The past, about 15 and 3/4 years ago.
Ezry
To say that Kyre took over from Taelun and started to train us as I had hoped would be completely false. He did so much better. It had been several weeks now, and on the days we trained with him, he changed everything that we did daily. There was no routine. Some days we did nothing but exercise, others, we practiced with weapons, and many days were a mix. The best days were when he took us into the forest for drills and practice, having other already trained groups attack us.
He of course never helped us, only gave us suggestions as we fought to keep ourselves from loosing too badly. Even though I tell myself that I already knew that me being skilled would not help a large group if they were not as skilled as I, it really is something that one needs to experience to truly lose their pride in that respect.
I certainly hope my father and brother didn't let me win those times. If they did, they're really in for the next time I see them. But I suspect its that, no matter how well my father trained me, and taught me, the experience of being ambushed by those more experienced, and with greater numbers is why my heads new default position is down in shame.
"Everyone, to the center training fields," Kyre spoke loudly as we ran swiftly away from our almost win, but still defeat. We did well as a team; myself leading today, though Kyre always changed who lead for these events.
"You did considerably better today," he told the group, looking at all of us. "I want to know why. You came so close to winning I thought I was going to have to reprimand my trained elite fighters for loosing to this group." He looked at everyone expectantly.
"Commander, I believe it was because you chose Ezry as our lead today," Rafe said looking proud.
Kyre looked towards me, a smirk on his lips, "I think that is exactly what happened." He gave me an assessing look, starting at my head, traveling down in an assessing way, when he got to my chest he stared too long, but realized this as his eyebrow pinched together, and he continued. "Come fight me Ezry, if you come close to winning, I will give you lead more often."
"What if I go beyond coming close, and actually win?" I smiled at him, I was full of myself, and didn't give a damn. I loved a challenge, and he never knew, but I always held myself back when sparing with others. I also have won against me father, though not every time.
He laughed, clutching his stomach, the prick. He didn't stop, until I had walked up to him glaring, having to look up to do so. Everyone took a step back, partly because he rarely laughs unless someone is about to die, but also because I suspect they see the seething look in my eyes.
"If you win, your whole group can be served in the castle dinning hall, by myself," the laughing started dying down.
I knew it wasn't a sure thing. Even on the best of days, I only beat my father half of the time, but he knew everything I did. Kyre didn't know me as well as he thought he did. "Give me your word. If you win you will serve our entire group in the castle dinning room. Wine from the royal reserve included, with our steak. What if you win?"
Surprised, he said simply, "I'm going to win, but I swear I won't throw it in your face. I don't want to embarrass you. You're learning."
"Very admirable. But I don't want that. I have a real stake in this, you should too."
"Don't speak so disrespectfully to me," he looked angry now. "Fine, when I win, your on latrine duty for the week." I sucked in a breath. Shit...literally.
"Agreed." I said grimly. Even if I didn't win, being close enough to make him sweat would just have to be enough. His sharp teeth showed as he grinned at me.
Kyre was nice enough to let me get some food and water, I chose two swords, one straight, and one curved. Everyone had a preference, the long sword was best for stabbing, and the curved scimitar best for slicing when I only had a side angle and couldn't draw my other sword back enough.
As we stood across from each other, I saw how excited he was, but I knew he was trying to hide it. I was excited too, and was going to only fight the first ten or twenty minutes on the defensive. I needed him to let his guard down. We both saw Rhydian walk up to the group, with him stopping to talk to Kyre. Kyre probably explaining everything to him, as Rhydian glanced towards me, looking skeptically.
Finally, we were both ready, and since I was going to stay on the defensive, I let him make the first strike. He was just as powerful as my father, but taller with a wider reach, but I could stop those strikes just as well as anyone else. I'd been doing it since I was a child. The first few blocks I made with my swords, either crossing, or moving to my side seemed to make Kyre annoyed. I half-heartedly tried to contact his torso, though they were still powerful strikes. The sounds of metal rang out, like a chorus, the reverberations sang in the air. Thankfully those were the majority of the sounds, because you don't talk during a sword fight. My chorus. Our chorus. It was deadly, and could end lives, but we made it, and it was ours, just for a time.
