A Dynasty of Gold and Ivory

One: Orion of House Astraea

Black and White

Pyre Mountain: Two Years Later

He kissed his beloved once more before parting. His wife, Cassiopeia of House Leonia, held their first newborn daughter in her arms. A soft pink little thing wrapped in a blanket handwoven by his wife's favorite handmaiden, with purple flowers. The baby's cheeks were flushed from recently crying and her eyes darting back and forth from her mother to the bear of a man that towered over them, but the small orbs of violet looming over her made her screech. Gently, her mother with golden locks and hazel eyes cooed and shushed her. The screaming attracted two other servants who each held a boy, one being a year older than the other. A quiet black-haired boy that played with his newfound teeth, and the other blonde with sharp gold eyes like his mother. Beside the woman with the blacked haired babe was a pale gold-covered child that ran in circles before crashing into the leg of his father. Gold hair tousled in the spring breeze. Falling to the ground, he was quickly scooped up by his father and put over his shoulder.

"I'll take him with me," Orion said, trying to remove the dirt caked on the little boy's knees. "It's been a while since our queen has seen him. She'd love to see how he's grown."

His wife was taken aback. "Why? He's dirty and will tottle off as soon as you lose sight of him." She gave her daughter to another servant before reaching for her son. "You don't have to take him. He'll get fussy, then you'll be upset and wish you left him."

Those hazel eyes bored into his violet ones, but he didn't relent. Instead, he stared at the very eyes that enamored him for all those years. He loved her blonde hair, how it shone in the sun, and how it tickled his nose in bed. He loved the eyes that scolded him almost every day but lovingly did so and how pink her skin turned at every remark he made about her being descended from the goddess of beauty and how their children would be so beautiful even the gods would be jealous and wanting. He loved most how she bore his children.

"Ma," Cygnus, the gold boy that hung upside down, uttered, reaching out his arms, "Mummy!"

Quickly and hastily, Orion righted the boy and suspended him under his arm but still kept him out of reach of his wife. "Casca!" he called. A boy with a plain chest plate and small sword hurried to his side. As he handed Cygnus to Casca, the little boy attempted to wrap his arms and legs around the chest plate.

"I'll take good care of him," Casca said. He barely skimmed Orion's shoulder and with a glance over to the golden lady, he tipped his head. His hair was a little long, just passing his eyes and was rusted colored, and his skin was just a little darker than Orion's but not dark enough to blend into the night. His mother was, of course, a woman of the warmer southern isles, where heat was a year-long time. His skin color is of a warm beige, the color of the underside of a baker's perfect loaf. Casca wasn't more than fifteen years of age.

The lady became uneasy, but knew better than to distrust Orion's judgment. He hated seeing the worry in her eyes but gave her one last kiss before he climbed upon his horse with a bright chestnut hide. He whipped the reign and the horse jolted forward

She was always afraid when he took off with her little boy. Every time Orion disappeared with him, she feared he'd never come home and that one day she'd never hold her son in her arms again.

Cygnus rode with Casca on his smaller and leaner black horse, possibly a mare, and she watched as the horse slowly disappeared through the iron gate and over the rock path. There was still no relief in her heart just because Casca had her boy. He was just a squire; he couldn't protect him forever.

The way to Weissmeister could have been a straight path through The Floodways but that way wouldn't have been safe with the horses. Due to the heavy rain recently, the path through the Floodways, of course, would be submerged and no one knew exactly what was in that water. It was always so dark and slurry. There have been accounts of horses being dragged under to satisfy the hunger of the unknown scaled beasts.