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maderrSo I spent like a week in October working on Weathermage, then stopped b/c that wasn't fair since I was supposed to be doing it for nano.
Spent the first week of Nov not writing it, but now am picking it up again. This story, it breaks my brain. There are things I want to do, and one scene I really want to write -- but as of yet, I've no idea how the hell I'm getting to that scene. My brain, it likes to give me pieces, but then likes not to tell me how to connect them. Unlike goblin, whom I envy, I cannot write out of order either. So the torture.
Heh. Would anyone like to see a bit of it? Am planning to just release the whole thing on lulu, when it's done, since by the time it's finished and edited and polished, I should also have at least a fairytale book and maybe a book of general short stories ready too ^__^
But if you care, here is
I. Gather the Storm
Chapter One
"It's not that hard, Trell, I promise you," Meredith said soothingly, taking away the book gripped too-tightly in Trell's hands. "You're making it more difficult than it needs to be."
Trell pouted, an expression that should have looked obnoxious on his ten year old face but somehow only managed to look adorable.
Meredith laughed and tousled his hair. "Now, now, Trell. Let me see if I can explain, since your tutors are obviously not managing it."
Heaving a great sigh, looking like the most put upon ten year old in the world, Trell gloomily settled more comfortably on his bed and motioned for Meredith to begin.
Still chuckling, Meredith flipped open the book to the proper page. He did not require the book, of course, but Trell would make note of the pages and read them later.
"Magic is a blessing upon the people, gifted to us from the Six Lords of Life. What are the six classes of magic, Trell?"
Trell gave another sigh, but obediently recited, "Fire, water, wind, earth, sun, and moon."
"Good. Magic is broken down into six types and three tiers. What are the three tiers?"
"Low Magic, High Magic, Holy Magic."
Meredith nodded approvingly and turned the page. "Of these, the most common magic is the low elementals – low fire, earth, wind, and water. Their magic capability is not strong, but it is sufficient. Less common are the high elementals; they say only one person in a thousand is a true high mage. Why is that, Trell? Do you know?"
"They have to be…" Trell frowned in thought, "made just right?"
"Close enough," Meredith said, and turned the book to display the star chart on it. "High mages are conceived and born while the Star of Power is visible in the sky. It appears only once every thirty seven years, and is visible for one year before vanishing again." He pushed his hair back as it slipped forward over his shoulders, causing the tiny silver bells threaded through it to ring. "The Star of Power last appeared twenty seven years ago, so in ten years we will see it again and hopefully be blessed with new high mages."
Trell nodded, looking far less bored and frustrated than he had before. "So what about holy mages like you? Why can't I be one?"
"There is no explanation for the existence of holy mages except that we are the will of the gods. Holy mages, like all other mages, are born with an elemental strength. However, we are not limited to that one element, but can in some small measure use the magic of others."
Trell sat up, smiling eagerly now. "Like you're holy water but can start fires and help the plants grow?"
"Yes, exactly," Meredith said, stroking his hair in approval. "Now, what makes holy mages different from all the others?"
"They can take magic and become really strong," Trell said promptly, eyes taking on an even brighter gleam. "I watch you practice with the royal mages! You destroyed that house like it was nothing!"
Meredith kept back a grimace at the reminder of what he'd done only three days ago. That he was being trained primarily as a battle mage did not make him happy, especially in this age when the warring was finally over.
He turned to the next page and grew stern. "Now this is important, Trell. What are the laws guarding the use of mages for power?"
"Only take what is freely offered. Only take what is needed. Care for the mages depleted," Trell recited. "What's depleted?"
Meredith chuckled. "Depleted means drained of magic; it leaves a mage feeling extremely weak and tired. If a mage is willing to let me take his power and leave him weak, then it is my sacred duty to care for that mage until he is well again. Understand?"
"Like I have to take care of Charger after I'm done riding him?"
"Uh—yes, something like that," Meredith said, struggling not to be amused and mortified at hearing the royal mages likened to being cared for like a boy's favorite horse. "Moving on, let us discuss the two rare types of magic."
"Sun and moon," Trell said, sounding bored again. "My teacher said there's really no such thing."
Meredith frowned at that, and made a note to have the tutor's employment terminated. Such blasphemy was not to be tolerated. "It's true they're extremely rare; one has not been born for more than a hundred and fifty years now. In the history of the world, there have been five known sun mages and one moon mage. Why are they so rare?"
"They're really powerful?" Trell asked.
"Yes," Meredith replied. "A sun mage is both holy fire and holy earth. A moon mage is both holy water and holy wind. Which means…?"
Trell frowned. "Holy means they can take magic. If they're really strong in two elements, and can take magic…then they can do everything better than anyone else."
Meredith smiled. "Well said. The last sun mage appeared one hundred and fifty years ago, our noble ancestor, and he was the one to establish the first kingdom on this continent."
"I wanna be special," Trell said. "I'm just a dumb low mage."
Frowning, Meredith reached out and rapped him sharply on the head, then grabbed his chin and forced Trell to look at him. "Low mages are the backbone of everything. High and Holy mages are rare, and so cannot be too heavily relied upon. Without the low mages magic would suffer. More importantly, you are a prince of the realm. Other low mages will look to you for guidance and support, as one of their own in some way." He let go. "Understand?"
