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Rated: 13+ · Other · Fantasy · #1104897
Fantasy and Drama meet in Romanticist Europe
Prologue

Seven chimes rang throughout house Aspara, a little man called out the hour in a booming voice. A hooded figure appeared in the main hallway of House Aspara. The marble flagstones echoed her footsteps in the vast passage as she entered the central chamber. The hooded figure knew which way to go after having entered through the great heavy oak doors which the massive guards parted. As she approached the chair of the sovereign of the house she heard whispers as they floated around, other nobles, and servants alike their authors. Her light russet hair hung in her face; however, she dared not glance up or raise her head before being told to do so. Such mannerisms were highly disrespectful and clearly defiant and such was not the way of a lady before her sovereign. It was imperative that everything go smoothly at this meeting. She lowered her head further shrinking into the deep shroud of her hood, she dared not risk the anger of House Aspara before her judgment.

There was no need to look up; Orchid knew this room well. There would be a bottle of cordial sitting on a large table to her left. There would also be people everywhere. The vast room held so much beauty. The trees and rivulets formed a splendid mosaic of life. There were torches still being lit as she slowly made her way down the long blue and red carpet streaming down the center of the room straight to the leader‘s chamber, the chamber of the Amanai. Step by prolonged step she paced, and every one felt like an eternity.

Even the warmth and beauty of the room around her did not assuage the feelings of cold unrest when she sensed the weight of many eyes on her. Some knew her name; others merely stared in awe. She kept her hood down and her head low, in the fashion of respect she was taught. It was one thing to violate the minor laws of people, but never should a mortal violate the laws of the gods. Scorn and contempt and awe lingered heavy on the room as she continued on the firewater carpeting to the room at the back.

The window on the right which gave way to sunrise every morning was accompanied by a little alcove for sitting and merriment. The pillars were specifically made to hold wine bottles, with slanted holes and a naturally cool core they kept the bottles chilled. Large pillows and cushions aplenty lay arranged in the alcove to her right in the vast room. A row of tall, narrower windows that followed were also made of stained glass. And everywhere there were paintings of previous leaders of the house. The room was alight in Arcan fashion and poise, it had been so long, yet it seemed only yesterday she had been a child here.

A glorious stained glass mural depicted the emblem of the noble house Aspara; A water bearer. The symbol was wrought of the finest blues with hair like waves and a gown that flowed like the wind eddied waves. It was the goddess Amara. She stood against a field of scarlet, littered with shimmering obsidian stars. Her jar summoned a river onto the red field and it came in rolling waves. She was the symbol of the house and a goddess of Arca, bringer of life and death.

The gardens within the room, were heavenly she remembered. The scents of so many flowers filled her nostrils. Orchid could hear the fountains and remembered that her favorites lay in a little grove outside down a ways from the main buildings. There were grand unicorn statues cast in purest white alabaster and marble, with eyes of sapphire, their horns were of the finest silver and their manes were made of the thinnest gold. These things she remembered as she made her way to the outer circle of the Amanai’s chair. These things were now a memory since her choice to be exiled.

She made her way to a second set of doors at the end of the carpet, only these were far more elaborate than mere oak. They were crafted of a thin beautiful metal in a manner that reminded her of the ancient legend of the willow tree, the first tree in all of Arca. The leaves were crafted of emerald and a green metal unknown to her, it was magnificent. Little pools of periwinkle hued glass embedded with diamonds in the archaic writings held a scripture known to all. She had read it a thousand times before, but still she read it again. ‘And for love of my children I spill my father’s blood, I give life out of death, Drink deeply of love, and regret not that which you have done’ She knew that this was time, there was no turning back now. She pushed open the glass door, with surprising ease. It was incredibly light, for so big a door.

She removed her shoes and set them on the flagstone a servant quickly took them to be cleansed of the dirt from the outside, while another cleaned the path the visitor had taken. After she had made sure her shoes were down and tended outside of the mirrored circle the woman turned to face the Amanai.

The servants tended to the ivy growing on the pillars trimming here and sprucing there as unobtrusively as possible, it was something they were taught in The Court. She heard their whispers as she made her way to the chair of the Amanai. This was not a happy homecoming. The room seemed to go on an eternity. Each step on the water covered glass walkway taking close to forever to make, or so it seemed. The walkway, she knew was thick and sturdy, but with every step she took she felt as if it might break under her feet as she proceeded through the circular room.

The water flowed from the center off to the slightly curved sides and fell to a pool below. The water flowed around her toes, and she felt uneasy but serene standing there. Slowly she made her way as respectfully as possible, until she finally was within range to take a step onto the mirrored floor surrounding the chair of the Amanai.

