Remembering the Past While Looking Towards the Future

38th Day of Ope in the Third Month of Snow’s Fall

4633 A.G.G. (Present Day)

Castle Įcħor-Nåbįlå, North of the Yavan Mountains

The Continent of Kazakoto

9:56 P.S.R. (Pre Suns’ Rising)

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Samahdemn

“Unbelievable.” the high princess whispered to herself. “To have so much purpose and importance thrust on you that you didn’t ask for. So much knowledge and so many alien emotions. To suddenly find yourself loving a woman long dead, and loving another who you don’t really know? To have your whole life turned upside-down in a matter of moments…?

“I’m surprised you didn’t lose your mind.”

“I can’t argue with you there Love. Things were…bad for a while. Real bad.”

Not wanting to press him, Aoleon backed away from her father. Away from his systems, papers and the remains of the breakfast that had been provided to them while they toiled. Coffee, fruit, eggs, sausages and kippered herring with toast. None of which she partook in, but all of which her father demolished.

He had quite the appetite. All of her family did, save for her.

She proceeded to walk around his desk; stretching as she moved, even though her body didn’t really need her to, to lean on the gilded balcony railings in thought.

More habits from her old life hanging around like ghosts of the past.

It wasn’t long before the king joined her there doing the same; rubbing his face gruffly. Tiredly yawning. His need for recuperation may have been greatly diminished from when he was mortal, but three days without sleep, burning the candle at both ends, would have taxed anyone who wasn’t naturally of Dįvįnë birth. And Samahdemn was definitely starting to feel it. He’d been defeated by the long night’s work, having been forced to abandon his pipe and drink a while ago from exhaustion. His water filled apparatus stood cold. His glass sat empty.

Looking over the wood and metal barrier down to the ground floor together, they both watched as a mixed assemblage of castle servants met near the base of the graywood tree where the red and golden glow of its wick lanterns mixed with the early morning sunlight pouring in through the stained glass dome far overhead. Most likely readying to smother the fire in the main hearth, clean it out, and ready it for its next use.

From among them, a child, a ma’jong boy who looked to have not seen much past his tenth name day, walked off and ended up sitting to himself between the semicircular weapon display cases at the tree’s base. There on his haunches, he stared questionably at a grouping of white mushrooms in the garden at the foot of the ancient outgrowth; sniffing each of them in turn. Even though they’d ceased luminescing with the rising of the suns, not unlike the rest of their kind, they nonetheless seemed to hold the cub in a trance. And he poked at them as if trying to decide whether to pluck one and put it in his mouth.

But little did he know that he’d unwittingly found himself in a very dangerous situation.

The mushrooms he looked upon hungrily were considered a common root in a number of poultices by the castle’s skilled herbalists. But if ingested raw, they could be quite deadly.

Samahdemn was about to cry down to the child as his daughter motioned as if she was about to allow herself to… apparate down to the boy, in fear that their toxins would lead to a rather disastrous morning for him.

Fortunately, both Aoleon and her father’s fears were dismissed nearly within the space of a breath. For as he grabbed at the patch to rip one free, the cub’s watchful mother came up behind him and swiped at his hand. Her agitation vocalized with a soft animalistic growl and a nip at his hand.

With his ears laid low, he jumped up and scurried underneath the maid’s arm in both apology and fear.

Watching the scullery maid cradle him as if to let him know that she was only trying to protect him made Samahdemn feel warm inside.

“And that’s exactly why we shouldn’t allow children in the library.” Aoleon signed to her father with her isilivere arms. “It probably wouldn’t be a bad idea to have the tree roped off. Maybe I can repurpose some of the siege equipment in the cellars for the job.”

“Or, on the other hand, I could assign that to one or two of the footmen on my way out. They can figure it until I can commission something more permanent. I’ll have some heavy dyed jute rope imported direct from the Open Sea Docks down south and a few custom bronze stanchions cast by our metal workers here in the castle. You don’t always need to do everything yourself, Love.”

“Hmm. Maybe.”

Following the banister slowly toward one of the far walls with the tips of her fingers, Aoleon spied people entering the library from the main hall; pointing at them as they did so for her father’s benefit. Turning his gaze to were his daughter indicated, Samahdemn easily made out the figures of two bulky looking men who took up station to either side of the bochord’s entrance. They held elaborate polearms at their sides and were strapped with short swords about the waist; all castle forged. Very fine weapons to match their equally fine armour.

Much like the men who stood at the stairs which led to the study where the father/daughter duo stood, halting any who dared to attempt to encroach on the restricted upper levels of the library, they were draped tastefully in layers of black, blood red, olive green and dark yellow. Making them known as members of the Familial Guard. There to escort the high princess to the morning’s audience.

