The babe cried weakly. It was cold and hungry, and only a few days old. Alone, the moonlight bathed the infant, a soft breeze caused leaves to rustle and the soft cries finally reached the ears of a temple guard. “Damn cats really need to stay out of the herb garden” Still, he moved towards the sound, almost led by the rustling leaves and the glow of the Dreamweaver’s moon.
“Merciful gooddess, what is this?” He lifted the abandoned child who hiccuped and screamed all the louder. There was no note, no clue as to how the child got there, but the child was turning blue with cold. He rushed within the temple, calling for the priestesses.
The infant was unwrapped and examined, the girl child perfectly formed, a crescent shaped mark plain to see upon her chest. The priestesses all looked at each other as they swaddled the child and attempted to get the babe to drink warmed goat’s milk.
The child was not cooperating, screaming in frustration and anger, refusing to calm, refusing to suckle. Until the guard who first found her took her from the priestess holding her. “Hush now, little warrior, the temple is a place of quiet.” The man’s voice made the infant cease in her screams and the Moonblade was the one who saw the eyes open, the hazy blue of a newborn already showing streaks of gold. The babe began to suckle from the rag and the Moonblade felt his heart melt.
A few days later, Reginald received permission to raise the foundling as his own. It was unexpected, for the Moonblade was not wed, nor seemed to have any inclinations to seek a wife. Yet the temple elders could not deny the bond that had already formed between the Dreamweaver’s warrior and the babe. It could also not be ignored that the child was marked with the symbol of the Mother and found in Her very garden. Reginald named her Pheobe and willingly became her father, vowing to safe-guard this gift from the goddess.
--------------
“Pheobe, why are you here? It is not safe...you are supposed to be at lessons!” Reginald scowled at his ward even as he battled the undead within the tomb. The five year old was his constant shadow and she would sneak out of the temple to follow him whenever she could. But this tomb was no place for a child .
Golden eyes watched as the Moonblade battled the walking, rotting corpses. She showed no fear, watching her foster father with an unshakable faith that he would prevail. Her skin was pale, a dirt smudge on her cheek marring an innocent child-like beauty. She rarely smiled, her nature entirely too serious and Reginald again wondered if he did the right thing in insisting he could raise her.
He dispatched the undead before coming to kneel in front of the child, gently tugging her hand down when she moved to place her thumb in her mouth. “You are supposed to be in lessons with Catronia, little warrior, she will be annoyed with you.” He was not surprised to see the child scowl.
“I don’t wanna be a priestess and stuck in the temple...I wanna be a Moonblade…” She pouted up at him and he had to tug gently at one of her braids.
“Even Moonblades should know to read and write, little warrior, but I know you yearn to be outside. Shall we see if Catronia will be willing to hold your lessons in the garden?” He was rewarded with a small nod and he felt himself relax slightly.
“Pheobe, I give you my word...when you are old enough and strong enough, I will teach you to fight myself...but little one, you are too young to come with me now. And my heart would break if I could not keep you from harm. You cannot keep following me into danger , little warrior...not yet…”
The child regarded him solemnly and held up her five fingers. “How many more until I can follow you?”
Reginald shook his head a bit before opening her other hand then showing his own open hand. “Five and five more.”
His ward gave a long suffering sigh. “But that is forever…” the last word drawn out in a way only a child can do. The Moonblade couldn’t hold back a laugh as he swept her up in his arms to carry her back to the temple. “Little warrior, the gods only give you so long to be a child...when the goddess is ready for you to become a Moonblade, you will know. But...until then…” he tweaked her nose, “you best learn your letters and sums.”
The Moon-born
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baby1111007
- Dragon Rider
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The Moon-born
.-------------------
Reina Lianacia Mellan, Musae Magister of the Ordo Magica
Tahl'Nae Rhaz
Cynthia Ashallows , Moonsinger
Yaassima
Isabella Quick
Reina Lianacia Mellan, Musae Magister of the Ordo Magica
Tahl'Nae Rhaz
Cynthia Ashallows , Moonsinger
Yaassima
Isabella Quick
-
baby1111007
- Dragon Rider
- Posts: 878
- Joined: Fri Sep 22, 2006 9:33 pm
- Location: cooking up a storm in the kitchens
Re: The Moon-born
Today was her birthday, though she knew it was not exactly. Reginald explained it that he chose that day he had found her to celebrate. He had been very honest about how he found her, which was likely a good thing. Those of the temple might be devoted to the Dreamweaver and used to keeping secrets, but many who came for learning or aid were not above gossip. Pheobe’s parentage had been the subject of speculation for as long as she could remember.