The circle was still as beautiful as she remembered it. The golden borders with elaborate designs, and the silver lacing that seemed to make the images flow. And then there was the cobalt in the space of the three inch border where the gold and silver did not cast intricate slender hands. The patterns inside were made of diamond and gold lace, with silver.

“My lady Amara, bearer of life,” she prayed in a whisper before entering the circle. “Please, give me the strength to follow that which you have asked. I do this for my daughter, watch her and shower her with life.”

Uncertainly at first, she placed a bare foot on the mirrored circle that surrounded the chair of the sovereign of the house and shuddered at the cold of it. It seemed to have been so long ago the last time she addressed Cecille, the Amanai. The solidity of the mirrored circle made her wince for her bare feet as she stepped carefully. Her feet had grown unaccustomed to this, she continued head down, looking at her hooded reflection.

Her eyes were slightly glowing in the secrecy of the hood, green like the meadows of Blossom Valley where all was beautiful and grew well. The green of meadows was complemented by little lines of silver and pink of roses in little spots making a ring around the green. She stared into her eyes as she kept walking slowly following the ritual that had been laid down so many ages ago.

The emerald eyed woman knelt some five feet from the chair keeping her hooded head down and waited for the Amanai to speak. When she heard nothing her silken voice, betraying no tension, surrendered to the air. “My lady Amanai, sovereign of house Aspara,” she paused briefly to swallow. Taking a short unnoticed breath she continued. “Please, forgive my child for my sins of love.”

She raised her head to look at the Amanai still hidden under her hood, hair receding into the shadows of the cowl. The cold smile she met made her shudder. It also made her weak in the knees, that smile from so long ago. Filled with joy and pain and desire she remained steadfast.

The anemones were in full bloom at house Aspara and a soft rain began to fall from the sky. The anemones opened to the shower though they were inside and a fresh scent of summer rain engulfed the air. The pitter- patter of rain filled the air and naught but that was heard.

The warmth of the room was at odds with the remoteness of the Amanai and her second in command, Felicity. With icy white smiles and ravenous eyes they gazed at the brown haired figure hiding under the hood waiting in perfect silence. They waited patient and cold for words to pass. The silence seemed eternal, and then….

“Exile...why do you return to the house of the water bearer?” The Amanai interrupted, her voice full of contempt. “Orchid, don’t think I don’t recognize you under there. You were always like a sister to me. Why do you not show your face? Let me see.” Her tone was amused, and the voice as cold as the harshest of blizzards seemed to stir the winds themselves as the drizzle came to a storm growing fierce and untamed. Thunder rolled in the distance and lightning illuminated the sky in a voracious electric waltz, like that of forbidden lovers. The marble pillars of the room glowed an aberrant hue in the harsh light.

Felicity, second of the Amanai stood there as well, her eyes the color of overcast clouds and hair like tomato fields in the sunset. Her pale green dress vividly contrasted to the ruby shade of her wavy hair and made her seem slightly inhuman. With her pale skin dimly rose-colored around the cheeks, and fierce gray eyes she echoed a cold beauty in a warm shell. Cruel and emotionless, she smiled from her standing position slightly behind the right hand of the Amanai.

The indoor roses and anemones scented the air sweetly from the hanging gardens within. Hearing sound of the fountains resonating in the room, she remembered how the sweet lotus flower grew in the little stream within the indoor garden. She remembered the lily pads that held the water lilies and the scents of them all suddenly brought so many memories rushing back to her. The memories of such sweet, forgotten beauty made her swallow, stifling tears.

Orchid pulled back her hood as she rose to stare at the Amanai full in the face. “See.” She took in the whole of the Amanai’s face. It had been many years since she had seen Cecille, the Amanai. Almost four years since the day she took her things in the night and left the house with a scripted note left in the empty room. Orchid remembered the exact words she had written, and could picture how Cecille would have reacted if it were in public. She knew that Cecille had at most shed silent tears in private.

The Amanai was still beautiful as she had been in her prime. Slight lines creased at the edges of her eyes…those eyes! They were still gloriously fierce, a blue like the shallow waters to the southern parts of the realm. Crystalline, like hard pressed sapphires and lined in a circle of lilac . Her skin was pale creamy alabaster with veins showing in meticulous indigo streams. Her hair was still fair, the color of freshly harvested wheat. Strands of iron gray were slightly visible in the aging sovereign, but she was still so very beautiful.

A large awning covered the chair of the Amanai. Her azure gown slightly deeper than the color of her eyes was opulent and spared no expense. With intricate patterns covering the bodice and a necklace of pale blue diamond about her neck she was unquestionably elegant. Her hair was tied up in cerulean silk ribbons. A faint blue paint glittered like liquid sapphires on her lips. And still she smiled coldly, looking at Orchid from her position of power in the chair situated on the low steps slightly elevated above the circle.

