniture. She did not look him in the eyes. Not just because she was almost two feet shorter, but because she did not want to look up. The cloak and hood that covered her gave her just enough anonymity here. Even if it also made her stand out.

She heard the door open and shut twice as she carefully and meticulously packed her tools away.

“That’s better than it has been in years!” Televana said with a chuckle. “Knew I should have gotten your grandma to instal the last one.”

Kylantha nodded as she stood. “If you need anything. Send a message. I can be back to fix anything that I might have done wrong. Don’t want you to have a non-funcional door.”

“I’m sure that I will not. Lock and handle feels better than it has in years,” He chuckled. “Wouldn’t call you anyway. Too bullheaded.” Snorting at his own joke, he walked over to Kylantha as she picked up her bag. “How much do I owe you?” Note: Sigils and Willows **IS STILL HAPPENING**. I simply needed to take a small break, and this kinda started to come out of me as I did. So I hope you enjoy as I post between this and Sigils.

[h-s-moonshadow]

Whoops

Might not be able to write for the next few days- but consider this post a way to ask me questions about the story if you so choose.

[h-s-moonshadow]

Sigils and Willows: Part 14

Orsa looked at the list that Nomira had given her, it was fairly extensive. Detailing questions that when Orsa asked why she needed to ask her father, Nomira had simply stated that she did not wish to ask the king any more questions that he felt might insult his intellect.

Orsa sighed as she pushed open her father’s study, and looked at him. He reagaurded her with those ruby red eyes. The eyes that she shared with him. It was hard not to shrink in front of those eyes. Yet somehow, knowing what looks Nomira could give helped. She has not expected those silvery eyes to turn so passionate.

With a gentle sigh she walked to take a seat and face her father. “I have a list of questions father.” She said. “They are from Nomira.”

“The spy?” The king said raising an eyebrow. “What does she want? And why is she asking questions of me. You have the second most authority in this kingdom.”

“She felt that since I outplayed you in her current assignment, anything that is proclaimed by me for the first month or so is unwise. Therefore, it is up to the highest power in the kingdom to answer these questions and make these determinations.” Orsa paused. “She was rather insistent about this.”

Orsa’s father paused as she proffered the paper, and looked over it. His eyes narrowed with each and every word. “She wants to appoint you a full retunue of servants. She’s wondering if she’ll have a wage, or if clothing will come from a fund. If how she’ll eat. Orsa, did you read over these questions?” His voice was growing irritated as his eyes narrowed. “She’ll completely rework how you’ve been living. She’s going to be in control of your life if we allow any of this. Why did you bring this to me?”

Orsa knew that. Each of the questions had been the result of an afternoon long interrogation session by the teal haired princess. Orsa had answered all the questions. She had given no orders to stop, though by the end it had seemed like Nomira had wanted her to be giving that order.

Nomira knew nothing of handmaidens. She knew nothing of their duties. Yet she did feel in control of the situation. When she had told Nomira to back away from her, the Princess of Galdraz had complied. 

“She does not control me. She simply feels that since she is now appointed to a princess, I should finally be treated by one in her standards.” Orsa raised an eyebrow. “She obeys the orders that I give her. That sigil prevents her from harming us.”

“If she gets you bathmaidens one of them could stick a knife in your back.” The king growled.

Orsa rolled her eyes. “Then flood her hiring pool with people we know are loyal. I know you’re going to do it anyway, hell she knows it. Do whatever you want to keep me safe if that is what you are worried about.”

“I can’t kill her or exile her anymore so I cannot be sure that you’re safe. You’ve invited an unknown into our household. One that could wipe us out if we’re not careful. If she manages to undo that sigil-” 

“Where would she get that blood?” Orsa retoreted. “Where would she get the blood that would allow her to reverse the sigil father. You going to give it to her herself? Or do you think I would be idiotic enough to do something like that?”

The king prused his lips. “I’ll look through the questions and have answers for her by tomorrow.”

Orsa nodded. “She said by next week she’ll have something new going on here. For me.” The princess stood. “Thank you father.”

The king looked up at her. “I love you Orsa. Please understand that I’m trying to protect you.”

“I do understand that father.” She murmured. “I just think you’re trying to protect me from the wrong person.” And with that, Orsa slipped away.

Trying to protect me from the wrong person. The thought echoed in King Avalon’s head. Words spoken to him by his daughter. Someone who before today had never acted as rebelously as she had in the past hours. Who never would have invoked that rite after what their people had been through. King Avalon sighed, starting to look through the list of questions, well they were more like demands.

