n_wilkinson (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
n_wilkinson) wrote2012-06-03 10:47 pm
n_wilkinson) wrote2012-06-03 10:47 pm
Entry tags:
[Infinity's End] The Break of Day 01-18
a/n: Special thanks to azardarkstar for the betawork on this. It's now suitable for reading! :)
Title: The Break of Day
Series: Infinity's End, Prequel
Summary: A friendship that takes everyone by surprise slowly evolves into a deeper bond as Azriel, illegitimate son of the house Celestine, and Kieran, heir to the house Azura, throw themselves into the heart of a building altercation that explodes into an all out revolution.
(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (18) (19) (20)
November 25th, 1980
“What do you mean you're not going?”
Azriel barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes.
“I have work to do. I don't have time for revelry.”
Titania scoffed. “I don't believe that for a second. This is the only day out of the entire year that no one has any duties.”
“You forget emergency personnel.”
“Transcribing an old manuscript is not an emergency,” she retorted and leaned forward, planting her palm in the middle of the paper. “What's the real reason, Azriel?”
He leaned back, giving up the pretense of work.
“I've not attended His Holiness' celebration since I was a child. I just don't have any interest in that sort of thing.”
Especially since he didn't believe in the deified state of their so-called king. But Azriel couldn't say that. Such words were grounds for execution. It seemed he was always dancing a fine line of death, wasn't he?
“I'll bet Kieran is going.”
“I'm sure he is. I, however, am not.”
Titania sighed, bracing herself on the arms of his chair.
“I'm not going without you.”
His brow crinkled. Such words weren't really the way to convince him. Only Kieran seemed to have perfected the forlorn look that could guilt Azriel into agreeing.
“I want you to come,” she added. “It's a rare chance to relax. For both of us.” Her thumb stretched out to stroke over his arm. “You could use the break.”
His stubborn refusal faltered. Had he been neglecting her?
“You know I don't enjoy noisy gatherings.”
“We don't have to stay the entire time. But making an appearance is important. Honoring His Highness is important.”
Azriel barely wiped away the scowl before it could surface. He cared nothing for honoring the false deity. But Titania couldn't know that.
He let out a breath.
“Very well. I will attend. But only for an hour or two.”
“Thank you.” She straightened a bit, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Shall we go?”
Azriel turned his head, capturing her lips before she could pull back.
“Yes,” he said in between kisses. “Right now if you want.”
“I want.”
Titania smiled warmly, her eyes glinting with mischief. Resigned, Azriel forced himself out of his chair and away from his desk. He shrugged into his jacket and followed her into a chilly, damp afternoon. It was early enough that the sun had yet to set.
The streets were filled with happy chatter; streamers were hung from rooftop to eaves. Committees had been decorating for weeks, and it showed. It would probably take them just as long to remove all the decorations. Closed signs hung in storefronts. Children laughed as they chased each other with pretend weapons, acting out a story they had all heard from their childhood.
Azriel could nearly recite it himself.
It was the same legend which would take center stage in the theater today. A condensed version would be used at the official ceremonies. Songs would extol His Lordship's greatness. They’d drink and eat in his name, give thanks for the life they'd been granted.
Lies. It was all of it lies. And the populace would never know.
Titania threaded her arm through his. Her cheer evident in her tone.
“Any preferences or do you plan to let me lead you by the horns?”
“Your choice, my dear.”
“I thought as much.” She hummed. “They're playing music in the square. Maybe dancing?”
Azriel winced. “Are you in want of bruised toes?”
“Not so graceful then. Well, we have some time to kill until the dedication. We have to do something.”
Sighing, Azriel scanned the crowded streets. He sought something inoffensive and least celebratory. He spied a small tea shop open for business, no doubt offering its wares for free as many shopkeepers did for this celebration.
“I could use something warm to drink,” Azriel said and curled his hand around hers. “Tea?”
“Do they have snacks?” She squeezed his hand, threading their fingers.
Azriel laughed. “Now you sound like Kieran. It wouldn't hurt to check.”
He tucked Titania to his side, and they threaded through the crowd, heading for the small shop with a huge set up for outdoor seating. There were snacks available: small puffy pastries filled with a light cream. They chose an unoccupied table, and Azriel pulled out a chair for Titania. Before they could even get settled, a young man came their way, bearing a tray.
“Happy Holiness Day!” the waiter greeted cheerfully. “Today we're offering a black chai with cinnamon accents. And of course, our famous cream puffs.”