She had been given the day off from lessons, most expecting the child to play and be a child. Instead the twelve year old girl was roaming the farmlands, gathering herbs and talking with animals when her father found her. He watched her for a moment, his eyes pensive.
In spite all of his efforts, Pheobe remained a rather solitary figure. She made few friends her own age, spending most of her free time with the elder Moonblades and priestesses. Catronia once declared that she believed Pheobe to be born in the wrong age. Reginald did not know if that was certain, but did see that his squire Blaine was the closest friend Pheobe had to her own age, and that young man was eight years older than she.
“You are late, little warrior.” She looked up at his voice, a fox cub in her lap. “I am sorry, father...I had to help free this little guy...but I do not think his mother is still around.” Her eyes became almost pleading.
“Pheobe...no wild animals in the temple...and his mother is a few feet behind you waiting for him.” He bit back a smile as she looked behind her, her eyes shifted back and forth a bit and she placed the fox down to scamper to its mother. It was only then she noticed the box held in his hand.
He came to crouch down next to her, a large man in armor next to a child that was a bit too skinny for her age and coltish. He placed the box upon her lap and waited for her to open it. The box was long, not quite flat, not bulky, but heavy. She tilted her head as she slowly opened the lid, then her eyes went wide with stunned delight. Within lay a longsword, similar to what Reginald tended to wield himself, though made for a smaller hand. She reverently picked up the hilt, wise eyes noticing subtle differences. It was a sword designed to train and teach, a weapon...yes, but one still designed more for sparring than war. She could see the runes of the Dreamweaver inscribed along the blade, the decoration on the pommel that turned it into a work of art as well as a tool for training. She knew in an instant that her father had the blade special made for her, taking as much care with this training blade as most warriors would with a true weapon.
“Does this mean…?” Her words trailed off, her voice trembling as she slowly realized that one of her greatest dreams may be within reach. He could hear the excitement and hope in her voice and he placed his arm around her shoulders.
“It means you begin training with Blaine and I tomorrow after lessons. It will be hard work, little warrior, and you are not allowed to slack on your studies. A Moonblade must train with her mind as well as her body. The goddess has blessed you with many gifts, I will not allow you to neglect one for the others.”
His hand squeezed her shoulder. gently. “Mornings will be spent in class learning your history and theology. Afternoons will be spent in drills with Blaine or myself. Evenings will be spent in study.” For a moment, he wondered if he would be driving the girl too hard, placing too much upon her slender shoulders. But she just smiled, looking at him as if he had just given her the world.
--------------------
Pheobe was aware of the hostile eyes on her as she again answered one of the priestess’ questions. She attended lessons with some who were training to be clerics, but also with the children of worshippers who’s parents wished them to recieve a further education. Many of these students were not as serious minded, and because of that, it was often Pheobe or one of the clerics in training answering the questions that the others could not.
“Since some of you are not taking the lessons as seriously as you should, I expect you all ready to discuss the history of the Crystal Stave, including who retrieved it and the ramifications of its destruction should it had come to pass.”
Pheobe heard the various groans around her, then the chattering as the priestess left them to study. She had an hour before she was due for training, just enough time to take some quick notes so she could be ready for tomorrow’s lesson. Many of the other students began to talk as soon as the priestess left, discussing parties, fashion and other persuits of the teenaged mind. Pheobe ignored most of it. Until she saw one of the clerics in training nearly reduced to tears by the words of a rich merchant’s daughter who was teasing the priestess-to-be regarding her robes and her upcoming period of seclusion.
Collette, the merchant’s daughter, was the reigning beauty of the class. Golden blonde hair complimented jade green eyes, her budding fourteen year old body always clad in the newest fashions. Yet, she had the scholastic aptitude of a turnip and seemed to greatly resent those destined to be one of the Dreamweaver’s own.
Pheobe’s calm and rarely heard voice cut through the snide laughter. “Some are destined for greater things than dinner parties and whom wishes to be joined with whom.”
Collette turned on her stange classmate, a malicous light in her green eyes. “Ahhhhh words of wisdom said by girls who know that they will never be invited to said dinner parties or...have a male interested in joining with them for that matter.” A few of her friends giggled nervously as their hero moved to stand in front of the class know-it-all.
Pheobe squared her shoulders at the barb, glancing only once at the priestess-to-be who looked relieved to no longer be the target of the moment. Collette sensed that her barb had struck and pressed on. “It is well known, Pheobe...no man will have you as a wife. A man wishes to know where the mother of his children comes from. You have no idea who your parents are. Why...your mother could have been a whore...or your father a highway man for all you know. What respectable male would take one such as you as a wife?”
