1Chapter 1: Small Haven
The sky was a brilliant dome of chalk-scarred sapphire, growing bright and fierce as the blue sun rose from behind its mountain cradle and flooded the valley below with light, beams creeping across the rooftops and cobblestones of the large and prosperous city of Small Haven and lancing into the sleep-sealed eyes of its inhabitants. A broad gate slammed open as a bleary-eyed Ork led a goat into a dark pen; a whirling mass of tentacles lashed around the tiny animal and dragged it, bleating noisily, into the shadows; the Ork, for whom this was apparently routine, smacked his thick rubbery lips, picked at a tusk, and slammed the gate shut on his way out, his duty done for another hour at least.
And then, as if the gate were some sort of signal, the city came to life. The market slowly filled to the brim as shops were raised, shutters on high windows all down the street thrown open to greet the daylight…where before there had been near-silence, the thrum of daily life rose up once again. One house in particular remained silent, however. More of a mansion, it belonged to the Sovereign Lord of Small Haven, and thus was allowed some small measure of late rising. It would not remain still for long.
In a flurry of motion, the exquisite decorative gate slid open just in time to allow two small riders to dart through on the backs of strange, two-legged beasts. With a recklessness that could only come from being children of the man in charge, the riders darted into the churning market, their sharp cries of excitement rising above the harsh barks and loud curses chasing after them. The wind of their movement in their faces, the riders steered the beasts through the crowd, plowing through street after street stuffed with those buying and those selling alike until at last they broke free on the other side.
"Hurry! Hurry!" The voice of the first carried back to the second, a small hand pointing ahead to the broad city gates and the three massive towers installed there. The leading beast squawked a loud warning, and dead ahead an old guard hurriedly yanked a smaller gate open, again just in time for the beasts and their riders to speed through. Immediately above them, a regiment of winged beasts spilled from the towers as the sun reached a specific point in its climb, armored men and women held aloft on their flying mounts by leather harness and rein as the creatures climbed up into the clouds, tailed below by the two unseen riders, who whooped and hollered as they followed as best they could after.
Finally, the flying regiment passed out of sight, and the two small riders slowed to a stop atop a hill, laughing giddily as the adrenaline drained from them, their beasts panting and wheezing as they clambered down into the soft grass. Still laughing, the leading child drew off the heavy and oversized rider's helmet, revealing a young and smooth-featured boy of twelve, soft brown eyes skyward and pale cheeks flushed; his shorter companion did the same, unmasking a girl who could have been his twin except for a smattering of freckles across her nose and a bright red hue to her eyes, flushed as well and smiling shyly.
"Did Father say where he is going?" She asked, breaking a moment of quiet, her own strange eyes following his gaze upwards to where the flying regiment and disappeared into the clouds; the boy shook his head in silence, shielding his eyes with a hand sheathed in cracked leather gloves. Their mounts, creatures with bright avian faces and covered with long shaggy fur, began to pluck contentedly at the dirt, broad feet clawing and scratching at bare patches of soil in which breakfast might be obtained. The inky black talon of the broader beast caught in a hidden hole; with a hungry bark, it plunged its beak inside and dragged out a tiny, plump humanoid creature, which wailed in fear. It then snapped it up, sharp teeth making quick work of the noisy meal. The thinner mount, interest peaked, began scratching around the area its counterpart had found.
The boy watched in quiet fascination as a whole family of the tiny creatures was unearthed and quickly consumed; the girl smirked. "Serves them right, nasty little werkeds. Did you hear a whole colony of them tunneled into the city and broke into the Gryphon hatchery? Mother says we lost ten eggs to them until Ker had the sense to send my blok in after them." She gave her broad mount a happy pat; the beast leaned against her hand, emitting a deep purr.
The thinner mount looked up from its meal, intense eyes losing focus for a moment and then swinging around to address the boy. "Hrrrrome? Lor' Willem go hrrrrrome?" It chirped, head tilting inquisitively, its words garbled almost beyond recognition as it struggled to speak the rough human tongue. The boy sighed, and kicked disinterestedly at the ravaged corpse of a werked. "And then, before you get too proud of them, you remember that they all share one big brain that only your mother can commune with, and are individually about as independent as a twitching muscle in your arm." His voice was quiet, but still managed to express his disgust.
The girl glared at him, still rubbing "her" mount absently. The bloks both stared at him, heads tilted at different angles as the simple hive mind behind their eyes apparently tried to puzzle him out. "Hrrrrrome?" The thin blok chirped again after a minute, and this time the thicker joined in, repeating the question with its counterpart over and over again until finally Willem growled a sharp "Enough!"
