Rebel the Dynasty
Welcome One and All.
This is my story and I will jot, as I like. Please keep in mind this story has the following:
Mainly DRAMA, FANTASY in the background, HUMOR at inappropriate moments, and ROMANCE just because I like it.
FLAMERS ARE WELCOME. SMILE IN YOUR NEW HAVEN. CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICS NEEDED. If you don't have anything constructive to say, get out of the kitchen.
Thank you. Read on, my dear friends smile innocently
Garnneth really never meant to gain a fiancée, a ghost, a slave mage, and a refugee genius all in the same day. When he set out that day, he had one thing firmly planted in his mind.
He was going to get some turnips.
And yes, he was very determined to get those turnips. He would get those turnips. He would fry those turnips. And damn it, he would eat those turnips for dinner.
He wasn't expecting to gain four other experienced people, start the biggest revolution in history, and then continue the revolution throughout history.
He just wanted turnips.
The day always started out early in Saodoso. It was one of the strange things that Garnneth still could not quite comprehend, despite the fact he had lived in that court for a few years now. There seemed to be three main rules:
The day started early.
The day ended late.
The day was hot.
Up above, the sun sizzled the sweat on his tan brow. He hastily mopped it up with his well-worn and grimy sleeve. He had strange cold gray eyes and a broad nose, his hanging against his face in jagged spikes. His skin was a deep tan, deeper than usual from the locals. But other than that fact, he looked just the same as everyone else.
And he was out to conquer some turnips.
His aunt ran an inn down a dust-covered street and that night, she was determined to serve her guests her special turnip formula. One of the most important ingredients, of course, was ginger. They had ginger. They just didn't have the pinch of turnip.
"Two copper geras. Not a bit more," Garnneth growled, holding out the money to the dealer.
"These turnips cannot be bargained. Five copper geras, or no deal," the shopkeeper sneered. They were standing in front of a poorly made stand, barely standing with so much jostling. But there were the precious turnips sitting in the bin right in front of it and Garnneth had just trekked around the city—twice—in the afternoon heat—looking for some damn turnips and when he wanted turnips, he would get turnips.
"Two copper geras and one copper half-gera," Garnneth finally said, pounding out a smaller coin.
"No deal. I get better price with little old ladies," the man sneered. Garnneth stared at him for a second more, and then leaned menacingly close to him.
"Listen here, sir," Garnneth hissed, his eyes flashing with anger and fury. He was usually the silent, calm one, but when he grew angry…
"I just went through the burning heat of this stupid city to find some stupid turnips for my stupid aunt to cook into a stupid paste that doesn't even taste that well in the first place. I'm sweaty, tired, and my patience—I'm sorry to say—isn't all that up to bat. I've met those little old ladies all around the stupid city and believe me, sir; you wouldn't even get a full gera from them. So unless you would kindly agree to the bargain, sir, I might want to do things that might not be legal," Garnneth growled.
The shopkeeper judged Garnneth silently.
"Two copper geras and one copper half," he said importantly, handing Garnneth a bag of turnips.
"Thank you." Garnneth gave the man his money and stomped away, leaving trails of dust behind and almost running over some little old ladies.
Then he heard it.
Oh, in the future, when he not-so-fondly looked back on his memories, he wished he would have turned the other cheek and just gone back to his little inn and to his not-so-sweet aunt and given her the hard-earned turnips.
The sounds grew louder of a scuffle, a fight. And Garnneth never turned away from a fight for a good cause. Though, this time, it wasn't what drew him to that fight. It was just plain curiosity.
A wall of people had grown around the fighting pair and Garnneth pushed through them, through the jostling heat and how icky it felt to be close to someone sweating as many pounds as him. Inside the circle, he was well rewarded by the sight.
Two elves, apparently, were fighting viciously. They both wore their clan marks on their elegant costumes, with their short tunics going to mid-thigh, a belt, and breeches. Both were female, one with more accented ears than the other. Garnneth could easily distinguish between the two of them and knew it was an age-old fight he was watching.
