The Tourmaline

Dedicated to Amyscence because he's a hoe and probably wouldn't read this. The cow. -.-

Anyway, I hope you all enjoy! :)

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I. The Waterfall of Arianna

"Now sit upright, Prince Shivawn. Head slightly tilted upwards and spine straight, hands delicately holding the reigns..."

Prince Shivawn of Vileria refused himself the urge to grit his teeth. The white Pegasus beneath him had been chewing some indigestible substance since they'd left the castle stable and it was beginning to irritate him. He wanted to aggravate the winged horse, but his parents were probably watching from some random balcony, staring with an unwavering eye down at him in the field with his etiquette trainer beside him.

It was a beautiful day. The yellow sun blazed heartily down at the land below it, the green grass looked even greener today, lightly glinting off the sun's rays because they were wet with the dew of the morning. Birds were singing and the servants were snipping at the large garden in front of the field - a useless garden according to the Prince - while Shivawn was on his second lesson in Pegasus riding.

He found the act truly boring. He hated anything that had to do with etiquette. His parents were overprotective of him and would never let him do anything rash. To be frank, he was a prisoner in his own home. There were times his mother literally put him in an invisible bubble of protection so he wouldn't hurt himself and it angered him to an unbelievable extent.

For a minute, he daydreamed about giving the reigns in his hands a sharp flick with his hands so that the Pegasus would fly forward and he would feel the wind sailing through his hair and the muscles in the animal's back ripple as it ran while he laughed in exhilaration. But sadly, that was all it was going to be - a daydream.

If he let that happen, his parents would definitely restrict his movements to within the castle itself. It was bad enough that he was already restricted to within the castle walls to move around and breathe. If you could call that breathing - he was suffocating, despite the spaciousness of the field and the cool breeze...he should feel free.

But he was trapped.

This time, he allowed himself the urge to grit his teeth, his hands tightening a little on the reigns.

"Relax," his tutor spoke gently beside him, an old Vilerian with a bald patch all the way from his forehead to the middle of his head making his green hair look like the letter 'U' when spotted from above or behind. The Pegasus he currently occupied was as green as his hair. Shivawn found it amusing that the people of Vileria loved riding winged horses the same colour of their hair. "Don't grip the reigns, Prince Shivawn. You should barely hold it - now give it a little flick with your wrist and we shall move into a trot."

Shivawn relaxed his hands and did as he was told and immediately, the winged horse trotted into motion.

"Very good Prince Shivawn," his tutor commended and made to ride alongside Shivawn and into the field.

To Shivawn, the thing was barely moving. He wanted real riding. He wanted to actually fly the Pegasus. Was it so bad to want that? Apparently yes, because his mother would have a fit. She would fuss about him falling and spraining his neck and his father would only nod solemnly beside her and from then on, flying on Pegasus would be banned.

He could bet on his life that the wrong movement right now would send his mother flying down the castle in record speed to scold him for his carelessness. They were always watching him. Always. He could feel their heated gaze even from here, waiting patiently for him to make the wrong move.

Shivawn glanced up and sure enough, his parents were up there in the first floor's sitting room balcony, beaming down at him. His mother's orange hair was up in a neat little bun, not a single strand out of place. She sat upright and with her hands placed delicately on top of each other on her crossed knees - the very aura of a true Queen. The King sat beside her, his back also ramrod straight, arms on the armrests of his chair and legs spread, the epitome of a gladiator, his baby blue hair held behind his head in a clasp.

His mother managed a small smile and he forced a smile back.

"Now Prince Shivawn, to stir the Pegasus, you only have to gently tug the reigns in the direction you want it to go. Like this."