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| The Reality of All Things | | Print | |
| Contributed by san diablo | ||
| Wednesday, 14 June 2006 | ||
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The Reality of all Things Book One: Divine Rydeiar Chapter One: Tainted Blood "Progressive Fantasy".... strong language, narrators with mental disorders, high fashion, good sex, bad ideas, mild drug use, violence and foul language Chapter One of Book One, I have about 20 more chapters... will post more if people are into it... Editing in process. . .. . . . .. (last part of chapter below) I took my seat next to the head of the table, next to Aires, by my brother and across from my mother, the Queen. I glanced around to the murmuring crowd, and saw the furthest seats from us taken up by strangers. I recognized an older man who must have been Ziones. He resembled my father with black, graying hair and steely grey eyes. He was small built, but held an air of confidence. Several men sat beside him, and they were in black and green uniforms. Surrounding the entranceways to the hall were all Aires most trusted knights. I noticed Wesker to my right with Bennet next to him. They were at attention, holding halberds. Wesker’s eyes darted to mine briefly, and without moving, he gave me the slightest smile. Then, he returned staring straight ahead. I looked to my brother, who was also dressed in the black-thorned, ceremonial outfit. He looked rather sullen, but an intensity burned in his eyes. He nodded to me, “Sister.” Tietos stood, “Attention, good sires and madams. On behalf of the Kingdom Rydeiar, we welcome you into our home.” He paused in the silence and glanced at Dresden, who nodded. “Please, enjoy the meal we have prepared.” Servants began to bring out the appetizers and wine. When everyone had been served, Ziones stood. Immediately, silence seized all conversation. He raised his glass. “I wish to propose a toast. In honor of our father, King Dresden the Second, and his rightful heir by blood, King Dresden Rydeiar the Third. Long live his highness…” He smiled at us and drank. “Hear hear!’ everyone drank to that, except Sir Aires, who remained glaring hatefully at my uncle. Ziones grinned back at him. My mother began drinking with a ferocity usually only reserved for her birthday. She kept waving to the waiters to bring her more. Dresden spoke then, his tone carefully controlled and surprisingly commanding. I was impressed with the authority he mastered so quickly. “My dear uncle, of whom I’ve never laid eyes upon. Do you suddenly appear from the fringes of the Rhine to bring news of your province?” “How funny you should ask, nephew.” Ziones dabbed his beard with a napkin. “I recently gained word of my beloved brother’s death. Word travels slowly south, I’m afraid. Thus I could not make an appearance at his funeral.” “Funny, the King of Rhine did manage to, and isn’t he even further south than your villa?” Dresden smiled charmingly. “Well I’m afraid the messenger must have skipped our humble town.” Ziones almost growled. “Regardless. I was only curious as to see how you responded to the weight of the crown. Such a large, affluent kingdom, all the burdens it demands…” “He is the rightful King, Ziones. And he is doing a fine job.” Aires cut in, unusually forceful with his words. “He is his fathers son, and carries all the qualities others less suitable in this bloodline lack.” I thought he was talking about me for a split second, but realized it was a personal insult to Ziones. “Oh, Sir Aires.” Ziones held up his hand, “Why such animosity. I only came here to inquire on… affairs of state.” “No more games. You know as well as I, as well as everyone at this table, that you are only interested in one thing. Do not insult us with your façade. You came to vie for the throne.” Mason glared with such a coldness that could shatter glass. “I swear on the blood of my countrymen I’d rather die than see such a—“ “Gentlemen! Please!” Tiestos interjected nervously. “Must we speak of such treachery? I’m sure Ziones intentions are of genuine concern.” Ziones scoffed and reseated himself. “Uncle,” Dresden said, leaning back in his chair a slight, “I fulfill my duty as I am destined to by God through the right of my blood. I have no intentions to step down and I look forward to taking care of my country. I’m pleased that you came tonight.” The servers brought out the main meal. This was not as exciting as I thought it would be, however the air hung thick with tension. Things were about to get worse. “Nephew. I’d like to make a proposal.” Ziones grinned. “Allow me to take the hand of your Queen Mother.” Everyone had looks of dismay and shock on their faces. There were murmurs. “Absolutely not,” my mother slurred angrily, “I never fancied you, Ziones. Not at all. This is completely inappropriate and in despicable taste!” “Oh, that’s right… because you are from the Red Leaf Forest. Famous for their Witch Covens. The Princess of such an ungodly union. You are worthless, you could never bear children.” He tone was cutting now. Mason stood up, seething. His heavy gauntlets thudded on the table, shaking the silverware. “Hold your tongue, have you no respect!” Ziones pointed to the Head Knight. “And you, a lying traitor to your country. You knew the twins were born of a lowly concubine, and never said anything! You were instrumental in the cover up! You misled—“ “Lies from a dog.” Everyone grew uneasy. I felt an icy grip in my veins. “The Queen could never bear children. So you helped replace them with this result of an impure mating. Tainted blood! I am the rightful King! You cannot deny that!” I looked to Dresden who bore a puzzled, ‘What the fuck’ expression. Then I saw my mother, who looked extremely distraught and was fanning herself. “Nonsense, brother!” my mother gasped. “You do not know of what you speak! Please, I beg you—“ Everyone began to shout at once. Magistrate Tietos screamed for order, dukes leapt to their feet, demanding the truth, ladies gasped and hissed to each other, Mason and his knights looked as if they were readying their swords as well as Ziones and his men. “Is this true, Sir Aires?!” “Of course not, he is a slanderous dog.” “Stand down!” “Ladies, please! Gentlemen, hold your blades!” “You traitorous rat! You