One of the elves had a small fire dancing on its tunic and the other a leaf. They were from the Fire Clan and the Tree Clan, the Elvin tribe who always fought. Garnneth watched with morbid fascination between the two young and beautiful females.
One had blond hair, tied back in a neat ponytail and her bangs falling just right across her ice-cold blue eyes. She hissed faintly, drawing back from a kick and latching herself onto the leg to throw the other over. The other one was a red-haired girl, with longer hair than the other and whose hair was tied just around her waist. The latter was from the Fire Clan.
"Nashi wi desdi noa!" the Fire Clan elf hissed.
"Noa gi na soo!" The other one said back, and then threw the Fire Clan elf out of the pit.
"Y shi no wai," she said angrily, her eyes glinting once more before she began her long walk away. The crowd respectfully parted for her. Garnneth could barely understand elf language, and he wasn't about to start now, but he had a feeling it was some kind of gloat.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, the Fire Clan elf sprang away from the dirt and grime and somewhere between ground and air had drawn up a sharp knife. The knife glinted evilly in the sun and the Tree Clan elf continued walking, oblivious to the oncoming danger.
The next thing he knew, Garnneth found himself in the circle, holding a bag of turnips in one hand and the elf's girl hand in the other. And he found himself face to face with a knife.
With a furious yank, he pushed the girl to the ground.
"Naaoi no ga!" the Tree Clan girl screamed, "Na'shi. Na'shi no whoga." She spat on the ground by the furious red haired girl, spinning away to kick some dust into her face. But then she stopped, turning interestedly to Garnneth.
"Thank you," she said, her voice heavily accented. It sounded like each of her words had a weight attached to it, heavier at the end of the word. Elvin accent.
"Wasn't nothing." Garnneth respectfully played the part of a country yokel visiting the big city.
"Yes, it was. I could have done it myself, of course," the girl said, instantly snapping to attention and scowling at him.
"Yep." Garnneth tried to edge away. He wasn't quite familiar with dealings of magic. He was no magic-dealer, no way no how.
"You shouldn't have defended me, you nagit," she sizzled, positively mad now.
"Nope." Get out. Put turnips to safety. Cower under bed.
"Now I must marry you," she said reluctantly, spitting out every word, "For saving my life." She suddenly bowed down, her forehead almost touching the dirt, in front of Garnneth. There were murmurs of respect from the crowd.
"What a gain. An elf for a wife," someone said, obviously impressed. Garnneth rolled his eyes up in the air, as if seeking an answer for all the folly before his eyes.
"I don't need a wife," he grumbled, "I…release you of all debts."
"You cannot. You must now go meet my father and we will be married in the morning," she said, standing up and grabbing his arm. He stared down at it pointedly, but she did not remove her hand.
"I'm sorry, but I'm already engaged," Garnneth said. That usually worked.
There was a glint as a knife was drawn out. "Who?"
Luckily, before Garnneth had a chance to pin it on some random passerby, there was a thin brush of air.
"Geshi!" the girl gasped, spinning around with her knife still drawn. People murmured, drawing away quickly. Ghost. Magical dealings around Saodoso weren't exactly rare, but meeting two magical creatures in one day was more than most could handle.
"Please don't be frightened of me," a sweet voice clearly rang out, "I—"
People began screaming, running away, pushing each other for their dear little lives. Garnneth was impressed of how quickly the street cleared out. He stayed there, of course, since he had no reason to fear a ghost in mid-day. Mid-day ghosts? Peaceful.
"I'm not a ghost," it finished weakly. Garnneth could now see the form. It was a girl, like the elf, except not an elf. She had a small, pointed face as well as sweet rosebud lips. Her hair was long, going to her waist, and both hair and eyes were pointed silver. She was wearing an elegant, draping dress like royalty wore.
"What are you, then?" the elf demanded.
"I'm just traveling from my body," the girl sighed, "I have been encased in ice for so long that I escaped and—please, won't somebody find me?"
Stupidly enough, that wasn't the first time Garnneth had heard that statement.
