Post by hawksandfeathers on Nov 24, 2012 5:27:02 GMT 10
Title: Opposite Forces
Summary: While still friends with Ozorne in Carthak, Numair realizes they will likely go separate paths.
Rating: PG
Author's Notes: Present is in italics, past is in regular.
That day, a lot of things went wrong between the two of us.
"Ozorne -"
"Emperor Ozorne, my friend." He smiled cruelly, his amber eyes flashing.
"Ah," I said, straining to hold back a disgusted noise.
"I will see you at dinner, Arram. You will be in the library, yes? I shall have to send one of my servants to fetch you." I smelled mint and curry on his breath, as well as an unpleasant mixture of sweat and too much flower scent.
"Most probable," I answered neutrally. I would not give in to his childish remarks, nor bow down to his false grip on the palace of Carthak.
"Good evening." The man nodded once, and looked me over with bemused eyes.
"To you as well, Your Imperial Majesty," I replied through gritted teeth.
He was jealous again. To be the new emperor and to already hold grudges... Carthak would be quite interesting, with him as a ruler. And, I thought, another bout of rage making my thoughts race, what was there to even be jealous of? I paced back and forth in the library, shaking my head.
It had been sunny outside; we were in the royal gardens. Ozorne was sitting on a bed of flowers, chewing on a piece of grass thoughtfully. He looked at me.
"Arram, are you gonna be a mage?"
"Yes, 'course, Ozorne."
"Really? Do you know basic spells and stuff?"
I smiled proudly. "Chioke said I could be one of the greatest mages in the Eastern and Southern lands."
"Wow," he said, his voice filled with awe.
"Once I set fire to a whole tree," I stated, sitting up straighter.
"Gods! A whole tree?"
"Yes." I smiled again.
His voice was higher than usual as he fidgeted with his elegant vest. "D'you think I could do that?"
"Maybe." I lolled on the grass and stretched my foot up. I imagined it would reach the sky, as high as my power would go, even higher. I wanted to be a black robe, the highest rank for mages in all the land. I would meet Mithros and the Goddess and kill evil creatures -
"Maybe? I'm sure I could." Ozorne said sulkily, chewing hard on his piece of grass.
"I guess you ought to try then," I said lightly.
Ozorne looked at me again, I could sense something in his eyes.
I turned my head to the sky, the sun blinding me.
"Maybe I ought to." His mouth was set.
I laughed, trying to break the tension and the sudden air of seriousness around us, but it echoed in eerie silence.
We stayed without speaking for a while, not looking at each other, letting our feelings swirl like a thick fog, preventing us from meeting each other's eyes.
"Highness!" A chirpy voice interrupted. She bustled forward to Ozorne. "Oh, look at your tunic, it's all stained. Come to bathe!"
"Yes, Alina." He didn't even look back as he trailed behind her up to the palace.
If his face had been visible, the smooth features would be distorted with an ugly snicker; his dark eyes would sparkle with malevolence and seeds of hatred.
But I did not see.
I woke up, the palace was in uproar. Maids were screaming, pots and pans were clanging, footmen were shouting. "Get the mages! Get them! Now!"
I jumped out of bed, bewildered. What was going on? I was at the palace, wasn't I? I'd been staying there for days...
Shaken, I sniffed the air; my nostrils flared. Smoke. I threw open the door and ran, following the scent. In the dark, I smashed into a broad-shouldered man, at least twice as tall as I was. Later on, I would grow to be taller, but I was only seven then. I shook my head to clear my thoughts. "What's happening? Where's -"
"There's something going on in the stables, boy. Where've you been?" The man growled, his moustache quivering.
"I..."
"Go on, do something!" He shoved his big hand into my back. I yelped and forced myself forward, still sluggish with lack of sleep.
My tired legs took me through the halls, never stopping to look at the beautiful structure of the palace. My feet slapped the ground, wearing the soles in my slippers, but I kept on running. It was dark. Where was Ozorne? Had the maid heard the commotion? Tired and disoriented, I sat in the middle of the cold stone floor, pulling my knees up against my chest, shivering. I smelled the smoke again, I thought of the stables, the horses ... no. With difficulty I half-ran, half-limped my way through the hall. Squinting in the distance, I saw faint moonlight; I was close to an outdoor entrance. Soon the rhythm of my panting joined the slap of my slippers on the smooth flagstones, and a burning pain tore at my side and chest. I skidded to a stop and held my legs for support. I...couldn't...do this...anymore...
But I could. One last burst of strength brought me outside, through the arched opening to the stables. And what I saw there was nothing I could believe until now.
