(COMPLETE)
Lady Mhysra Kilpapan was blessed from birth with a distinguished family, a glorious home and a giant eagle miryhl of her own. Fully aware of her luck, she wants for nothing in life - except a chance to become a Rift Rider. The elite force...
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9th Blizzard
"I don't know what you're worrying about," Mherrin told Mhysra three days later as they ambled through the Cathedral market. "You've got an official letter from Mam already, which should be enough for even the highest sticklers."
"Except that sniffy clerk," Mhysra grumbled, slapping her gloved hands together to generate some warmth. It had snowed heavily over night, making her doubly grateful that Cumulo now had other miryhls to huddle up with. "He wants a letter from my father." And deep down she wanted one from him too. Surely after all these years of ignoring her, the earl could do this one small thing to secure her future happiness. He'd done it for Kilai.
"I can write you a letter from your father," Mherrin assured her blithely, as though forging an earl's seal was no small feat. "I've been practising."
He sounded so pleased with himself that Mhysra had to smile. "What would your mother say?"
Mherrin grinned. "It was her idea in the first place."
Knowing she should be shocked, but unable to summon up the energy, Mhysra smiled wanly. "I don't want you to get in trouble." Forgery carried heavy penalties, since it was ever-so-slightly illegal.
"We won't get caught," he said confidently. "And it'll save you from banging your head against that brick wall. You know he'll never change his mind."
"I know," she sighed, but she still couldn't stop hoping. It was all so underhand. She hated starting out her Rift Rider career based on a lie, but what choice did she have?
"Well, well, look what the pyrefly dragged in."
The cousins stopped as a young skysailor stepped into their path. Mhysra tilted her head back to stare up and up into a pair of merry brown eyes.
"Derry!"
The skysailor caught her in a great bear hug, while Mherrin slapped him on the shoulder and started asking questions, "When did you get back? Did you come on the Illuminai? Was my aunt with you?" Looping an arm around Mhysra's waist, he hauled her backwards. "Let the man breathe, cuz."
Laughing, Derrain ran a hand over his ruffled hair. "We got back this morning. Yes, I was on the Illuminai. And yes, the Countess is home."
Mhysra shared a grimace with her cousin, before smiling at Derrain. Having essentially grown up aboard the Kilpapan fleet of skyships, from a nine-year-old cabin boy to his current seventeen-year-old midshipman, Derrain had been a regular part of Mhysra and Mherrin's life, when he often sat out the Storm Season at Wrentheria. In fact, outside of her family and Cumulo, Derrain was probably Mhysra's closest friend, always ready to lead or follow her into trouble.
"It's good to see you, Derry."
"You might not think that in a month or two." He winked at Mherrin.