Trell nodded, a sullen expression on his face.
Meredith sighed and closed the book. "Be proud of what you are, Trell. You do not want to be what I am, trust me. I would much rather be a low mage."
The look of patent disbelief he got would have made him smile, if the matter were not so serious. He wished he could make his little brother see reason, but it was the nature of children – and even too many men – to think bigger was better.
He wondered what Trell would do if he knew Meredith was trained to attack and kill. That he still had nightmares about the lives he'd been forced to take while they struggled to overtake this last kingdom. He was not sorry for the conquering; it had been best for all to remove the sadistic bastard upon the throne and unite the disjointed countries once and for all, but he had been only nineteen when ordered to destroy so much.
That was not a life he wanted for Trell, and he secretly grateful that his brother had been born a low mage.
In the distance, the church bells began to ring, chiming the eighteenth hour.
Across the room, a figure stirred at the table where he had been watching still and silent all the while. He stood up and slowly moved to join them at the bed, holding out one gloved hand.
Meredith placed his own in it, allowing Lorccan to tug him to his feet. "Must we go?"
Lorccan smiled briefly, the expression a rare one on his face. "Unfortunately, your Highness."
"Very well, then. Trell, I will perhaps see you after dinner, if I can slip away before your bedtime."
Trell nodded and rose up on his knees to give him a brief, awkward hug. "Thank you, Meredith. You're much smarter than my dumb tutors, and you make sense."
"I am glad I could help," Meredith said, hugging him back and dropping a brief kiss on top of his head. "Now study until your dinner arrives, and when I return perhaps I'll have a treat or two for you."
"Yes, Meredith," Trell replied, obediently retrieving his book and settling back on his pillows to read.
Leaving him to it, Meredith allowed Lorccan to guide him from the room and down the hall to his own suite, where attendants already waited to help him dress for dinner.
"You are late, Highness," clucked the woman at the head of the half dozen servants, gray hair pinned back in a no nonsense bun. She gave him no chance to reply, merely started handing out orders, motioning for Meredith to come forward.
He obeyed, standing still while servants struggled with the intricate fastenings of his formal afternoon robes while still others began preparing his formal evening wear. Yet more hands were already working on his hair, removing the myriad bells which adorned the black strands.
When the torture was finally ended, he was dressed in layers of heavy robes, the first and last layers rich black, the middle layer of pale silver. The top layer was stitched with a swirling design meant to represent rushing water. His waist length hair had been pulled back from his face and secured with a silver comb, and the silver bells had been replaced by pearls. His slippers were as elaborate as the rest of the ensemble, and looking at himself in the mirror Meredith could only stifle a sigh.
He thanked all the servants and sent them on their way, then moved to sit carefully in his chair by the window.
Lorccan joined him, a calm and silent presence to which Meredith had long ago grown used. Having a constant shadow should chafe, but often Lorccan seemed to be his only friend.
His coloring was the most common on the continent; dark hair and eyes, dusky skin, but his broad build and roughly hewn features bespoke the northwestern blood of his sire. The bastard son of a nobleman and a slave woman, Lorccan had been dealt with quickly and quietly, made as a gift to the royal crown and thoroughly trained in the martial arts. At the age of ten, when Meredith was five, it was decided that someday Lorccan would be his bodyguard.
They'd been together from the moment Meredith turned ten, Lorccan fifteen – albeit with an older bodyguard for some time, but by the time he was twenty Lorccan had surpassed them all in skill.
Solemn, silent, and still. That was Lorccan.
"Father is trying to make everyone think I'm a moon mage," Meredith said wearily.
Lorccan said nothing, but Meredith knew he was listening and agreed.
"Clever, of course," he continued, staring out the window at the setting sun, the red, orange, violet, and blue of the horizon. "There have been several sun mages throughout history, scattered about the disjointed countries – the reasons, in fact, those countries broke apart from the whole. Only one moon mage has ever been recorded…"
"Weathermage," Lorccan said, voice rough from infrequent use, as solemn as his countenance. "That's what the natives here always called her."
Meredith nodded, resting his chin in one hand, propped on an armrest. "Yes, a weathermage. Mastery of wind and water, which means an ability to control storms…they say even the oceans could be bent to the will of the weathermage." He sat up straight and drummed his fingers absently on the polished wood of the armrests. "A good holy mage can manipulate storms to some measure, as well as any body of water to a slight degree…I wonder how much more a moon mage could do it. Perhaps it is a good thing no moon or sun mage exists. They none of them died well, and all young."
"The lightning is impressive enough for most people."
"Yes, until it is their homes I strike," Meredith said bitterly. "I hope I am never called upon to do something so horrendous again. The war is over; I wish father would leave it at that." He sighed softly as bells chimed. "We had best go."
Lorccan held out a hand, and Meredith accepted it, letting Lorccan pull him to his feet. They walked alongside each other as they traveled through the hallways, Lorccan dropping back a step only as they reached the great hall.