Huge fires enveloped the rows and rows of stalls—at the smell of smoke the horses had already fled, had crashed through the doors and into the night. Muddy hoof marks were still visible by the fire and moonlight. The fire, the devouring demon, crackled wickedly, feasting on fresh wood and spreading in the wind without mercy.
I stood there dumbly; I couldn't move. My arms felt like rocks on my side; my tongue weighed me down and I couldn't utter a word. Already coughing from the smoke, I knew I had to do something, and do it fast. I drew in a shaky breath, remembering the spell. My chest heaved.
"Wavewalker, guide me,
Take your water and save me,
Bring up the Leviathan,
Bring up your wave -"
"Extinguish the fire in the Wavewalker's name."
A man had finished the spell for me. A huge globe of water appeared slowly in his hands, and he aimed it at the stables, controlling it with his movements. It covered the wooden stalls in a huge wave and splashed and foamed over the fire until there was nothing left but charred, blackened pieces of oak.
"Mithros, guide me -" I started to say, but the man put a finger on his lips.
"Shh," he said in a harsh whisper. "Get back to your rooms."
"Yes, Master," I said, and tore down the hall in the midst of chaos. People had gathered while the man did his work, shouting and cheering, but I had been in the shadows. Nobody saw me slip down the hall and into my chambers.
The sky was a clear blue that morning; the birds chirped their gladness to the god of the sun, Mithros. I was filled with anticipation - there was to be a royal meeting that morning. The emperor, furious with the outcome of the fires, had demanded to know who had ignited them, and I was invited to come along as the heir's special companion. I slipped into my calf-length traditional black robe, and ran my fingers through my already-long hair.
"Arram, time to get to the courtrooms!" A maid had come in and was gesturing to me. "Come, master, you're late!" Her voice was sing-song and carefree as she ushered me out the door. Despite this tone, the anticipation in her voice was plain - she knew something was awry and that I had been involved.
"Yes, I'm coming." I smoothed my fingers through my hair one last time, and rushed past the maid down to the rooms where the meeting was to be held. As I neared closer to the mahogany doors, the back of my neck began to glisten with sweat; my breathing came in shallow gasps. They knew I had been there. Of course, they suspected me. Why else would I be invited to come besides being companion to the heir? The emperor could be doing this without my presence.
Don't be silly, my other voice chided, of course they don't know you were with the man. You were the one about to save them.
I wasn't convinced. Slowing my pace to a walk, I stopped in front of polished entrance to the courtrooms. A footman was there, waiting for attendees.
"Ah, 'tis you, master Draper." He stepped aside and opened the doors, coming in behind me. They swung closed, and he cleared his throat. "Arram Draper, Your Imperial Majesty," he announced to the emperor, his voice echoing against the marble walls. The ruler acknowledged my presence with a curt nod. Again, the footman cleared his throat awkwardly and left.
"You may be seated, master Draper," the emperor said, distant and cold.
Silently, I sat in a place closer to the dais, as the emperor had indicated.
"Now, everyone is present," the emperor said in his clear voice. "We may begin."
The magistrate questioned many witnesses of the fire, interrogating them harshly. He did not address or acknowledge any comment uttered not concerning last night's event, and when such things were brought up, the man cut them off. Finally, the emperor turned slowly in his chair, toward his son, who had been smiling throughout the whole procession. The emperor's voice was soft, though in a way hard and unfeeling. He was not known to show much affection to anyone, even to his heir and only son.
"Do you know who committed this crime, Ozorne? Do you know who burned our horses' shelters and lost us many of our mounts?"
Ozorne sat high in his small, cushioned throne, his lips fighting not to grin. Without even a quiver of hand, he slowly raised his finger and pointed it at me.
I blew out one of the many candles in the library, and breathed deeply. Yes, I remembered it as vividly as if it happened yesterday. They had never been the same to me after that. I was cast as a deceiving liar to the emperor's most loyal subjects, and a careless young boy to the rest. With a sigh, I leaned back in the cushioned chair, rubbing my eyes wearily as I looked at the wooden desk beside me. There was a jug of wine almost overflowing with a crystal glass placed invitingly near it. I uncorked it and poured, letting the comforting sound wash over me and savouring the warm feeling coursing down my throat even more. When I finished, I set the glass down with a dull clunk and closed my eyes.
Shortly after, a maid appeared at the door. "Dinner, Master Salmalin," she sang. "Roasted eels and crushed bean and currant stew, and many other tempting things, Master."
I forced myself up, unfolding my tall figure with effort, and strode out the door.