There was more laughter, but the rage or tears that they were expecting from their target were missing. Pheobe instead calmly gathered her books together then looked at Collette. “Some of us have a higher calling than being a man’s broodmare. You are right, it is highly unlikely that a male will seek my hand in marriage. But then, few men would be willing to take a wife who’s duty will be to Nuarari first. So...you win, Collette. You may have all the male attention you wish and revel in your popularity, I wish you joy of it.”
The fourteen year old Pheobe got up and walked away, her shoulders squared, her head held with pride. She did not see the grateful look of the aspiring priestess or see the admiring gaze of some of the youths who also attended class. She did not let herself hear the mocking laughter .And no one saw the pain in her own golden eyes.
She had been given the day off from lessons, most expecting the child to play and be a child. Instead the twelve year old girl was roaming the farmlands, gathering herbs and talking with animals when her father found her. He watched her for a moment, his eyes pensive.
In spite all of his efforts, Pheobe remained a rather solitary figure. She made few friends her own age, spending most of her free time with the elder Moonblades and priestesses. Catronia once declared that she believed Pheobe to be born in the wrong age. Reginald did not know if that was certain, but did see that his squire Blaine was the closest friend Pheobe had to her own age, and that young man was eight years older than she.
“You are late, little warrior.” She looked up at his voice, a fox cub in her lap. “I am sorry, father...I had to help free this little guy...but I do not think his mother is still around.” Her eyes became almost pleading.
“Pheobe...no wild animals in the temple...and his mother is a few feet behind you waiting for him.” He bit back a smile as she looked behind her, her eyes shifted back and forth a bit and she placed the fox down to scamper to its mother. It was only then she noticed the box held in his hand.
He came to crouch down next to her, a large man in armor next to a child that was a bit too skinny for her age and coltish. He placed the box upon her lap and waited for her to open it. The box was long, not quite flat, not bulky, but heavy. She tilted her head as she slowly opened the lid, then her eyes went wide with stunned delight. Within lay a longsword, similar to what Reginald tended to wield himself, though made for a smaller hand. She reverently picked up the hilt, wise eyes noticing subtle differences. It was a sword designed to train and teach, a weapon...yes, but one still designed more for sparring than war. She could see the runes of the Dreamweaver inscribed along the blade, the decoration on the pommel that turned it into a work of art as well as a tool for training. She knew in an instant that her father had the blade special made for her, taking as much care with this training blade as most warriors would with a true weapon.
“Does this mean…?” Her words trailed off, her voice trembling as she slowly realized that one of her greatest dreams may be within reach. He could hear the excitement and hope in her voice and he placed his arm around her shoulders.
“It means you begin training with Blaine and I tomorrow after lessons. It will be hard work, little warrior, and you are not allowed to slack on your studies. A Moonblade must train with her mind as well as her body. The goddess has blessed you with many gifts, I will not allow you to neglect one for the others.”
His hand squeezed her shoulder. gently. “Mornings will be spent in class learning your history and theology. Afternoons will be spent in drills with Blaine or myself. Evenings will be spent in study.” For a moment, he wondered if he would be driving the girl too hard, placing too much upon her slender shoulders. But she just smiled, looking at him as if he had just given her the world.
--------------------
Pheobe was aware of the hostile eyes on her as she again answered one of the priestess’ questions. She attended lessons with some who were training to be clerics, but also with the children of worshippers who’s parents wished them to recieve a further education. Many of these students were not as serious minded, and because of that, it was often Pheobe or one of the clerics in training answering the questions that the others could not.
“Since some of you are not taking the lessons as seriously as you should, I expect you all ready to discuss the history of the Crystal Stave, including who retrieved it and the ramifications of its destruction should it had come to pass.”
Pheobe heard the various groans around her, then the chattering as the priestess left them to study. She had an hour before she was due for training, just enough time to take some quick notes so she could be ready for tomorrow’s lesson. Many of the other students began to talk as soon as the priestess left, discussing parties, fashion and other persuits of the teenaged mind. Pheobe ignored most of it. Until she saw one of the clerics in training nearly reduced to tears by the words of a rich merchant’s daughter who was teasing the priestess-to-be regarding her robes and her upcoming period of seclusion.
Collette, the merchant’s daughter, was the reigning beauty of the class. Golden blonde hair complimented jade green eyes, her budding fourteen year old body always clad in the newest fashions. Yet, she had the scholastic aptitude of a turnip and seemed to greatly resent those destined to be one of the Dreamweaver’s own.
Pheobe’s calm and rarely heard voice cut through the snide laughter. “Some are destined for greater things than dinner parties and whom wishes to be joined with whom.”
Collette turned on her stange classmate, a malicous light in her green eyes. “Ahhhhh words of wisdom said by girls who know that they will never be invited to said dinner parties or...have a male interested in joining with them for that matter.” A few of her friends giggled nervously as their hero moved to stand in front of the class know-it-all.