The mounts fell silent, but knelt, suggesting their riders should mount up; with one last look at the sky, Willem leaped gracefully atop the thin blok, jerking his head towards the city gates and clicking his tongue. "C'mon, Lissa. Mother probably wants us to scrub the brain down again." Blok and rider sped off towards the gates; with one last glance towards the sky, the girl mounted the thicker beast and clicked her tongue, urging her blok onward. It paused only long enough to snatch up a half-consumed werked, and then raced after its partner…
It was easy to see that the Sovereign Lady of Small Haven was a beautiful woman. Willowy and pale, her long black hair accentuated her bright red eyes and slender features. The light blue mage-silks she wore could either hide or boast every curve, depending on how she wore them; this morning, they were in the form of a cloak as a ward against the chill, long arms wrapped tightly around her as she leaned against the gate leading to the dark pen in the middle of the town. Her strange eyes searched the sky, burning with their own inner brilliance—always the sign of a powerful witch-mage, or so it was said. "Bring home good news, for once…" She whispered, in the spidery tongue of magic. It was not a spell, but anything spoken in magic-tongue had a strange way of making itself happen. One had to be careful, especially when the words were sung like simple spells are; the Sovereign Lady never sang her wishes.
But that was neither there nor then, and her eyes dropped down to meet the sounds of commotion. At last, two bloks burst from the crowd, honking wildly despite their obvious exhaustion, excitement in their golden bird-eyes at the sight of the pen and the barn within. The two riders climbed down, the girl with a little less grace…she would never be the rider her brother was. The Lady fought amusement down as she spied a tiny leg poking from the corner of the bigger blok's mouth; she was supposed to be upset. Upset at her children. And yet…
She fell to her knees with a laugh as her daughter jumped into her arms, small cold cheeks against her own as she swung her child about, and set her down to plant a kiss on her son's forehead, smiling wryly at his embarrassed expression. "Following your father to the Court, were we?" She asked, smile blossoming into a grin as both children laughed and nodded. Willem's eyes were already on the barn, his mirth short-lived; when his glance returned to his mother, she gave a brief nod, already knowing his question. "Yes, Willem. Being a Lordling doesn't mean you're now free of your old responsibilities now that you have new ones." He opened his mouth to protest, but she cut him off. "Besides, Ex-Nine likes you. You treat his 'hands' well."
As if mention of the barn's resident was enough, a resonant voice echoed through her mind. 'I am ready, Duls-Naya. Send the boy, please.' She gave a small frown at the butchering of her name; none of the Minds seemed able to understand the concept of naming, for they certainly didn't refer to themselves by the nicknames their magical creators had given them. Without replying to the Mind, she made a little shooing motion with her hand, earning a groan from her son, and then reluctant compliance.
As soon as Willem had grabbed the battered tin bucket and disappeared into the shadows of the barn, the Sovereign Lady Dulsinaya crouched to stare into her daughter's own strange eyes, which glowed for a moment with reflected luminescence. "…And what did my little Lady Arlyssa see in the Winds, today?"
With no small amount of hesitation, Willem ducked into the barn and into the shadow which Ex-Nine preferred, squinting in an attempt to adjust his eyes to the level of light more quickly. Gusts of air swirled about his ankles; the Mind was breathing deeply. Relaxed.
Finally, Willem's eyes adjusted, and he took in the sight of Ex-Nine with no less awe and fear than the first time he had ever seen the creature. All in all, the Mind was a giant ovoid lump of green, pulsating flesh, crossed and crisscrossed with bulging purple veins. The narrow end, facing the entrance to the barn, was ringed with a multitude of glistening black eyes of various shapes and sizes; at the very tip, a thick mass of tentacles sprouted, writhing slowly in the dirt. Somewhere within that forest of tentacles was a rather beastly maw; Willem had seen it but once and never wanted to see it again. As usual, the Mind was splattered with gore from its early-morning meal, bits of fur and blood clinging to both tentacle and hide. Sensing his presence more than seeing him, the Mind stirred, shifting with a wheeze. Two slender tentacles beckoned him forward, in what was supposed to be a comforting gesture, Willem supposed…he'd never been anything but frightened by the Mind.
He took a deep breath, hiding a grimace, and ran a hand through his short black hair. "Might as well get it over with…" He muttered.
A/N: This is a flashback, just in case you're confused.
Eh-heh. ANYWAY! Look for chapter two, coming soon!