Each time he blocked me, his brows pinched, and each time I blocked him, he started to grow more agitated. After about 10 minutes I started to slow, making him think I was tiring. I couldn't miss the look of disappointment on his face. Don't worry; it's going to start soon, I thought.
I let him get me into a position that would mean my defeat, but I'd been here before, and knew I could get out. My father taught both of us this move, and he taught both of us how to escape it. I smiled at him, as a look of triumph shown in his eyes.
I smiled back, and then I stopped pretending. I crouched, kicked his legs out, and knew he would only stagger, but that was enough. I swung around to this left, my curved blade wanted his blood, and I was able to draw it out of his leg. Everyone gasped, and though I could see that he wanted to stop and gape, I gave him no chance. I kept coming, and he kept defending. I was small, but I was fast, and I used that as I my blades continued to ignite with his, sweat pouring off our bodies, both of us panting, and both of us grinning like loons.
We didn't stop. He was almost as good as my father, but I wanted a steak and wine. This kept up for over 45 minutes, we circled, swiped, lunged, and at times our bodies collided making me loose focus. Because of that, I had been cut twice, one on each arm, and he had three leg cuts. The sounds from every one watching melded into the foreground, but neither of us cared. We were in our bliss, neither prepared to yield. As we were tiring, our control of our magic slipped, I'd feel his teasing mine, and mine almost snapping back. I don't know how else to describe it, its never happened, and analogies of things I have seen were my only resort.
Eventually I was able to take one of his swords away, again causing loud noises all around us, but shortly after that, I was left only with my long sword.
Our movements were fast, powerful, and the power behind our movements was nothing compared to our finesse and skill. Powerful blows were only good when you wanted to crush. They were sometimes slow, and clumsy, though with us they didn't seem to be. The lithe and grace of our bodies in this dance like struggle was captivating.
Suddenly, there! He left his upper left side open after a failed attempt, I dove in, sword first as I aimed it at the soft flesh of his neck. The tip connected drawing the first mortal wound. Just a drop. But that drop of blood sealed my victory.
I saw it trickle down his neck, and though I tried hard to smile good naturedly, I couldn't hide the manic look of triumph I saw on my face, as I saw my reflection in his eyes.
I didn't want to gloat. He and I both knew what just happened. I did allow myself one thing though, "I want wine, as dark as the blood that seeps out of you; good wine, and not the human kind. And I want my meat to bleed as you bleed."
Kyre stared at me for a long time. He never stopped the speck of blood, and he didn't look away. There was intensity there, calculating, yes, but there was a fire in his eyes that I hadn't seen before. His nostrils flaring, finally breaking himself of his trance, he held his hand out, and I placed mine in his.
Kyre**************
Closing my eyes, I give thanks to any God's and Goddesses that are listening that we will be in the castles smaller dining hall for dinner tonight. I already know where the conversation is going to lead, and I don't want too many eavesdroppers for me to worry about and plot against, should they discuss things they shouldn't.
Walking in, my father is already seated, the light from outside still illuminating him as the sky turns red. One of my other commanders is sitting with him, as I'd sent for him. "Kyre, it's good to see you doing so well." He looks my body up and down, the annoying smirk on his face that I'd beaten off him too many times when we were young, "You look soft. Have they been spoon feeding you while you lay in bed all day, my Prince?" I snort at him, knowing he's trying to do what he does so well, start fights.
I'd told my father and Rhydian I needed another to help with the training, someone to fill in when I couldn't be here. Noloor is skilled, and though I know he is needed in patrols and scouting, I know that what the students need are two strong warriors, especially given their beginning.
"It hasn't been long enough Noloor," I drawled, slapping his shoulder, as my mother and Rhydian come in. Taking a deep breath, I ready myself for my brother 'discussing' my defeat today. Surprisingly, even though I don't want to discuss it, I'm not embarrassed. I should be, a student beat me, but I know that not many beat me, and I was fighting my hardest, and still, she won. I contemplate this as dinner starts, and conversations begin around me.