Ozorne had indeed fulfilled his promise. Today, at least.
Summary: While still friends with Ozorne in Carthak, Numair realizes they will likely go separate paths.
Rating: PG
Author's Notes: Present is in italics, past is in regular.
That day, a lot of things went wrong between the two of us.
"Ozorne -"
"Emperor Ozorne, my friend." He smiled cruelly, his amber eyes flashing.
"Ah," I said, straining to hold back a disgusted noise.
"I will see you at dinner, Arram. You will be in the library, yes? I shall have to send one of my servants to fetch you." I smelled mint and curry on his breath, as well as an unpleasant mixture of sweat and too much flower scent.
"Most probable," I answered neutrally. I would not give in to his childish remarks, nor bow down to his false grip on the palace of Carthak.
"Good evening." The man nodded once, and looked me over with bemused eyes.
"To you as well, Your Imperial Majesty," I replied through gritted teeth.
He was jealous again. To be the new emperor and to already hold grudges... Carthak would be quite interesting, with him as a ruler. And, I thought, another bout of rage making my thoughts race, what was there to even be jealous of? I paced back and forth in the library, shaking my head.
It had been sunny outside; we were in the royal gardens. Ozorne was sitting on a bed of flowers, chewing on a piece of grass thoughtfully. He looked at me.
"Arram, are you gonna be a mage?"
"Yes, 'course, Ozorne."
"Really? Do you know basic spells and stuff?"
I smiled proudly. "Chioke said I could be one of the greatest mages in the Eastern and Southern lands."
"Wow," he said, his voice filled with awe.
"Once I set fire to a whole tree," I stated, sitting up straighter.
"Gods! A whole tree?"
"Yes." I smiled again.
His voice was higher than usual as he fidgeted with his elegant vest. "D'you think I could do that?"
"Maybe." I lolled on the grass and stretched my foot up. I imagined it would reach the sky, as high as my power would go, even higher. I wanted to be a black robe, the highest rank for mages in all the land. I would meet Mithros and the Goddess and kill evil creatures -
"Maybe? I'm sure I could." Ozorne said sulkily, chewing hard on his piece of grass.
"I guess you ought to try then," I said lightly.
Ozorne looked at me again, I could sense something in his eyes.
I turned my head to the sky, the sun blinding me.
"Maybe I ought to." His mouth was set.
I laughed, trying to break the tension and the sudden air of seriousness around us, but it echoed in eerie silence.
We stayed without speaking for a while, not looking at each other, letting our feelings swirl like a thick fog, preventing us from meeting each other's eyes.
"Highness!" A chirpy voice interrupted. She bustled forward to Ozorne. "Oh, look at your tunic, it's all stained. Come to bathe!"
"Yes, Alina." He didn't even look back as he trailed behind her up to the palace.
If his face had been visible, the smooth features would be distorted with an ugly snicker; his dark eyes would sparkle with malevolence and seeds of hatred.
But I did not see.
I woke up, the palace was in uproar. Maids were screaming, pots and pans were clanging, footmen were shouting. "Get the mages! Get them! Now!"
I jumped out of bed, bewildered. What was going on? I was at the palace, wasn't I? I'd been staying there for days...
Shaken, I sniffed the air; my nostrils flared. Smoke. I threw open the door and ran, following the scent. In the dark, I smashed into a broad-shouldered man, at least twice as tall as I was. Later on, I would grow to be taller, but I was only seven then. I shook my head to clear my thoughts. "What's happening? Where's -"
"There's something going on in the stables, boy. Where've you been?" The man growled, his moustache quivering.
"I..."
"Go on, do something!" He shoved his big hand into my back. I yelped and forced myself forward, still sluggish with lack of sleep.
My tired legs took me through the halls, never stopping to look at the beautiful structure of the palace. My feet slapped the ground, wearing the soles in my slippers, but I kept on running. It was dark. Where was Ozorne? Had the maid heard the commotion? Tired and disoriented, I sat in the middle of the cold stone floor, pulling my knees up against my chest, shivering. I smelled the smoke again, I thought of the stables, the horses ... no. With difficulty I half-ran, half-limped my way through the hall. Squinting in the distance, I saw faint moonlight; I was close to an outdoor entrance. Soon the rhythm of my panting joined the slap of my slippers on the smooth flagstones, and a burning pain tore at my side and chest. I skidded to a stop and held my legs for support. I...couldn't...do this...anymore...
But I could. One last burst of strength brought me outside, through the arched opening to the stables. And what I saw there was nothing I could believe until now.