“Sounds great.” Titania accepted cup and saucer as they were served. “Thanks.”
The server grinned. “You're welcome. Enjoy!”
He was gone in a flash, off to serve the next customer. No doubt he was either the owner himself or perhaps a son. Employers were forbidden from requiring their employees to work on this day after all. Keeping it within the family though was perfectly acceptable.
Azriel lifted his cup, testing the aroma of the tea. It was strong, a hint of dark spice.
Intriguing.
“What do you think?” Titania asked.
Azriel dared a sip. “It's different but not unpleasant.”
The warmth was most welcome. The cold air caused his breath to emerge in a briefly visible fog.
“I like it.” She plucked a pastry from the small tray and popped it into her mouth. “Mmm. These, too. They aren't that sweet either. You'd like them.”
He took her word for it and settled comfortably into his chair, shifting his gaze to the passing populace. Everyone looked happy for the celebration. But of course, they were unaware of the truth, knowing only the lies they'd been fed.
As far as they knew, the land had once been dark and infested with demons of a most unsavory sort. They’d crawled across the earth like darkness given life. The world had been filled with hatred and misery, poison seeping out of every crack and opening.
And then, there was light. His Holiness had appeared, descending from on high to strike down the demons, driving them from the land. They’d fled from the power of his might. The darkness receded, leaving behind a verdant land, a place where the good could live and prosper. His Kingship then created his people to cultivate the newly won paradise.
He formed the people from clay and water, shaped them with fire, and breathed life into them. By his grace, the people of Talemar were gifted the land while the demons were banished to the desolate outskirts where they could hurt no one.
The demons would later be given a name: the Merihem. And their cursed land: the Varos Flats.
His Holiness' birthday celebrated the day that their god descended, choosing to live with what he had created rather than watch from afar. It was considered a joyous occasion.
It was all a lie.
If Azriel hadn't met Manah, he would’ve gone on believing those lies for the rest of his life. He loathed that he had ever bore such ignorance.
“Azriel?”
He stirred. “I'm sorry. I was thinking.”
“I noticed,” Titania teased gently. “Anything you care to share?”
Azriel shook his head, reaching for one of the pastries.
“Nothing interesting. How's the tea?”
“Delicious.” Her eyes flicked upward, and she smiled.
Darkness fell over Azriel's eyes, warm fingers pressing to his face and something leaning against his back. Azriel stiffened.
“Guess who,” a familiar voice sing-songed.
Titania laughed; Azriel relaxed.
He reached up, removing the offending hands. “Kieran. Nice to see you.”
The hands landed on his shoulders as Kieran's face appeared directly on his right. Naturally, he wore a roguish grin.
“Fancy running into you here.”
“You say that like it was an accident,” another person inserted with a snort. “You've spent the last two hours looking for him.”
Kieran pouted. “It wasn't nearly that long.”
“Felt like it.”
Azriel looked to the left where Harper swaggered into view. She plopped herself down at an empty seat, sword rattling at her side.
“She doesn't know what she's talking about,” Kieran muttered with an offended sniff.
“Hello, Harper,” Azriel said, ignoring Kiean's usual drama. “I’m surprised you weren't drafted for crowd control.”
She waved a dismissive hand. “Nah. I'm one of the few who missed that joyous assignment.”
“She's got Diana's Luck,” Kieran said with a sage nod before he grinned at Azriel's companion. “Titania! It's been awhile!”
“Several months.” Titania smiled, amused as always by Kieran's unending energy. She found him charming. “You've been busy with the Conservatory?”
Kieran rolled his eyes. “You know it. Seniors have more work than anyone. Greater expectations, too. It sucks.”
Harper jerked a thumb in Kieran's direction. “And procrastinator over here refuses to finalize his plans.
“Oh? You don't want to join the Jeode?” Titania asked in all innocence.
“I haven't decided yet.”
Kieran crossed his arms petulantly. He didn't like discussing his indecision, nor did he like being reminded of it. Azriel sensed this conversation was heading in a distinctly disastrous direction.
“And sooner or later, Lord Azura will make that choice for you,” Harper put in.
Kieran's eyes narrowed in a manner that Azriel had come to recognize all too well. He hurried to intervene.
“Where's everyone else?” he asked, hoping to avoid the arrival of Kieran's irritation. Which would inevitably lead to a world class sulk and then none of them would have any fun.
Harper shrugged. “I lost Yonah in the crowd. Souya and Lyra snuck away when we weren't looking.” She winked. “I guess they wanted some alone time.