Not that she needed their protection. But public perception was what it was. And it wouldn’t do to have a member of the royal family moving about in public without escort, regardless of how capable.

Ayashe, who’d started rousing with Aoleon’s movement, approached the albino from behind and nudged her large head under one of the woman’s metal hands. A sweet gesture. The Lady responded in kind by rubbing and scratching behind the powerful leopardess’ ears.

Taking a seat next to the albino, she chuffed happily as the young woman continued to scratch.

“You don’t want to be late Love.” Samahdemn signed to his daughter once she turned her attention from her sister-in-spirit to face him. “No doubt your lady’s maid is awaiting your arrival in your quarters to assist you…I’m assuming post Arjana’s departure.”

“Likely. She never stays with me past the morning’s third hour. No real chance of running into the staff and raising questions. Although, now knowing that the servants have been gossiping about us anyway, and since you’ve long since sussed it out, I suppose there’s no longer any need for that type of subterfuge.”

“Never was in the first place.” Samahdemn responded with a smile. “Now you should get a move on.”

“Bah. I still have an hour plus a half to go before I’m needed.”

“And it will take you about half of that to get to your chambers and back. The attendees are likely already starting to arrive.”

“Of that I’ve no doubt.” she stated shortly. “I’m sure the assembly halls are already filling to capacity with eager and concerned citizenry here to voice their grievances. And I’m equally sure that the Council of the Crown is already holding small discussions around your Grand Table.”

Samahdemn smiled. “Going to make them wait, are you?”

“Just a little. Being fashionably late reminds them that they wait for us, not the other way around. It also keeps them remembering that nothing moves without our blessing. It’s good to remind them of those types of things from time to time as they often tend to forget. They’re stubborn enough when you keep the leash short. Let it run long and everyone starts getting too big for their boots. Especially when it comes to dealing with the decrees of a woman.”

“Who cares what they think?” the castle lord asked. “At the end of the day, you’re the high princess and you speak with the full authority of the king and queen. They can do little but follow your final decrees and deal with it.”

She smiled and shrugged. “Maybe.”

Picking up on the implications of what she was saying and not caring for any of it, Samahdemn perked up quickly in her defense. “Is there someone on the council who’s giving you a hard time? Something I need to personally address?”

Aoleon shook her head. “No offense father, but I haven’t needed anyone to ‘address’ anything on my behalf since my ten and eighth name day. I’ll handle the council. Not to worry.”

In this moment, Samahdemn was about as proud, and sad, as any father could be. Despite his poor influence in her earlier years, and despite the tragedies of her life, Aoleon had grown to be a fine and strong figure of a woman. Samahdemn only wished that he could have been there for her more; that he’d helped her iron out her rougher edges. But all and all, no father could have loved their progeny more.

“Well,” he stated as he choked back some of the emotion that was rising in his throat, “if your intention is to intimidate them into not trying to intimidate you, then you could do worse than to take Ayashe with you.”

As he spoke, he watched the giant cat in question yawn loudly; her mammoth mouth so wide agape that you’d be forgiven for believing that she could swallow a full-grown man whole.

“She’s mentioned once or twice that she’d be interested in being present in more council meetings; concerned with hearing the grievances against your mother’s people I’d imagine. I suppose it’s her right as a member of this family. Not to mention that she’s practically a queen herself to her own kind. Which kind of makes her an ambassador of sorts. Besides, nothing scares people straight more so than the sight of a dire snow leopard walking at your side.”

“Our people dad. The grievances against our people! Not mom’s people. For the love of-”

“Of course! Of course. That’s what I meant.”

Aoleon’s sighs were so thick, Samahdemn could have cut them with a knife.

Allowing her attention to shift back to Ayashe, the princess asked- “Is that true little sister? You want to go with me? You know how these meetings get; excessively long and exceedingly boring.”

Fully understanding her question, the leopardess chuffed happily in response and walked in excited circles around the snowy-haired woman; rubbing her weighty frame against Aoleon’s legs.

“Oh…and don’t forget this.” Samahdemn removed his signet ring and tossed it to Aoleon; watching as she caught it deftly as it sailed through the air. “Now your voice will be fully endorsed.”

“As always. Thank you.” She studied it as was her custom whenever he gave it to her for official affairs. Heavy and formal, it was several sizes too big for her. Even her thumbs wouldn’t have been able to hold the ring in place on her hands. “I’ll attach it to my necklace on my way there.”

