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 Posted: Tue Jul 12, 2005 8:20 am
Walking lessons on home turf.
Reveling in the sunshine provided by a summer's evening, Riife took Breena on what had become a routine exercise- an attempt to teach her to walk, whilst Naita slept, or indulged some godawful craving Riife could only hope her pregnancy was to blame for.
Having mastered the basics of balancing on two legs rather quickly, in only remained for a rather wobbly to make that most difficult of leaps- from stationary balance to movement without incedent. Many a mishap had been borne, but in her desperation to master this task, it was only in frustration that the infant cried out. She had intentions for this ability, why did it elude her so? Oh that her body could but meet her mind.
Feeling for the girl, torn from her home, the butler had, on this day, procured a spot of the Manor's adjoining park that Elsa would not spy, and had thus returned Breena to her rightful seat. It seemed to be having an effect, for whether in anger at having been banished from a home which was more hers by right than Elsa's, or, as Riife foolishly believed, the benefit of a place with happy memories, the tiny child was advancing in leaps and bounds.
A single step was mastered at last, after a time, multiple steps, wobbly though they were, came to pass, and finally, with only two dances in gravity's tune, Breena conquered a distance of about a metre.
So triumphant were her feelings that she submitted to the pettings and coddlings of the usually tolerable butler, and even, with nary a glare, was gracious about such.
The pride of Riife on this matter was real. He had grown attached to the babe, and awaited her return to the household anxiously. He knew of her dangerous capabilities, understood on some level that she was not as she appeared, but he loved the girl despite this. She, even more than Eydis or Ceiba, had won his affection, and in that she was assured his every assistance and assurance. Riife was not a man to befriend by halves.
Sweeping Breena into his arms, the man beamed down at her, brushing a lock of inky hair from her tiny porcelain face.
"Well Breenie-girl, you're a fast learner, it has to be admitted! Don't you go getting into any trouble now."
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Posted: Thu Jul 21, 2005 6:46 pm
Home again, home again...
Dawn of the following day was cresting over the head of the red bricked manor as the clatter of hooves was heard on the drive. The kitchen staff, having grown to respect later hours than those of their mistress in her absence, were thrown into a confusion, and as such the cacophany of pots and pans being tossed about, ladels scraped, and cutlery arranged, joined the horses' steady trot.
With the sun behind it, casting a luminous halo over it's majestic lines, the Manor was truly a sight for sore eyes, and very sore were those of Lady Siri.
Swollen and red from salty tears and lack of sleep, those grey orbs looked upon their home, and more than one tear escaped them, shocking their owner, who had thought herself sobbed dry.
Eydis was soundly asleep for this triumphant return, and only her faithful daemon, half intoxicated with slumber himself, served of the younger party to show any relief at being home. This he did by letting out a chirrup, contented and, Naita could swear, relieved.
Bundling this pair into her arms, my lady exited the coach as soon as it drew to a halt, ignoring the helpful assurances of the footman, simply making a beeline for the door.
"Home!" she exclaimed breathily, speeding towards the oaken entrance as if fleeing an horrific sight.
The doors opened just in time to admit the mistress of the house, and an alarmed, though, as always, poised, Riife stood in the hall to greet her, his soft eyes betraying his surprise at her return.
"All is well, my lady?" he queried, taking her gloves, and young charge.
Eydis ruffled slightly, finally awakening to a change in her surroundings. Pale eyes turned to Riife's face, studied it for a moment, and softened into a look of unquestioning acceptance.
"Butty." she stated assuredly, snuggled into his grasp, gave Frozen a quick pat on the head, and resumed her slumber.
"No... yes... oh, it is of no matter, Riife," came the garbled response of Lady Siri, as she paced for a moment before selecting a chair in which to station herself.
After a moment she smiled, face composing itself somewhat.
"Where are my other wards? I wish to see them."
To this, the butler started, stammered for a moment, and finally hung his head.
"Well... Ceiba is above stairs, with Elsa, but Breena is... away from home. Elsa insisted she would not stay with Breena in the house, after the... incident."
This was met with a mixture of a startled and inquistive glance, and thus Riife set about telling his mistress of what had passed in her time away.
Cross-posted.
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Posted: Thu Jul 21, 2005 6:51 pm
A new nursery.
Bustling about the Manor, Lady Siri sighed, hand poised above two swatches of material. One was a fine grey silk, the other black linen. She was attempting to choose the material to make curtains for a room to be outfitted as a second nursery.
