Manifester: Secrets
first, a pronounciation guide.
hwitagaunge: WIT-a-GONE-jay (with a mild puff of air at the beginning)
Bi’njo: binn-JOE (i know the apostrophe isn't in the right place to make this sound, but that's how it's pronounced...the "n" sound is also held for a sec)
now for story.
Fenix sunk into a chair, holding his head. What was it with women and bickering? And couldn’t they choose not to in his room?
Tempyst stood in her Guard’s uniform, staring down the Princess. “I am a Personal Guard, not your Maidservant, Princess.”
Maloria straightened, coming only to Tempyst’s chin. “So you just stand there? What kind of Guard are you, then? You do as I say or--”
“I am the Fourth Prince’s Personal Guard. I answer only to him, or the Captain of the Guard.”
Fenix stifled a laugh. He knew that wasn’t true. Tempyst didn’t really answer to anybody.
Maloria’s silver eyes narrowed. “Fine. You will guard me as well.”
Fenix caught a glint of blue underneath Tempyst’s faceplate. “I am sorry, Princess, but I was only told to guard the Fourth Prince. It would be impossible to guard the both of you.”
Fenix covered his mouth. It would be bad manners to laugh at his future wife’s misfortune, but this argument was just too humorous.
The short, dark-haired Royal growled. “Then I suppose I shall have to get my own Guard. But not a male.” A grin crossed her lips. “I would not want you to be fooling around on duty.”
“Oh, I am not picky, Princess. When you are Placed as low as I am, you learn to get it where you can.”
Fenix snorted. How Tempyst was toying with Maloria while keeping a straight face, he couldn’t imagine.
She turned her hard, metallic eyes towards him. “And I suppose you find this amusing?”
He shook his head, fighting to keep from chuckling. He had to keep a straight face. He caught Tempyst mouthing something behind Maloria’s back.
“~Hwitagaunge~.”
He knew that was Archaic, he just couldn’t gather the complete meaning.
Maloria turned back to Tempyst. “What is your name?”
“tet’Drakin, Princess.”
“Well, you will do as I say, tet’Drakin, or I will have you transferred to the front lines. Is this understood?”
“Yes, Princess.” Her eyes narrowed. “~Bi’njo~.”
Fenix knew what that one meant. It was a term usually reserved for female breeding dogs. He stood and straightened his shirt, throwing a glare at Tempyst. “If you will excuse me, my Father wishes to speak to me.” --Please try not to kill each other.--
Tempyst watched as Fenix left. --Real clever leaving the two of us together.--
“So, you are the daughter of the Head Mage?”
“Yes, Princess.”
She walked over to Fenix’s dresser and began to smell the various oils. “So, what did your parents do wrong to cause you to be Placed a Warrior?” she pulled the stopper from one, sniffed it, grimaced, then replaced it. “It is clearly not your Father’s fault.” She picked up another one, this with a slight blue tinge. “So it must be your Mother. Clearly, your Scribe Mother’s bad blood--”
“You will not blacken my Mother’s name.” Tempyst felt a dagger form in her right hand. “She died during my birth.”
She put the oil down and stared at Tempyst’s reflection. “Ah, yes. Your Mother was the one raped by an Angel.”
Tempyst’s grip on the dagger tightened.
“You would think giving birth do your Brother would kill her. Now, was your Brother’s conception before, or after your parent’s marriage?”
Tempyst tried to steady herself. If she was going to kill Maloria, she had to make it look like an accident.
“Not that that would have mattered. There was another woman in your Father’s life, and your Sister was conceived not long after you were.”
“What are you attempting to get out of me, Maloria?” She should have used her title, but Maloria had already lost the little respect Tempyst had for her.
“Just the truth.” She turned the chair around, smoothing her skirt. “You see, one of your Clanmembers is the other Manifester. We have reason to believe that Manifester is in your very family. My Mother and I have Fenix under our thumbs.”
--A family of Nen’dori? Well, this is just great.-- “Your Mother?”
“Queen Carnifey, of course. People reveal their deepest secrets when making love.” The Princess walked over to her. “What secrets do you hide, tet’Drakin?”
Fenix entered the room “I hope you two are getting along?”
Maloria smiled at him. “Very well.”
--I really need to leave,-- Tempyst thought.