“Be certain to pick something appropriate to wear this time, yes? Something formal.” he stated as he massaged his gun-shot hand; a habit that he’d held onto many long years after the need to massage it to relieve pain had died away. “I hate to ask, but I don’t want those old buffoons to keep complaining about your casual way of dressing. Lest I strangle one of them for lack of patience with their foolishness.”

Aoleon held out her arms and examined herself in a very dæmön-may-care fashion. “What’s wrong with what I have on? I was just going to grab a few things from my chambers and touch up my face. Need I really go through all of the hullabaloo? I don’t rightly care about the nobles getting jostled because I want to be comfortable.”

“So much like your mother. ‘Jostling’ the nobles a bit is one thing Aoleon. After all, running a little late or having Ayashe at either one of our sides are good for the odd shake up. But let’s not outright incite aggravation if it can be avoided. Play the role. It wouldn’t take you but a blink. Besides, I do believe you’d give Lord Eddenburrough a heart attack if he saw you dressed the way you are now. You know that old horn dog has been sweet on you for years. Although, that would admittedly be funny.”

“Oh. I’m glad that my hardships amuse you so.”

“Well I’m glad that you’re glad.”

“Bah. If only he knew how far off the mark he was.”

“Maybe you should tell him that you prefer women the next time he tries to slide up next to you. Or, more importantly, that you already belong to Arjana of all people. The look on his face would be priceless.”

“Ha! I’d rather not. Not yet anyway. Though purely for financial reasons, of course. Not because I fear what the counsel would say. If there’s one person it’s always good to have a leg up with, it’s the Advisor of Coin. As long as he thinks I’m obtainable, there’s not much I can’t get him to agree to. Wouldn’t want him tightening the purse strings out of jealousy now, would we?”

“Look at you! Being all cut-throat and whatnot.”

The high princess smiled a little too proudly at that bit of praise. But quickly reverted back to assuaging her father’s fears. “Anyway, you don’t have to worry overmuch about it. I’ll do as you ask and be in my regal attire by the time I arrive. I promise. Things will be touchy enough at this meeting as it is without me playing games.”

But even as she made the promise to her father, she was apparently unable to keep herself from staring down at her bare discoloured feet; turning them this way and that. The silver ankle bracelets that she wore, which were connected via beautiful silver chains to silver toe rings, jingled lightly with her movements as she was compelled to defiantly state-

“But I’m still not wearing shoes. I don’t care how much Lady Geneviève cries and complains about how ‘unladylike’ she thinks it is.”

“I swear that you and the Adviser of Laws stay at each other’s throats.”

“No. She stays at mine. And I’ve nearly half a mind sometimes to relieve her of the station. She doesn’t advise me outside of that chamber. My personal joys are my own and I won’t have them stripped from me.”

“I’d expect no less.” Samahdemn said on the cusp of another deep yawn. “I’d expect no less. But I can’t have you casting out advisors chosen by your mother. That’s a family discussion. Not a singular decision.” he stated as he started going through the motions between his holographic keyboards to shut down his information systems.

“I know. I was just being…dramatic. But not by much.”

Continuing to bounce back and forth between watching him and watching the stirring of people below, Aoleon suddenly spoke up with a very random question.

“Father?”

“Yes Love?”

“Was she formidable?

“How’s that?”

“Tå’Sånnun? Was she a formidable teacher?”

Ever since she was a child, Samahdemn’s daughter had long since been fascinated by stories of capable women. Virtuous. Strong morally. Strong in character. Physically strong…it didn’t matter.

And being that Aoleon was fiercely proud of her heritages, these stories were especially potent for her if they were about swalii or dwalli women. Her quarters were filled with books, novelettes and even so-called copper dreadfuls about such women. Good, evil and indifferent; real and fictional alike. She reveled in their tales and over the course of her life, had formed her forceful personality to emulate aspects of theirs.

Not bad role models for a young girl growing up in, what was still in many aspects, a male driven society.

The king waived his mahogany hand a final time in front of his floating screens and, quite literally, wiped them away. The keyboards and directional sphere followed suit.

“Very formidable. Tå’Sånnun was migh-ty.” he answered. “After I’d healed ‘enough’, which was far too soon for my liking, we started training. And I quickly came to hate fighting her. True to her words, it never felt as though she ever went easy on me. Regardless of the fact that the others insisted she should; fighting me most times as if I myself were not friend but foe. In fact, she fought me so hard that many were the days when I wondered if she were taking out some of her frustrations and grievances against me on me.

Her movements were so swift that often times I struggled to visually keep up with her. Her body allowed her to move with the grace, limberness and speed of the canines she resembled; even among other Ångëlįcs. I suspect that’s one of the reasons why she always preferred being one.

