Alberic struck the butt of his cane against the floor, the sound muffled by the thick woven rug under their feet. “I lost your mother just after you were born, I will not lose you as well!”
Crossing her arms over her chest, Amethyst narrowed her eyes. “I am not my mother. I cannot replace her, and to force me to do so is both unfair and cruel.”
At her words, Alberic looked as though he had been struck. He gripped the silver top of his cane, his hands shaking as he looked at her. Slowly, his shoulders sagged, and though he was still strong and fit, even in his advanced years, he suddenly looked old, frail, like he was about to topple over. He lowered himself back to his seat, resting both hands on his cane and looking down, closing his eyes.
“Amethyst, what I do, I do for your protection. You are not yet old enough, not experienced enough to make these decisions for yourself. There is much in this world, in Lonwick, that would do such unspeakable things to you. Here, you are safe. Here, you are secure. Nothing can hurt you while you are under my protection.”
She knelt down in front of him, and he opened his eyes to meet hers. “Father, I did not ask for you to shelter me. I did not ask for you to protect me from the world and take from me the experience that you say I lack. Taking someone's freedom from them in exchange for protection that they do not ask for is akin to making them a slave.”
The king held her gaze for a moment, then chuckled. He set a hand on her chin, caressing her cheek with his thumb. “Are you sure that you are not your mother? I swear I have heard those very same words come out of her mouth, many years ago.”
Amethyst set her hand over his. “You know that I love you, Father.”
“I know. And you know that I would do anything for your safety and happiness.”
She looked up to him, her purple eyes meeting his blue ones. “Then let me make this decision for myself.”
Alberic leaned back, holding her gaze. He was silent for a moment before he looked away. “I fear for you. I fear for what waits for you out in the world. And I fear that I'll lose you, too.”
Sitting down beside him, Amethyst took his hands in hers. “Let me give him my answer in the morning. Let me think about it tonight. I promise you that no matter what, if I do go, I will come back.”
Alberic nodded, squeezing her hands with his. “Sleep on it. Give it some serious thought. It's not just your future you are deciding, after all... it is the entire future of Lonwick.”
She nodded. “I know.”
Pushing himself up with his cane, Alberic stood again. “Go now. Prepare yourself for dinner and meet me in the banquet hall. After you eat, get some rest... you have a big decision to make tomorrow morning.”
She stood and curtsied slightly. “Yes, Father.”
The hallway outside was empty, not even any guards standing watch. Perhaps the king's outburst had shied them away, or maybe they were still escorting Rasul to the banquet hall. It didn't really matter, and frankly, she was grateful for the solitude. She made her way back to her chamber and shut the door, latching it behind her. She leaned up against the smooth wood, taking a deep breath.
She already knew what her answer was going to be.
~~~
3rd Waning Frost Moon, Year 4367
By the time the sun rose, Amethyst was awake. Usually, she slept until someone rapped on her door to let her know that breakfast was ready, but this morning arose with the dawn, dressing in a scarlet gown with long silk gloves that reached to her elbows. She tied her hair back with a bright crimson ribbon, not bothering to call a servant to brush her hair for her. She was fully capable of dressing herself, after all.
She sat at her desk, reading over a thick tome, though she found it difficult to focus. Should she pack now? When would they be departing? What was the road to the Northlands like? She hadn't been as far north as even Rockhill... was it as cold as she had heard? She had seen paintings of the Stromgard mountain, capped in snow even during the summer months.
There was a gentle knock at her door before it was pushed open a crack. “Your Grace?” came the soft voice of her handmaiden.
“Come in Tionna,” she said, closing the book on her desk.
The handmaiden stepped into the room, closing the door behind herself. “You're up early, Your Grace,” she said, surprised. She was near Amethyst's age, about 160 years, and was classically pretty in the manner of elves. Her blonde hair was tightly braided and pinned into a bun under a simple white cap, and she wore the black dress and white apron of the personal servants of nobility in Lonwick. She picked up the brush from the table, and stood behind Amethyst, inspecting her hair. Without asking, she untied the ribbon and began brushing Amethyst's long black tresses, gently working out any knots that had formed over the night.