The previous night, she had been informed of all that had gone awry in her short absence, been acquainted with Elsa's grievances, dealt with a fit of sobbing Eydis had indulged in when told Breena would return to their nursery soon, and been privy to the cook's long-winded suspicions about the kitchen maids.
The solution, now so simple, had not occured to her until roughly four hours into an entirely sleepless night. For the aforementioned hours she had tossed and turned over the multitude of problems to overcome, while the hours to pass after a solution occured were wiled away with tears over what she had seen and dealt with before such troubles were launched.
This simple idea was as such; make a seperate nursery for Breena, thus the unwilling siblings would be seperated, and locate Breena's abode away from Elsa's small room. As far away as possible.
In this task she had a very willing helper in Riife, always keen to put forward some mention of Breena's favouring one thing over another. It was refreshing for my lady to see that at least one member of her household shared that unexplainable soft spot for the deathly pale babe she cherished within her breast.
And so since break of dawn had Lady Siri toiled over arrangements, desperately trying to get the basics of the room set down, which room was chosen, the furniture, placement of said furniture, proper toys, fabrics, all that there was to see to. It would take several days, this she could see, and none but Riife would allow her ward to return before all was in place.
It was a shame for those nay-sayers, then, that a certain knock came loud and resounding upon the door before light two mornings after Lady Siri's return.
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Posted: Sun Jul 24, 2005 8:57 am
Another one bites the dust.
Mouth watering following her seven hour "nap," Naita made her way to the kitchen, Breena slung over one hip, petting the adult's shoulder softly.
Had she known the infant long, Nai may have been suspicious of such an obvious show of affection, but groggy, hungry, and in sugar withdrawal, she didn't give it a second thought, and simply carried on down the stairs, huge belly bobbing before her.
"Gonna have a waffle, gonna have a waffle..." she chanted tunelessly, insatiably happy to be about to eat.
Pregnancies do odd things.
Placing the infant on a seat whilst she popped two treats into the toaster, Naita hummed whilst bustling to get bits and bobs out of the fridge, barely noticing that Breena had slipped off the chair and begun toddling about.
Her mothering instincts were neither strong enough to be surprised at the child's newfound ability to walk, nor to suspect that she was up to mischief, as many parents can like second nature. Instead, she muttered, "no marshmallows."
Once the smell of breaded products filled the room, and the munchies had been fully toasted, the woman returned to the now empty table, popping the waffles on the hard wood and waddling to the fridge to find a bottle of BBQ sauce, lovingly hidden in the farthest reaches.
"Yumyumyum," she chanted once more, shuffling back, giant tummy poking forth from beneath her shirt.
Alas, when she reached the table once more, her food was gone. Standing in it's place was a squirrel that had met a rather zealous taxidermist.
Left eye twitching ever so slightly, Naita eyed the woodland creature, horrified.
"Wherearemywaffles? Whathappened? Mywafffffles!" she babbled, a note of panic in her voice. Why would the food gods forsake her? Had she not appeased them?
Huffily, she searched under the squirrel, beneath the table, in every crevice of the room, leaving behind her a trail of destruction.
Divvy wouldn't notice, she decided, and returned to her room dejected, deciding to raid her junk food stores instead.
On the way out, she scooped up the deathly pale infant, black eyes glistening in an altogether unsettling manner. Still, too upset to notice, Naita simply stalked up the stairs, muttering.
***
Three days hence, Naita again was on the hunt for food, this time a bag of corn chips that she distinctly remembered hiding beneath a pile of 1940's porn magazines. She was searching in the right box, she was sure, but all she found was a stuffed squirrel. Odd.
Admitting defeat, she headed for the mattress, beneath which should have been a bag of sherbert large enough to put those who traffic 'other' white powders to shame.
Again, though she found the spot which forced a lump in her mattress, the only thing to be found was a dead, shoddily stuffed, large-tailed woodland creature.
This was starting to look awfully like a pattern.
***
Suspicions now running wild, Naita skulked about DS' house, eyeing the shadows, jumping at every sound.
No one messed with her food, no one!
This afternoon, she had decided to see who was messing about with the food in her room. Lying in bed with her eyes half-closed, she feigned sleep, adding even her many and deafening snores.
As the door creaked open, her grip tightened about the pillow, an evil smirk crawling over her toothy mouth.
Alas, her visitor was only Riife, who stopped off long enough to return Breena to her bed, then slip out. Disappointment spread like a bad rash over the woman, her tormentor so close, yet so far.