Huge fires enveloped the rows and rows of stalls—at the smell of smoke the horses had already fled, had crashed through the doors and into the night. Muddy hoof marks were still visible by the fire and moonlight. The fire, the devouring demon, crackled wickedly, feasting on fresh wood and spreading in the wind without mercy.
I stood there dumbly; I couldn't move. My arms felt like rocks on my side; my tongue weighed me down and I couldn't utter a word. Already coughing from the smoke, I knew I had to do something, and do it fast. I drew in a shaky breath, remembering the spell. My chest heaved.
"Wavewalker, guide me,
Take your water and save me,
Bring up the Leviathan,
Bring up your wave -"
"Extinguish the fire in the Wavewalker's name."
A man had finished the spell for me. A huge globe of water appeared slowly in his hands, and he aimed it at the stables, controlling it with his movements. It covered the wooden stalls in a huge wave and splashed and foamed over the fire until there was nothing left but charred, blackened pieces of oak.
"Mithros, guide me -" I started to say, but the man put a finger on his lips.
"Shh," he said in a harsh whisper. "Get back to your rooms."
"Yes, Master," I said, and tore down the hall in the midst of chaos. People had gathered while the man did his work, shouting and cheering, but I had been in the shadows. Nobody saw me slip down the hall and into my chambers.
The sky was a clear blue that morning; the birds chirped their gladness to the god of the sun, Mithros. I was filled with anticipation - there was to be a royal meeting that morning. The emperor, furious with the outcome of the fires, had demanded to know who had ignited them, and I was invited to come along as the heir's special companion. I slipped into my calf-length traditional black robe, and ran my fingers through my already-long hair.
"Arram, time to get to the courtrooms!" A maid had come in and was gesturing to me. "Come, master, you're late!" Her voice was sing-song and carefree as she ushered me out the door. Despite this tone, the anticipation in her voice was plain - she knew something was awry and that I had been involved.
"Yes, I'm coming." I smoothed my fingers through my hair one last time, and rushed past the maid down to the rooms where the meeting was to be held. As I neared closer to the mahogany doors, the back of my neck began to glisten with sweat; my breathing came in shallow gasps. They knew I had been there. Of course, they suspected me. Why else would I be invited to come besides being companion to the heir? The emperor could be doing this without my presence.
Don't be silly, my other voice chided, of course they don't know you were with the man. You were the one about to save them.
I wasn't convinced. Slowing my pace to a walk, I stopped in front of polished entrance to the courtrooms. A footman was there, waiting for attendees.
"Ah, 'tis you, master Draper." He stepped aside and opened the doors, coming in behind me. They swung closed, and he cleared his throat. "Arram Draper, Your Imperial Majesty," he announced to the emperor, his voice echoing against the marble walls. The ruler acknowledged my presence with a curt nod. Again, the footman cleared his throat awkwardly and left.
"You may be seated, master Draper," the emperor said, distant and cold.
Silently, I sat in a place closer to the dais, as the emperor had indicated.
"Now, everyone is present," the emperor said in his clear voice. "We may begin."
The magistrate questioned many witnesses of the fire, interrogating them harshly. He did not address or acknowledge any comment uttered not concerning last night's event, and when such things were brought up, the man cut them off. Finally, the emperor turned slowly in his chair, toward his son, who had been smiling throughout the whole procession. The emperor's voice was soft, though in a way hard and unfeeling. He was not known to show much affection to anyone, even to his heir and only son.
"Do you know who committed this crime, Ozorne? Do you know who burned our horses' shelters and lost us many of our mounts?"
Ozorne sat high in his small, cushioned throne, his lips fighting not to grin. Without even a quiver of hand, he slowly raised his finger and pointed it at me.
I blew out one of the many candles in the library, and breathed deeply. Yes, I remembered it as vividly as if it happened yesterday. They had never been the same to me after that. I was cast as a deceiving liar to the emperor's most loyal subjects, and a careless young boy to the rest. With a sigh, I leaned back in the cushioned chair, rubbing my eyes wearily as I looked at the wooden desk beside me. There was a jug of wine almost overflowing with a crystal glass placed invitingly near it. I uncorked it and poured, letting the comforting sound wash over me and savouring the warm feeling coursing down my throat even more. When I finished, I set the glass down with a dull clunk and closed my eyes.
Shortly after, a maid appeared at the door. "Dinner, Master Salmalin," she sang. "Roasted eels and crushed bean and currant stew, and many other tempting things, Master."
I forced myself up, unfolding my tall figure with effort, and strode out the door.
Ozorne had indeed fulfilled his promise. Today, at least.
Maybe once we'd have seen it during Smackdown!