“Up early reading, Your Majesty?” she asked conversationally.
“Trying to, at least,” Amethyst replied. While most of the servants were stiff and formal when interacting with her or her father, Amethyst and Tionna had developed a much closer relationship. The handmaiden would help Amethyst dress if her clothes were too elaborate to put on or take off herself, and she assisted the princess in most aspects of her daily routine, even though Amethyst was normally fine with taking care of herself. This meant that she and Tionna often just spent time in each other's company, though their stations kept them from becoming what one would call friends.
“What is the subject today?”
Flipping the book to show the front of the cover, Amethyst read the title aloud. “The Decimation of the Burning Sands and the Creation of the Southern Rift: A History of the Use and Power of Magic and Artifacts.”
Tionna raised an eyebrow as Amethyst rattled off the name of the book. “Seems like quite the tome, Princess. Are you planning on hunting down a magical sword or the like?”
Shaking her head, Amethyst scoffed. “No, not at all. I've meant to read it thoroughly for some time, but the priests of Luxa always seemed to disapprove. Soon, it won't matter. I won't be around for them to cast their judgmental eyes my way.”
Tionna paused in brushing Amethyst's hair. “What do you mean, Your Grace?”
Folding her hands in her lap, Amethyst faced forward as Tionna wove a braid into her hair. “You heard of the visitor we had yesterday, both in court and in the banquet hall?”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
Amethyst lifted the ribbon and untied her earlier knot, smoothing it in her hands. “It turns out he was the messenger of powerful wizard. A wizard that works with stones and crystals and metal. The messenger said that they wished to offer me a chance to be his apprentice and learn his magic.”
Tionna frowned, finishing her work. Gently, she took the ribbon from Amethyst and tied it around the end of the braid, forming it into an intricate bow, holding Amethyst's hair in place.
“But a mage, Your Grace... aren't they all evil? An affront to the gods?”
Lifting a mirror, Amethyst examined Tionna's braid. It was flawless, as always. The girl definitely knew her tasks and performed them well. “No, not always. The priests don't get along with them, that much is clear, but I'm not sure why.” She turned to face the girl. “I suppose this is an opportunity for me to find out.”
Tionna curtsied slightly. “As you say, Your Grace.”
Standing, Amethyst smoothed the wrinkles from her dress. “Don't worry, Tionna. You've known me for twenty years. Am I the kind of elf to fall in with evil people? If they aren't what they seem, I'll turn right around and come back to Lonwick.” She shrugged. “Besides, I might not even get chosen. There's no guarantee on that, so I might come back home right away.”
Tionna nodded. “Yes, Your Grace. Of course.” She stepped back, clasping her hands behind her back. “Breakfast is being served in the banquet hall. Will you take your meal there, or here in your chamber?”
“I'll go to the banquet hall. I am to deliver my decision to my father and Rasul this morning.”
The handmaiden bowed her head. “Yes, Your Grace
.”
Amethyst left the room, leaving Tionna to straighten her bed. The hallways were quite empty at this time of day, before the hustle and bustle of the afternoon. When she reached the large banquet hall, the smell of hot meats and bread greeted her, and she realized how hungry she was. She held back a sigh and took her seat. No matter how she may feel, ladies of the court were expected to eat light. She would take a small breakfast here, then have some more food delivered to her room. Tradition be damned, she was hungry.
Her father was already seated, as were Rasul and a handful of other noble men, women, and elves. The dwarves were, as usual, absent from the dining chamber; while they were accepted in court, as per numerous treaties and agreements, they were less welcome in more social situations, such as meals and balls.
“Good morning, Amethyst,” her father said, greeting her as she sat down. “I trust you slept well?”