Her upset did not have long to fester, however, as she saw the tiny child free herself. What the hell?
Breena, slipping from her imprisoning place and padding on wobbly feet through the room, made her way straight for the hiding place of Nai's favourite bottle of BBQ sauce. On the way, she picked up a stuffed squirrel from behind a box, adjusting her less than perfect balance. At this, Naita leapt straight out of bed, bellowing with rage.
"YOU!" she screamed, seizing the girl in her arms.
"Back. To. The. Manor." she seethed through gritted teeth.
Never again would she do Riife a favour!
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Posted: Fri Jul 29, 2005 11:33 am
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Posted: Sat Aug 20, 2005 6:17 pm
Back to the Manor. Morning springing slowly over the sleepy sky, the first timid tendrils of grey light crept idly over the dew-kissed earth, catching, with some surprise, the figure of a woman waddling behind a heavily pregnant belly, young babe gripped in her arms.
The face of this woman, as grey light revealed it, was quivering in anger, eyes twitching occasionally onto the child in her arms.
Teeth gritted more in anger than the morning chill, Naita kept a studied silence as she struggled with those of Breena's possessions in her care, and the demon child herself. She didn't care if my Lady had returned. She didn't care if Riife had the house full of rabid sheep. That kid was not staying with her one. second. longer.
The fact she had not eaten for a good hour or so was not helping the bad mood the kid had put her in, and it was likely Goliath himself would have quivered in his boots at the sight of an enraged, pregnant, Naita.
Breena, however, did not.
Instead, the child looked postively cheerful. Her black eyes sparkled, a smirk snaked over her rosebud mouth, she was right pleased with herself.
At last, that familiar red bricked building rose upon the view of our heroine, and with a burst of speed unbelievable in one so laden, the woman hastened up the drive.
It was a matter of a very few minutes before she was slamming her fist on the great oak doors, hollering for Riife to come out and face the music.
At length, the butler, rather bleary-eyed, answered the door, brow quirked in query at his old friend.
She, eyes narrowed, thrust the babe into his arms, exclaimed "your problem now," turned tail, and headed for home.
She was not a fan of children.
Cross-posted.
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Posted: Sun Aug 28, 2005 5:25 pm
Quest Time! Breena is meant to be a bringer of change, but what happens when the change is within herself? Back at home, in surroundings she is far more familiar with, her mind and body are growing and with that growth comes the emergence of powers. As the days pass, Breena's powers should begin to manifest themselves. In cases of extreme emotion and sometimes just at random. This is a point of change in Breena's life, where she potentially tries to control the powers herself and unleash them upon unsuspecting victims as part of personal training. Those that have gained her ire and those that merely vex her and even those that are unfortunate to cross her path. As time passes and her actions continue, eventually an event shall come to pass where the future of her powers, her training, is taken out of her own hands.
The young Legend must learn some measure of control over her power, on her own, but must learn to accept that some choices in her life are not made by herself. Good luck, young Legend, and may you handle this with grace.
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Posted: Sun Sep 18, 2005 12:46 am
Quest- Ceiba's books.
A few days spent in the shared nursery had been enough to test the patience of all in the Manor, for when the deathly pale little girl was toddled into her new room, Lady Siri could swear she heard even the building sigh with relief.
Located at the other end of the floor from the previous nursery, Breena's new room had been draped in purple and grey silks, a sturdy cot, for news from Naita had been enough to ensure that, and a fine looking writing desk Riife had felt fitting for her, when older.
She had spent several nights sleeping there now, and many considered it a success. Breena, meanwhile, was infinitely displeased with being seperated from such a prime target.
As the time passed, the anger bubbled within the toddler, plots rising and falling from possibility. How dare they spoil her fun? One or another would pay, she would make sure of it.
~~~
A week after her return, Breena, Ceiba and Riife sat in the library, Ceiba curled in an armchair, absorbed in one of her many favourites, whilst Riife was entertaining Breena with magic tricks, oblivious to the many glances the tiny girl stole at her elder 'sibling.'
Lady Siri had retired to her bed after news came that her mother had died. Riife suspected it was less out of grief than weariness that his mistress retired, but questioned it not, and Elsa had fled the house with Eydis for the day.
Mid-trick, a loud knock sounded on the door, and, sighing, Riife stood to answer it.
He was half out of the room before he returned to where Breena sat on the floor, stooped to drop a kiss on her forehead and whisper, "no trouble please, Miss Breenie!"
