Post by SpectralDragon on Jul 16, 2004 14:36:14 GMT
Ayraethiel's eyes drifted along the wall where it connected to the celing. 168 bricks in the far wall, she knew the number well, and had already checked three times today. The book, the same one she had been given for months lay open in front of her, the dull featureless walls in the windowless room being marginally more interesting. So many years spent in this featureless empty room, with a book she was never going to read. It was not that she hadn't tried at first, but she realized it was futile. It might even have been a different book, but they were pretty much all the same. How many years had she been locked in this room during most of her waking hours... it did not bear thinking about. Her parents said that she had the arcane spark in her blood and she would be kept in this room until she ignited it into a fire.
There had been various tutors over the years, but Aryae seemed almost obstinate in her lack of progress and one after another, they had eventually given up on her. The only one she had liked had been a nearly ancient elf, Berenil Asrath'morin who had told her stories of his adventures and how his arcane learning had served him. For him she learned a few spells, he taught her some of the spells from his early adventures, stopping in the midst of a tale to teach her just the spell he'd used. But when he told her parents that perhaps they should not be forcing her so harshly along a path she did not wish to go, they dismissed him for questioning their judgement. That was several years ago and had been the last time she even tried to learn magic.
What she was really doing now was listening for the click of the latch meaning that her mother had gone into her study. It seemed like close to an hour passed, then finally, a barely audible "click." Ayraethiel got up from her chair and pulled a pin from her hair, at last her day would begin. This lock was simple, the one to the courtyard was much more difficult.... and getting it relocked again had often sent her into a near panic as she had heard her parents stirring in the past.
Ayraethiel slipped out of the room, moving quietly along the walls, down to the exterior door, and into the garden courtyard. She smiled, feeling the sun on her face and her step became more bouncy the farther she wandered into the garden. When she got to the far wall, she pulled up a wooden bench to reveal a wooden crate. From it she pulled a cloak and some inexpensive clothes and changed, then carefully folded her ornate dress, and dropped it into the crate.
She found a foothold and climbed up the wall quietly dropping down into the road, "no dedication," her parents said, they just picked the wrong craft for her, she thought to herself as she headed up the road into the city hub. Brisith was waiting for her. From the moment they had met years ago, she knew he looked like trouble and so she had liked him immediately. Over the past couple of years he had become her mentor in the roguish arts and her best friend. He gave her a wry grin, "So her highness had a few extra hours of study this morning did she?"
Ayrae chuckled and lightly elbowed him in the ribs, "I told you, Its m'lady, not her highness."
"Right, right," he said with an imitation of a formal bow, "it's m'lady, as her highness wishes."
She laughed and ruffled his hair, "So let's get to whatever we're doing today. I need some entertainment."
Brisith began to tell her of his plans as they turned together and walked further into the hub.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was later than normal when Ayrae climbed the wall back into the garden, and after changing she took off for the house at a run, only to have her mother standing behind the door from the courtyard into the house, when she opened it. Ayrae cringed at the tonguelashing she knew was coming.
Her mother's eyes were dark with anger, "Where have you been, you ungrateful little tramp?"
Ayrae's heart was pounding, "I... I was just in the garden."
"No, you weren't. Your father saw you downtown today with some street trash. You are a liar and a disgrace to our family name."
"If you would just let me--" Aryae began.
"Quiet! I will not even listen to this. Your father will deal with you. Go to your room." she glanced down at the hairpin in Ayrae's hand that she had used to pick the lock, and roughly pulled it from her hand and the rest of them from her hair, then shoved her down the hall.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A couple of hours later, her father opened the door and entered her bedroom. She didn't look up from the book she had on her lap.
"Ayraethiel, I am so very disappointed in you. I do not know what drives you to such behavior. Your mother and I are both highly respected, we supply you with a life that would make most envious, and yet you defy us at every turn. And now, seeing you with that trash elf, I can only wonder how much damage you've done," he voice was bewiledered and almost kind, but his eyes shone dark with repressed rage.
She looked up at him, "Brisith is not trash! And as for damage, what kind are you looking for? Scared someone will see? Or do you think he has me every day when I leave here?"
"I swear to Corellon that if he has known you in that way, you will be cast out of this house tonight," her father's voice was low and dangerous.
Ayrae sighed deeply trying not to cry, "He's my friend, not my lover. We just--"
"Perhaps he's your friend right now. But his kind aren't friends with us. Its obvoius what he wants, and you will stay away from him. And since your word is worth nothing, I'll have the temple send over a priestess to verify the truth of your claims about maintaining your viriginity. If that is in tact, we will see where we go next." and with that, her father turned and slammed the door shut.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
After the priestess left, her father came back into the room, considerably calmer than when he had left it.
"So, no lasting damage done. At least you had that much sense. But you are out of chances. You are getting a new tutor, a noble and an archmage visiting for a few years from Eldamar. He has agreed to take you on as a student. You are very fortunate in this. It is a great opportunity, especially for one who has wasted everything given to her," her father said, a measured calm in his voice.
Aryae merely nodded, knowing better than to argue.
"And you will not be leaving the house, except for your tutoring, until further notice. Any more activities like today, and you will be cast out. Is that clear?"