Conversation slowed nearly to a stop as he entered, the guards calling out his arrival, then came the shuffle of chairs as people stood to bow. Only his father, mother, and three sisters remained seated.
He took his seat on his father's right and bowed his head to the assembly, signaling them all to resume their seats. His father rang the bell between their plates, and servants promptly moved forward to begin serving the first course.
Meredith sipped at his wine as the food was laid out, looking thoughtfully over the assembly. All the usual were here, watching one another while trying not to be watched in their turn. Carefully idle and friendly chatter masked the less pleasant words being exchanged.
Sometimes, he wondered what it said about him that he called this pit of vipers home. It was his birthright, his holy destiny, to someday lead this reunited kingdom…but not even the gods could make him be happy about it.
Perhaps one day he would find the peace he so desperately sought, but right now he could only feel turmoil. He took another sip of wine and made careful note of who was talking to who – from there it was not hard to gauge the topics about which they spoke.
The war, though it had ended seven years ago. That the King was planning to conquer the lands beyond the seas. Who the crown prince would pick as his bride, for he surely must be ready to choose, he was already twenty six…
Only his long-honed skills permitted him to hide a grimace. With his sisters sat the latest princess to be trotted out before him; of the candidates, she was the most beneficial match – and reasonably pretty, he supposed. At least she could hold a decent conversation.
Setting his wine down, he began slowly to eat, taking small sips of the spicy soup of which he was fond. He was surprised it was being served at all; his mother and sisters despised it and father was usually willing to indulge them in the trivial matters.
Perhaps he was being softened up in the matter of the princess.
Well, they would have to try harder than his favorite soup. He would concede defeat eventually, but it was a battle he would continue to fight tenaciously – obstinately, his mother would say.
So be it. He had given in on everything else; they would not force a bride upon him.
He took a deep swallow of wine to banish thoughts of what he wanted before they could torment him. Indulging in such a desire would only come back to haunt him; as crown prince his every breath was noted and analyzed.
Oh, how he wanted. He envied those who could indulge in such passions, the nobles powerful enough to get away with it if they were discreet, the peasants who were allowed to do as they pleased so long as they kept to their work…
Another swallow of wine did nothing to banish his longing, and the already monotonous dinner became positively agonizing as it stretched on. Just when he felt like screaming, however, the fourth course was brought out and his father rang for the entertainments to begin.
The dancers were first, women in flashing dress whirling in a way that made Meredith envious. To behave so indecorously for one minute… He had tried dancing once, unable to resist. His mother had caught him, and reprimanded him soundly, and later his father had seen to it a beating was administered.
It was the last time he'd acted so base.
As the dancers whirled to a grand finale, they were replaced by the acrobats.
Memories stirred, as they always did when he watched them. Of a man tall and slender, his features sharp as a blade, pale blue eyes…and a cool laugh than never seemed to reach his eyes.
The last time Meredith had seen him, Leath the Jester had been banished alongside High Mage Gallatin. Traitors to their crown and the people, untrustworthy in the eyes of the new monarchy.
His mouth twisted with long-buried frustrations, too many of them, far too many, and he could do nothing but ignore them. Another swallow of wine dulled the bitterness, but only slightly.
He watched the acrobats avidly, admiring their easy movements, that they could move so unhindered. How splendid that would be, to move free of heavy, elaborate clothing…
Bah. Meredith finished his wine and called for more. This was why he hated these cursed banquets – they made him morose and sulky and self-pitying. He was the crown prince, about what did he have to sulk?
Nothing.
Setting his wine down, he clapped loudly for the acrobats, smiling and nodding at them as they departed. He would have to give serious thought to giving them his personal patronage. It would give him something pleasant to focus on when he needed a break.
The acrobats departed…and the musicians failed to appear to take their place.
Everyone sat in silence for a moment, but when the silence began to stretch on the whispers and murmurs began.
Frowning, the King rang his bell again.
Nothing.
Meredith shared a brief look with his father, their expressions saying nothing but their eyes plenty. Behind him, Meredith could sense Lorccan tensing.
The doors were pushed open – by the wind. He felt the work of magic like a flush of heat against his skin, and drew a sharp breath at the man who appeared in the doorway.
One of two faces he would never entirely forget. Handsome, charming, and an incredibly powerful mage, born under the Star of Power twenty seven years ago, blessed with the power of High Wing.
High Mage Gallatin, royal mage of the late king, one of two men who had betrayed him and helped bring about the fall of that royal family.
Here, when he had been banished. The latest reports had confirmed him as still being cloistered in a distant monastery, a mage who had given up his courtly life to live in prayer and solitude.
The man before him was no monk. Instead, he seemed the same charged man he had been before. Ash-blonde hair that spoke of his southern origins, for though he had been raised in this land he had not been born here. Skin tanned dark by the sun, eyes the color of an evening sky.
Meredith sat in silence as his father stood up, the voice of the King booming out across the room. "Traitor, you are not welcome here."
"I am no traitor," Gallatin replied coolly. "Never have I betrayed this land I call home. Only the fact I love this land still brings me to face your unwarranted hostility." The King made to speak, but a rush of wind sent dishes and glasses toppling, causing people to shriek in surprise and no small amount of fear.