"A spell," the elf murmured, looking at Garnneth approvingly.
"Yeah." Garnneth picked up his bag of turnips and began to turn away.
"No! Please, all you need to do is travel to my body and break the spell," the girl begged, drifting after Garnneth, "My parents can reward you finely. They are the King and Queen of their own kingdom."
"Ah—what?" Garnneth stared at the girl. "Kingdoms are over, madam. Dukes and duchesses rule now."
"Oh, dear. Has it really been that long? What year is this?" the girl frowned, her kindly face wrinkled by thought.
Stupidly enough, again that wasn't the first time Garnneth had heard that statement.
"We should break the spell," the elf said enthusiastically, her eyes gleaming as she stared at Garnneth, "We can then wind it up and bring the refuse to my clan to use. It would be the perfect gift for my father, and I have plenty dowry in return."
"No, I'm not going to marry you, and no, I'm not going to rescue you," Garnneth growled, picking up his bag of turnips and beginning his march down the street. People were cautiously returning as the other girl made she invisible again.
"Come on," the elf grumbled, pulling on a large-brimmed hat. It wasn't so much to fence away the sun than to hide her sharp ears.
"No. I must return to my poor inn." Garnneth shifted the bag of turnips to the other shoulder and continued marching down the street.
"I'm sorry, sir, but I really do need someone to rescue me! You're the only one so far who hasn't run away!" the other girl begged. Garnneth tried to ignore both voices as he went down the second street. Only a few more, and he would be at his poor little inn. Ah, home sweet home…
"I'll give you money, naaoi ga. It shall be done." The Tree Clan elf looked expectantly at Garnneth.
"Look, Ms…?" Garnneth said, turning around to look her in the face.
"Lily. Call me Lily of the Trees."
"Lily of the Trees," Garnneth said formally, "I have no intention of marrying. I personally think marriage is the way to tie down a man and kill him slowly by torture. So, if you'd please go away…"
"No way," Lily scowled, "Nashi wai. I have spoken."
"You seem to be a nice elf, Lily of the Trees," Garnneth said stiffly, "But I don't marry random strangers off the street."
"Come on…what's your name?" Lily frowned.
"Garnneth," he muttered darkly.
"My name is Silina," the ghostly girl said unhappily, "Won't you please rescue me?"
"Marry me, then."
"Look, we're both going to continue badgering you until you choose," Lily said, stepping in front of him.
"Though we are both apologetic for harassing you so much," the timid voice said.
"Speak for yourself," Lily retorted, "Nao wai."
A jerking scream cut them both off. Three pairs of eyes turned to look at the platform they were in front of. Three people were on top of said stage, one the owner of the scream. He was a small man, wearing jerkins, and looking sadly down at his pile of groceries smashed into oblivion. The air reeked of magic.
The other two on the stage were obviously together, standing to one side. One was a slick man, with slick back black hair and a mustache to fit. His dark eyes twinkled mysteriously and his smile was humorously. His clothes were nice, decorated finely with jewels and gold chains. His cuffs were neat and clean, his buttons all shiny, and even his boots polished to a brim.
His partner in crime wasn't so happy looking. He was obviously a mage, wearing a nice mage outfit of a draping gray robe that brushed against the floor and was way too large for him. It looked more like a habit, though, with a simple rope tied around it and the hood on the back. His hair was a scruffy mess, his skin unnaturally glowing pale, and his eyes too large and too green.
"Do not," said the slick backed man, "Mess with me." He came forward with one threatening step to the grocery man. The corners of his mouth twitched into a merciless smile, the kind that sent shivers up spines.
"I'm sorry, sir, but it was an accident! Sir, please, those were a month's wages!" the man begged, kneeling and holding out his hands for mercy.
Mercy, the other man did not have. "Strike, mage," he said in an almost bored tone.
The mage turned slightly so his words could barely be heard. "But, sire, it truly was an accident…"
"Now, mage!" the man commanded, slapping him in the face. The mage stepped back, the mark red across his cheek, but obeyed. Closing his eyes, he held out small hands and a ball of energy began to form in it. It was the simplest form of magic, energy magic, and Garnneth watched as the green ball of power twisted and shaped.