“It was like battling a blur of color backed up with physical force. Even if what Zåkÿntħos told me was true; that despite how much of a beating she gave me she still wasn’t giving it her all as she would have against a fellow Dįvonësë, what she did give me was more than enough to make certain that she got the points of each of her lessons across. The more we sparred, the more I learned to fear the gifts and prowess of the Dįvįnë.

“And oh, her gifts. Her gifts. She weaved so fast…and with next to no preparation. I couldn’t weave anything anywhere near fast enough to counter her. Quickly did I learn that I could do nothing save for getting out of the way. If I didn’t, all I’d feel was an explosion of atmosphere, see a flash of light in the shape of her wings, then a wall of heka would slam into me and I’d find myself flung like a rag doll to the ground or into the air. More than once did she knock me out cold.

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“And it didn’t help that she wouldn’t allow me the use of gun or glaive. None of them would. They insisted that I learn the art of fighting with polearms, of all things. Even though none of them fancied them in the slightest. In fact, Tå’Sånnun fought primarily with her claws as was the custom of the ma’jong people; something that the many, many lacerations I received from her could attest to. Ëlzįëį mostly preferred to let his principal gifts reign supreme when he was locked in combat, and of course, Zåkÿntħos had his rune covered scimitar. So, here I was, woefully out of my league, moving too slow and fighting off balance.”

“Sounds like she wanted to kill you.”

“To be blunt, I think she did. But more than that, she wanted to see me succeed…to be better. Thankfully, every bout of physical training concluded with a healing session conducted by Cållįå. Usually under Zåkÿntħos’ attentive eye. And slowly but surely, I got better at combat.”

“And the rest? Surely it wasn’t all fighting.”

“It wasn’t. When I wasn’t doing the physical work, or recovering from it, I was strengthening my intellectual and spiritual muscles under Ëlzįëį’s tutelage. Seemingly learning everything that there was to learn about…everything. The nature of the world. The nature of heka. The All-Mother. The Great Rebellion. Perfecting my Ångëlįc-speak. Everything.”

“No half measures huh?”

Samahdemn smiled. “None. And looking back on it, I don’t think things could have been any other way. I wouldn’t have been ready otherwise. If they’d gone easy on me, things would’ve been…quite a bit different.

“Even then, with events ultimately turning out the way they did, there are still things that I wish I’d found to do another way. Things that I wish it hadn’t taken me so long to realize. Like recognizing what I should have been fighting for. It wasn’t until I became a Drågoon that I truly understood what Zåkÿntħos was willing to give up so much for.

“I thought I knew before, but I didn’t.”

Aoleon looked lost. Her father was told the stakes. He had seen the High Drågon’s memories. He’d glimpsed the enemy that stalked him in the lounge. He was personally experiencing the power of the Ångëls. What more did he need to understand that he didn’t already?

“What didn’t you know?”

“I didn’t comprehend the weight of who and what I really was. I was still very self-centered and because of that, Zåkÿntħos didn’t tell me everything. He’d refused to show me all of the secrets he held close when we were of one mind. I still had no idea why I was so important to either side. I couldn’t for the life of me understand what role I was supposed to play in the war to come. What exactly did everyone expect of me?

“I had so much doubt and stress swimming about me that there were days that I found it hard to think straight. And being forced to separate myself from drink and smoke cold turkey did little but make it an even more jarring experience overall. Not to mention that I still had to deal with Lumå’įl’s people.”

“Lumå’įl’s people? Did Tįlåtħ surface again despite the fact that the Ǻngëls already had you under watch?”

“Of course. Even the Ǻngëls can’t be everywhere at once and they weren’t hovering over my shoulder every moment of the day. The Fallen were nothing if not persistent…and I was nothing if not very, very foolish.

“And as it was told to me before, the Fallen would rather see me dead than see me aligned with the Ångëls. But we’ll get to that later.

“There’s little worse in this world than feeling…pressed. I was being forced into a conflict that was not my own by the whims of Fate. And as important as I knew that all of this was, part of me still wanted to rail against it all. I was in over my head. And I was scared. For the first time in my life, I was honestly afraid. Stripped naked by the fear of the unknown and the fear of what was going to happen to me.”

Aoleon paced back and forth for a few moments, drinking in her father’s confession in all of its flowery prose.

“So, when did things come to a head with you, Zåkÿntħos and Tå’Sånnun?” she asked finally. “If you were still so uncertain about what you were supposed to be doing; so terrified, and if the Choirs were still internally at odds about you, what was the turning point? You could’ve just taken the quick and easy road and worked with Tįlåtħ. What happened? Not to mention that the Ångëls threatened you with the wrath of Death herself. When did those threats dissipate? Did Tå’Sånnun ever warm up to you?”