He had to admit that the imposter princess was good at her job. Her questions were thorough. He sighed and started to work through the list. Careful to notate as he did so. Yes Nomira would be paid, half the salary that she was entitled to. The other half would come at the end of her reformation. It was a position taken in by the choice of both people.

Nomira had the full rights to do whatever she wished involving staff members of the house. The crown would be responsible for paying them. Therefore they would set the wages, but Nomira could appoint and hire people to be in Orsa’s service as she pleased.

Avalon looked over the rest of the questions, some about food and clothing for Nomira. Provided by the castle unless she wished to buy some herself. Use of the library in her free time, available except for the restricted books which needed a writ from himself if they were to be read, same as anyone else. Return of her personal belongings. He paused at that.

Then he stood, adjusting his suit coat. It was late in the evening. He should probably get some form of rest soon, and yet. He paused sitting back down and summoning the power of sigils to his finger.

He closed his eyes as the powers of the dragons flowed through him. A power that could be translated into the air, or stone. Some preferred to use a quill to write their sigils, it was an elegant method. Avalon however had never gotten used to the idea. He was a profoundly unelegant man.

Tracing a circle in the air, he carefully started to add small instructions in the pattern of the symbol, an asymmetric pattern, as many were describing what he wanted to bring to him. He needed only put bag, contents, and books in the symbol. His mind was focused enough on the specifics that the rest did not matter.

The red sigil flashed in the air and Nomira’s beat up backpack, with all its contents, and her five books appeared on the desk in front of him.

It was the bag and books that had convinced him that Nomira was a fraud. That whatever she spoke of she was trying to gain something from this place. From Untine. Perhaps a dragon heart so that she too could have the power of sigils. After all, the bag was not something that a princess would have.

At least not in the experience of Avalon. Yet the list of questions was something that could not be ignored. A piece of evidence that stared him in the face like nothing else. It was so in depth that the only option was that she was either a princess, or a handmaiden herself before she arrived here. However she had.

He could not reverse his punishment, nor the right of reformation now. Orsa had made her choice and he his. They both needed to make sure they stayed the path on this particular topic. If either one of them slipped then any of the political factions in the city would see it as weakness.

He took the books on sigils, and the notebook. Placing them on the shelf behind him. Before calling a servant to send the beaten up leather backpack to Nomira’s room, along with his answers to her questions.

Darkness engulf Eden Nevermore. It always engulfed him. It had since his birth. Since the first ever summoning of Nightshade. The dark wolf that lurked in the darkness of the city wall invisible to all but him.

To many darkness was a thing that lurked. It sayed in shadows or outside a home. Only moving in when invited. It creped across the land every night, and it retreated from the light each day. Yet to Eden the night was preferable. The type of darkness that it brought, lit by the light of the green moon was friendly. Friendlier than the darkness of men.

The darkness of men’s eyes when they looked at him. The darkness of men’s tongues when they spoke to him. The darkness of their hearts when he asked for even a modicum of help. The true darkness that engulfed him was that of men. The bucher’s look at him and Nightshade haunted his mind.

It was certainly not the first of such looks, nor would it be the last. He had suffered hundreds, perhaps thousands of those looks in his life. He would suffer many more. That would not change what he was. It would not change who he was.

As the moon reached it’s peak he looked around. Waiting for the prince he was almost confidant would not arrive. One did not simply decide to go on a journey with a stranger in less than a few hours. Let alone a stranger like Eden.

His gaze penetrated the darkness, allowing him to see further than most. He waited in the silence that was as loud as anything else. For the silence of a sleeping city was still filled with noise. The noise of the animals who did not sleep, the people who could not rest, and the wind that did not break. 

And suddenly that silence was broken, broken by the sound of two men. One the Prince with a battleaxe, backpack, and teal hair. The other, what Orion assumed would be the willomancer. With a backpack, and brown hair. Orion nodded to the two, and without a word started to walk down the road.

Nightshade followed after him silently. The wolf’s senses a part of his own. A creature made from darkness yet able to be seen in the light. A pure form of corruption that was linked to Eden’s own corrupted soul. The result of Eden’s hubris. A corrupted soul, one that hurt his soulbound. One that tormented him.