Slowly, uneasily, the mage opened his eyes again at the victim. "Sire, this man has done—"
The man suddenly drew from his tunic a simple rock, glowing with magical energy. He then drew out a bracelet, decorated finely with rubies and emeralds and such. Sticking the glowing rock back inside, he twisted the bracelet fiercely in one swift move.
Suddenly, the mage screamed in pain and Garnneth could now see that the large robe purposefully masked the magic cuffs. They looked ordinary, like regular cuffs, except when activated, would spread out blue energy across the body. And the mage had one on both wrists, both ankles, and his neck.
"You may go," the man said coolly, staring at the victim kneeling before his feet, "I must deal with my slave." Then he waved a dismissive hand at the victim, turning before his mage.
"He can't do that!" Lily gasped, and then leaped forward before Garnneth could stop her. The mage was on his knees, the blue energy rapidly fading, but he still trembled before his master.
"You have been too disobedient since I first bought you!" the man cried, his vulture-like voice rising sharply, "You have never harmed a person when I have told you! This must end now!"
"You can't treat people like that," Lily shouted, pointing a sharp finger at the man, "I know humans are nothing more than dehans, but it is wrong to treat your own kind that way!"
"What does an elf know about this?" the man snarled, drawing out his rock again. It was bursting with power—Garnneth could see that. It pushed its way past limitations and he could see that some easily leaked out to the man. The green edge looked familiar…
"Dehans," Lily growled, "Just when they could get no lower…" She sprang away as the energy splintered the wood where she had been standing moments ago. Garnneth looked with a mixture of amazement and boredom as she sprang again, this time directly for the man. But the energy shield was too much for her and she bounced away harmlessly.
"Perhaps I can lend my powers to this," Silina said doubtfully, reappearing again. She drifted onto the platform, shyly standing beside Lily.
"What is a ghost doing here?" the man gasped, staggering back.
"It's not a ghost!" Lily snapped, "It's a—"
"Teshe. Spirit," the mage finished hoarsely, looking up.
"You know the Elvin language?" Lily asked, interested.
"Yes. I know many languages, but mainly the language of music, which is universal," the mage answered softly.
"Gena no guuohi, jer."
"La vis jon suga," the mage responded easily.
"Enough of this nonsense!" the man yelled, taking the rock above his head, "I command you to obey!"
"You cannot command me to kill!" the mage said, whirling around defiantly, "You may be my master, but I—"
"You? You are nothing beneath me!" the man screamed back, holding the rock even higher, "I raised you!"
The mage clearly hesitated.
"And I beat you! Obey me or else face the punishment!"
Whatever the punishment was, Garnneth assumed as he climbed up to the platform, it must have been pretty bad. The mage winced, holding his head gently, and then looked up with desperation in his eyes. There was pain on one side and his moral on the other. And Garnneth saw no reason for his moral to hold out.
"No," Silina said clearly, drifting forward, "You cannot beat him any longer. We claim him."
"Claim him? He is my property!" the man roared.
"We claim him," Lily declared, drawing her knife and stepping forward.
"Yeah." Garnneth was a man of few words. He knew when to speak, but he usually spoke the minimum. Shifting his bag of turnips, he felt around for his dagger.
"Impossible! I have bled him, bought him!" the man cried.
"Actually, there are many ways they can claim him." An intellectual voice came from below the platform and everyone peered over to the girl standing there.
She was dressed in journey clothes, a sand-colored tunic and breeches. Her face was a wide, open one, but her eyes were darting with intelligence past her shoulder-length brown hair. But something about her spoke that she was distant, that she was thinking of something else when she spoke.
"Like how, little girl?" the man growled.
"What age is he?" she asked, pointing to the mage.
"He'll be meeting fifteen moons this spring," the man grumbled.
"Oh. Well, he needs to be at least eighteen for the first claim to work. Two more questions: one, have you really shed blood from him?"