Behind Gallatin the doors flew shut, sealing out the mages and guards who had come rushing to assist.
He stood beside his father, summoning his power, because he would not simply allow—
"Prince Ketterick lives," Gallatin said quietly.
Meredith stopped short. "What?" he demanded.
"That is impossible," the King snapped. "I killed him myself and saw the body thrown on the pyre. All the House of Rossun is dead – as you will shortly be."
Gallatin shook his head and once more loosed his power.
This time Meredith acted, throwing up one hand to counter the power of those winds. He was a match for Gallatin, but only just, and it would not last – a Holy Mage's strength came from drawing upon the power of others. Alone, he would have to hope he could finish Gallatin quickly, because in matter of endurance the High Mage would fair better.
This Gallatin of course knew.
His efforts won a smirk – and some small hint of approval. Meredith would have frowned at that, but a frown was something which could be read. He kept his expression blank. "High Mage, are your words true?"
"I would not risk my life by informing those who betrayed me of a remaining threat to their power if I did not know my words to be quite true."
There was logic there, Meredith could not deny it. Gallatin had no good reason to return here, except that he had proven most useful in finally defeating the House of Rossun.
"Ridiculous, I say," the King repeated. "Meredith, finish him."
Gallatin barred his teeth in a challenging smile. "Yes, finish me, little prince."
Meredith hesitated.
That one second was his undoing.
Everything happened fast.
He heard Lorccan cry out – then the cry was abruptly silenced.
When he spun around to see what had happened to his bodyguard, he found himself caught by pale blue eyes. Disbelief gave him pause, though he should have known that if Gallatin were here, Leath would be as well.
Then hands closed upon his, and Meredith cried out sharply as he was fed magic – too much of it, too great a level of power, and his own affinity at that. His skin felt feverishly hot, the energy of it making him tingle, and where such contact with low mages stirred a flush of excitement he had learned to master, the after effects of bonding with a High Mage was a rush akin to lust.
Too much, too much.
He moaned softly as the magic flooded his body, overwhelmed him. He struggled to master it, use it, but it was too much too fast and with another moan he let the darkness take him, his last thought that something smelled like the sea.
Spent the first week of Nov not writing it, but now am picking it up again. This story, it breaks my brain. There are things I want to do, and one scene I really want to write -- but as of yet, I've no idea how the hell I'm getting to that scene. My brain, it likes to give me pieces, but then likes not to tell me how to connect them. Unlike goblin, whom I envy, I cannot write out of order either. So the torture.
Heh. Would anyone like to see a bit of it? Am planning to just release the whole thing on lulu, when it's done, since by the time it's finished and edited and polished, I should also have at least a fairytale book and maybe a book of general short stories ready too ^__^
But if you care, here is
I. Gather the Storm
Chapter One
"It's not that hard, Trell, I promise you," Meredith said soothingly, taking away the book gripped too-tightly in Trell's hands. "You're making it more difficult than it needs to be."
Trell pouted, an expression that should have looked obnoxious on his ten year old face but somehow only managed to look adorable.
Meredith laughed and tousled his hair. "Now, now, Trell. Let me see if I can explain, since your tutors are obviously not managing it."
Heaving a great sigh, looking like the most put upon ten year old in the world, Trell gloomily settled more comfortably on his bed and motioned for Meredith to begin.
Still chuckling, Meredith flipped open the book to the proper page. He did not require the book, of course, but Trell would make note of the pages and read them later.
"Magic is a blessing upon the people, gifted to us from the Six Lords of Life. What are the six classes of magic, Trell?"
Trell gave another sigh, but obediently recited, "Fire, water, wind, earth, sun, and moon."
"Good. Magic is broken down into six types and three tiers. What are the three tiers?"
"Low Magic, High Magic, Holy Magic."
Meredith nodded approvingly and turned the page. "Of these, the most common magic is the low elementals – low fire, earth, wind, and water. Their magic capability is not strong, but it is sufficient. Less common are the high elementals; they say only one person in a thousand is a true high mage. Why is that, Trell? Do you know?"
"They have to be…" Trell frowned in thought, "made just right?"
"Close enough," Meredith said, and turned the book to display the star chart on it. "High mages are conceived and born while the Star of Power is visible in the sky. It appears only once every thirty seven years, and is visible for one year before vanishing again." He pushed his hair back as it slipped forward over his shoulders, causing the tiny silver bells threaded through it to ring. "The Star of Power last appeared twenty seven years ago, so in ten years we will see it again and hopefully be blessed with new high mages."
Trell nodded, looking far less bored and frustrated than he had before. "So what about holy mages like you? Why can't I be one?"
"There is no explanation for the existence of holy mages except that we are the will of the gods. Holy mages, like all other mages, are born with an elemental strength. However, we are not limited to that one element, but can in some small measure use the magic of others."
Trell sat up, smiling eagerly now. "Like you're holy water but can start fires and help the plants grow?"
"Yes, exactly," Meredith said, stroking his hair in approval. "Now, what makes holy mages different from all the others?"
"They can take magic and become really strong," Trell said promptly, eyes taking on an even brighter gleam. "I watch you practice with the royal mages! You destroyed that house like it was nothing!"