“As well as could be expected,” she said, spearing a small slice of ham with the two-pronged meat fork that rested on the edge of the tray.
“I assume you have come to a decision?” Alberic's voice was low, expectant. He was wise enough to know what she was going to say, but she had to make it official nonetheless.
“I have,” she said, pouring a rich brown gravy over the ham. “I am going to accompany Rasul to the Northlands. I may not even get picked, so it's possible that I will be coming back shortly. There is no harm in at least trying.”
“No harm in trying,” Alberic murmured, repeating her words. “If only we were certain that was the case.” He sliced a small square of ham off the steak on his plate and lifted it with his fork, along with a similar size piece of bread. “Very well. Rasul has told me that he plans to leave for Mount Stromgard after he has visited Greatport. That will give us time to prepare for your trip and assemble an escort.”
Amethyst sighed, rolling her eyes. “Is an escort really necessary, father? I can travel much faster by myself.”
Alberic frowned. “I would not travel without a force of soldiers to protect me, and neither will you. There have been many reports of bands of orcs in our northern provinces, near the border of the Northlands. Just yesterday, you heard reports of trolls in the mountains north of Greatport. To travel alone would be exceedingly foolish.” He glanced sidelong at her. “I do not take you for a fool, daughter. If you do not travel with an escort, then you do not travel.”
“Very well,” said Amethyst, scowling at her food. She sliced a piece of ham from the steak and stabbed it with her fork, popping it into her mouth with a bite of bread, like her father had done. The brown sauce was savory, somewhat salty, and soaked into the bread, complementing the maple cured ham quite nicely. Though she had been hoping for crisp bacon and white gravy over rolls, this was an acceptable substitution.
Alberic beckoned to Rasul, who rose from his seat and approached their table. Bowing low, he greeted Alberic and Amethyst. “Your Majesties, good morning. Thank you for your hospitality last night, and this morning.”
“You are welcome,” said Alberic, setting his fork down. “The Princess has decided to accompany you on your return to your master. Do I understand correctly that you will be journeying to Greatport?”
Rasul tucked his hands into his sleeves. “Yes, Your Majesty. I plan to depart immediately after this meal. The trip should take no more than two days, with another day or two to find what I need in the city, then a return of about the same. I imagine I will be back to Castle Lonwick within a week.”
Alberic nodded. “Amethyst will be ready to depart in one week, then.”
Rasul glanced at Amethyst, his blue eyes meeting hers. They seemed very out of place, standing out brilliantly from his otherwise dark complexion. Hastily, Amethyst wiped her mouth with a napkin, swallowing her bite of food. “Yes, Rasul. I will be sure to have my horse prepared and my belongings packed upon your return. Is there anything, in particular, I should bring with me?”
The messenger smiled. “If you have any sentimental belongings, those should come along, as well as any personal care items. Apprentices provide their own possessions, aside from clothing and food, which is provided by Giriraj. I would dress warmly for the Choosing, Your Grace. The Northlands are much colder than Lonwick, especially at this time of year and in the coming winter.”
“I will be sure to do so,” Amethyst said, nodding.
“Another note,” Rasul said, holding up one finger. “You should leave any servants behind. If you are chosen to be the apprentice to the Master of Earth, you will be expected to care for yourself and meet any of his requests personally. Servants will not be admitted to any of his domains.” He shook his head slightly, smiling. “I learned this the hard way, and it was an unneeded burden upon those I brought with me.”
Alberic set his fork down and leaned back in his chair. “Were you a wealthy man, Rasul?”
Tucking his hands back into his sleeves, Rasul nodded. “I was, Your Majesty. My family owns a lot of land in the northern reaches of the Burning Sands, near the border of the Northlands.”
The king gestured with his fork towards the dark-skinned messenger. “I can see the influence that has had on you. You have the eyes of a Northman, but the skin of the Burning Sands.”
