Princess of Shadows

Part 1, The Phoenix - Chapter 3: A Discovery, A Dress And A Duel

Aithne woke just as the first rays of sunlight began to stream into the bedchamber through the gaps between the curtains. 

"Saraid?" she questioned in a mere whisper, but the girl beside her in the large bed didn't stir. So Aithne rose quietly and exited the dark room, closing the door behind her. 

Aithne squinted as she waited for her eyes to adjust to the bright lighting of the main room of her and her mistress' chambers. In the new light of morning, she reexamined the splendour of the room; the colours were richer, carvings in the furniture, more detailed and patterns on the rugs and tapestries, more complicated. She had to admit; it was beautiful.

Aithne dismissed the thought with a shake of her head and walked across the cool, smooth stone floor to where her pack sat beside a dressing table. The desk like table was laden with fancy jars and bottles, full of perfumes and various different makeup powders and pastes. It also contained an impressive array of trinkets and jewellry inside its two draws. Saraid had said the night before that it had all belonged to her aunt, Lasair, who had died giving birth to her and Arvel's third son, Sidwell. In the years since her death, Arvel had ordered that the chamber be kept exactly how it was when she died and regularly cleaned so that he and his sons could visit it and remember her.

Aithne knelt down and began to rummage through her pack, considering some things and discarding others. She eventually decided upon a simple, dark red woollen gown. It had long sleeves, and a wide, curved neckline, so wide, in fact, that the neckline can to rest on the ends of her shoulders. It was also extremely comfortable, which Aithne found uncommon in nice dresses. She usually preferred wearing leggings and a tunic; men's clothing, but she knew that here in a nobleman's dwelling, it would be frowned upon.

Once she had discarded her thin night shift, she donned the gown and for the next quarter of an hour wasted away the time fiddling with her long black hair. Eventually she grew bored and awkwardly fixed her waist long locks in a long braid down her back.

After checking on Saraid, she knew that the girl wouldn't wake for another hour or so at least, so she returned to the dresser, sat on the high backed chair with her knees drawn up to her chest and stared into the mirror, studying her sharp features; her high cheekbones, long, thin and straight nose as well as her strong jaw line. Her almost white skin was unblemished, although she knew that as soon as she willed it, her Lièrén mark would reappear on her forehead. It was an old trick of the Ju Shu, she had learned from a Lleidr Sorcerer many years ago. She had also altered the colour of her eyes from deep violet to hazel, using the same trick she used on her forehead, as she had deemed them too conspicuous, to memorable. Hazel was nice and common; no one would remember her.

The Ju Shu was a giant rat like creature, which could take on the form of the creatures it killed. She didn't need to kill anyone to alter her form, however it was still extremely difficult. To alter one's form, one was required to clear their mind completely of any other thought, except that one feature that one wanted to change. Once that was done they merely needed to maintain that disciplined concentration through the intense agony that followed. 

It was a skill that anyone could acquire, if taught how, but usually only the Lladron practiced it, since manipulating their own form came easier for them, as they were the people of the Ju Shu. As a Lièrén, Aithne found it easy to withstand the pain, but it had still taken months for her to master that simple little trick. For the whole of the first winter that Aithne had spent with Saraid, she had had to tie a rag around her forehead, to conceal her mark. If her Lièrén had been common knowledge, she would have been chased out of the university and hunted down. 

The Lladron weren't the only people who had derived unique abilities, the Ju Shu trick among them, from their sacred patron. It was well known that Deyrians lived remarkably long lives and rarely died young unless stabbed in the belly, or by some stroke of ill luck they caught an incurable disease. The sacred patron of the Deyrians was the Phoenix which, according to legend, could live for up to one thousand years. At which time it would build a nest, and set itself alight, Once it was done, a new phoenix chick would rise from the ashes of the old one. As a result Deyrians also had a strong connection with fire, the limits of which had yet to be tested.