Meredith kept back a grimace at the reminder of what he'd done only three days ago. That he was being trained primarily as a battle mage did not make him happy, especially in this age when the warring was finally over.
He turned to the next page and grew stern. "Now this is important, Trell. What are the laws guarding the use of mages for power?"
"Only take what is freely offered. Only take what is needed. Care for the mages depleted," Trell recited. "What's depleted?"
Meredith chuckled. "Depleted means drained of magic; it leaves a mage feeling extremely weak and tired. If a mage is willing to let me take his power and leave him weak, then it is my sacred duty to care for that mage until he is well again. Understand?"
"Like I have to take care of Charger after I'm done riding him?"
"Uh—yes, something like that," Meredith said, struggling not to be amused and mortified at hearing the royal mages likened to being cared for like a boy's favorite horse. "Moving on, let us discuss the two rare types of magic."
"Sun and moon," Trell said, sounding bored again. "My teacher said there's really no such thing."
Meredith frowned at that, and made a note to have the tutor's employment terminated. Such blasphemy was not to be tolerated. "It's true they're extremely rare; one has not been born for more than a hundred and fifty years now. In the history of the world, there have been five known sun mages and one moon mage. Why are they so rare?"
"They're really powerful?" Trell asked.
"Yes," Meredith replied. "A sun mage is both holy fire and holy earth. A moon mage is both holy water and holy wind. Which means…?"
Trell frowned. "Holy means they can take magic. If they're really strong in two elements, and can take magic…then they can do everything better than anyone else."
Meredith smiled. "Well said. The last sun mage appeared one hundred and fifty years ago, our noble ancestor, and he was the one to establish the first kingdom on this continent."
"I wanna be special," Trell said. "I'm just a dumb low mage."
Frowning, Meredith reached out and rapped him sharply on the head, then grabbed his chin and forced Trell to look at him. "Low mages are the backbone of everything. High and Holy mages are rare, and so cannot be too heavily relied upon. Without the low mages magic would suffer. More importantly, you are a prince of the realm. Other low mages will look to you for guidance and support, as one of their own in some way." He let go. "Understand?"
Trell nodded, a sullen expression on his face.
Meredith sighed and closed the book. "Be proud of what you are, Trell. You do not want to be what I am, trust me. I would much rather be a low mage."
The look of patent disbelief he got would have made him smile, if the matter were not so serious. He wished he could make his little brother see reason, but it was the nature of children – and even too many men – to think bigger was better.
He wondered what Trell would do if he knew Meredith was trained to attack and kill. That he still had nightmares about the lives he'd been forced to take while they struggled to overtake this last kingdom. He was not sorry for the conquering; it had been best for all to remove the sadistic bastard upon the throne and unite the disjointed countries once and for all, but he had been only nineteen when ordered to destroy so much.
That was not a life he wanted for Trell, and he secretly grateful that his brother had been born a low mage.
In the distance, the church bells began to ring, chiming the eighteenth hour.
Across the room, a figure stirred at the table where he had been watching still and silent all the while. He stood up and slowly moved to join them at the bed, holding out one gloved hand.
Meredith placed his own in it, allowing Lorccan to tug him to his feet. "Must we go?"
Lorccan smiled briefly, the expression a rare one on his face. "Unfortunately, your Highness."
"Very well, then. Trell, I will perhaps see you after dinner, if I can slip away before your bedtime."
Trell nodded and rose up on his knees to give him a brief, awkward hug. "Thank you, Meredith. You're much smarter than my dumb tutors, and you make sense."
"I am glad I could help," Meredith said, hugging him back and dropping a brief kiss on top of his head. "Now study until your dinner arrives, and when I return perhaps I'll have a treat or two for you."
"Yes, Meredith," Trell replied, obediently retrieving his book and settling back on his pillows to read.
Leaving him to it, Meredith allowed Lorccan to guide him from the room and down the hall to his own suite, where attendants already waited to help him dress for dinner.
"You are late, Highness," clucked the woman at the head of the half dozen servants, gray hair pinned back in a no nonsense bun. She gave him no chance to reply, merely started handing out orders, motioning for Meredith to come forward.
He obeyed, standing still while servants struggled with the intricate fastenings of his formal afternoon robes while still others began preparing his formal evening wear. Yet more hands were already working on his hair, removing the myriad bells which adorned the black strands.
When the torture was finally ended, he was dressed in layers of heavy robes, the first and last layers rich black, the middle layer of pale silver. The top layer was stitched with a swirling design meant to represent rushing water. His waist length hair had been pulled back from his face and secured with a silver comb, and the silver bells had been replaced by pearls. His slippers were as elaborate as the rest of the ensemble, and looking at himself in the mirror Meredith could only stifle a sigh.
He thanked all the servants and sent them on their way, then moved to sit carefully in his chair by the window.
Lorccan joined him, a calm and silent presence to which Meredith had long ago grown used. Having a constant shadow should chafe, but often Lorccan seemed to be his only friend.