Samahdemn smiled to himself. “Unfortunately, that’ll have to wait for another day. We’ll pick things back up later. Right now,” he tapped the timepiece on his arm. “You have a meeting to get to. Remember Love; fashionably late. Not obnoxiously so.”

Aoleon sucked her teeth in protest. “I suppose.” She looked back at the stacks of papers that marked where she stopped reading, then back to her father. For better or for worse, she’d learned more about him in the past few hours than she’d known all her life. And there was still seemingly so much more there to unearth… “You know, this is either going to turn out to be the best possible thing you could’ve done, or the worst. Your writing, I mean. And I can’t decide which.”

“Neither can I.” he confessed. “But I do believe that it’s the right thing. I just hope that it turns out well. Who knows? It’s possible that nobody will even read all of this.”

“Well, regardless of how things eventually turn out, I’m proud of what you’re trying to do.”

“Even if it gets us usurped by the people?” Samahdemn asked.

He was smiling when he signed the question, but Aoleon could sense no joviality behind his motions. So to keep up appearances, she returned the grin and said- “Yes. Even if it gets us usurped. As long as we’re all together. We’re family after all.”

She started to walk away, but then turned back to face her father. “However, that wouldn’t be my first choice.”

“I’ve no doubt that your mother and siblings feel the same.”

Aoleon started towards the stairs with Ayashe close in tow beside her; yawning widely yet again and shaking her large feline head and body vigorously to shrug off the last of her sleepiness.

“Are you going to be at formal dinner tonight?” Aoleon called out aloud as she spun gracefully and walked backward down the stairs while still talking with her hands. “Mother should be back from her hunt by then and it would be nice for us to all have dinner together.”

“Of course. It’s Sundras, after all.” the king signed in response.

“It was Sundras last week also and I don’t remember you being at the table.”

“True. I missed that one. Paperwork called me. But I wouldn’t miss it tonight for the world.”

“Good.”

King Samahdemn found himself watching his daughter make her way down every set of stairs with Ayashe in tow; ever overprotective. And as their path led him to gaze over the edge of the balcony, he observed the mischievous would-be mushroom eating boy-cub as he broke from his mother to come running to Aoleon as she came into his view from around the tree.

He was apparently very fond of the albino princess.

He stopped short of the immortal royal however; frozen in fear as Ayashe appeared slowly from behind her. The mother bravely started to come to her son’s rescue when the Aoleon halted her advance by raising an artificial hand. Samahdemn didn’t need to fall back onto his preternatural hearing or his knowledge of handspeak to be able to tell from his daughter’s demeanor and body language that she was explaining to the maid that her son was going to be ok.

It was obvious that the ma’jong’s maternal instincts were driving her to want to act, but her inbred fear of the noble woman and her sacrilegious limbs were holding her fast in place; her eyes wide and her ears slicked back in fear of what was about to happen.

Ayashe approached the cub, sniffed around him for a moment, and in one of the most adorable scenes Samahdemn had the pleasure of seeing for a long while, she proceeded to try and lick the child’s face off. This led to giggles, which led to the cub hugging the massive leopard about the neck and the mother breathing a hefty sigh of relief. All of the other servants, once they became aware of her presence and the perceived danger had passed, either bowed or curtsied low to Aoleon in reverence.

And, maybe a bit in awe.

She scooped up the cub as she pleaded with the servants to stand straight. Shivering at first at either the cold touch of her constructed limbs or the fear of them in whole…or both, the boy quickly adapted to being carried by the princess and his unease subsided as he smiled wide. After playing with the child’s tousled brown hair, and allowing the cub to fondle with her own hair decorations in return, she handed him back to his mother along with a few kind words.

By this time, the two Familial Guardsmen, who had begun approaching her as soon as she reached the ground floor, arrived at her side. Ready to escort her and the leopardess to her chambers, then on to where the rest of the Council of the Crown awaited her arrival.

As she exited the room with her small entourage, and the servants returned to their jobs, Samahdemn backed up slowly until his buttocks hit his desk, and he leaned his weight against it. The incense burners hanging from the pillars had gone out a while ago, but the scent of frankincense and sandalwood were still prevalent in the air. And the castle lord inhaled them deeply; allowing all stress leaving his body.

“That went well.” he said to no one in particular about the night’s work. “Much better than I expected. Understanding to a fault. No harsh judgements. Maybe I should bring everyone into this early and have Kŵanza and Åålįÿåħ join us for the rest. Maybe even my wife.