The princes paused, then followed. Neither asked a single question. They allowed silence to reign. In the day he would speak to them. But for the night, it was his time to think. It was their time to be silent. Their travel to Untine had begun. The End Of Act 1, of Sigils and Willows P.S. I hope you've been enjoying Sigils and Willows! This is only the end of Act 1, there's so much more plot left in store. I might get another surprise out today! All in all, remember to be kind. Not nice, kind.

[h-s-moonshadow]

Sigils and Willows: Part 13

Orion found Halnoa not in his room, but instead in the castle’s medical ward. The north wing of the castle was devoted to medicine, a completely functioning hospital that could be used by the people anytime they needed. Five doctors took shifts and were on constant call. Orion himself had helped a few times in this place. Using his knowledge of herbs and sicknesses to help the flow. 

Walking through the many white beds with curtains partitioning them, he moved towards the room the doctor on staff had told him of. Where Halnoa would be. It was nearing the evening, and with that, nearing their time to leave. 

Halnoa stood in a small stone room with a single small window. There was a white bed inside of it, and a side table covered in dust. It looked like no one had walked in in many years. Orion watched Halnoa, who had his eyes closed, head bowed towards the ground. He had never seen the prince act as he was.

When Halnoa opened his eyes he paused, then turned to Orion. “Hey.” He said, in a somber tone. “How are you?”

“Ready for our little excursion.” Orion said softly glancing around the room. “What is this place?”

Halnoa glanced around. “One my sister and I have ordered never be changed. Not until we’re ready to forget what happened in this room. What we did.” He looked down at the bed, and Orion could see pools of tears start to form in Halnoa’s eyes.

“If I need to leave you Prince, I will, simply say the words and I’ll be-” 

“No,” Halnoa’s voice was firm and commanding. Something her rarely managed. The voice of a current prince and king yet to come. “You can stay, though I will not talk about this room. Perhaps at a later date I will, but for now no. The memories are still far too painful.”

Orion nodded and glanced around. “Are you ready to leave? Do you know when we will be going?”

Halnoa nodded gently, taking a breath. “Yes, and yes. This is going to be a difficult journey.” He looked around. “I might no longer be prince by the end of it, it’s entierly possible that father has disowned me and found himself a new crown prince.” Halnoa shook his head, curly teal hair bouncing around his head. “I have to do this though.

Orion paused then moved forwards and gently hugged Halnoa. “This is the right thing to do for yourself. What would you do, if you never went after her?”

Halnoa paused, and Orion swore he heard a sniffle. Then the Prince of Galdraz hugged him. Hugged him so tightly he thought his ribs would crack. Orion held Halnoa as the prince started to cry onto Orion’s shoulder.

Orion was not used to having people cry on him. It had happened exactly once, this single time. And though he wanted to respond in a comforting way he simply did not know how to. How was he going to convey that this was something that was okay? That was an amost impossible task. So he held Halnoa in the hug. Feeling the prince’s muscular body pressed against him. The strong arms that so easily weilded an axe hold onto him. The stature that so contrasted Nomira’s support him.

Nomira had hugged him before, yet those hugs had always felt wrong. Performative. At least on his end. This hug felt like something far different than hugging the princess. It felt like hugging a stone pillar instead of a tree sapling. It was sturdy, proper, and more importantly, it was Halnoa.

Orion broke the hug, and out of instinct glanced at the ring on his finger. It had not shifted to red. That was good. He had been worried for a moment that that moment.

He glanced to Halnoa who was also looking at the ring. Whatever the moment had been had broken with the remembrance of it. No matter what that was. Orion was Nomira’s. He had been for a very long time. He sighed softly, then paused.

“What was your fight about?” He asked softly. Glancing at Halnoa. “The night before the wedding. What was your argument about?”

Halnoa looked away. “I don’t want to think about that Orion. Please. Let’s simply continue on. There’s no… there’s no reason to speak of that. It happened. I need to make sure she knows that I love her. Those are the important parts of all of this.”

Orion took a moment, then nodded. “Alright, see you in a few hours.” With that he stepped out of the eerily empty room that the crown prince and princess demanded be untouched. He walked down the rows of beds, some wet spots on the shoulder of his shirts.

Wet spots from the tears of a prince who missed his sister. Wet spots from someone that Orion had just worried he had broken his oaths to Nomira to early. They were not married yet after all, there was no heir.

There might never be an heir. Perhaps however, that was not a reason to break a promise. 

Halnoa had prepared everything he could think of. Rations from the kitchens, which he said he was taking to a scouting group. He did things like that, meanal tasks. It helped him keep his thoughts up. Simply because he was a prince did not make him above others. Indeed, he saw himself as one of the lowelest men in the kingdom, for he needed to serve everyone and his people.