Pheobe squared her shoulders at the barb, glancing only once at the priestess-to-be who looked relieved to no longer be the target of the moment. Collette sensed that her barb had struck and pressed on. “It is well known, Pheobe...no man will have you as a wife. A man wishes to know where the mother of his children comes from. You have no idea who your parents are. Why...your mother could have been a whore...or your father a highway man for all you know. What respectable male would take one such as you as a wife?”
There was more laughter, but the rage or tears that they were expecting from their target were missing. Pheobe instead calmly gathered her books together then looked at Collette. “Some of us have a higher calling than being a man’s broodmare. You are right, it is highly unlikely that a male will seek my hand in marriage. But then, few men would be willing to take a wife who’s duty will be to Nuarari first. So...you win, Collette. You may have all the male attention you wish and revel in your popularity, I wish you joy of it.”
The fourteen year old Pheobe got up and walked away, her shoulders squared, her head held with pride. She did not see the grateful look of the aspiring priestess or see the admiring gaze of some of the youths who also attended class. She did not let herself hear the mocking laughter .And no one saw the pain in her own golden eyes.
.-------------------
Reina Lianacia Mellan, Musae Magister of the Ordo Magica
Tahl'Nae Rhaz
Cynthia Ashallows , Moonsinger
Yaassima
Isabella Quick
Reina Lianacia Mellan, Musae Magister of the Ordo Magica
Tahl'Nae Rhaz
Cynthia Ashallows , Moonsinger
Yaassima
Isabella Quick
-
baby1111007
- Dragon Rider
- Posts: 878
- Joined: Fri Sep 22, 2006 9:33 pm
- Location: cooking up a storm in the kitchens
Re: The Moon-born
“Blade up, Pheobe.” Blaine’s own blade struck hers with enough force that had her whole arm going numb. The sixteen year old Pheobe was strong, but she was no where near a match for her father’s student. And yet, Blaine never held back, instead forcing her to find ways to counter his raw strength with speed and cunning. And all the while he was drilling her with verbal lessons.
Reginald watched the two young ones with unmistakable pride as they sparred, never showing one favor over the other. Occasionally he would correct a stance or give encouragement, but he let Blaine lead the lesson as part of his own training.
“Best way to destroy a zombie.” The young man made an aggressive feint then slapped the girl across her buttocks with the flat of his blade when she dodged the wrong way.
“Fire” Pheobe blew hair out of her eyes. “Zombies will continue to attack, even if you behead them, use of fire insures that the remains will be laid fully to rest.” Her golden eyes blazed with determination as she ducked his next strike.
“Skeletons” Blaine’s voice showed no strain at all, not even a hint of weakness as his brutal drill continued. His blade work was always impressive, but he was teaching the girl all that he knew while encouraging her to find her own stance. She was quicker than he was, and a bit more canny.
“Switch from blade to mace or morning-star, crush the bones.” She made a counter attack that had him taking steps back, her long blade finding openings in spite of his own longer reach.
“Good, girl...keep it up.” He went for another aggressive attack, a bit of pride showing in his eyes as she stopped trying to meet his superior strength and instead gave way while looking for chances to press her own advantage. “Vampires…”
Pheobe was becoming winded, sweat showing on her brow as she battled her more skilled opponent. “Stake through the heart and a beheading can usually work, however …” She had to pause as their blade work grew intense. “Fire can also be used...burn the corpse, scatter the ashes.”
Blaine nodded at her answers and pressed forward, driving the smaller female form back. “And a lich?”
She knew that she was now losing, but she fought on determinedly. Her sword arm was aching from the fight, and her shield arm throbbed from taking too many blows. “Find the container that houses the soul and destroy that...that is the only way to truly defeat the evil.” And with that last answer, Blaine’s foot swept out and took her own feet out from under her.
Pheobe landed with a hard crash of metal, looking up at the male she thought of as brother in surprise. And the look on her face made Blaine laugh as he placed his blade at her throat. “I win, little warrior…and to stop your protests before they begin…” He offered her a hand up. “No, I do not expect you to use such tactics, we fight with honor...but just because we will follow certain rules of engagement does not mean that your enemies will. You have to learn how to counter such tricks in battle and the only way to teach you how to counter dirty fighting is for you to experience it.”
Reginald watched the two, a thoughtful expression on his face as Pheobe took the offered hand and allowed Blaine to help her up. Things would be getting serious for his two charges, Blaine was soon to be promoted and Pheobe was growing up. He would not be able to shield her forever. But between himself and Blaine, she would be well prepared to face the coming evils.
