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A/N: Updates will take place on Fridays from this point on. I wanted to get a good chunk of the story posted before I started doing weekly postings. If you're enjoying the story please remember to vote and/or comment. I would greatly appreciate it.
As always, this chapter hasn't been properly edited, I will do so once the story is completed.
Thanks for reading.
-Lis
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The hour was late, when the pounding at my door began. Luckily, I had fallen asleep in my clothes as I was too lazy to change out of them. I couldn't have been sleeping long; the tall candle I had lit to read by had only slightly dropped in height. I pulled my hair back, and the pounding continued. My grasp loosened around my scooped hair, and I let it drop to the side, spilling freely over my shoulder.
I scurried to the door and cracked it open, but it was quickly shoved back, I stumbled backwards unprepared for the violent blow.
Two Knights stood at my door, both dressed in gilded armor. They were of higher rank, and seasoned. They had bested their youth and lived to welcome their middle-age - a feat that was not often accomplished among most working Knights.
The salt-and-peppered haired man spoke. "Our King would like to speak with you."
My eyes peered over at the Knight who had addressed me, his unkind eyes met with mine.
"What's this in regards to?" I asked.
The scattering snowflakes had picked up into a steady flow; they landed gracefully against their yellow suede cloaks, melting and beading into little droplets before they rained to the ground.
"You presence is required, you will be forced if you resist further."
"Ughhh," I clenched back my words, knowing the Knight was serious with his order. He would have easily put me in my place if I spoke out disrespectfully.
I slipped on my long boots and draped my white gifted cloak over my shoulders. I had five long minutes to think about whatever was about to happen, but nothing came to mind, and I hoped it wasn't going to be any more bad news.
They walked me into a meeting room, a great room that was set up like an auditorium. Most of Alexander's court was in attendance, including the lower Knights. They all stood as stiff as statues in front of wooden benches.
Alexander was elevated at the end of the long aisle; he rose above his men like any great leader should. He was dressed in his silver plate, with Lahre Sari sheathed at his side - an ominous sign that I should have perceived sooner. All three of his Council hovered nearby, their watching eyes trailed with each step I took.
My eyes brightened, James, Cassandra, and Andrew were present, jumbled between the lower Knights. They stood in the second row, near the aisle, and they offered me no glance as I walked by. They had returned earlier than expected - they weren't expected back until tomorrow afternoon.
Was I still dreaming, on my armchair, in front of the fire, next to Strare Harei? No I wasn't, the chill in the air was too real. And I was thinking, deep thoughts, deep, intricate thoughts to myself. Usually, pondering such things in dreamland would set me into a lucid state - if in fact I was dreaming - But that point didn't stop me from pinching my cold, bare arm to test my theory. I pinched and was still there.
I stood patiently as Alexander and his Council broke into meeting.
"Excuse me," I piped up, interrupting the whispers that were floating between Alexander and his Council. "What's going on?"
"Lady Alanis, I have brought you here despite my Council's wishes." He replied. "If it were up to them, you would have been locked away this very night. But I assured them that idea wouldn't have been sensible."
"What?" I lunged past the Knights who stood at my side. "What could I have possibly done to deserve that?"
I was confused. I had just taken a stroll with him just hours before, now this.
"All I ask of you is the truth. There is no need for you to jump to conclusions."
"Jump to conclusions..." I scoffed. "You called me here in the middle of the night, in front of all of these people - most of them are guards trained to kill for you and your Council. How do you not expect me to feel fear or anger, when I can see the distrust for me in everyone's eyes, including yours." I replied wounded. "Go on," I shouted. "Go on and question me. I'm ready. I'm used to your Council prying into my life. So I guess now it's your turn to start too."
His soft eyes lowered, then picked up quickly, rejuvenating into a solid stare.
Harold stepped forward. Clutched in his hand was a familiar piece of parchment. My heart sunk, no, plummeted into my gut. That was my paper, the same style stationery I had used to write to Julian on. Had they intercepted the raven, was that my letter? There was no use thinking otherwise, my prior assumption was accurate. It was my letter. And they had indeed shot down the bird that carried it to collect it.
He walked towards me with the paper held out in front of him. His eyes peered at the writing I had scribbled across its front. His lips pursed and then he spoke. "I believe this is yours." He shoved the letter into my shaking hands.
Silence reigned for a mere moment before he spoke, his accusing words. "Your eyes betray you, Lady Alanis. They tell us more than you're willing to share. But they tell us something nonetheless."
"You've really gone too far this time." My hand crushed the paper as I shouted. "Save your observations... I don't want to hear them."
"What need do you have with an enchanted steel?" He asked while his eyes examined my reaction, but I didn't give one, I didn't care what he thought he saw in me, I knew what was true. My eyes were dead ahead on the one person who could stop this madness. They were glued to Alexander, to the glow of silver that emitted around him.