Oh, if only he knew the thoughts in the infant's mind!
As soon as a furtive glance assured her that the man was gone for a while, the tiny girl struggled to her feet and made straight for the pile of books at Ceiba's feet.
The poor girl was so engrossed in her book she did not even notice the head of inky hair bobbing before her, and so the first few actions of the babe went unnoticed.
It was a hard job for one so small, but one by one Breena managed to grab the first five of the little pile, laying each on the ground and flicking it open.
She knew not what their purpose was, what the numerous shapes on the pages, all she knew was that they brought Ceiba pleasure.
All she knew was that they could not be allowed.
Scrunch, rip, scrunch.
Five minutes passed, and finally a sound raised Ceiba from her trance. What was it...?
Scrunch, rip, scrunch.
It sounded so familiar to her, and yet... she doubted she had heard it. Raising her eyes from the verse before them, her gaze met with the pale infant, and with a sickening lurch from her stomach, she knew what the sound was.
A girl's scream pierced the calm of the Manor, filtering even to the front door where Riife was exchanging gleeful greetings with two people.
Eyes widening in horror, he dropped the scant luggage of the pair and made a mad dash for the library. What had gone wrong? It had been so short a time, what could have happened?
As he reached the doorway, a horrifying sight met his eyes.
There, in the centre of the room, was a grinning Breena, surrounded by a mountain of ripped paper, the pages aged, worn, irreplaceable. Beside her, gripping a ruined volume and sobbing profusely was the defeated Ceiba.
The infant had succeeded. Several sources of infinite pleasure to the girl were gone forever.
Stepping around the mountain, Riife was just reaching for the dishevelled cover cradled in Ceiba's arms when a voice sounded at the door to the library.
A familiar figure there stood, belly protruding in a way that announced another arrival would soon enter the Manor.
Voice dropping mid-sentence as she caught the carnage, Linaia announced;
"Aelus and I are married."
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Posted: Fri Sep 30, 2005 2:06 am
Quest- Dreams of the Council
Dark lashes fluttered, the black pools beneath them unseeing on this balmy night.
A cool breeze wafted through the open window, toying with the swathes of black silk littered about the newly completed nursery, before finding it's way to the crib. Here it lifted a few strands of the ebony mass encircling the babe, before dying away, leaving the room in silence.
Outside, the sky twinkled, none but the stars to tell tales on this night of a new moon. Within the infant's mind, something awoke.
A familiar sensation washed over the tiny girl's consciousness, that absolute lack of concern, that freedom from any and all worry. That immortality born of the very seeds of mortality.
Darkness enveloped her, she seemed presenceless, a mere seed of consciousness in a vast, uncharted realm of emptiness. And then, unwarned, a multitude of voices sprang to life, their melody rich, inviting, yet cold as the cheek of the child as she slumbered.
Together, they called out to Breena, as they had before, their words almost carving through the silence.
"You return to us, child?" their voices sang, "no choices have we to offer you now, your course is set."
"Then why am I here?" Breena felt herself query, words again drawn from her without conscious thought, unimpeded by the limits of her young body.
"You seek answers, directions," came a single voice from the mass. So familiar was it, that which had given her her last choice before she returned to the living world what seemed so long ago.
That she sought answers was unknown to her, for what had she to wonder? She had every enjoyment on offer in her little world, so many fools to toy with, such easy playthings.
"Changes come, child, of your own making," it sang once more.
Before Breena had a chance to mull this information, the chorus once more struck up in full force, rich voices thrilling through the peace.
"A child of change brings not only to the world, but to herself her fruits. Your gifts must be nurtured, learned, whilst that which you have no control over toys with you as you with the fabric of peace amongst your fellows."
With this muddling pronunciation, all fell away, the chorus, the darkness, as the waking world swam dizzyingly about the babe's eyes.
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Posted: Tue Nov 22, 2005 8:39 pm
a flutter of wings and a turn of the wind leave something under your doorstep:
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Posted: Mon Nov 28, 2005 6:06 pm
Quest: Changes in the Manor.
As the early afternoon wore on, a chill wind rippled through the air, a tiding of winter's coming wrath. It came from the west, billowing the curtains and disturbing a babe from her light slumber.
Breena's lids fluttered momentarily, before the light of day came streaming in, a knocking at the door toying momentarily on her sleep-drenched mind. A soft blanket of ebony curls fell over one side of her face as she pushed herself up in the crib, keen gaze sweeping about the room.