-----------------------
Pheobe stared out over the water, watching as the port of Cear faded in the distance. She shed no tears, she made no protests, but misery hung over her like a cloud. Blaine could see the dejection in the set of her shoulders and in her stance. Reginald’s decision to send Pheobe along with him on his quest made sense. Pheobe needed to learn to stand without Reginald’s watchful gaze. But Pheobe was not taking it well. A mission to Cuhanna at this moment seemed more a punishment than an adventure.
Pheobe didn’t turn to look as a hand fell upon her shoulder, instinctively knowing Blaine had come to offer comfort. “I have never been far from Cear and this desert land does not sound very welcoming.” Her voice was so young and slightly sulky.
“You read the books then, good girl.” Blaine started out by teasing. This was his first major mission as a ranked Moonblade. He would be second in command and Pheobe was serving as his apprentice. "It is only for a few months, little warrior...and it is good experience for you.” He tugged her braid gently. “Why are you not more excited?”
Pheobe shrugged. “Father will not have anyone to watch over him.”
Blaine cursed softly to himself. He had told his mentor that Pheobe was far to perceptive for her own good. “Your father will have a whole temple of priestesses to watch over him…”
“Only if he tells them he is ailing.”
Blaine moved to her side as they both watched the moon before he responded. “Pheobe, he did not want to send you away, but he is getting older and he will not be with us forever. And you cannot restrict your training to be his nurse, he does not wish that.”
“I know...but we could be gone for over a year...I have never been away from Father that long…” She looked at the man she viewed as a brother. “Doesn’t it bother you? leaving your Rosie behind?”
Blaine grinned as he thought about the girl he was to wed. “We knew that there would be missions like this...she is a good lass, she will wait and finish her own training while planning the wedding. She still wants to match you with her brother.” He hid his smile and waited for the explosion.
“Damn it, Blaine...the man pouted when I beat him in a duel. I have no interest in him...or anyone else.” Her golden eyes grew troubled and he saw that pride stiffen her shoulders.
“Little warrior, one day you will meet someone who will see beyond the circumstances of your birth and see what a wonderful woman you are becoming. He will not mind that you fight better than most men or have a stubborn sense of honor that could drive lesser men mad. But until then, there is no harm in enjoying yourself a little. A dance with a young man is not a crime.”
Pheobe snorted. She had never danced with anyone, never had a flirtation. She did not know how and she knew it confused Blaine’s Rosie. She then sighed. “I will wear the dress Rosie picked out for your wedding, Blaine...and I will smile and be polite. But, if her brother makes a pest of himself I may send him head first into an ale barrel.”
Blaine laughed at the image and let his arm drape over her shoulder. “I may sell tickets. At least it will not be boring.” He then turned to face her, making her meet his eyes. “You will not be away from Cear forever….and this trip to Cuhanna will be good for you, little warrior. You need to see more of the world than just the Mother’s temple and Cear.”
The two Moonblades fell into a comfortable silence as the ship sailed them into uncharted waters into an uncertain future…
Reginald watched the two young ones with unmistakable pride as they sparred, never showing one favor over the other. Occasionally he would correct a stance or give encouragement, but he let Blaine lead the lesson as part of his own training.
“Best way to destroy a zombie.” The young man made an aggressive feint then slapped the girl across her buttocks with the flat of his blade when she dodged the wrong way.
“Fire” Pheobe blew hair out of her eyes. “Zombies will continue to attack, even if you behead them, use of fire insures that the remains will be laid fully to rest.” Her golden eyes blazed with determination as she ducked his next strike.
“Skeletons” Blaine’s voice showed no strain at all, not even a hint of weakness as his brutal drill continued. His blade work was always impressive, but he was teaching the girl all that he knew while encouraging her to find her own stance. She was quicker than he was, and a bit more canny.
“Switch from blade to mace or morning-star, crush the bones.” She made a counter attack that had him taking steps back, her long blade finding openings in spite of his own longer reach.
“Good, girl...keep it up.” He went for another aggressive attack, a bit of pride showing in his eyes as she stopped trying to meet his superior strength and instead gave way while looking for chances to press her own advantage. “Vampires…”
Pheobe was becoming winded, sweat showing on her brow as she battled her more skilled opponent. “Stake through the heart and a beheading can usually work, however …” She had to pause as their blade work grew intense. “Fire can also be used...burn the corpse, scatter the ashes.”
Blaine nodded at her answers and pressed forward, driving the smaller female form back. “And a lich?”
She knew that she was now losing, but she fought on determinedly. Her sword arm was aching from the fight, and her shield arm throbbed from taking too many blows. “Find the container that houses the soul and destroy that...that is the only way to truly defeat the evil.” And with that last answer, Blaine’s foot swept out and took her own feet out from under her.