His coloring was the most common on the continent; dark hair and eyes, dusky skin, but his broad build and roughly hewn features bespoke the northwestern blood of his sire. The bastard son of a nobleman and a slave woman, Lorccan had been dealt with quickly and quietly, made as a gift to the royal crown and thoroughly trained in the martial arts. At the age of ten, when Meredith was five, it was decided that someday Lorccan would be his bodyguard.
They'd been together from the moment Meredith turned ten, Lorccan fifteen – albeit with an older bodyguard for some time, but by the time he was twenty Lorccan had surpassed them all in skill.
Solemn, silent, and still. That was Lorccan.
"Father is trying to make everyone think I'm a moon mage," Meredith said wearily.
Lorccan said nothing, but Meredith knew he was listening and agreed.
"Clever, of course," he continued, staring out the window at the setting sun, the red, orange, violet, and blue of the horizon. "There have been several sun mages throughout history, scattered about the disjointed countries – the reasons, in fact, those countries broke apart from the whole. Only one moon mage has ever been recorded…"
"Weathermage," Lorccan said, voice rough from infrequent use, as solemn as his countenance. "That's what the natives here always called her."
Meredith nodded, resting his chin in one hand, propped on an armrest. "Yes, a weathermage. Mastery of wind and water, which means an ability to control storms…they say even the oceans could be bent to the will of the weathermage." He sat up straight and drummed his fingers absently on the polished wood of the armrests. "A good holy mage can manipulate storms to some measure, as well as any body of water to a slight degree…I wonder how much more a moon mage could do it. Perhaps it is a good thing no moon or sun mage exists. They none of them died well, and all young."
"The lightning is impressive enough for most people."
"Yes, until it is their homes I strike," Meredith said bitterly. "I hope I am never called upon to do something so horrendous again. The war is over; I wish father would leave it at that." He sighed softly as bells chimed. "We had best go."
Lorccan held out a hand, and Meredith accepted it, letting Lorccan pull him to his feet. They walked alongside each other as they traveled through the hallways, Lorccan dropping back a step only as they reached the great hall.
Conversation slowed nearly to a stop as he entered, the guards calling out his arrival, then came the shuffle of chairs as people stood to bow. Only his father, mother, and three sisters remained seated.
He took his seat on his father's right and bowed his head to the assembly, signaling them all to resume their seats. His father rang the bell between their plates, and servants promptly moved forward to begin serving the first course.
Meredith sipped at his wine as the food was laid out, looking thoughtfully over the assembly. All the usual were here, watching one another while trying not to be watched in their turn. Carefully idle and friendly chatter masked the less pleasant words being exchanged.
Sometimes, he wondered what it said about him that he called this pit of vipers home. It was his birthright, his holy destiny, to someday lead this reunited kingdom…but not even the gods could make him be happy about it.
Perhaps one day he would find the peace he so desperately sought, but right now he could only feel turmoil. He took another sip of wine and made careful note of who was talking to who – from there it was not hard to gauge the topics about which they spoke.
The war, though it had ended seven years ago. That the King was planning to conquer the lands beyond the seas. Who the crown prince would pick as his bride, for he surely must be ready to choose, he was already twenty six…
Only his long-honed skills permitted him to hide a grimace. With his sisters sat the latest princess to be trotted out before him; of the candidates, she was the most beneficial match – and reasonably pretty, he supposed. At least she could hold a decent conversation.
Setting his wine down, he began slowly to eat, taking small sips of the spicy soup of which he was fond. He was surprised it was being served at all; his mother and sisters despised it and father was usually willing to indulge them in the trivial matters.
Perhaps he was being softened up in the matter of the princess.
Well, they would have to try harder than his favorite soup. He would concede defeat eventually, but it was a battle he would continue to fight tenaciously – obstinately, his mother would say.
So be it. He had given in on everything else; they would not force a bride upon him.
He took a deep swallow of wine to banish thoughts of what he wanted before they could torment him. Indulging in such a desire would only come back to haunt him; as crown prince his every breath was noted and analyzed.
Oh, how he wanted. He envied those who could indulge in such passions, the nobles powerful enough to get away with it if they were discreet, the peasants who were allowed to do as they pleased so long as they kept to their work…
Another swallow of wine did nothing to banish his longing, and the already monotonous dinner became positively agonizing as it stretched on. Just when he felt like screaming, however, the fourth course was brought out and his father rang for the entertainments to begin.
The dancers were first, women in flashing dress whirling in a way that made Meredith envious. To behave so indecorously for one minute… He had tried dancing once, unable to resist. His mother had caught him, and reprimanded him soundly, and later his father had seen to it a beating was administered.
It was the last time he'd acted so base.
As the dancers whirled to a grand finale, they were replaced by the acrobats.
Memories stirred, as they always did when he watched them. Of a man tall and slender, his features sharp as a blade, pale blue eyes…and a cool laugh than never seemed to reach his eyes.
The last time Meredith had seen him, Leath the Jester had been banished alongside High Mage Gallatin. Traitors to their crown and the people, untrustworthy in the eyes of the new monarchy.
His mouth twisted with long-buried frustrations, too many of them, far too many, and he could do nothing but ignore them. Another swallow of wine dulled the bitterness, but only slightly.