“Although how she’ll react to some of what’ll be there…” He sighed to himself in distress. “I suppose the only way to know is to rip off the bandage and see what happens.”

Samahdemn started massaging his hand in thought. “I wonder how Aoleon will take to reading about the day-”

Shaking his head to himself, he forced himself to cease talking. Idle speculation would just raise doubts that he didn’t want slowing him down.

Aoleon didn’t remember a lot about the event that crippled her. At least, that’s what she’d always claimed. But regardless of whether that was completely true or not; whether it actually was a lapse or she’d made herself to forget, what was abundantly clear was that whenever she thought too much about her appendages, she was in some way reminded that something very bad happened. Something that left all of their lives completely changed. An event that took away something very important from them both that could never really be replaced.

And however latent, it pained her sometimes; the knowledge of not knowing. Not fully remembering something that was so important.

“Maybe she’d be better off not being reminded.”

But that wasn’t really true.

“No,” he corrected himself. “She’s strong enough to be told. Strong enough to remember. I just hope she’s ready for what’ll be stirred up when the moment approaches. Then again, if she’s not, she’ll likely just excuse herself from the proceedings. She’s a big girl.”

Breathing heavily, he stood away from his desk, extinguished the open-flame lamps, allowed his eyes to linger about the space for a moment longer, and moved to leave the library.

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The book lined main hallway was always filled with multicoloured light of the suns pouring in through heavy stained glass windows and the life of people moving hither and tither this time of morning, but Samahdemn couldn’t help but feel drained. This story inside of him begged to be told, yet he wasn’t truly convinced that anyone would care despite how driven he was to complete his work. Would people care enough to either feel outraged or grant forgiveness? Would anyone care to know his family’s past one way or another?

Did it matter?

All of this idle conjecture is futile. I’ll not stop now regardless; so close to the end. he thought as he exited the halls moved onwards in the general direction of his bed chambers with another yawn at his lips. “My fears will never be allayed. I’ve too many of them.”

Samahdemn smiled to himself as he passed another group of servants who stopped their work to show their reverence, to which he responded with a shallow bow of his own as he continued forward. He reflected briefly on how these people were freed and happy because of his family’s continued efforts; how many more lives they’d be able to separate from bondage through the Crown’s monetary efforts and his family’s continued political labors to abolish the trade and tear asunder the establishment of slavery in general.

It’s the least we can do. he thought as he started to continue past the family solar. But he stopped just outside its twin doors as he thought he heard laughter coming from inside.

With his curiosity driving him to enter the room, he crossed its threshold to see naught but its rather lavish wood and brass appointments, wall tapestries, oil paintings and inviting furniture. But the laughing grew louder until it was just outside of a heavy iron and oak door on the chamber’s opposite wall. As the door groaned open, first through was a Familial Guardsman, followed in short order by the king’s his youngest daughter, Åålįÿåħ, with all of the queenly grace and beauty of her mother alongside the most faithful of her ladies-in-waiting, Lady Zuri Adebayo of noble blood; Obälumo of Įcħor-Nåbįlå’s western holds.

Åålįÿåħ’s flawless, dark skin was shining like polished ebony in the suns’ light; her sharp canines and incisors gleaming white beneath her smile as the two young women laughed together.

Very dapper, but heavy waxed hunting jackets hugged Åålįÿåħ’s lithe frame and her companion’s more human-esque one. Jeans and knee-high hunting boots which were lightly covered in dust and feathers completed the twin packages.

Yet Princess Åålįÿåħ, by choice, was no hunter. She simply favoured such garments as her “working clothes”. And she and her confidant had indeed apparently just come from working.

Well, look who I thought into being.

“Good morning lord-father.” she expressed happily with a light curtsy as she entered the solar and noticed Samahdemn. Her accent, proudly Hesijuan, cradling her words softly as her metallic-looking silvery dreadlocs fell about her face as she dipped; one of which being inundated with yellow rope standing out prominently against all the rest. All of them jingling like windchimes as their numerous cuffs, ornaments, precious stones and thin chains clinked against one another.

“Good morning my Lord.” Zuri stated as she nearly dropped her dark skinned frame to the floor in a curtsy so low that she may as well have been sitting cross legged with her shoulder length, heat flattened hair nearly meeting her knees.

“Good Goddess Obälumo! You’re making a contortionist somewhere jealous. Stand, please.”

“As you wish my Lord.”

“Good morning, Love.” Samahdemn responded to his daughter as he shooed away her formality with an embrace and a light kiss upon her cheek as she pushed some of her wayward locs back behind her ears. “From whence came you two?”