Pheobe landed with a hard crash of metal, looking up at the male she thought of as brother in surprise. And the look on her face made Blaine laugh as he placed his blade at her throat. “I win, little warrior…and to stop your protests before they begin…” He offered her a hand up. “No, I do not expect you to use such tactics, we fight with honor...but just because we will follow certain rules of engagement does not mean that your enemies will. You have to learn how to counter such tricks in battle and the only way to teach you how to counter dirty fighting is for you to experience it.”
Reginald watched the two, a thoughtful expression on his face as Pheobe took the offered hand and allowed Blaine to help her up. Things would be getting serious for his two charges, Blaine was soon to be promoted and Pheobe was growing up. He would not be able to shield her forever. But between himself and Blaine, she would be well prepared to face the coming evils.
-----------------------
Pheobe stared out over the water, watching as the port of Cear faded in the distance. She shed no tears, she made no protests, but misery hung over her like a cloud. Blaine could see the dejection in the set of her shoulders and in her stance. Reginald’s decision to send Pheobe along with him on his quest made sense. Pheobe needed to learn to stand without Reginald’s watchful gaze. But Pheobe was not taking it well. A mission to Cuhanna at this moment seemed more a punishment than an adventure.
Pheobe didn’t turn to look as a hand fell upon her shoulder, instinctively knowing Blaine had come to offer comfort. “I have never been far from Cear and this desert land does not sound very welcoming.” Her voice was so young and slightly sulky.
“You read the books then, good girl.” Blaine started out by teasing. This was his first major mission as a ranked Moonblade. He would be second in command and Pheobe was serving as his apprentice. "It is only for a few months, little warrior...and it is good experience for you.” He tugged her braid gently. “Why are you not more excited?”
Pheobe shrugged. “Father will not have anyone to watch over him.”
Blaine cursed softly to himself. He had told his mentor that Pheobe was far to perceptive for her own good. “Your father will have a whole temple of priestesses to watch over him…”
“Only if he tells them he is ailing.”
Blaine moved to her side as they both watched the moon before he responded. “Pheobe, he did not want to send you away, but he is getting older and he will not be with us forever. And you cannot restrict your training to be his nurse, he does not wish that.”
“I know...but we could be gone for over a year...I have never been away from Father that long…” She looked at the man she viewed as a brother. “Doesn’t it bother you? leaving your Rosie behind?”
Blaine grinned as he thought about the girl he was to wed. “We knew that there would be missions like this...she is a good lass, she will wait and finish her own training while planning the wedding. She still wants to match you with her brother.” He hid his smile and waited for the explosion.
“Damn it, Blaine...the man pouted when I beat him in a duel. I have no interest in him...or anyone else.” Her golden eyes grew troubled and he saw that pride stiffen her shoulders.
“Little warrior, one day you will meet someone who will see beyond the circumstances of your birth and see what a wonderful woman you are becoming. He will not mind that you fight better than most men or have a stubborn sense of honor that could drive lesser men mad. But until then, there is no harm in enjoying yourself a little. A dance with a young man is not a crime.”
Pheobe snorted. She had never danced with anyone, never had a flirtation. She did not know how and she knew it confused Blaine’s Rosie. She then sighed. “I will wear the dress Rosie picked out for your wedding, Blaine...and I will smile and be polite. But, if her brother makes a pest of himself I may send him head first into an ale barrel.”
Blaine laughed at the image and let his arm drape over her shoulder. “I may sell tickets. At least it will not be boring.” He then turned to face her, making her meet his eyes. “You will not be away from Cear forever….and this trip to Cuhanna will be good for you, little warrior. You need to see more of the world than just the Mother’s temple and Cear.”
The two Moonblades fell into a comfortable silence as the ship sailed them into uncharted waters into an uncertain future…
.-------------------
Reina Lianacia Mellan, Musae Magister of the Ordo Magica
Tahl'Nae Rhaz
Cynthia Ashallows , Moonsinger
Yaassima
Isabella Quick
Reina Lianacia Mellan, Musae Magister of the Ordo Magica
Tahl'Nae Rhaz
Cynthia Ashallows , Moonsinger
Yaassima
Isabella Quick
-
baby1111007
- Dragon Rider
- Posts: 878
- Joined: Fri Sep 22, 2006 9:33 pm
- Location: cooking up a storm in the kitchens
Re: The Moon-born
Homecoming
Ocean breezes caused strands of midnight hair to tickle her face, her profile pensive as she stared up that the night sky. The moon bathed her in a silvery light. The sailors had grown used to the sight of the young woman in armor, haunting their decks at night. Always so serious and dreamy, polite but not friendly, most of the men did not know what to make of her. And they were kept from approaching by the presence of the other two males who watched over her, one rumored to be a knight, the other definitely showing the protectiveness of kin.