Which, Azriel noticed, was becoming more and more frequent now that their budding relationship had been outed to their friends. Then again, the only time Souya and Lyra could openly display their relationship was when they were among friends.
“What about you?” Kieran leaned forward eagerly. “Planning on doing anything interesting?”
“We don't know. I'm leaving that up to Titania.” Azriel shook his head.
She grinned. “I couldn't get him to dance, but maybe he can be convinced to do a little shopping with me.”
The server from before returned, refreshing Azriel and Titania's tea while bringing cups and sweets for the new arrivals.
“Shopping?” Kieran burst into laughter. “Azriel hates shopping.”
“I'm right here you know.”
Harper popped a cream puff into her mouth, chomping noisily. Both she and Kieran had the habit of losing their manners whenever they felt like it.
“You know, the weapons exhibition starts in about twenty minutes. I hear Lord Valtare's challenged Lord Aidan.”
Azriel sat up straighter. He hadn't heard about this. Neither of his uncles had mentioned such a thing! If he'd known, he wouldn't have dug his heels in about coming to this ridiculous celebration.
“Has he lost his mind?” Titania’s jaw dropped in stunned surprise. “Lord Aidan hasn't lost a challenge by blade in two decades!”
Neither had Lord Adair for that matter, but he was less likely to accept a bladed challenge. Of the brothers, Aidan was the more militarily inclined.
Kieran sipped noisily at his tea. “Only because his brother refuses to accept an open duel. Right Azriel?” Both dark eyebrows rose pointedly.
Azriel cast his dear friend a warning look. Kieran knew full well that he didn't like talking about his familial relations, especially around Titania who remained ignorant of Azriel's origins.
“You must mean Lord Adair as Lord Asher's skills have yet to match his younger brother's.”
Harper sucked down her tea in one huge gulp, popped another pastry into her mouth, and shot to her feet. “Well, I'm interested in seeing Misae's ego get taken down a few notches. Want to come with?”
It was a much better option than dancing or shopping for sure. Though it was also not Azriel's decision alone to make.
“I'm in.” Kieran grabbed the last of the pastries and stuffed a few into his pockets. “Azriel?”
He looked at Titania, who gave a long, playful sigh as she rose to her feet. “We're both coming,” she said and flicked her long hair over her shoulder.
“Then we'd better get a move on, or we'll miss the introductions,” Harper announced, slinging her arm over Kieran's shoulders and tucking him against her side.
Azriel offered his arm to Titania. “Shall we?”
“We shall.”
Her arm linked through his, and they joined Harper in the streaming crowd. Luckily, the press of people seemed to be heading in the same general direction, which made navigating much easier.
“Thank you,” Azriel said to his... girlfriend? Lover wasn't appropriate quite yet, but the former term sounded so juvenile. “I know you have little interest in swordplay.
Titania squeezed his arm. “I decided it was only fair since I badgered you to come in the first place. But after this, it's my choice. Yes?”
What in Talemar had he gotten himself into? Azriel had sudden visions of himself on aching feet as they wandered from shop to shop. Or worse, danced. Then again, Titania could be quite devious. Perhaps she had something more insidious in mind. Still, fair was fair.
“Yes.”
Titania chuckled. “Don't worry. It won't involve either of the things Kieran believes you to hate.”
Azriel was reassured but only in part. Sometimes, she could be as mischievous as Kieran when the situation suited. He’d have to be on his guard.
The crowd tugged them toward a huge arena, the open pit in the middle where the duel was to take place. The roughly circular arena was bracketed by wooden seating but it was reserved for the nobles. Commoners had to stand on the grassy slopes surrounding it, perfectly angled to aid in viewing.
The pit below was hard-packed dirt, carefully cleared of loose stones. Boundaries had been laid by loose chalk. The two duelists were already present, examining their weapons and ignoring each other's presence. This was customary before a challenge duel. Acknowledgment wouldn't be giving until proper introductions were made by the neutral referee.
Harper chose a position midway up the slope, and the rest of them joined her. The sun was behind them, warming their backs. The crowd buzzed with excitement, and Azriel could hear the sounds of bets being subtly made as he scanned around, hoping to spot the rest of his family. His mother wouldn’t be here unless she’d volunteered to be the onsite healer. But Adair was over at the sidelines next to his sister-in-law, both clearly waiting in the area reserved for his twin’s entourage. Rather unsurprisingly, Asher was not with him, but Lyra’s older sister Ione was present and speaking with one of the Celestine retainers.