"That letter was private Lord Alexander, it wasn't meant for you or your men. You'll have to trust me when I say to you that my need for the steel wasn't criminal. If you truly trust me, then you will believe what I'm saying is true."
"You asked the Old Shaman for enchanted steel. What use would you have for enchanted steel?" Harold asked again, my eyes darted to him.
"It's... it's personal. That letter was supposed to be private." I held onto my only defense, it was all I had. I had thought Alexander would have stepped up and say something by now, to stop the attack.
"I think a few days in the dungeon will do her good." Harold called up to Alexander, "or you could save yourself some time and speak the truth."
What the hell was happening, days before they were gifting me houses and asking me to serve their King as a Tunerir and now, this? It was times like these that made Larska seem appealing. Little did they know, my silence was for their King and his secret. But the silence I offered was also hurting my cause, the longer I held out, the guiltier I appeared to everyone.
"Perhaps, it will..." my simple reply was met with several offended gasps and whispers throughout the court. It was my hope that they would lock me away, and then I could at least talk to Alexander or his Council in private about the matter.
Harold swiveled his head slowly, rotating ever so disturbingly in my direction. His eyes were wide as walnuts, the slit of his mouth hung low - he looked like a deranged puppet.
Alexander lifted his head, and offered no resistance to the request.
The castle guards sunk in menacingly, from behind, to collect me. I stumbled away from them, closer to steps that led to Alexander and his High Court.
"Stand back," shouted one of the Knights in gilded armored. The clashing of metal and stomping of feet soon followed.
It was James and Cassandra. They pushed past the men that were threatening to surround me. Both stood protectively at my side.
The head Knight shouted unsheathing his sword. "Just what the hell do you think you're doing?"
James turned to him, with his hand above his blade. He was wise enough to practice that small restraint, his eyes lifted to his captain as he spoke. "You would harm the Oraur lahre? Is that what you wish? Let her explain herself, she saved our King once before-"
"And my life... as well as my sisters," Cassandra added from my side, her voice was as brutal as ever.
"Our past dealings with those who have escaped the settlements have tarnished our minds. She is not a spy, nor a terrorist. There has got to be a reason why she can't tell us." James defended.
"James Allard, Cassandra Leere... you both swore an oath to your King, to Berthold. The actions and words you're displaying here are treason." Harold's quip was met with the roar of the crowd.
"No, wait." I shouted desperately, hoping my cry would be heard in-between all the shouting. "I'll tell you... just please... please forgive them... they had no part of it. I swear." I fell to the stone floor, my dress crinkled around me. My head slung forward, I was exhausted.
My eyes closed, and I could hear my breath echo as it grazed the ground.
"Let this moment be forgotten. Go - take your places in line." Alexander ordered, "And the next person who steps out of line will be dealt with unpleasantly." His firm warning echoed through the aisle.
Every man, including James and Cassandra returned to their earlier positions.
My head rose, the stares followed. Harold's hand dangled in front of me, with promise to help me to my feet. I wanted to rip his filthy hand off his gangly arm and shove it down his throat. But I took it even so.
I walked to the start of the stairs and stood below Alexander's shadow. "As you know, I have been studying the words of the gods. So I could read from the pages of Strare Harei, and so I could understand why I was chosen as an Oraur lahre. But-" I spoke lowly, "I can't honestly say that was my main focus... there was something else that drove me to learn those words. Alone, I wouldn't have believed in myself to follow through with it, to welcome the gift that was given to me..." I stopped, knowing I couldn't stall for much longer.
"I want to ask a favor of -"
"There will be no more favors. You're lucky, our King approved your last." Harold scoffed.
"Allow her speak." Alexander barked, his patience was growing thin.
"I beg you, for your sake... that you relieve your men before I say anything further."
"Say what you will in front of them."
"You don't understand." I replied sternly, while trying my damndest to reveal the severity of what I was about to disclose.
"Say it," his undertone was borderline aggressive.
"It was to be used for a spell." I replied defeated, my fingers trembled against my breast, searching for my new anchor, my medallion. When I caught it, I squeezed the cold disk while I spoke. "It was going to be a gift for you, Lord Alexander..."
He breathed, "A spell..."
"Yes, from the pages of Strare Harei."
"What kind of gift could be given by enchanted steel other than death?" His Council accused from his side.
Harold leaned away giving me space.
"It is to be used in the ritual following the spell of Mani sahre A'avi."
When I spoke few understood what was said - it was the highborn, the scholars, and the gilded Knights who interpreted my words to the others. But I took the liberty of saying it again, so all could understand - their whispers stopped and they gazed up at their King silently.
"Who told you, which of these men told you? Was it the Knight you had bedded?" Harold scolded.
My hand reared back, then struck him across the face. His head jerked to the side, almost instantaneously. I retracted my burning hand; there was no doubt that it must have stung his cheek as much as it had my hand. He deserved it, for the horrible choice words he spoke.