In an armchair by the open window Lady Naita Siri sat, completing a piece of embroidery for yet another nursery in the process of completion.
That nursery, unlike the one currently housing her youngest ward, Breena, would not be coated with black silks, a chest full of items to delight the youngster locked for safety. The dagger to most delight the babe worried Lady Siri no end.
But for now, her mind was clear of such worry, the plans of purple bedding and cheerful embroidery on walls interrupted by curiosity as to who could be calling.
Standing, the woman stopped to kiss the pale youngster before continuing out the door, ceasing on the landing, gasp caught in her throat.
There, stood in the doorway, imparting some greeting upon Riife, was a familiar figure. Golden hair shining in a sudden, inopportune (in her eyes) burst of sunlight, strong figure accented by the garb of a court guard, was Eshal. Eshal, a man to have known her since childhood, to have made far too bold, and a man who yet drove her to distraction for no apparent reason.
Applying as haughty an expression as possible when so shocked, Lady Siri nodded her sister back into her room. The expectant mother had stolen out to greet their guest, but the sight of a court official struck any joy from her face. Why should any from there be in such a place as the Manor? Could her father have learned of her union? What consequences would there be?
Linaia safely tucked away, Lady Siri continued down the stairs, meeting Eshal with as unfriendly an eye as she could muster.
"Sir," she greeted him coldly, though this manner had no effect on his obvious look of admiration.
"My Lady," he replied, "I bring terrible news from court."
Though his eyes never left her, his features faltered, a frown burgeoning on his brow.
"You may wish to be seated."
Grey eyes narrowing for a moment, Naita obeyed, depositing herself on a red velveteen sofa and meeting his blue gaze.
What possible news worse than that she had known could come? She had lost her mother and baby brother but days before her brother's execution. There was little sadness left for her family.
"Your father discovered your sister's return."
So fate still had tricks up her sleeve after all. Lady Siri shuddered at the thought of his wrath.
"He disowned Linaia once he heard of it, feeling it an insult to his late wife and sons. In truth, he had been ill for a time when he heard the news."
Though this fate for her sister was horrifying, the woman was sure there was more, from his manner.
"He died last night, before sending this letter to your sister;"
here he delivered her an envelope, the Siri seal pressed into the burgundy wax. Much the colour, she mused numbly, of blood. Fitting, of late.
"His fortune falls on you, m'lady," Eshal continued on, though Naita had long since ceased hearing.
"However, the duchy, unless an heir is produced within the next half year, will become void. I hold myself at your disposal for the legal proceedings."
At this, she merely blinked, a single tear glistening on her lashes.
"And I wish you my heartfelt sorrow," he said last, before dropping a kiss on her hand and instructing Riife to bring her some wine.
With that, he bowed and was gone.
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Posted: Sat Dec 10, 2005 9:44 pm
Quest/PD: Frustrations.
Lady Naita sat, a mass of black silk, lace, and sombre pearl accompaniments. Her mind was ablaze, unsure West was West, and East was East anymore. A man she supposed she must have loved lay in the ground, and she could muster no mourning, no care save for that her wardrobe remain respectful. The fortune his death meant had no impact either, she was simply... numb.
Before her a toddler played, hair a pool of ebony, dress on this day matching. She did not wear her usual play-act of a grin. Instead, a scowl wound her pallid features. She was heartily sick of baby talk being spoken to her, and that her tongue could not yet form the replies she craved to make.
Ballentine decided a day away from the chaos of her family would do Waya a little good, and so she took the boy for a drive. Where did they end up? Well at the Legend HQ. The boy looked a bit unsure if he really wanted to be there or not, but soon enough he walked through the doors and glanced around. He saw the woman who looked depressed and frowned a bit. He was curious why, but would never ask due to respect.
Casting a glance down at his side, looking as if he was staring off into space he gave a small nod then a response to thin air. "We'll just stay awhile." Flashing a soft smile Waya continued in.
Before he had a chance to say anything, he watched as his companion trotted off to the small child. It bent to sniff curiously at the girl.
Waya just stood in shock and frowned, taking a few steps towards them. "Get back here.." he hissed just above a whisper as he didn't want to alarm the child or it's mother.
Black eyes raising at some small noise, Breenie's attention was caught not by that which gave it to her, but by the boy. A victim... delicious. With some effort, she wiped the mutinous expression from her features, and replaced it with one, though not with it's usual false angelic sweetness, at least masked her mind's working well enough.