Azriel had a second to consider that before a man dressed in stately robes edged with gold had walked to the middle of the arena. He held up his hands, wordlessly calling for silence from the gathered crowd. The message was spread throughout until quiet reigned, people plopping down onto the grass and settling in for the show.
“People of Talemar, of Meropis,” the man announced, voice loud and clear. “A challenge has been made. A challenge of pride. A challenge in honor of His Lordship. A challenge that has been accepted.”
He lowered his hands and gestured to his right. To where a tall man with dusky skin and narrowed eyes stood arrogant and sleek.
“Today, Lord Valtare Misae has brought steel and pride into this arena. He offers a challenge. He asks for second blood and right to honor.”
A low murmur swept through the crowd. Second blood would allow genuinely harmful strikes though lethal ones were forbidden. Right to honor was not unexpected. Misae wanted to brag when he was through.
Azriel, however, didn't believe for one moment that his uncle would be bested. Misae would be handed a sound defeat, and the lord would be lucky if Aidan didn't humiliate him in the process.
The announcer then gestured to his left. “Lord Aidan Celestine has accepted the challenge and the terms. He asks for a return of obeisance.”
Again. Not unexpected. The challenged should always ask for a return if they win the challenge. Something to repay the waste of time. But asking for obeisance? Clearly, Aidan had not been happy about the challenge and had only accepted on account it was to be presented on His Holiness' Day. Obviously, Aidan intended to show Misae how little he respected the other lord.
“My lords,” the announcer said with a graceful bow. “Choose your weapons.”
An assortment of armaments had been arranged for convenience's sake. But these men were nobles; they’d have their own blades. Weapons passed down through generations, no doubt, each with a history.
Azriel knew that his uncle favored the sabre, something sturdy and quick, capable of more elegant movements. And sure enough, Aidan had brought his trusted blade to the arena. Even from this distance, Azriel could see the brilliantly crimson fabric wrapped around the hilt – his uncle's favorite color.
Lord Misae, it seemed, preferred something a bit heavier. The halfhand sword was stronger but incapable of intricate motions. It’d have less range of movement and cause him to tire quicker. But each blow would count and against the thinner, lighter saber could have disastrous consequences.
“And now, my lords, by your leave, you may begin.”
The announcer all but fled from the arena, and the two at last turned to face each other, silently measuring. Quiet swept through the entire area. From this distance, Azriel could see nothing of his uncle's expression. But he imagined Aidan was looking forward to meeting the challenge. Aidan held his sword, tip pointed toward the dirt, his posture relaxed.
His opponent, Valtare Misae, appeared tense. He gripped his halfhand in both hands. His shoulders were high and tight, his braided hair hanging down his back.
Lord Aidan held more patience; Misae was the first to break.
He sprang forward, sword raised high. Lord Aidan snapped into motion, rapier lifted to counter. It whistled through the air before the two blades collided with a sharp noise. For a moment, Azriel feared Aidan's sword would shatter, but the blade held.
Edges shifted, screeching together until Misae broke away. He slashed at Aidan, but Azriel's uncle twisted out of the way. They exchanged a few blows, Aidan's casual defense in great contrast to Misae's excessive force. To the untrained eye, it seemed Aidan was being pushed into retreat.
Azriel knew his uncle much better than that. Aidan was simply leading Misae into a better position, a calculating gleam in his eyes. Azriel sat forward, watching their byplay with an eager curiosity. Beside him, Harper and Kieran displayed the same enthusiasm. Titania seemed more interested in her fingernails.
Misae 's impatience once against worked against him. He drew back, aiming a harsh blow at Aidan, but the lord spun out of the way, boots scraping against the dirt. Misae's sword cut through empty air as Aidan twisted and found himself behind his adversary, raising a hand to knock hilt against Misae's back. The darker noble stumbled forward as a wave of titters spread through the crowd.
“Lord Aidan's playing with him,” Kieran murmured.
“Of course he is,” Harper replied with a snort. “Lord Valtare knows he has no chance against Lord Aidan. I don't understand why he thought it’d be a good idea to challenge him.”
“Maybe he lost a bet,” Titania suggested from Azriel's other side, idly stretching and patting out wrinkles in her clothing. This entire exercise held very little interest for her.
“Or more likely, Lord Misae was pressured by his kin to obtain boasting rights,” Azriel said, trying to focus on the battle at hand.