Lightning flashed again and there remained silence between them. It was maddening in all the pitter patter of rain. She waited patiently with hidden unease. She had to ask; she had no choice…for the sake of her daughter.

The silence of the sovereign of the house made Orchid nervous, she had no choice but to wait, but it was driving her insane. She knew that Cecille had despised her decision to leave the house for Rumel, the spice merchant. They had a past, albeit it was ended long before Rumel came. Still, it must have jarred Cecille, to see Orchid leave with another without telling her dearest friend and former significant other.

The position of Amanai required impartial ruling but then again, she was not convinced of Cecille‘s judgment right now. She felt as if she might as well give up, nothing was going to soften her heart to the idea. Even if Arkella, Orchid’s daughter, was noble born on her mother’s side, Rumel was a merchant, a spice merchant at that. If he was not successful as like right now, it would drive he and Orchid into common life and that was what she feared not for herself but for Arkella.

Orchid had done what she felt was right, and married for love. However, her daughter did not deserve to suffer for her mother’s heart. It was not her fault she was gotten unto Orchid. She was still a child and with proper raising could easily be the next jewel of the house. Orchid cared only that Arkella not hate life, because of love. Love was Orchid’s rose beautiful and thorny, but Arkella had nothing to feel bittersweet about. “No child deserves to suffer the consequence of ill begotten love.” she whispered to herself calling strength from places she did not know to deal with this.

Orchid had more success and was the jewel of the house in a time since passed, Cecille was Amanai now she had power, surely she could not resent Orchid after all these years. But Orchid knew the scars of love run deep. “My lady, please take my child, the common life is not for her. She is naught but two, please take her when she is of age by laws of the house. I will go wherever Rumel takes me, but I cannot let my only daughter suffer the price she need not pay. Please forgive her of my sins against this house, and against you.” The Amanai just stared blankly at Orchid with no emotion in her face. Her eyes boring into Orchid, staring at the emerald meadows which lay in her eyes.

Orchid stood firm and tall staring into those cold sapphires as the Amanai mulled over the plea. The Amanai raised a ring laden hand beckoning Orchid to come nearer. She smiled contemptuously malice perforating the few creases on her ripened features. It was simple in one word she said it all she had a talent for such things. “Why?” Thunder roared again seeming to beckon the sky to fall upon them. Orchid was at the point of threshold. She kept her face cool, and composed, but on the inside she was already sobbing.

“My lady…”

“Pariah!” The Amanai interrupted and thunder rolled at her booming voice.

“My lady….”

“Don‘t start with the formalities again. You‘ve turned your back on this family. Your marriage was not within the sanction of this house. How could you forsake those who gave you everything you always wanted for a barbarian spice merchant!? This house can give you all you may ever want, in return we ask that you leave the vagrant to his poverty. Then we will tend to you and the child. Jewel of my house, return to me.”

“Cecille, I ask this thing on the love you once held for me.” Tears rained from her eyes. The meadows of Blossom Valley pleading with the Amanai.

“My Lady,” it was Felicity, the second of house Aspara, who spoke this time. “I know she is pariah in your eyes, but surely we can raise the child as our own. The long years of service to us should allow us to take in the whore‘s ill begotten spawn. Who knows Cecille; maybe she‘s another jewel in the making… hmmm? What‘s her name?”

“Arkella, my lady Felicity. ” Orchid said not responding to the slur for sake of her daughter. “As for your request my lady Amanai, I cannot do this thing you ask of me. I cannot leave my husband, Rumel, for the sake of love ‘Drink deeply of love, and have no regrets’ .” She quoted the scripture, to defend her statement. “I simply ask you exempt my child of my sins. I cannot return to this house sovereign mother. I cannot do this thing, for I love another.” Orchid said casting her eyes down to the mirrored floor taking in her reflection once more. The storm rolled on and the lightning still painted violent streaks that came and went in mighty flashes in the sky. She glanced out the window and saw the pouring rain falling upon the city of Asaille.

“Orchid, if you do not return to our house, I can not take your child. I cannot support this, I’ll not have it said that house Aspara takes in the spawn of neglectful whores.” She paused to look outside the window at the city below. She promptly turned back to Orchid. “I have done too much, for this house. I have done far too much as far as letting you set foot within the gate, what you ask is too much. I have no time for this,” The Amanai said “Felicity, see her to the door.”

“Sovereign mother, please!” Orchid began to tremble “I cannot have my Arkella live the common life. I have made my choice. Please allow her to make hers! Cecille! Please!” She calmed herself after her short outburst. “My lady, please do this for me, not for the law of nobility, but for me.”

“Felicity…get this vermin out of my sight.” She said coldly. Felicity stood there still. “Hmm…promptly Felicity.”