Aryae nodded again, then began to cry at the thought of losing her only friend.
Her father took her tears as those of contrition, and softened a bit as he sat down next to her on the couch. "Just do well with this new tutor and everything will be fine," he said as he lightly stroked her hair.
There had been various tutors over the years, but Aryae seemed almost obstinate in her lack of progress and one after another, they had eventually given up on her. The only one she had liked had been a nearly ancient elf, Berenil Asrath'morin who had told her stories of his adventures and how his arcane learning had served him. For him she learned a few spells, he taught her some of the spells from his early adventures, stopping in the midst of a tale to teach her just the spell he'd used. But when he told her parents that perhaps they should not be forcing her so harshly along a path she did not wish to go, they dismissed him for questioning their judgement. That was several years ago and had been the last time she even tried to learn magic.
What she was really doing now was listening for the click of the latch meaning that her mother had gone into her study. It seemed like close to an hour passed, then finally, a barely audible "click." Ayraethiel got up from her chair and pulled a pin from her hair, at last her day would begin. This lock was simple, the one to the courtyard was much more difficult.... and getting it relocked again had often sent her into a near panic as she had heard her parents stirring in the past.
Ayraethiel slipped out of the room, moving quietly along the walls, down to the exterior door, and into the garden courtyard. She smiled, feeling the sun on her face and her step became more bouncy the farther she wandered into the garden. When she got to the far wall, she pulled up a wooden bench to reveal a wooden crate. From it she pulled a cloak and some inexpensive clothes and changed, then carefully folded her ornate dress, and dropped it into the crate.
She found a foothold and climbed up the wall quietly dropping down into the road, "no dedication," her parents said, they just picked the wrong craft for her, she thought to herself as she headed up the road into the city hub. Brisith was waiting for her. From the moment they had met years ago, she knew he looked like trouble and so she had liked him immediately. Over the past couple of years he had become her mentor in the roguish arts and her best friend. He gave her a wry grin, "So her highness had a few extra hours of study this morning did she?"
Ayrae chuckled and lightly elbowed him in the ribs, "I told you, Its m'lady, not her highness."
"Right, right," he said with an imitation of a formal bow, "it's m'lady, as her highness wishes."
She laughed and ruffled his hair, "So let's get to whatever we're doing today. I need some entertainment."
Brisith began to tell her of his plans as they turned together and walked further into the hub.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was later than normal when Ayrae climbed the wall back into the garden, and after changing she took off for the house at a run, only to have her mother standing behind the door from the courtyard into the house, when she opened it. Ayrae cringed at the tonguelashing she knew was coming.
Her mother's eyes were dark with anger, "Where have you been, you ungrateful little tramp?"
Ayrae's heart was pounding, "I... I was just in the garden."
"No, you weren't. Your father saw you downtown today with some street trash. You are a liar and a disgrace to our family name."
"If you would just let me--" Aryae began.
"Quiet! I will not even listen to this. Your father will deal with you. Go to your room." she glanced down at the hairpin in Ayrae's hand that she had used to pick the lock, and roughly pulled it from her hand and the rest of them from her hair, then shoved her down the hall.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A couple of hours later, her father opened the door and entered her bedroom. She didn't look up from the book she had on her lap.
"Ayraethiel, I am so very disappointed in you. I do not know what drives you to such behavior. Your mother and I are both highly respected, we supply you with a life that would make most envious, and yet you defy us at every turn. And now, seeing you with that trash elf, I can only wonder how much damage you've done," he voice was bewiledered and almost kind, but his eyes shone dark with repressed rage.
She looked up at him, "Brisith is not trash! And as for damage, what kind are you looking for? Scared someone will see? Or do you think he has me every day when I leave here?"
"I swear to Corellon that if he has known you in that way, you will be cast out of this house tonight," her father's voice was low and dangerous.
Ayrae sighed deeply trying not to cry, "He's my friend, not my lover. We just--"
"Perhaps he's your friend right now. But his kind aren't friends with us. Its obvoius what he wants, and you will stay away from him. And since your word is worth nothing, I'll have the temple send over a priestess to verify the truth of your claims about maintaining your viriginity. If that is in tact, we will see where we go next." and with that, her father turned and slammed the door shut.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
After the priestess left, her father came back into the room, considerably calmer than when he had left it.
"So, no lasting damage done. At least you had that much sense. But you are out of chances. You are getting a new tutor, a noble and an archmage visiting for a few years from Eldamar. He has agreed to take you on as a student. You are very fortunate in this. It is a great opportunity, especially for one who has wasted everything given to her," her father said, a measured calm in his voice.
Aryae merely nodded, knowing better than to argue.
"And you will not be leaving the house, except for your tutoring, until further notice. Any more activities like today, and you will be cast out. Is that clear?"
Aryae nodded again, then began to cry at the thought of losing her only friend.
Her father took her tears as those of contrition, and softened a bit as he sat down next to her on the couch. "Just do well with this new tutor and everything will be fine," he said as he lightly stroked her hair.
i actually enjoyed reading that.... i only hope mine is halfway decent when i get it finished...