The Phoenix's Tale (on hold until August)

Prologue

  Decima runs along the eastern corridors of Cloud keep. The early morning sun shines through the many arrow slits in the walls as she passes; the early morning breeze lifts her long white hair from her face as she runs at a speed incapable by anyone else. Her white hair whips around corners before the dozing soldiers realise she's passed, a blur in their under-worked eye: they slump back on their wolfish behinds when they realise who it is. She carries on at this speed for another ten minutes until she's at the western side of the keep, outside her brother, Ortwin's door.

She raises her hand to knock on the door but before she does, it opens, revealing her brother. He was a heavy sleeper and does not normally wake this early, but his handsome features still formed a smile when he realises its her, before quickly turning into concern when she pushes his slight person into his room.

 "What is it Ma?" he asked as she closed the door after them, Ma was the name everyone called her in Court, it stopped confusing her with her mother, who was also named Decima as well. Her eyes glanced around the room and saw what Ortwin had been doing: a large black leather bound book lay open on his desk by the window, accompanied by quill and ink, she wondered what was in it then decided against her curiosity, what she had to say was more important.

Decima turned and looked at her brother, the youngest boy of ten children - two girls and eight boys. He alone was the one she came to in dire need, a comforting shoulder to cry on and a battering ram against their older siblings – he often said it was them against the world.

He was now sitting on the edge of his four poster bed, the curtains a daring orange with matching bedspread, which made his dark hair shine, his was always rebellious in his choice of things; this idea continued in his clothes for today. A dark red floor length robe hung loosely on his young slender shoulders, had it not been for the gold looped chain round his middle, he would look like one of those English monks who came to beg at court. She noted that his green eyes kept glancing from her to the black book, fuelling her curiosity further but she reminded herself of her purpose for being here.

 

She slowly sat down on a blue winged chair in front of him and twiddled her thumbs before she began to speak.

"I am to be married -" She began.

"- To Maximianus. I thought you cared for the elf -"

"- I do but it's not that... Stefan..." she tailed off, Stefan was the eldest child, headstrong, unreliable, no sense of forbearance and heavily involved in the procreation of the fae.

 "What did he do."

"He snuck into my room two months ago, I thought nothing of it, but." She stood up and pulled her blue dress so it was tighter around her middle - showing the small mound stuck on her flat stomach, before returning to her seat.

  "Have you told mother yet?"

  "No...I only found out this morning... I thought it best to tell you first". Tears began to dribble down her cheeks, she looked up into her brothers face and saw much to her own surprise that he was smiling.

  "My poor sweet sister. Do you know what you've caused?"

"No Ortwin.... What?"

"A War." And with that he stood up and went to the window. Decima stood up and gazed over his shoulder. The window offered a view of the western mountains around Cloud, the giant built wall which made Cloud impregnable: reaching the highest outer mountains. But Decima guessed this was not what Ortwin was staring at. As, barely visible even to the trained eye was the edge of Maine and the tops of the hundred foot trees of Elfrey, the elves homeland.