Two days had passed. Maloria was taking some getting used to. She seemed very interested in Tempyst for some reason. Perhaps she wanted to get to know the Guard who could so easily anger her.
Speaking of Tempyst, where was she?
“It seems your Guard has better places to be then at your side.”
Fenix turned to his future wife. “You know where she is?”
Maloria nodded, then kissed him. She looked up into his eyes.
“Would you care to tell me where she is?” he asked with a hint of annoyance.
“Her entire family has requested leave to return to the Solaris territories for a ceremony.”
--Ceremony?-- “Oh, her Sister’s marriage. Have they already left?”
“They are leaving as we speak. They are heading towards the Forest.”
Fenix broke the embrace and clamored up his bookshelf.
“What are you doing, Fenix?”
“How long did they request for?”
“A month. A week for the Ceremony and the other three to help settle.” He heard her move closer. “What are you doing?”
He paid no attention to her as he parted the curtains and looked out.
An’gelucis’s cart was loaded with travel necessities, an empty space just large enough for two people near the driver’s seat. Drakin sat beside his son, his travel cloak covering his violet Mage’s robes. Fenis and Yveris climbed into the cart, and their relations all mounted their horses.
A figure caught Fenix’s eye. White headwrap, large hoop earrings, a short-sleeved shirt and a full skirt. Everything was white. The figure pulled on a red travel cloak and mounted, looking back at the palace.
Those features were unmistakable. “Tempyst.”
She gazed back, sighed, then pulled her hood up.
They all started toward the Lynidae Forest.
Fenix closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the window. --I will prove to you how I feel.--
“I wish I could see my Brother’s marriage, but I do not enjoy the Solaris.”
Fenix turned and sat on the windowsill. “Your Brother?”
“Yes. Yveris.”
“But he is of Torrehnt--”
“And I am of Debin.” She climbed and sat beside him. “And my Mother is of N’Gebis. Clans do not much matter to us.” She kissed him.
“And who is ‘us’?”
“My family.” There was something odd about her look that Fenix couldn’t place. “Shall we have some fun before she returns?”
--We’re not even married yet, and she already wants to…maybe that’s what ~hwitagaunge~ means. Whore,-- he thought, translating the word into its vulgar form. “Not tonight. Perhaps later.”
hwitagaunge: WIT-a-GONE-jay (with a mild puff of air at the beginning)
Bi’njo: binn-JOE (i know the apostrophe isn't in the right place to make this sound, but that's how it's pronounced...the "n" sound is also held for a sec)
now for story.
Fenix sunk into a chair, holding his head. What was it with women and bickering? And couldn’t they choose not to in his room?
Tempyst stood in her Guard’s uniform, staring down the Princess. “I am a Personal Guard, not your Maidservant, Princess.”
Maloria straightened, coming only to Tempyst’s chin. “So you just stand there? What kind of Guard are you, then? You do as I say or--”
“I am the Fourth Prince’s Personal Guard. I answer only to him, or the Captain of the Guard.”
Fenix stifled a laugh. He knew that wasn’t true. Tempyst didn’t really answer to anybody.
Maloria’s silver eyes narrowed. “Fine. You will guard me as well.”
Fenix caught a glint of blue underneath Tempyst’s faceplate. “I am sorry, Princess, but I was only told to guard the Fourth Prince. It would be impossible to guard the both of you.”
Fenix covered his mouth. It would be bad manners to laugh at his future wife’s misfortune, but this argument was just too humorous.
The short, dark-haired Royal growled. “Then I suppose I shall have to get my own Guard. But not a male.” A grin crossed her lips. “I would not want you to be fooling around on duty.”
“Oh, I am not picky, Princess. When you are Placed as low as I am, you learn to get it where you can.”
Fenix snorted. How Tempyst was toying with Maloria while keeping a straight face, he couldn’t imagine.
She turned her hard, metallic eyes towards him. “And I suppose you find this amusing?”
He shook his head, fighting to keep from chuckling. He had to keep a straight face. He caught Tempyst mouthing something behind Maloria’s back.
“~Hwitagaunge~.”
He knew that was Archaic, he just couldn’t gather the complete meaning.
Maloria turned back to Tempyst. “What is your name?”
“tet’Drakin, Princess.”
“Well, you will do as I say, tet’Drakin, or I will have you transferred to the front lines. Is this understood?”
“Yes, Princess.” Her eyes narrowed. “~Bi’njo~.”