As he waited in his room, backpack ready a pit started to form in his stomach. A pit of guilt. He was abandoning his people. The people that he had promised he would protect. Not for long, it was not as if there were policiy decisions that his parents asked him to make anyway. Two years baring the king and queens death would not make a difference in the slightest. 

Yet it would be two years without the promise of hope in the future. Two years of Halnoa and Nomira not advocating for better housing for those in the slums. Better wages. Arguing with their parents into the night. 

He sat in his room. Looking around the stark space. Remembering when they were children and Nomira came in in the dead of night. The two spending hours talking about what they could do to change things. How they could learn. Halnoa could become a mighty warrior, he could lead the charge against criminals, take them captive and show them a better way of life. 

Nomira would be the perfect princess. She could take on any foreign power and make a deal with them. Once she had Galdraz sorted, she had planed to take a trip to see the dragons. Halnoa smiled to himself as he walked over to his nightstand and opened the drawer.

Inside was a single object, a piece of paper with a sigil drawn on it. One she had given to him before the fall of the dragons. Before her dreams had been crushed. It was a square sigil. With markings that he did not recognize on it. She had told him it would bind them. It would bind them together so that they could never be apart. Even if she was ruling and he was out helping those people that she ruled.

He looked at the paper and then pulled it to his chest. Feeling those tears start again. Halnoa did not know what to do. Part of him wondered if Nomira was even still alive. If she was held hostage. There would be no way for him to know. No way to know that she was safe or dead until he saw her.

That was what cleared his mind. What made him stand up and carefully fold the paper with the sigil on it and place it in a small watertight pouch. Then hang that pouch around his neck with a leather chord. Nomira might never gain sigils. She was right however, that sigil would bind them together.

When the bell tolled eleven, Orion slipped out of his room and through the castle. Quiet as a mouse. 

When he reached the third servants entrance he froze. The queen, with her pale skin and long black hair stood, blocking the door. She had not been around much the past few days. Blocking all of Halnoa’s attempts to speak with her.

Her brown eyes were red and her cheeks tearstreaked. She looked at him with a betrayed expression. Standing taller in front of the door, her thin frame barely blocking it.

“You can’t go. I can’t loose both my children. Not again. I don’t care what your father says. I will not let you go.” She looked at Halnoa. “This kingdom needs you. All you’ll do for it. And you’ll throw it away?”

Halnoa looked at his mother and then glanced around. “I am doing what is best for the kingdom.” He replied. “I’m going to save the person who has done more than you ever thought you would allow her to.”

“That girl overstepped her bounds constantly.” The Queen spat back. “You were always the good one. The preferable one. You understood what duty meant.”

The venom in the Queen’s voice surprised Halnoa, and he took an involuntary step back. Before truly taking his mother in. And letting out a breath. Noting a bottle and glass on the ground that he had not seen before.

“Mother, let’s get you to bed.” He said softly. “Sleep, and please. Please understand that I have to do this.” He walked forwards and offered an arm for her to steady herself. “You know that Nomira is the best choice for this, better than anyone else. Especially me. I don’t have her political savvyness, the way she can spot loopholes in contracts.”

“She’s bullheaded. Stubborn. She refuses to stop studying stupid things even when she can’t possibly attain them,” The queen muttered taking his arm as he started to lead her back to his parent’s rooms. “She’s going to get herself killed there somehow, I just know it.

Halnoa let out a soft breath and let his mother continue to ramble as he led her back to her and his father’s rooms. Opening the door and gently walking her inside, helping her lay down on the bed. His father was already inside. He was not asleep, instead staring at the ceiling. He barely moved when Halnoa opened the door.

Turning away, he heard his father’s voice. “Bring her back son.” He said softly. “For us all, bring her back.”

Halnoa looked to his father, who had sat up and was looking at him. The middle aged king looking far older in the dim light of the bedroom. “I will father.” He said softly. “Safe and sound.”

With a nod the king lay back down, wrapping his arms around his wife. Halnoa turned, and started towards the door. He needed to get to Orion, so they could meet up with Eden. At the door to his parents bedroom he paused, glancing back. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” His father’s voice. Soft, barely audible. Yet it was there. Halnoa paused, a warmpth filling his chest. It was a strange moment. To know that his parents disagreed with his choice.

Yet at the very least his father supported him. A soft smile touched his lips as he closed the door, and moved to meet with Orion.