Wicked and Pure


Kithara stood in the shadow of the room, watching as the midwife finished washing and swaddling the two newborn baby girls. The midwife murmured soothing things to the babies, but neither responded. Both were silent and seemingly withdrawn, almost as if mourning their mothers' deaths.

She clasped her hands tighter together, so that she wouldn't fidget.

"Are the children ready?" A voice floated from the doorway. Kithara turned to see a woman, tall and regal, with sharp features and bright, intelligent green eyes. Her brown hair was pulled back into a severe bun and she wore a high collared red dress.

"Yes," the midwife responded, "they're ready to go." The lady came forward, sweeping into the room with a disdainful look on her face.

"Very well, I'll take them then."

Take them? Kithara was supposed to take them. They were her charges after all. Decisively, she stepped into the woman's path.

"Excuse me, your ladyship, but the girls are my charges. I'm the only one with license to take them from the birthing rooms." She said firmly. The woman sneered at her.

"You're their guardian?" she asked mockingly. "I don't care if you were those girls's mother. I'm still taking them. Now step aside." But Kithara didn't move. She remembered how the two mothers had visited her before appointing her guardian. They'd asked – begged – her to not let anyone take the children.

"They're our only hope," is what they'd said. And now this red-clad woman thought that she would come in and take her charges.

"Cladissa," Kithara said, not turning around, "put the girls in their carriage, I'll be leaving in a moment."

"You'll do no such thing!" The red clad woman screeched angrily. "I travel across three contents, even through the Cursed Mountains. I'll not be stopped by some simple village girl!"

She did not step back when the woman pulled a medallion from her sleeve, nor when she released it, allowing it to hover.

"Kitharus," she murmured. A bubble formed around Kithara and the two newborn children. Quickly she scooped the two into her arms, grateful that Cladissa chose to ignore all that was happening around her, but had busied herself with stoking the fire.

"I don't know who you think I am, but I'm not a simple village girl," she told the woman angrily and stepped out of the shadows into the light of the fire. Long ago, she'd become accustomed to the gasps of surprise that came with anyone's first sight of her.

Kithara was of an average height, lightly built with blazing crimson eyes and hair – the mark of a level three magician. Her face was soft-featured, with small but full lips, and a narrow nose. On her left cheek was the tattoo of a single rose petal in black.

"Your magic doesn't frighten me in the least," She told the woman with a smirk, "but apparently, mine frightens you." She looked down at the two babies lovingly, then walked past the woman in red.

"You don't understand what you're doing! Those two infants will be the fall of our way of life." Kithara stopped and turned around, fixing the woman with a steely stare.

"No, you and the nobility will bring about our downfall. These two will be the rise to a new nation."

Well, it's been quite a while hasn't it my dear, dear friends. But I finally got some inspiration and this is the beginning of it. Review people. Tell me what you think. Love it, hate it, don't really get it. Just let me know. A bientot.