Fenix knew what that one meant. It was a term usually reserved for female breeding dogs. He stood and straightened his shirt, throwing a glare at Tempyst. “If you will excuse me, my Father wishes to speak to me.” --Please try not to kill each other.--
Tempyst watched as Fenix left. --Real clever leaving the two of us together.--
“So, you are the daughter of the Head Mage?”
“Yes, Princess.”
She walked over to Fenix’s dresser and began to smell the various oils. “So, what did your parents do wrong to cause you to be Placed a Warrior?” she pulled the stopper from one, sniffed it, grimaced, then replaced it. “It is clearly not your Father’s fault.” She picked up another one, this with a slight blue tinge. “So it must be your Mother. Clearly, your Scribe Mother’s bad blood--”
“You will not blacken my Mother’s name.” Tempyst felt a dagger form in her right hand. “She died during my birth.”
She put the oil down and stared at Tempyst’s reflection. “Ah, yes. Your Mother was the one raped by an Angel.”
Tempyst’s grip on the dagger tightened.
“You would think giving birth do your Brother would kill her. Now, was your Brother’s conception before, or after your parent’s marriage?”
Tempyst tried to steady herself. If she was going to kill Maloria, she had to make it look like an accident.
“Not that that would have mattered. There was another woman in your Father’s life, and your Sister was conceived not long after you were.”
“What are you attempting to get out of me, Maloria?” She should have used her title, but Maloria had already lost the little respect Tempyst had for her.
“Just the truth.” She turned the chair around, smoothing her skirt. “You see, one of your Clanmembers is the other Manifester. We have reason to believe that Manifester is in your very family. My Mother and I have Fenix under our thumbs.”
--A family of Nen’dori? Well, this is just great.-- “Your Mother?”
“Queen Carnifey, of course. People reveal their deepest secrets when making love.” The Princess walked over to her. “What secrets do you hide, tet’Drakin?”
Fenix entered the room “I hope you two are getting along?”
Maloria smiled at him. “Very well.”
--I really need to leave,-- Tempyst thought.
Two days had passed. Maloria was taking some getting used to. She seemed very interested in Tempyst for some reason. Perhaps she wanted to get to know the Guard who could so easily anger her.
Speaking of Tempyst, where was she?
“It seems your Guard has better places to be then at your side.”
Fenix turned to his future wife. “You know where she is?”
Maloria nodded, then kissed him. She looked up into his eyes.
“Would you care to tell me where she is?” he asked with a hint of annoyance.
“Her entire family has requested leave to return to the Solaris territories for a ceremony.”
--Ceremony?-- “Oh, her Sister’s marriage. Have they already left?”
“They are leaving as we speak. They are heading towards the Forest.”
Fenix broke the embrace and clamored up his bookshelf.
“What are you doing, Fenix?”
“How long did they request for?”
“A month. A week for the Ceremony and the other three to help settle.” He heard her move closer. “What are you doing?”
He paid no attention to her as he parted the curtains and looked out.
An’gelucis’s cart was loaded with travel necessities, an empty space just large enough for two people near the driver’s seat. Drakin sat beside his son, his travel cloak covering his violet Mage’s robes. Fenis and Yveris climbed into the cart, and their relations all mounted their horses.
A figure caught Fenix’s eye. White headwrap, large hoop earrings, a short-sleeved shirt and a full skirt. Everything was white. The figure pulled on a red travel cloak and mounted, looking back at the palace.
Those features were unmistakable. “Tempyst.”
She gazed back, sighed, then pulled her hood up.
They all started toward the Lynidae Forest.
Fenix closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the window. --I will prove to you how I feel.--
“I wish I could see my Brother’s marriage, but I do not enjoy the Solaris.”
Fenix turned and sat on the windowsill. “Your Brother?”
“Yes. Yveris.”
“But he is of Torrehnt--”
“And I am of Debin.” She climbed and sat beside him. “And my Mother is of N’Gebis. Clans do not much matter to us.” She kissed him.
“And who is ‘us’?”
“My family.” There was something odd about her look that Fenix couldn’t place. “Shall we have some fun before she returns?”
--We’re not even married yet, and she already wants to…maybe that’s what ~hwitagaunge~ means. Whore,-- he thought, translating the word into its vulgar form. “Not tonight. Perhaps later.”