“Yes,” Felicity said rather distantly. “I‘ll see her to the door right away.”

“Amara’s veil please Felicity,” Cecille said “This meeting is over.”

“Yes, sovereign mother.” Felicity, the Amanai’s second in command said to her. Her gray eyes as emotionless as those of her mentor. Her red waves of hair contrasted to her glorious and pale skin. A cold smile of pearly teeth met Orchid’s darting eyes. Felicity smirked smartly and began to take a step toward the rune that would activate the veil.

Orchid began to sob tears streamed down her delicate face. “My child is of this house. Please treat her as such: the next Jewel of house Aspara. She is noble born, though I am exiled. Please Cecille, I have committed my sins, but she is innocent of all my transgressions. Do not hold our falling out against my daughter! I am not going to stand for this!” she began to shout again “She is exempt of my crimes!”

“Wait! Felicity…calm. This could get interesting,” The Amanai whispered. “Watch and learn pupil.” A contemptuous smile filled with malice graced her features and her eyes shone, with a new vindictive light. As she stepped away from her original direction waiting for the Amanai to lay down judgment.

She began to speak again. “Orchid, sister of mine, love of mine, very well,” she paused a moment as her words began to sink in “I will take your whore spawn on the love that I held for you and nothing more. The least you could do is raise the child within our walls. Return to us,” her face grew kind and soft “to me” the words left her lips smooth and alluring.

“Cecille, please…do not ask of me….” Orchid began.

“We will support you, not that vagabond dealer.” She interrupted. “So I leave you a decision, join us and raise your daughter in a proper fashion or be a common woman like the rest. But remember this, we have no place for common wenches here. That barbarian has nothing for you, nothing to offer. We offer you the world. How do years of etiquette and a proper life among the peerage of Arca lead you to marry a barbarian peasant?” She spat the words with obvious contempt for Orchid’s husband.

“Cecille, for the benefit of your knowledge he is also Arcan, pure blooded. His mother is of the house Ephel.” She said as politely as possible, not wanting to forfeit that which she came for.

“You have your options near sister, return in a fortnight, with your decision. I hope that within the next month we are holding a gala in your honor.” The Amanai of house Aspara said coldly. Her sapphire eyes scorched icy holes into Orchid’s soul.

“I‘ll draw up the contract,” Felicity said as she left through a door on the left of the circular chamber. It was an amazing room, Orchid had always thought so. A curtain of water circled the back half of the room. And then there were the vines growing freely on the moist walls. A giant statue sat above the expanse of the water it was of Amara, their beloved life bringer. She held a jar in her left arm and a willow branch and a dagger sat in her right hand.

“Very well, we shall wait.” The Amanai said coolly, adjusting herself slightly.

It took until well past nine for felicity to return with three pages of script in her hands. “It is finished, all complete.” Orchid looked over the pages briefly, for it was quite late already. She quickly signed the last page and pressed her seal in wax. As soon as the Amanai had done the same, it was over.

With the contract taken care of, and the value of Arkella’s head set at six thousand Gold Curats, Orchid left her daughter’s fate in the hands of the Amanai. She was unsure of what her daughter’s life held in store. She didn’t really care as far as Arkella was not living the common life, it was not for her precious girl. As for her, she could live with poverty. The precepts of love held her steadfast to her merchant-husband. Though she at times felt deprived, she always had his love, and nothing more mattered.

“Thank you, sovereign mother. For your kindness. I return in a fortnight” Orchid said going into a deep curtsy before she turned to face the exit of the chamber. She walked off the mirrored floor and onto the glass walkway, water consoling her feet as it fell about the walkway into the pool below. She took in the blues of the room and almost jumped at the colossal snarl of the thunder she had forgotten about.

“Two weeks to make a decision” Orchid muttered under her breath as she progressed full faced out of the room toward the main chamber. There was a small gathering tonight and silence broke out among the guests and residents alike. There were roughly three hundred in the room, and they all silenced to a hushed whisper as before. She continued on head held high, for all to see.

As soon as Orchid had left in high hopes of her daughter not living a wretched life….

***

“Felicity…” said the Amanai.

“Yes, sovereign mother, what is it?”

“Add another page to the contract, and make sure that this Arkella abomination is taken care of. I want no unsanctioned, contamination child in my bloodline. We already know what Orchid will say to my request.”

“It is already taken care of. It is a pity that she did not read it before signing.” Felicity sighed, a frozen smile of contempt graced her lips as she raised her head and silently waved to order a glass of chilled wine.

“Now I remember why I chose you…” Cecille smirked amusement at her cold reflection in the ice. Her perfect visage, the perfect resemblance of Amara, bringer of life and death. The water-bearer.
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