"Yes." The man smiled mirthlessly again and Silina shivered.
"Then you are both bound. The last way to claim him, then," the girl said respectfully, "Is to either pay for him or fight for him, both of which the master must agree to."
"I'm not fighting for a mage. I don't need one," Garnneth said, shaking his head.
"Please…it is for a right cause," Silina whispered, her eyes filled with pain for the mage, "He has suffered so much. I can feel it. Please." Garnneth stared into the wide silver eyes for a moment.
"Damn it. Fine, I will fight for him," Garnneth said, stepping forward. Lily beamed.
"That's my going to be husband, everybody!"
"I am not."
"I must agree to the fight, yes? Then I do not agree to it. There is no chance I am losing my prize mage to a bunch of do-gooders," the man sneered, jerking the mage back.
"Challenge him on his honor," the girl from below said calmly, picking up a scroll from her pocket and beginning to read it.
"I challenge you on your honor to fight me for your mage," Garnneth said awkwardly.
"I refuse," the man said instantly, "Nothing is worth my slave."
"Then, since your honor has been challenged and you have denies to right of proof, your honor is temporarily gone. In this part of time, the challenger has the opportunity to plea that in the case of his challenge-ee, since he has no honor to protect, he can take the mage from the despicable nobody." The girl nodded affirmatively and stared back into the scroll.
"Just try!" the man said, taking out a sword suddenly and holding it to Garnneth's throat.
"Since this is no longer a one-on-one wager challenge, anyone may stake claim on the goods," the girl said clearly, "Which means anybody can take part in the fight and anybody…"
She stepped forward onto the platform and placed a hand on the mage's shoulder.
"Anybody can stake claim."
The silence was threatening. The man gave a sudden growl, trying to jerk the sword forward, when Lily appeared from his side and knocked him down. He futilely fought against her, but it might as well have been a man fighting against nature.
Finally, he lost his sword down the platform. Lily was holding him by his throat against a brick wall, her smile fetal.
"Hello," she purred, "Now will you submit to me?"
The man began laughing. Garnneth and Silina exchanged nervous glances.
"Never!" he cackled madly, "Never!" He rose up the glowing stone again and the green magic zipped out, striking Lily at the chest. She gave a cry, but got knocked back into the floor. Painfully, she groaned and rubbed where the bolt had struck.
"Get the stone!" the intelligent girl cried, leaping up to her feet, "He has magic!"
"More than that! Energy power, power!" the man screamed. Garnneth leapt forward with his knife, but another bolt of green hit him in the chest. It was like a ton of bricks electrifying every bit of his body and he was sent back, nearly twitching in pain with the energy still rippling beneath his skin. Groaning, he sat up again.
"Oh, dear," Silina said worriedly, dodging a magic bolt. Even she wasn't immune to the magic in spirit form.
A sweet tune was carrying out then, and the glow of stone began to fade.
"What? No!" the man cried, feeling the stone desperately. His eyes went to his mage, who was playing the flute serenely.
"Yes. He is recalling back his magic," the intelligent girl said smugly, "And he has a right to do that, property or no."
"He cannot!" the man wailed futilely, and with his bare hand, he reached out and caught a few strands. He screamed in agony as the energy rippled from his hand to his body, jumping up and down frantically.
The mage removed his lips from the flute. "Rebel the Dynasty!" he cried strongly, "I, Mage Damien, call back my power!" Then he went back to playing his swift music, growing stronger and stronger until the stone dropped to the floor, simply a stone again.
"No! No!" the man cried desperately. As the last magic tendril went out of his grasp, he slumped against the floor. As soon as the last magic tendril whipped back into the mage, he stood there for a moment before thumping against the floor.
"They're both fine," the intelligent girl said as Silina rushed forward towards the mage. "He is not used to having his full power back and the other man was burned too far by the powerful magic. By the way, I'm Eva, and I'm on the run from the guards from across the border. Can we go now?"
Garnneth just gaped at the sight.
Blair—child of the fields
Damien—sweet and harmless