Though Misae had stumbled, he hadn’t fallen. He turned quickly, his blade meeting Aidan's with a ringing sound. They were exchanging blows until Aidan danced to the side, saber flashing out and cutting across Misae's cheek. Blood slowly trickled out of the thin wound, and Misae's eyes narrowed with fury.
“Hmmm.” Harper thumbed her chin. “The Misae are terribly obsessed with their pride.”
Thankfully, Yonah wasn’t present to hear that one. Especially when Kieran made a sound in his throat.
“Wouldn’t we know?” he half-stated, half-asked rhetorically.
But no one bothered to reply. They were all too enthralled in watching Aidan make short and embarrassing work of his opponent. Even Titania looked up at the titter of laughter from the crowd as Misae earned another swat to the behind, followed by a boot that sent him to his hands and knees. Azriel wasn’t sure if he should cover his face or laugh as he watched his uncle disarm Misae and then very casually lean down to tap the flat edge of his sword on the man’s head. Misae didn’t even have time to splutter at that before a second cut went to his cheek.
It took several minutes for the announcer to quiet the following roar of the crowd. By that time Misae was on his feet and scowling profoundly. Azriel’s uncle just offered him a serene smile before giving a wave to everyone around, and if his gaze searched around for his kin in the process… well, nobody seemed to mind, and no one commented when brown eyes finally spotted Azriel half-hidden as he was and Aidan gave a firm nod.
“The vote is unanimous,” the announcer declared sometime later when he could actually be heard. “Lord Aidan Celestine is the clear victor.”
Cheers erupted around the arena yet again. Azriel wasn't surprised when Kieran joined the crowd, clapping and hollering with the rest.
“Impressive,” Harper remarked. “Who was his teacher?”
“Both he and Lord Adair trained under Master Will. You can guess who was the better student.”
Pride welled up within Azriel. He didn't mention that his uncles were passing their training onto him as well.
“Lucky.” Harper sounded envious. “He won't take students anymore. I already tried.”
Warm fingers curled around Azriel's own. “That was worth it, I suppose,” Titania whispered, leaning in close, her body soft against his.
“It's always a treat to watch Lord Aidan in action. He so rarely accepts duels,” Azriel agreed.
His uncles were both the more skilled in swords, but they were less likely to boast about it. Unlike Asher who took every chance he had to proclaim his abilities.
“He's got skills,” Kieran inserted with a grin.
Harper rolled her eyes. “All right, fan boy. Enough of that. It's time for His Lordship's retelling.”
“Do we have to go? It's not like the story has changed.” Kieran pouted.
“He has a point,” Titania murmured as she squeezed Azriel's arm. “Personally, I'm not against leaving early.” Her gaze cut to Kieran before returning to Azriel. “I wouldn't mind a bit of personal time.”
Azriel's brows lifted as her implications struck home. “I was not inclined to attend in the first place. If you are ready to leave then so am I.”
Titania grinned.
Harper whistled at them. “All right you two. Keep it safe for all eyes.”
“I don't know. I think they might have the right idea.” Kieran tapped his chin thoughtfully, shifting his gaze to Harper.
Azriel shook his head. “You two can keep your insinuations. We are leaving.”
“See you later.” Titania waggled her fingers, already turning to pull Azriel with her.
“Bye!” Kieran called after them, sounding far too amused.
Azriel was quite certain he was in for a lot of teasing later.
****
a/n: Two more chapters left in part one. And then begins the fun of part two.
Feedback is very, very welcome.
Title: The Break of Day
Series: Infinity's End, Prequel
Summary: A friendship that takes everyone by surprise slowly evolves into a deeper bond as Azriel, illegitimate son of the house Celestine, and Kieran, heir to the house Azura, throw themselves into the heart of a building altercation that explodes into an all out revolution.
(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (18) (19) (20)
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Part One: Chapter Eighteen
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Part One: Chapter Eighteen
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November 25th, 1980
“What do you mean you're not going?”
Azriel barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes.
“I have work to do. I don't have time for revelry.”
Titania scoffed. “I don't believe that for a second. This is the only day out of the entire year that no one has any duties.”
“You forget emergency personnel.”
“Transcribing an old manuscript is not an emergency,” she retorted and leaned forward, planting her palm in the middle of the paper. “What's the real reason, Azriel?”
He leaned back, giving up the pretense of work.
“I've not attended His Holiness' celebration since I was a child. I just don't have any interest in that sort of thing.”