“We were in the tower dovecote tending to the messaging birds. I was also helping to tend the ceremonial doves and the owls in preparation for the upcoming festivities.”

No surprise. Åålįÿåħ loved birds almost as much as her mother.

“Are you feeling alright?” she asked with a bit of sudden worry bleeding into her voice; her face turning sour.

He knew better than to question her or outright hide the truth for want of saving her worry. She had a gift for seeing the truth of things.

But maybe I don’t have to tell her everything. he thought.

“I’m just a bit tired. Haven’t slept in the past few days.”

“Night terrors?”

“No. Just working.”

The princess squinted at her father skeptically. Her vibrantly luminescing pupils’ purple hues almost piercing the king’s very soul from within their large onyx irises. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”

I knew better than to try that. She’s going to be livid with me. “I’m fine. I promise. It’s nothing.”

Zuri moved aside to give her Lady room as Åålįÿåħ held out her hand to her father; an immaculate ring of exquisite craftsmanship and uncanny detail decorating her bonding finger, though she was unwed. A decoration that was mirrored on the princess' opposing hand with another equally beautiful piece of jewelry. Both together being almost otherworldly in their visual aesthetic.

“Let me be the judge of that.” she insisted.

Her appeal to her father was soft and caring, yet it nonetheless carried the weight of a command, not a request. And with it came an influx of heka that was so rapid and so heavy that it never failed to catch Samahdemn off balance when she wove. Not unlike one of the Ångëls she was with her deftness and swiftness when she delved into the Flow.

“This is hardly necessary.”

“I beg to differ if you’re going to keep things from me.”

In the mists of her growing insistence, King Samahdemn couldn’t help but notice that his daughter’s skin was a tinge too pale. And a scant few strands of stark white hair were visible among her steely dreads.

“You really want to subject yourself to so much strain? Have you…eaten lately?” he asked worriedly.

“Immaterial.”

“I beg to differ if you’re insistent on reading me.”

“Stop stalling father.”

With a groan of discontent, the monarch hovered a dark-skinned hand over hers; their palms nearly touching. Focus-less, she closed her eyes and practically submerged Samahdemn in magick; her breathing almost in perfect sink with the very nature of the unseen ebs and flows of the threads of creation.

Samahdemn surrendered himself to the moment; the feeling of his hair standing stiff on his arms.

The tell-tale taste of copper in his mouth.

The sensation of a thousand pin pricks tickling his brain as his daughter’s essence touched his mind. His thoughts. His memories.

For the briefest of moments, he was reminded of his first meeting with the Great Drågon…

After a moment, Åålįÿåħ opened her eyes, let loose a soft but animalistic growl; a rumble that was almost…hungry, and stumbled backwards a bit.

Zuri jumped to her aid, but the princess held out her hand to halt her. “Don’t touch me, please.” she hissed gently. “I don’t want to hurt you. I just need a moment.”

“Of…of course, my Lady.”

Samahdemn noticed the guardsman looking to him and back to the princess, a bit unsure of what to do. But a stern shake of the monarch’s head held him fast in place.

“I told you that you should have eaten first. Are you alright?”

Within minutes, Lady Åålįÿåħ righted herself and breathed deep the now non-heka charged air; the smile returning to her face to brighten the room in spite of the growing amount of visible white in her hair and the poorly guised hunger behind her eyes.

“I’m fine. I can handle it. I just…dug a bit deeper than I meant to. I keep forgetting how resilient a Drågoon mind is to scrying. I had to follow the Flow with a bit more…zeal than I anticipated would have been necessary, especially considering how close to empty as I’m running.

“Fact of the matter is that I should’ve been able to trust you to just be honest with me dad.”

The disappointment in her voice stabbed the monarch in the heart like a knife. But she was right in saying so.

The princess shifted her attention to her lady-in-waiting. “As for you Lady Zuri, thank you. Truly. I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s okay my Lady. I knew better than to try and approach. I forgot myself. But we should probably get you some nourishment before we get underway with the better part of the day, if I may be so bold.”

“You’re right, of course. I should have taken care of myself earlier. That will most definitely need to be moved up on my list of priorities. Especially now that I see that I’ll also have to add a freaking cleansing to my schedule tonight.”

“Not to worry.” Zuri assured her. “I’ll make a note of everything.”

“Blessings. I don’t know what I’d do without you. And that being said…” her voice turned sour with disappointment as she shifted her attention back to her father, “why didn’t you just tell me that you’d been communing with the half-saber? Why avoid it?”

“Because I knew you’d be vexed.”

“I’d rather be a bit cross than have you struggle alone.”