It had been over a year since they had left Cear. During this time there had been triumphs and losses. Each loss of a companion seemed to weigh heavy upon her shoulders. If she had been more aware, if she had been more seasoned, if she had been more careful...if she had not been distracted. If...if...if…she could lose herself in the “what ifs”. So many losses, such potential now wasted.
A handsome face and a boyish smile drifted through her thoughts, but was quickly replaced by another. One that was coldly handsome, cruel but also wickedly compelling. For a moment she could feel the unnatural strength of his arms holding her captive, his cold lips against her ear and hear his whispered threat. “I will return for you, moonchild.” She shook her head, banishing the scene from her mind, trying to shake the feelings of failure and weakness.
Pheobe sighed softly, keeping the tears at bay while watching the moon and stars. And as if her sigh summoned him, Blaine joined her at the rails, leaning against them as he turned to watch her. She could see the worry in his eyes, the careful way he approached. He had been this way since he had almost lost her to one of the many foes they had faced, the evil one who now haunted her at odd moments. She knew that he was troubled and why, but she had no words to give him to take away his disquiet.
Blaine spoke softly, his tone far more gentle than he normally used with her. “Pheobe, you should speak of it...you cannot keep everything hidden inside.” Almost every time he saw her now, his mind flashed back to that moment, seeing his sister in danger and the feeling of impotence that had paralyzed him. That particular enemy had eluded them and that worried him more than anything for he now feared for his foster sister.
“I am fine, Blaine...really, I am. Mistakes were made, lessons were learned…” Her voice was soft, serene...only one who knew her well would even notice the suppressed emotion beneath the surface.
“Damn it, little warrior...you do not think I know by now when you are troubled? Can’t you just talk to me or do you blame me for what happened?” There was frustration in his voice and guilt.
“Blame...you? Blaine, you were not the one distracted, I was. You did not get used as a shield by an enemy...I did. And…” This is where her voice broke before she looked away. “He said I was blooded...a blessed one...what did he mean, Blaine? Why did he seem so intent to take me with him after?”
“I am not sure, Pheobe…but do not dwell on it. Our mission is over, we are going home and leaving that cursed place behind us.” He too had been shaken by what happened and could not wait to seek Reginald’s counsel, but for now, his only concern was making sure his sister was at ease.
“Pheobe, all was so hectic...I did not question then...but what had you so distracted? You had not been yourself since you saved the…” Blaine’s words ceased and he really looked at his sister, noticing the flush on her cheeks and the way she shyly lowered her gaze, lashes shielding her golden eyes. “The knight…”
“Blaine...do not tease. I...like him is all...he is different.” She did not meet her brother’s gaze.
Blaine became pensive, standing next to the female he thought of as his little sister. He could not deny that females would find the knight handsome. But the man was also honorable, a capable fighter and leader though he still needed seasoning. He could see why such a man would appeal to Pheobe. “So…is it time for those lessons in flirting Rosie offered you?”
Her reaction surprised him as she just shook her head sadly. “No...I have decided to take the vows in a few years, dedicate myself to the temple.”
“Pheobe, are you mad? You finally meet a man that you have an...attraction for and your choice is to seek a path of chastity? One that is not even required?” The Moonblade’s voice was now full of frustration as he made his sister look at him.
“One such is he is not for the likes of me. He deserves better than I could give...and I said I noticed him, I did not say he noticed me. And you cannot tell him. I do not want his pity.” Her eyes showed a resignation and that stubborn pride, yet he could hear the pleading in her voice. He had heard the taunts directed her way in the past and knew that while she was confident in her abilities as a warrior, she was far less confident in her appeal as a female.
Blaine opened his mouth then closed it. He was not so certain that Pheobe saw what he had seen. He had seen the knight’s gaze upon his sister more than once during the trip, though he could not be certain if the interest there was attraction or respect. And he would not offer Pheobe false words of hope. She would not take the vows for at least a few years, the temple always made certain that a person was truly committed to such. If what he suspected was true, well...perhaps given enough time, his sister would stop letting the circumstances of her birth drive her to self imposed solitude.
Luckily he was distracted from his thoughts by pinpoints of light in the distance. “Well, little warrior, we are soon home…”
Ocean breezes caused strands of midnight hair to tickle her face, her profile pensive as she stared up that the night sky. The moon bathed her in a silvery light. The sailors had grown used to the sight of the young woman in armor, haunting their decks at night. Always so serious and dreamy, polite but not friendly, most of the men did not know what to make of her. And they were kept from approaching by the presence of the other two males who watched over her, one rumored to be a knight, the other definitely showing the protectiveness of kin.