He watched the acrobats avidly, admiring their easy movements, that they could move so unhindered. How splendid that would be, to move free of heavy, elaborate clothing…
Bah. Meredith finished his wine and called for more. This was why he hated these cursed banquets – they made him morose and sulky and self-pitying. He was the crown prince, about what did he have to sulk?
Nothing.
Setting his wine down, he clapped loudly for the acrobats, smiling and nodding at them as they departed. He would have to give serious thought to giving them his personal patronage. It would give him something pleasant to focus on when he needed a break.
The acrobats departed…and the musicians failed to appear to take their place.
Everyone sat in silence for a moment, but when the silence began to stretch on the whispers and murmurs began.
Frowning, the King rang his bell again.
Nothing.
Meredith shared a brief look with his father, their expressions saying nothing but their eyes plenty. Behind him, Meredith could sense Lorccan tensing.
The doors were pushed open – by the wind. He felt the work of magic like a flush of heat against his skin, and drew a sharp breath at the man who appeared in the doorway.
One of two faces he would never entirely forget. Handsome, charming, and an incredibly powerful mage, born under the Star of Power twenty seven years ago, blessed with the power of High Wing.
High Mage Gallatin, royal mage of the late king, one of two men who had betrayed him and helped bring about the fall of that royal family.
Here, when he had been banished. The latest reports had confirmed him as still being cloistered in a distant monastery, a mage who had given up his courtly life to live in prayer and solitude.
The man before him was no monk. Instead, he seemed the same charged man he had been before. Ash-blonde hair that spoke of his southern origins, for though he had been raised in this land he had not been born here. Skin tanned dark by the sun, eyes the color of an evening sky.
Meredith sat in silence as his father stood up, the voice of the King booming out across the room. "Traitor, you are not welcome here."
"I am no traitor," Gallatin replied coolly. "Never have I betrayed this land I call home. Only the fact I love this land still brings me to face your unwarranted hostility." The King made to speak, but a rush of wind sent dishes and glasses toppling, causing people to shriek in surprise and no small amount of fear.
Behind Gallatin the doors flew shut, sealing out the mages and guards who had come rushing to assist.
He stood beside his father, summoning his power, because he would not simply allow—
"Prince Ketterick lives," Gallatin said quietly.
Meredith stopped short. "What?" he demanded.
"That is impossible," the King snapped. "I killed him myself and saw the body thrown on the pyre. All the House of Rossun is dead – as you will shortly be."
Gallatin shook his head and once more loosed his power.
This time Meredith acted, throwing up one hand to counter the power of those winds. He was a match for Gallatin, but only just, and it would not last – a Holy Mage's strength came from drawing upon the power of others. Alone, he would have to hope he could finish Gallatin quickly, because in matter of endurance the High Mage would fair better.
This Gallatin of course knew.
His efforts won a smirk – and some small hint of approval. Meredith would have frowned at that, but a frown was something which could be read. He kept his expression blank. "High Mage, are your words true?"
"I would not risk my life by informing those who betrayed me of a remaining threat to their power if I did not know my words to be quite true."
There was logic there, Meredith could not deny it. Gallatin had no good reason to return here, except that he had proven most useful in finally defeating the House of Rossun.
"Ridiculous, I say," the King repeated. "Meredith, finish him."
Gallatin barred his teeth in a challenging smile. "Yes, finish me, little prince."
Meredith hesitated.
That one second was his undoing.
Everything happened fast.
He heard Lorccan cry out – then the cry was abruptly silenced.
When he spun around to see what had happened to his bodyguard, he found himself caught by pale blue eyes. Disbelief gave him pause, though he should have known that if Gallatin were here, Leath would be as well.
Then hands closed upon his, and Meredith cried out sharply as he was fed magic – too much of it, too great a level of power, and his own affinity at that. His skin felt feverishly hot, the energy of it making him tingle, and where such contact with low mages stirred a flush of excitement he had learned to master, the after effects of bonding with a High Mage was a rush akin to lust.
Too much, too much.
He moaned softly as the magic flooded his body, overwhelmed him. He struggled to master it, use it, but it was too much too fast and with another moan he let the darkness take him, his last thought that something smelled like the sea.
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Date: 2007-11-11 02:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-11 03:10 pm (UTC)So, I'll just have to send good vibes your way for you to be able to 'see' the scenes you need to write and then wait, patiently, for Lulu. ^__^
Also, I can see why the king wouldn't want to keep the traitors around, even though they had helped him in betraying their king, but boy would I be pissed! And, I hope Lorccan isn't dead. *pets him* But, c'est la vie, if so.
Happy writing!!!
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Date: 2007-11-11 03:24 pm (UTC)more, pretty please?
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Date: 2007-11-11 03:40 pm (UTC)Good writing. *goes to find out what Lulu is*
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Date: 2007-11-11 04:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-11 04:45 pm (UTC)Random questions:
-Will that "book of general short stories" include that untitled thief-story? *looks hopeful*
-Do you have any materials already published on Lulu?
-I'm assuming your cold is better?
Thank you for this excerpt and I hope you figure out how to tie in the different pieces in the story without much pain!