On the seat, however, Lady Siri noticed not a thing. She continued to fidget with her skirts, pulling each in turn with a nervous rustle, chewing on her lower lip.
"Neshoba..." The hiss of the name caused the wolf to press it's ears to it's head and retreat from the child. It circled around the small body before returning to Waya's side.
The boy sighed as he ran a hand through his hair, shifting the fur cloak on his arms. It was rather warm in the building and he didnt need it as much as he thought he would. A simple clasp was released and the coak brought into his arms to rest over one.
Golden eyes now looked from the wolf to the child that lay on the floor. Well... it was smiling, and so he forced one onto his own lips.
A sleight of the hand, a piece of concentration and a finally mastered trick was achieved, a small, grey crystal seemingly appearing in the infant's hand. If there was a stash up one sleeve, the babe certainly did her best to conceal it. This she held in the direction of the boy, moving the gem slightly to catch fleeting rays of light on it's facets.
She spoke not a word yet, lest the attempt sound as horrid as many. She was not pleased, for words did not slip off her tongue as they seemed to do for adults.
Waya's attention sucessfully shifted from the girl to the orb held in her hand. He frowned a bit, pressing his ears to his head. Was she offering it to him?
He stepped a bit closer, crouching down in front of the girl and smiling weakly. "It's pretty..." He said as he reached out to touch it. He was curious about it. Though a low growling was in his ear as the Neshoba wasn't too sure about the situation.
Those black eyes twinkled, though the appearance was of happiness, the reason was not. Breena was no playground miss, no little girl whose only concerns lay in the beauty of pleasure. No, in the pure selfishness of pleasure did she bathe. However, for the moment, she was happy to allow this attention, for what good was an opportunity missed. Relinquishing the object, a gentle smile fluttered at her mouth, the palid lips twitching upwards. "Yours," she stated simply, for there, at least, was a word that rang with no disgusting babyish tinge.
His hand retreated at the word, his head shaking. "No.. I cannot." He wasn't the type to take anything from a child! They'd burst into tears next and then the mother would beat on him for stealing the toy. Or at least that's how it always happened on the TV.
"You play with it..." He said with a small nod.
Even such an actress as Breena could not keep up a front at all times. With eyes slightly narrowed, she pushed the item forward, attempting to thrust it into the boy's hand. "Yours," she uttered again, a little more forcefully. How the hell were her little attempts to ingratiate herself with these children meant to work when they refused?
He gasped as the item was once more offered to him, shifting his gaze to the mother. Well, she wasn't paying attention really and Waya reached out once more. He took the orb and brought it closer to his eyes to glance inside it cautiously.
A satisfied smile replaced the growing look of mutiny on the girl's face, and with a very low giggle she went back to attempting to make another 'appear.' Such could be a useful trick, especially among those whose idiocy blinded them to all but a simple trick.
However, introductions loomed. Fixing the other in her black gaze, she began the attempt. "I am Breena," she managed, though not without some struggle. And once more irritation glittered in her eyes. A simple speech should not have nearly foiled her.
Waya's ears perked a bit as the girl spoke, taking his eyes from the orb to her once more. "Breena?" He repeated to make sure he had heard right. For a child the girl did speak well he thought to himself.
"I'm waya.." He said with a small smile. "You sure you want to give this to me?" It was a big question yes, but he wasn't one to do baby talk. "Won't your Mom get mad?"
Her mother? Unlikely her mother should care. Something of a chilly giggle escaped the girl. She presumed he referred to the puff of material on the couch, and merely quirked her brows. "Not mum," she said simply. It was Riife who had given her the crystals in any case, and they were hers to dispose of as she wished.
Thoughts of her mother occurred rarely, and ignoring the watery face to swim in her mind, she opened her mouth to speak again. "B..butler gave th...em." The curse of infancy struck again, and the pale child gritted her milk-teeth tightly.
He listened, understanding the words even though they were poorly spoken. "Butler? Wow..." Not even Ballentine had a butler for the large house they inhabited.
He looked back at the crystal, the item making him think of a movie. Labyrinth. He was curious how in the movie the orb was slid from hand to hand, and of course he knew he wouldn't be able to perform such a trick without hours of practice.
Sighing a bit he smiled once more at Breena. "Did you want to play or something?" He asked. Well he wouldn't really enjoy it but he could entertain the child for awhile.