It had been over a year since they had left Cear. During this time there had been triumphs and losses. Each loss of a companion seemed to weigh heavy upon her shoulders. If she had been more aware, if she had been more seasoned, if she had been more careful...if she had not been distracted. If...if...if…she could lose herself in the “what ifs”. So many losses, such potential now wasted.
A handsome face and a boyish smile drifted through her thoughts, but was quickly replaced by another. One that was coldly handsome, cruel but also wickedly compelling. For a moment she could feel the unnatural strength of his arms holding her captive, his cold lips against her ear and hear his whispered threat. “I will return for you, moonchild.” She shook her head, banishing the scene from her mind, trying to shake the feelings of failure and weakness.
Pheobe sighed softly, keeping the tears at bay while watching the moon and stars. And as if her sigh summoned him, Blaine joined her at the rails, leaning against them as he turned to watch her. She could see the worry in his eyes, the careful way he approached. He had been this way since he had almost lost her to one of the many foes they had faced, the evil one who now haunted her at odd moments. She knew that he was troubled and why, but she had no words to give him to take away his disquiet.
Blaine spoke softly, his tone far more gentle than he normally used with her. “Pheobe, you should speak of it...you cannot keep everything hidden inside.” Almost every time he saw her now, his mind flashed back to that moment, seeing his sister in danger and the feeling of impotence that had paralyzed him. That particular enemy had eluded them and that worried him more than anything for he now feared for his foster sister.
“I am fine, Blaine...really, I am. Mistakes were made, lessons were learned…” Her voice was soft, serene...only one who knew her well would even notice the suppressed emotion beneath the surface.
“Damn it, little warrior...you do not think I know by now when you are troubled? Can’t you just talk to me or do you blame me for what happened?” There was frustration in his voice and guilt.
“Blame...you? Blaine, you were not the one distracted, I was. You did not get used as a shield by an enemy...I did. And…” This is where her voice broke before she looked away. “He said I was blooded...a blessed one...what did he mean, Blaine? Why did he seem so intent to take me with him after?”
“I am not sure, Pheobe…but do not dwell on it. Our mission is over, we are going home and leaving that cursed place behind us.” He too had been shaken by what happened and could not wait to seek Reginald’s counsel, but for now, his only concern was making sure his sister was at ease.
“Pheobe, all was so hectic...I did not question then...but what had you so distracted? You had not been yourself since you saved the…” Blaine’s words ceased and he really looked at his sister, noticing the flush on her cheeks and the way she shyly lowered her gaze, lashes shielding her golden eyes. “The knight…”
“Blaine...do not tease. I...like him is all...he is different.” She did not meet her brother’s gaze.
Blaine became pensive, standing next to the female he thought of as his little sister. He could not deny that females would find the knight handsome. But the man was also honorable, a capable fighter and leader though he still needed seasoning. He could see why such a man would appeal to Pheobe. “So…is it time for those lessons in flirting Rosie offered you?”
Her reaction surprised him as she just shook her head sadly. “No...I have decided to take the vows in a few years, dedicate myself to the temple.”
“Pheobe, are you mad? You finally meet a man that you have an...attraction for and your choice is to seek a path of chastity? One that is not even required?” The Moonblade’s voice was now full of frustration as he made his sister look at him.
“One such is he is not for the likes of me. He deserves better than I could give...and I said I noticed him, I did not say he noticed me. And you cannot tell him. I do not want his pity.” Her eyes showed a resignation and that stubborn pride, yet he could hear the pleading in her voice. He had heard the taunts directed her way in the past and knew that while she was confident in her abilities as a warrior, she was far less confident in her appeal as a female.
Blaine opened his mouth then closed it. He was not so certain that Pheobe saw what he had seen. He had seen the knight’s gaze upon his sister more than once during the trip, though he could not be certain if the interest there was attraction or respect. And he would not offer Pheobe false words of hope. She would not take the vows for at least a few years, the temple always made certain that a person was truly committed to such. If what he suspected was true, well...perhaps given enough time, his sister would stop letting the circumstances of her birth drive her to self imposed solitude.
Luckily he was distracted from his thoughts by pinpoints of light in the distance. “Well, little warrior, we are soon home…”
.-------------------
Reina Lianacia Mellan, Musae Magister of the Ordo Magica
Tahl'Nae Rhaz
Cynthia Ashallows , Moonsinger
Yaassima
Isabella Quick
Reina Lianacia Mellan, Musae Magister of the Ordo Magica
Tahl'Nae Rhaz
Cynthia Ashallows , Moonsinger
Yaassima
Isabella Quick