Falconer
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Date: 2007-11-11 04:48 pm (UTC)^__^ I hope it lives up to the promise of the snippets so far posted.
Answers:
-It will ^_^
-I do not. Slakz0r!me ^^;;;
-More allergies than a cold, and yus, for the time they seem to be behaving. Thankee.
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Date: 2007-11-11 04:51 pm (UTC)(Is it ok to reply to other comments like that? I don't want to presume...lol)
But I hope that helped, Charisstoma!
Cheers,
Falconer
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Date: 2007-11-11 04:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-11 05:14 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-11 05:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-11 05:56 pm (UTC)BTW, I do hope the Lulu books come out before mid-december since I'll be out of the country by then and in asia :( And it's scary how much I think about the fairytales...
*rereads chapter*
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Date: 2007-11-11 06:03 pm (UTC)ummm...old age...pressures of life..mind like a rusty steel trap..missed this (maybe, will have to check if I commented, cause I ususally do if I read maderr's stories)
Thanks.
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Date: 2007-11-11 06:10 pm (UTC)You have to trust your brain, because it is always working for you. I am always pleasantly surprised when I suddenyl realize how to connect separate scenes - I think it is there in the subconscious all along.
Anyway, it is equally frustrating to write out of order. Because I have like thousands of words in this one scene, but it does not come until so much later in Greg's story that I cannot show anyone.
Now, on to the good stuff - I can't decide which guy I find hotter, Meredith, Lorccan, or Gallatin. Probably I will go with Gallatin, just because he talks like a cold bastard and bared his teeth at Meredith. Hotttttt. And poor Meredith! I am with everyone else on this, I want more. And I think it is awesomely hilarious that magic is warm and sexy - it makes me think that all the mages must be nymphos.
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Date: 2007-11-11 06:11 pm (UTC)*feigns surprise* Oh, that Leath and Gallatin.
We'll add idiot to that too, shall we.
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Date: 2007-11-11 07:57 pm (UTC)I have found I loath endings like this... cause it just begs for more...
What is lulu? I've heard (seen actually) it mentioned several times, but I don't know what it is.
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Date: 2007-11-11 09:37 pm (UTC)And... I'm pretty particular about what I chose to read, but I would buy any- and all- of your writing if you publish. So I'm wishing you the very very best with Lulu! (And I'm dying to read more of this story. Ahhhhh, you're so cruel to tease and leave it off there).
Thank you for all of your wonderful stories; they're beautiful and so inspiring. ♥ I can never get enough.
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Date: 2007-11-11 11:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-11 11:40 pm (UTC)Aw, now. I know all about being a poor college student. I would not leave my lovely peeps hanging. One way or the other, you will be able to obtain sparkly ^_^
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Date: 2007-11-11 11:44 pm (UTC)Aha, I never mind ^__^
#^_^# Thankee! I am flattered liek woah.
Writers are all torturers at heart? They don't let us do spanish inquisitions, so we write instead (I'm so going to hell for that crack >.>)
Thank you ^___^
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Date: 2007-11-12 01:01 am (UTC)*stepping out from stalkerdom*
Date: 2007-11-12 01:24 am (UTC)This chapter left my heart racing, hard to breathe, and OH BOY IT WAS BRILLIANT.
The plot (that I can see so far) is good; the characters are lovable (I like Meredith already). The political situation, and the whole system of magic, has me drooling over my keyboard.
Can I
stalkfriend you? Please?Re: *stepping out from stalkerdom*
Date: 2007-11-12 01:26 am (UTC)^___^ You totally don't have to ask.
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Date: 2007-11-12 01:26 am (UTC)Wow, that's an impressive number for one chapter ^^;;;; Hee hee.
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Date: 2007-11-12 02:05 am (UTC)see, you write awesomely. (although i'm confused by the sentence 'they none of them died well.' perky thought, though). you don't even write just plot, you write complicated, _thoughtful_ plot. with occasional smut. and that just makes my life better.
as for paying for the sparklies, let me know when and where, and given enough heads up on price, i shall figure out a way. i'm all about supporting authors' eating habits.
Great story
Date: 2007-11-12 02:08 am (UTC)Re: *stepping out from stalkerdom*
Date: 2007-11-12 04:53 am (UTC)And publish!!
Although I'm not quite sure how to buy your novels, since I don't do online transactions anymore; someone hacked the equivalent of $200 America dollars from my account, and I no longer use my credit cards online. :(
And you write much better than a LOT of authors I've read; you are at least in the top 100, and that list includes Tolkien and Virgil. :)
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Date: 2007-11-12 10:43 am (UTC)...But I love you anyway. If you put this on Lulu, can I send you a cash order, and then you send me the book? (And I wants it autographed.)
I think Meredith just stole my soul.
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Date: 2007-11-12 09:49 pm (UTC)Does the fairytale book for lulu include the new version of Maine Gauche?
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Date: 2007-11-12 10:31 pm (UTC)2) *______* long hair
3) kyah! more!
lovelove
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Date: 2008-01-17 10:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-08 09:31 pm (UTC)I was wondering if this is on lulu yet. Have been looking for it..can't find it thought
Thanks
VT