Play? Indeed, though it was doubtful he would enjoy her preferred games. However, at this she nodded, turning her gaze upon him in query. "Play what?" What could the slightly bedraggled looking boy offer for her amusement?
He frowned a bit, shifting to sit indian style and place his cloak and now the orb into his lap. Play what? He scratched at his head in thought. That was a good question... he didn't know what to play! Specially with an infant.
"You tell me?" He offered with a small smile.
Oh joy, creativity! In truth, Breena had never been the sort of babe to wish silly toys or games upon others, or least of all herself. She cared for the magic tricks shown her, the trickery and deception involved in sleight of hand. And so with a grin lightly on the devilish side, she uttered a single word. "Magic?"
"Magic.." Well he wasn't good enough to perform for anyone yet. It was true he was learning but he had only gotten a few books on it recently. "I can't .. I'm still learning." Waya tried to explain.
"Tricks," she tried again. Surely he must know some small piece of trickery, it could not be too hard, she had learnt one, in his time he would have had ample opportunity. Boredom began toying with her gaze. If he could not amuse her, she would make her own amusement. She had for a time been cultivating a pressure within herself, a wish to truly be relieved of the frustration and boredom.
Waya pressed his ears to his head. Yes... He had taught himself a few slight of hands tricks. When he was sick in bed he taught himself how to juggle. Though you can't juggle with just one thing.
Sighing he lifted the orb once more, a dagger from his it's place on his thigh and a small leather pouch for coins in his pocket. "Well... here goes." He stated a bit uneasy as he started to juggle the three items and most careful to not drop the orb or slice himself with the dagger of course.
A dagger. A dagger, of all the items most precious to Breena was a blade, and the horrid people did not let her play with her own. Her gaze became focused on the metal, all sense of play-acting gone in the sheer need to have that item. From within her sleeve, one of her hidden crystals dropped, it's edges tiny, but jagged. And still her eyes strained on the precious dagger.
Well juggling wasn't doing anything worth while and he stopped, placing each item into his lap as he looked at the girl. "I think I should go." he stated while putting the orb down for her once more. "Yours...." Next he put the dagger back into it's holder and the pouch into a pocket on a belt he wore.
Her eyes narrowed to mere slits as this untold pleasure was denied to her. She should have a dagger, dammit. She should. With something resembling a growl she sprang forward, grabbing at the sheath, her own little weapon, that jagged rock, jabbing in her tiny fist. She would have it, she would have that blade! On the seat, Lady Siri was finally roused from her thoughts, and stared, open-mouthed at her ward. "Breena!" she screeched, horrified.
Waya was quick to react, grabbing the girl's wrists before she'd hit him. Though when the mother screeched he released his hold and put his hands up innocently. "I didn't do anything to her.."
Frustrated beyond her means, and with her guardian bearing down on her, Breena set about wailing as if the world were about to end. As Naita bore her away, apologising profusely, the tiny girl released some tiny part of her anger by jamming the stone a few times into Lady Siri's shoulder, a small, placid smile growing on her lips as the woman reacted to the pain.
"Hey!" he rose to his feet quickly, grabing the little girl's wrist once more and trying to take the orb from her hand. "That's dangrous..."
The interruption meant little, Breena had reached her satisfaction and relinquished the crystal easily, her sobs at an end. As Naita bore her out of the building, that black gaze regained it's twinkle, those pale lips curved upwards, and she waved goodbye to the boy.
Waya just watched as the child was carried away, a frown on his face as he waved to her. Well... he had two new toys of his own it seemed! He glanced down at the crystal in his hand and the other left discarded on the floor, he'd have to return them the next time he saw the child.
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Posted: Thu Dec 29, 2005 2:29 pm
Quest: Wiralu's Return.
On a forest trail moved the shuffle of aged feet, a cane supporting a lightly hunched back, long white whisps of hair brushing against the wooden implement now and again.
The old woman was making a journey, and though a familiar one it seemed odd for her to leave her village. The moon's own children, she called her people, and only the necessity of the trip drove her forward.
In truth, her stature, her reliance on the cane, her movement belied her true strength and speed. But such were the necessities of life, and were she to encounter anything along the way, the visage of an old crone promised more fun than the sight of a woman easily able to handle herself.
Onwards she moved, stopping here and there to swipe at the undergrowth with her cane. The weeds were positively out of control. She would send some of the young men to deal with them another day, when she was back in her home.
A smile toyed on her lips as one element of her destination wafted into her mind. Little Ceiba.