“I wasn’t alone. Ayashe was with me. As was Aoleon, after a while.

“Regardless, we’re no longer at war. Haven’t been for years. If there’s no need for it, then you should let the blade rest. At least, until I can quiet it a bit more.”

“Of course sweetheart. Of course.”

“Then that settles it.” she decreed with a wide smile. “After I’ve concluded all of my work, I’ll see to my needs before mid-day and tonight after family dinner…which I know you’ll attend…” she eluded with a judging eye.

“Of course.” the king responded knowingly.

“We’ll all gather beyond the red room and I’ll conduct another cleansing. It’s long since due anyhow.”

“As you wish Love.”

Both she and Zuri’s smiles beamed satisfaction.

“Speaking of your work,” Samahdemn stated, “how’s the mending going for our injured owl from…what was it…a fortnight ago?”

“Wonderfully!” the princess exclaimed; quite proud of herself. “I checked the cast and made sure the bone was still setting properly. Her wing is well on its way to being better. She should be flying again in no time.”

“How long do you think?”

“At worst?” She looked to Lady Zuri who, after a moment of contemplation, held aloft a single finger with a shrug. “Another week?” Åålįÿåħ answered after accepting Zuri’s estimate. “Three to four days at best.”

“Wonderful. I’d expect no less from my favourite child.” he said with a mischievous smile.

Her dark eyebrows perked up. “Favourite? Really? Not Aoleon? I mean as much time as you spend with her…”

His mind flashed back to his earlier conversation with Aoleon. “Because you’re my eldest. My little girl. And my favourite child.” “She’s a very important woman.” he said aloud. “And she’s my first born. But she’s not you. You’re my youngest, and my most precious. My baby girl. Much rests on your shoulders, after all.”

She looked upon her father carefully, seeming to examine his words. Probably wondering how often he said that to her siblings. Then she turned to Zuri for conformation. But she was just as jovially skeptical. But then, apparently accepting it all as gospel truth, Åålįÿåħ threw her arms about Samahdemn and embraced him vigorously.

“Don’t tell your sister I said that. She’d get horribly jealous, after all.”

Releasing her father, Åålįÿåħ held up three ebony fingers with all of the seriousness that she could muster. “On my honor.” she promised.

“In point-of-fact, about your sister…how’d you like to practice your statecraft a bit?”

Her dark brow furrowed. “In what way?”

“It occurred to me just now that maybe she could use your assistance. She’s on her way to an important council meeting and it would do you good to be there with her.”

She looked as if she were allowing the idea to stew a moment; looking to the recessed ceiling and stroking with her long butterfly-styled locs in thought in a way that never failed to remind Samahdemn of her mother when he saw her do it which made the royal decorations that she wore upon them in spite of the work that she’d been doing in the dovecote jingle softly.

“Well, Lady Zuri and I were going to go to the mews to check on the birds we have down there moulting, but, sure. Why not? I’ve been meaning to get more face time with the Adviser of Coin anyway. I take issue with the amount of revenue he’s put toward the upcoming Bonfire Festivals.”

“Spending too much?”

Zuri nearly guffawed.

“Not spending enough!” said she. “You know the princess does so love a good festival.”

Åålįÿåħ nodded enthusiastically in affirmation of the statement.

“Well Obälumo, who am I to argue with that sort of logic?” the monarch agreed. “Your sister should have no problem getting him to budge off of the extra coin you want.” the castle lord said to his daughter.

“I was thinking the same thing. Especially with how he drags after her.”

Samahdemn and his children. Great minds always thinking alike.

“You’ve noticed it too have you?”

“Everybody notices it.”

“I swear.” he exclaimed jokingly. “the way everyone gossips around here…”

Åålįÿåħ shrugged. “Some people bring it upon themselves. This is a truth.”

“Well, if you truly plan on lending your voice to the proceedings, you should hurry to change and get to the council chamber. The proceedings will be starting soon. And just so you’re aware, there are some things that we’ll all need to discuss tonight over the dinner table. As a family.”

Åålįÿåħ’s eyes betrayed her overwhelming intrigue. “Things aside from the clensing? Sounds serious. What’s it about?”

“Not to worry. You’ll find out in due time. It’s nothing to stress over.”

“Hmm. Well, that’s not suspect at all.”

As Samahdem squinted curiously at her turn of phrase. “‘Suspect’?”

“It’s something the younger generation is saying these days.” Princess Åålįÿåħ clarified. “I mean to say that it doesn’t sound suspicious.”

“Ah. Then, no.” the lord agreed; his hesijuan accent alive with joviality. “It’s not ‘suspect’ in the slightest baby girl.”