Thankfully there is calmness in the room; my father and mother sit side by side, whispering into each other's ear, my mother trying to hide her blush, and my father unsuccessfully hiding his smile behind his water. Sometimes I see them, and don't know if I envy them for what they have, or am thankful that I don't have such a weakness.
"Hello, daddy," I turn and see my niece Ildrie beaming at Rhydian. She's such a tenacious little thing, and even though she looks too much like her mother with her fair hair, and light blue eyes, I would do anything for her. She knows it too, the little beast.
"Where's my smile, little one?" I say with mock hurt.
"You'll earn a smile when you do better with teaching me hand to hand combat," she says in her high pitched voice, "and I want to learn to swordfight" she say's with a scowl.
"You're 10, and have several full time guards. Knives and smaller weapons for now, along with how to get out of someone's grasp until you are older. Besides little one, the sword might not be the weapon the gods intended for you. You need to wait and see what you do best in."
She looks at me, with a coldness that doesn't belong on her face, and I hate that it reminds me so much of Leirit, her mother. "You also didn't have a mother like mine," she says flatly.
"Ildri," Rhydian gives a harsh whisper, gritting his teeth, "don't ever say such a thing of your mother. She may not be who you would have wanted, and she has her faults, but she would never harm you, or anyone."
Ildri looks at me, challenging me to correct her. But I won't. Rhydian blames me for Ildri's hatred of her mother, but I maintain her mother did all of the work forming that hateful relationship. Thankfully she is away for several weeks, as she is most times. I may have to go to Innana's temple later to give thanks for that.
"Fine," Ildri say's, her defiance making me both proud, and want to laugh. She then looked over at me, her eyes alight with a mischievous joy, "Kyre," she say's sweetly, "I heard my Daddy tell someone you lost to a student today? Perhaps I should ask him to teach me?" I choke on my drink, lurching forward, glaring at her.
"You little traitor," I sneer at her before smiling.
I look at my brother who's smiling broadly at his daughter, and then to my parents. My mother's eyebrows are pinched in concentration, and my father looks disbelieving.
He is of course the first to speak, "you let a student win? I've never known you to do that, Kyre."
Of course Rhydian snorts his own drink, looking at me first and then my father, "I was there, I swear on my honor, she won fairly," he then looked at Ildrie, who had her eye brows raised with a small smile on her face.
"Kyre, dear, are you feeling well? Rhydian, why did you not heal your brother before he did such a thing?"
I look at my mother flatly, "I'm fine, stop worrying mother. I knew she was skilled, and talented, but apparently, she was withholding exactly how skilled and talented before I made a wager with her."
Ildrie and Noloor are laughing together; perhaps that traitorous child is too much like her mother.
"What was the wager?" My mother asks, warily.
Closing my eyes, and taking a deep breath, "I have to personally serve the entire class in the main dinning hall."
"Kyre," my father chastises, "this isn't like you. And you know better than to be in that situation."
"What's her name?" My mother asks, I can see her give my father a side ways glance, smirking. Did she know something I don't?
"Ezry," Rhydian supplies.
Now both of my parents smile at each other, there happiness is apparent. I narrow my eyes, and demand, "what do you know that I don't? Is she a spy?"
At this both my parents laugh at me, right at me, it's as if they think just because I'm their son that I won't challenge them to a fight.
"She's not a spy, dear. But I'm not surprised she won." My mother says softly, and refuses to answer any more questions for the rest of the night, even after threats, both direct and indirect. I'll have to seek Ezry and find out how my parents know her. Is she the daughter of a councilor? Why else would they know her?
After I realize they won't be discussing anything, I turn towards Noloor to discuss what has been occurring near the boarders. This conversation quiets for a moment as one of the staff brings in more wine.
However, as soon as the wine is placed on the table, I smell it. I look at everyone, and we all smell it. Poison. My brother and I look at each other and smile. My father looks thunderous, and Noloor just looks bored.