She had not seen her granddaughter in what seemed like ages. Though she trusted her guardian to care for her, still the wish to hold that little girl in her arms seemed never to fade.
Would her hair have grown? Had she read much? Did she enjoy new games that had been taught her? And most importantly, did that which called the old woman forth trouble her?
That familiar gap in the forest loomed large, her journey was nearly complete. Next would come a wooden building, site of the transfers. Beyond that, the lands of the home she sought.
Pacing this route with her steady shuffle, those keen eyes pricked at the various pieces of scenery. Behind her, the forest and the mountains her people spoke of, ahead the trimmed and neat grasses, hedges and gardens of a woman known to her for a period which had promised much hope.
The road began as well, cobbled, and leading into the drive for that well-maintained property. Meandering along the side of this, the woman allowed her eyes to drift to the well-worn paths of carriage wheels. Like herself and her people, the Siris had maintained that which was familiar, that which was stately.
No horses wandered the way presently, but it was rather on the early side, she expected no carriages were allowed before noon, and knew of the slightly retiring tendencies of the Siri sisters.
The pack strapped across one shoulder was beginning to weary the wise old thing, so full was it. Pieces of instruction littered it, a few gifts, not to mention the supplies of water she carried everywhere. None but the freshest refreshed, she found.
Wandering through a pair of open cast iron gates, the woman ceased for a moment, eyeing the structure before her.
It remained as she remembered, all red brick and winking windows. If there was a bit of a sombre attitude cast over the place, it did not make it any less an attractive home.
And those great oak doors. They awaited her.
It was a short trip up the drive, though the urge to simply cut across the smooth grass was hard to resist. At length, however, she was stood before the entrance, and rapped with the knocker.
Wiralu had come once more to The Manor.
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Posted: Thu Dec 29, 2005 2:39 pm
Quest: Studies?
Riife opened the door to find a familiar, if slightly more lined, face grinning up at him. With a laugh, he took in her hunched position over a cane, hair left loose like a great white cape.
"Come now, ma'am, you cannot expect a respectable man to snatch away your cane, but you do tempt me!" he exclaimed, retrieving her bag faithfully.
She simply laughed, depositing the wooden implement by the door and straightening her spine once more.
"There's a brew in the bag for you, but for now, where is Naita?"
The mention of alcohol seemed to please the little man, for he grinned, before returning the satchel to Wiralu and marching off to fetch his mistress.
In the time this took, the old woman emptied out the larger contents of her bag onto a wooden side-table, lining them in order.
First came the doll for Ceiba, then a little necklace for Eydis, a ring for Linaia, a jar full of some red substance for Lady Naita, and last, a dagger for Breena. The last was most important, for it held the carvings of her village, representing the dead. The child, she was sure, would make full use of it.
Just as she was moving to pull a few papers out, a young woman entered the room, dressed regally in black satin. Much confusion had been playing in her mind of late, and to see one so steady as her old friend, Naita rushed forward, quite losing her sense of decorum whilst enveloping Wiralu.
"It has been too long," she exclaimed, before recollecting herself and taking a step backwards.
"Is all well?"
The white-haired woman's eyes once more glistened, the showing of affection over affectation pleasant to see in such a courtier.
"Ah, I could ask the same. Black, Naita? It never becomes you."
She left the comment at that, knowing better than to pry into the lives of creatures dependant on social standing. The Siris would see their fortunes rise again, but not today.
"I have brought you gifts, dear," she said at last.
One by one she pointed them out, until the dagger came into view.
"With this gift, I bring knowledge," this assertion seemed to relieve some of the worry Lady Siri felt on seeing an item of such power for one so apt to use it.
"The winds have her, Naita. She is blessed."
Blessed? As far as Lady Siri had seen, she was somewhat less than a blessing. This must have reflected in her expression, for Wiralu chuckled.
"She causes the winds to shift, the leaves to brown. She is within change, and will bring it where she moves. She will never control it, but there is that connected to it that she can.
She is powerful, my dear. And like all power, it can corrupt. I wish to teach her, try to instill some sense of hope in her heart of cold chaos."
The old woman was, to be sure, a source of ample knowledge, but the young courtier wavered. Breena was destructive enough without channeling some kind of power. However, some sense of herself as a better would probably appeal and satiate the girl a bit.
She sighed, placing one hand within Wiralu's.
"Teach her well."
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Posted: Fri Mar 24, 2006 6:40 am
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