Raiha Posted June 24, 2009 Share Posted June 24, 2009 [COLOR="DarkOrchid"][FONT="Times New Roman"][i]Lyfe Akanessler, youngest daughter of her father's many children lay suspended between wake and sleep. Perfumed smoke and incense whirled across her face while her aura spun slowly around her physical body. Her father, his face shrouded in shadows leaned over her, shards of silver light glistening in his hands. Her flesh felt seared to the bone as he chanted in a rhythmic roll of the tongue, pressing needles of both steel and magic into her. As the pain running down her spine and across her arms slowly died down to a nagging throb her eyes momentarily focused and she saw him smile down at her.[/i] "Dearest Lyfe, heart of my heart. You will be the last of your kind, perhaps the greatest of them. Swear to serve me for as long as you breathe." [i]She tried to speak, but felt herself pinned to the table she lay upon, her father's obsidian eyes boring into her mind. A terrible pain in her chest began to grow, like he had suddenly stabbed her through the heart. Unable to blink, unable to even pull together a coherent thought, she stared back, her amber eyes catching the flickering torchlight.[/i] "Yes father. As long as I breathe." [i]He smiled again and released her, looking away to a side table. Lyfe blinked rapidly, then relaxed herself and watched her father putting away the case of needles he'd used to score her skin with. She looked down and saw the skin of her arms, puffy and red around the spiraling interlaced lines of blue and black. Immediately her back began to itch and she resisted the urge to move, waiting until her father had left the chamber.[/i] [center]*******[/center] [i]The dull thud of hoof beats on a hard packed dirt road was the only sound besides that of a massive Shire gelding's even breathing. Clinging to his black mane with her spine hunched across his neck, Lyfe looked hardly larger than a child. The gelding ran, picking up speed as they coursed down a hill into a narrow valley and into the demense of a Lord Cynven. Checking her mount's speed as they neared the village that stood the closest to his dun and brooch Lyfe sat up a little straighter in the saddle as Ulf assumed a steady trot. Reaching behind her, she pulled her boots out of her left saddlebag and pulled them on and laced them up as Ulf slowed down to a steady walk. Pulling her hood up across her face, she slowly gathered her thoughts and reflected on the first mission her father had given her. Find Lord Cynven, demand that he turn over the fled traitor Benwyck to her father's justice. Failing his cooperation, she had orders to both take Benwyck by force and burn Lord Cynven's brooch to the ground with him in it. For his sake, Lyfe hoped Lord Cynven would prove tractable. Leaving Ulf tied up in front of a tavern in the village, Lyfe completed the short walk to the brooch on her own. Reaching the main gates in a very short amount of time, Lyfe strode forward boldly, the soldiers coming to attention at the sight of the family crest on her ring brooch. They parted automatically their spears, as if they'd had word of her coming, and she rode through the heavy iron gates into Lord Cynven's compound. He was waiting for her in the great hall, a glass goblet in one hand and an insolent smile on his face. Near him sat Benwyck, the man her father had deemed a traitor to their family. Lyfe dimly recalled Benwyck as being her cousin in some way, another noble born like her, but not marked the way she was.[/i] "Lady Lyfe Akanessler, welcome to the hospitality of my hall." "Lord Cynven. As the voice of the Akanessler clan, I demand that you turn over Benwyck to me as prisoner that he might return to my family's lands and stand trial in my father's court for crimes against his clan and the gods of our people." "Is that so?" "It is." "Brave words little girl. For a child barely into womanhood, you seem to be gifted with an inordinate amount of courage. But I doubt you have the means to take Benwyck by yourself." "Again I ask, please turn Benwyck over to me." "I do not think he desires to go with you, regardless of how pretty you may be under that cloak." [i]Lyfe watched as her cousin stood, drawing his sword as he did. Lord Cynven took an insolent sip of mead and watched Lyfe's reaction. To her credit, she didn't blanch. Instead she threw her hood back and called forth power from the massive spiraling tattoos across her arms and back. Light and fire blazed up at once, suffusing her skin with a pale silver glow. She took one step forward, her cloak billowing backwards in the breeze created by the energy she was pulling together.[/i] "This is the third and last time I'll ask. Surrender Benwyck at once, or I will call down fire and destroy your dun and end your life."[/FONT][/COLOR] Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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