This must have been the doing of the human staff. Fae would know, and be able to smell it immediately. Ildrie smells it as well, as she chews on her cheek, and takes the drink of juice, her eyes on the server that brought it and brings it to her mouth, and takes a sip. I see the woman pale, and look as though she's about to faint. My brother scowls at Ildri, "don't do that, dear, you're going to make the woman pass out before we have a chance to question her." He murmurs in her ear.
Ildri just shrugs and gives and innocent look, "Oops."
Of course we can tell from the smell, that even though its poison, the worse it would do is give Ildrie a headache, which Rhydian immediately relieves. Human poisons don't work on us, not as they should.
I then put the wine to my mouth, and down the entire drink, Rhydian and Noloor grinning at me as I finish, and wait expectantly for him to relieve my mild headache.
Standing, I motion for the server to come over. "What is your name?"
"R-Rosalie," she whispers, and I can see and smell the sweat pouring out of her.
I was never allowed to play with my food as a child, so I learned to play with other things. I will play with Rosalie tonight.
"Rosalie, my little niece, Ildrie thinks her juice tastes odd, and I think my wine tastes odd" I look over to Ildri, a concerned look on my face, "did it not taste odd princess?"
She moans, and makes gagging noises, and I role my eyes at her. "I feel sick, Kyre. Daddy, what's wrong with me?"
Rosalie collapses on the floor, and starts to sob. I'm not playing now, when I grab her dress, and drag her out of the room, away from my family, and away from Ildrie. She's not sheltered, she's seen this before, but I still try to limit it.
She stumbles, hardly able to keep up with me as my anger grows. I know she was set up for this. Or made to do it. It doesn't matter. She'll have to die to keep my family safe, but not before I find out more. The other staff sees me, and knows to move. My magic starts seeping out, small bursts of light that seem to have a mind of their own collide with pieces of her body, making her scream. I try to calm myself enough to force them not to do irrevocable damage until I get my answers.
As I drag her down the stairs, and through one of the cells, I strap her arms into chains, making her body dangle in its weakness. I pace in front of her, until I think she is ready to answer.
"Who sent you?"
"Please, I'm so sorry." Her body shakes, urine staining her dress, "I didn't want to do this. I'm so sorry," she sobs.
"I believe you." I tell her simply. Because I do.
"Oh, thank the gods!" she's relieved, and I see she thinks she will live.
I laugh lightly, as I go to my toys. "The truth will not set you free, woman. But it will prevent suffering. You will die tonight, but the how is up to you."
She takes deep breathes, trying to calm herself, and looking up at me, "please, please don't. They'll kill my son." She breaks down again, "he's only 3, and if I didn't succeed in killing one member of your family, they will kill him." She looks at me again, a fire in her eyes that wasn't there before. "I will do anything for my son. Even if it means being tortured for eternity, while my son lives."
This news is horrific, however, I need more information first. "Its very lucky of you, Rosalie, I specialize in torture, and I have no qualms about doing it for all of eternity."
"Do it. I don't care. If my son dies, I don't care about my pain," tears stream down her cheeks, but I can see the truth.
"Tell me what happened."
So, she tells me everything, I only have to provide small amounts of pain every so often to encourage her to continue. She's from Cimmeria, and like the residents of any realm, they are only as safe and happy as their ruler allows. For the most part, he knows to leave the masses alone, choosing only isolated Fae and human to torture. But Lysander, well Lysander has been known to do this from time to time. When she's done telling me all she will, she slumps.
My lenience is perhaps not what others would consider perfect, but it's the best I choose t do. She tells me where she thinks they are keeping her son, but she knows nothing else. So then, its up to me to decide. Do I risk my soldiers to save this boy? Or do I simply, not? The final decision comes down to the idea that, as a whole, we want everyone here to feel safe. It decreases disharmony, and decreases the changes of one of our own trusted staff to do as this Rosalie did. Being the hero is of benefit. Look at Lysander. He has made enemies, who will do anything for revenge.
"We will try to find your son. If we cannot find him, or if he is dead, I will let you choose what happens to you. But you are not leaving here until I return," I tell her flatly. I hear her whimpering, and praying as I walk out, to discuss everything with my family.