"What's wrong with you?" I shouted at him, a flood of unwanted tears fled from the corners of my eyes. My hands flew to my face, their false persecution had hurt me and Harold's words had tipped the scale. Had everyone in this room known about Alexander's secret? None looked surprised. And it was apparent that James knew - hence Harold's below the belt remark.
Alexander rushed down several steps before he froze, realizing he was moving. His plated breast heaved as trace concern broke through his face.
"Stop," he shouted. "She has known since the ritual of my blindness. Something strange happened then, I was able to see for a moment during our connection and somehow she was aware of it."
Harold's hand rose to cover his reddening cheek. The imprint of my hand would be bruised across his face for a week before it faded.
Simon's kind voice broke from behind, he soon stood beside me. "You're saying that there is a spell to bring back sight?"
My hands lowered from my wet cheeks. "Yes," I trembled.
His tired eyes lifted reminding me to control the resentment that was rising within me. "The questioning method that the Council used was deplorable... and for that I apologize. I can promise you that they will never question you again." He stepped forward. "This young girl is no threat to anyone. Sir James was right to question our past dealings with the escapees. We may have been led down a dark path by prior runaways, but we can't brand them all guilty, or horrible actions like this will happen. It is not in Berthold's nature to hurt the innocent. In fact it was Lord Richard Blair's belief that every innocent should be protected. And it is that foundation on which our Kingdom stands, if we forget that fundamental principle, Berthold will surely begin to decay."
"But she hid her find and went behind our King's back." His Council spoke up from behind Alexander.
"I didn't want to get his hopes up." I replied fighting the urge to release my shame in the form of more tears. "I didn't think I had it in me to complete the spell. I was frightened of the ritual."
"Frightened," Simon questioned.
"Yes," I hesitated. "The spell is a sacrificial one that required the reciter to give part of one's self. The enchanted steel is to be used on me after the spell is spoken; it is to be pierced into my eye by the receiver of the gift."
"What," James snarled breaking free from where he stood; he was quickly swept up in the higher guard's arms before he could reach me.
"You can't be serious! There's no way, I will allow this to continue." James shouted, "I promised her I'd keep her safe. This spell could be shit for all we know. This is bullshit."
"Confine him." Alexander ordered while marching down the stairs to where I stood.
"Stop, don't hurt him." I begged.
"My men will see that he is comfortable. You have my word."
"And what good is your word." I replied while watching his men take James away.
My eyes snapped back to Alexander and his replied stare, a stare that spoke on his behalf. Things had gone too far this night, surprising hands were dealt that could not be taken back. I had known, I was being watched at all times by Alexander's men. I understood why. I heard the stories of bloodshed, the stories of betrayal. How could I be any different from those men and women, who had tricked them before? For all they knew I was lying, this whole time.
Alexander's hand found my shoulder, with a push he willed me aside so he could speak to me more privately.
Again I was face to face with a man, whose face gave away their shame.
"I don't expect you to trust me, not after the events of this night. And this is why we had our little trust discussion the other day. So stuff like this wouldn't happen."
"I know I should have told you, but I had my reasons..."
"The ritual."
"Yes, the ritual..." I replied bitterly. "I know it shows my true colors. But I'm not like you or your men. I'm not brave enough to just jump into something without thinking about it. If that makes me a coward... so be it."
"You are not a coward."
"I sure feel like one though. All of this would have been avoidable if I-"
He leaned in and whispered, "My Council is overbearing. It would have happened regardless... They would have found other things to harass you about." He pulled away. "They only do so, because I cannot. Because I can't see."
"I know."
He stood tall in front of me; the gleam of candlelight caught the crest on his breastplate. I sighed, and he watched carefully with his ears.
"What would you do... if you were me?" I asked.
"I'd take the book and leave. I'd find my own way." He replied honestly.
"Then it is a good thing you are not me, because I want to stay. I would like to earn the trust of your people, not as an Oraur lahre, or noblewoman, as myself. And-" I paused and broke one of the many rules I wasn't supposed to - at least in front of the others. I took his hand and sheltered it against the both of mine, before I went to speak. "All I have learned was for you, for the gift I was to give to you... you're my muse, and in a way you made me stronger." I made sure only he could hear me, although, if anyone else could, I wouldn't have cared.
"You would still consider it... even after all of this?"
"I had asked for a spell for enchanted steel for one reason, because I was sure. And yes, I am still sure... even after this."
"I can't accept." He said while breaking free of my hand. "The young Knight was right... if we went through with the ritual and something horrible happened to you. I'd never forgive myself for it."
"In all fairness it would be my decision. And the spell will work, I know it will." I replied confidently.
"Like you I'll need some convincing."
"Then let me convince you."
YOU ARE READING
Something Lost (Original Draft)
FantasyAlanis had always wanted to leave the settlement she lived in ever since she was a little girl. Together, she and her childhood friend, would sneak outside the walls of their settlement, and go on make believe adventures. They would fight and slay m...