deserve death by your countrymen. Death!” The disorder proceeded into mayhem and the knights drew their swords. I was knocked over somehow and struggled pathetically in my stupid, oversized dress. I heard men shouting, glass shattering, chairs knocked over, heavy boot steps, swords clashing and women screaming. “Die!” “Attack!” “Ambush! They are in the kitchens!” An arrow thudded by my hand. I looked up in the confusion to see men in black and green, many more than were at the table. How had they gotten in? Firm hands pulled me by my right arm to my feet and back behind a pillar. I struggled then saw it was Wesker. He pushed me down the hallway. “Princess, run!” He turned back and was immediately engaged by a stranger. “Div!” Astrid had found her way to me. “We have to get out of here!” “My brother, he’s—“ “Ren has him, come on! Take your shoes off!” She pulled me down the hallway and we started running barefoot. We flew raced to the stairwell that led to the upper floors and my chamber, but enemy archers were coming down. Something clicked in my brain automatically. “Basement.” I grabbed her arm and we managed to half sprint, half jump down three flights of winding stairs. The underground part of the castle, very dusty and dark, stunk of rotted bones and old, stale air. The sounds of battle rang loudly from the great hall, echoing down to our position. “We need to leave the castle.” Astrid said urgently, but calmly as she saw me staring wide eyed towards the staircase. “You aren’t safe here. Seriously, Div. Div. DIVINE!” She screamed my name but I couldn’t hear her. She slapped me and I finally turned to her, holding my face, tears in my eyes. She looked sad. “Mason told me before I left my room tonight that if anything were to happen, take you to Deysira. He’d send word for us there. Trust me on this one, Divine. This is defiantly a situation that warrants that.” I was concerned for the welfare of my family, my friends, and my countrymen. And in those few seconds I stood there, not wanting to go, not believing this was happening… a thousand emotions ran through my head. She was right, as usual. I took a deep breath and cleared my thoughts. “Alright.” I turned towards the mazelike basement floor. “Follow me.” We ran as fast as we could, tearing off most of our overly decored dresses until we ran in corsets, slips and stockings. I ran around corners and through hidden passageways that came to me second nature; an intricate spider-web route that I could have run blindfolded and drunk. It was as if my youth was coming back to whisper memories… those silly games we used to play, hide and seek in the dungeon floor, where you’d sit in a frantic, sweaty innocent fear until the moment of discovery… and the chase was on. It would blossom into carefree glee, when your best friend chased you screaming a high pitched battle cry with a wooden stick. You ran as fast as your short legs would carry you and I saw it all again now, except this time, we were running for our lives, together, from real death. And I remembered how the old rock would rouse me early in the morning or late at night to run this same path… as if he already knew my fate… while he notched arrows aiming above and beyond me... what did he really know? What was he hiding? The last stretch of sewer pipe, leading half a mile away from the castle was halfway gone. Astrid was right beside me, and the pale, luminous outline of the night grew larger and larger until it exploded before our eyes. We were outside, in the woods, where the pipe dispensed into a stream. The echoes of childhood laughter were gone, replaced by eerie silence and chirping insects. I wasn’t even out of breath. I looked behind me at the large pipe that led back to my home. Astrid whistled, a low woodwind sort of noise. She walked slowly, her feet hardly splashing in the water. “What are you doing?” I asked. She waited a second then whistled again. She grabbed my hand, “Come on!” I followed her as she ran upon the bank, and into a clearing a couple of yards away from the stream. Amazingly enough, there was a horse grazing, with saddlebags, tied to a tree. It had been placed here. For us. Ahead of time. Inside the bags were some clothes. We ripped off our corsets and changed into simple tunics and boots. She took the reins and I slouched on behind her. She took off through the woods, with an expertise only a classically trained ranger would posess. A thousand thoughts kept running through my head. The same questions. Could it be true, that I was nothing but a false princess born of a lowly servant? That I was not royal, or even noble blooded, save for my father’s half? Did it matter in the eyes of the country—could the laws be changed? What about my brother, was he safe… Or as much as he tormented me, the welfare of Sir Mason Aires ground me into nothingness. He was indestructible in my eyes. His death would throw my whole universe into an uncomprehensible pile of confusion. Where did all the soldiers come from. Ziones men, out from nowhere, how could our scouts not detect their passing? It seemed to make sense, I thought forlornly. Why else would I bear no resemblance to my mother in the least bit, for her scarlet hued hair, fair skin, of which we thought was just a recessive trait. They said the stronger genes always resided in men. That was why we looked more like my father. And I believed it all. Until now. It hurt my head to think about this, and my heart hurt even more. My thoughts strayed off to Indigo, if he would hear about the coup, if the Magicians Order would intervene at all. They seldom interfered in politics, or commissioned mages for battle lightly. They maintained that the Institute was for learning, not for war. My thoughts became more abstract, as the beating of the horses hooves formed a rhythm that faded into a constant background. I am standing alone in a vibrant glowing field, the flowers wilt before my step. The skies are dark black in stark contrast to a bleached white field. This dream feels all too real. There stands a pedestal before me; ancient slate with unreadable etchings carved deeply into it. But on top, sitting comfortable, lay a great white lion, with silvery albino hair, and dark stars of black, ancient eyes…
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