Rasul smiled again, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Indeed. My family hails from both sides of the mountains. You have a good eye for bloodlines, Your Majesty.”
“It behooves me to do so,” Alberic said. “Very well. Finish your meal, and go in good faith. We shall await your return.”
Rasul bowed again. “By your leave, Your Grace.”
The messenger returned to his seat, while Amethyst and Alberic resumed their meals.
Amethyst's head swam. One week. In one week, she would be on her way. To say she was excited would have been an understatement.
~~~
10th Waning Frost Moon, Year 4367
Amethyst sat on the back of her horse, Lucidus, for the first time in far too long. She could tell that he was as eager as she was to get started as he pawed the ground with one hoof, gnawing impatiently at his bit. He was young, slender, and agile, obedient yet spirited. She felt a sort of kinship with him in that regard; she preferred to let him run, riding with him rather than reining in his spirit. Unfortunately, this journey would not be one that afforded them any opportunity to race the wind. No, this trip would have the pace set by the two score soldiers on their horses behind her, and the five servants riding in the cart that held her pavilion, their food and water for the journey, and her personal belongings.
Her father was mounted on his warhorse, wearing his royal garb, looking for all the world like he was the one embarking on a journey. His cloak was a deep blue velvet, trimmed in gold, with white wolf fur around the neck and shoulder, and was pulled tight against the chill of the late autumn air. Behind him, the Royal Guard stood in formation, having accompanied them through the city with all the pomp and circumstance that befitted the passage of a member of the royal family.
Alberic sighed, stepping his mount to Amethyst. “The last time I watched a woman ride away to the north, she was lost to me. I don't think I could bear it if you suffered your mother's fate.”
She shook her head, holding Lucidus steady. “You've made sure that I have more than enough protection. I'll be fine, don't worry.”
“Telling a father not to worry is like telling the sun not to rise. I couldn't stop that even if I wanted to.” He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. “Travel safely, my daughter. Return to me as soon as you can.”
She nodded. “I will, Father. I promise.”
Alberic looked past her to the forty cavalry traveling with her. “Keep her safe. Protect her with your lives.”
As one, the soldiers saluted their king, pounding their breasts once with their fists. Each wore sturdy steel breastplates and chainmaille, and carried a long spear, a sword, and a bow, letting them deal with any threat that might come their way. With these warriors at her back, nothing short of an army
could pose any real danger.
Amethyst held her hand up in parting to her father and turned Lucidus towards the road. Rasul kicked his horse into step next to her, his loaded saddlebags nearly matching the beast's chestnut coat. Behind her, the cavalry fell into formation, with the cart taking up the rear of the line. They started off along the road that would lead them into the mountains, past Rockhill, and into the Northlands.
As Castle Lonwick fell into the distance behind them, Amethyst conversed with Rasul, asking him questions about the Northlands, about where he came from, and about the Choosing itself.
“What is the Choosing like? I have gathered that it is a sort of ceremony... does he just come out, look us over, and pick one?”
Rasul laughed. “Not quite, Your Grace. The Choosing is a ceremony, yes, but before that each of the Hopefuls – that's you, as well as however many other people show up that show skill in the element of Earth – will undergo several challenges. During these challenges, you will tap into the energies of the mountain itself, and attempt to see your way through them with as much skill as you can muster. Once the ceremony begins, you will compete with the remaining Hopefuls, generally reduced to the most promising three. The one that shows the most potential during the competition is generally the one that Giriraj will choose, though sometimes that person is not the Hopeful that completed the challenges the quickest.”
Amethyst considered the information. The fact that she would be competing against others didn't necessarily bother her, but she hadn't entirely expected it. In her life, she hadn't ever really needed to compete with anyone for anything. When she had been attending her schooling over the last few decades, there had been a handful of students alongside her, but they had never approached her dedication or focus, leaving her consistently at the top of her class.
Snowfall Page 3