Especially since he didn't believe in the deified state of their so-called king. But Azriel couldn't say that. Such words were grounds for execution. It seemed he was always dancing a fine line of death, wasn't he?
“I'll bet Kieran is going.”
“I'm sure he is. I, however, am not.”
Titania sighed, bracing herself on the arms of his chair.
“I'm not going without you.”
His brow crinkled. Such words weren't really the way to convince him. Only Kieran seemed to have perfected the forlorn look that could guilt Azriel into agreeing.
“I want you to come,” she added. “It's a rare chance to relax. For both of us.” Her thumb stretched out to stroke over his arm. “You could use the break.”
His stubborn refusal faltered. Had he been neglecting her?
“You know I don't enjoy noisy gatherings.”
“We don't have to stay the entire time. But making an appearance is important. Honoring His Highness is important.”
Azriel barely wiped away the scowl before it could surface. He cared nothing for honoring the false deity. But Titania couldn't know that.
He let out a breath.
“Very well. I will attend. But only for an hour or two.”
“Thank you.” She straightened a bit, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Shall we go?”
Azriel turned his head, capturing her lips before she could pull back.
“Yes,” he said in between kisses. “Right now if you want.”
“I want.”
Titania smiled warmly, her eyes glinting with mischief. Resigned, Azriel forced himself out of his chair and away from his desk. He shrugged into his jacket and followed her into a chilly, damp afternoon. It was early enough that the sun had yet to set.
The streets were filled with happy chatter; streamers were hung from rooftop to eaves. Committees had been decorating for weeks, and it showed. It would probably take them just as long to remove all the decorations. Closed signs hung in storefronts. Children laughed as they chased each other with pretend weapons, acting out a story they had all heard from their childhood.
Azriel could nearly recite it himself.
It was the same legend which would take center stage in the theater today. A condensed version would be used at the official ceremonies. Songs would extol His Lordship's greatness. They’d drink and eat in his name, give thanks for the life they'd been granted.
Lies. It was all of it lies. And the populace would never know.
Titania threaded her arm through his. Her cheer evident in her tone.
“Any preferences or do you plan to let me lead you by the horns?”
“Your choice, my dear.”
“I thought as much.” She hummed. “They're playing music in the square. Maybe dancing?”
Azriel winced. “Are you in want of bruised toes?”
“Not so graceful then. Well, we have some time to kill until the dedication. We have to do something.”
Sighing, Azriel scanned the crowded streets. He sought something inoffensive and least celebratory. He spied a small tea shop open for business, no doubt offering its wares for free as many shopkeepers did for this celebration.
“I could use something warm to drink,” Azriel said and curled his hand around hers. “Tea?”
“Do they have snacks?” She squeezed his hand, threading their fingers.
Azriel laughed. “Now you sound like Kieran. It wouldn't hurt to check.”
He tucked Titania to his side, and they threaded through the crowd, heading for the small shop with a huge set up for outdoor seating. There were snacks available: small puffy pastries filled with a light cream. They chose an unoccupied table, and Azriel pulled out a chair for Titania. Before they could even get settled, a young man came their way, bearing a tray.
“Happy Holiness Day!” the waiter greeted cheerfully. “Today we're offering a black chai with cinnamon accents. And of course, our famous cream puffs.”
“Sounds great.” Titania accepted cup and saucer as they were served. “Thanks.”
The server grinned. “You're welcome. Enjoy!”
He was gone in a flash, off to serve the next customer. No doubt he was either the owner himself or perhaps a son. Employers were forbidden from requiring their employees to work on this day after all. Keeping it within the family though was perfectly acceptable.
Azriel lifted his cup, testing the aroma of the tea. It was strong, a hint of dark spice.
Intriguing.
“What do you think?” Titania asked.
Azriel dared a sip. “It's different but not unpleasant.”
The warmth was most welcome. The cold air caused his breath to emerge in a briefly visible fog.
“I like it.” She plucked a pastry from the small tray and popped it into her mouth. “Mmm. These, too. They aren't that sweet either. You'd like them.”
He took her word for it and settled comfortably into his chair, shifting his gaze to the passing populace. Everyone looked happy for the celebration. But of course, they were unaware of the truth, knowing only the lies they'd been fed.
As far as they knew, the land had once been dark and infested with demons of a most unsavory sort. They’d crawled across the earth like darkness given life. The world had been filled with hatred and misery, poison seeping out of every crack and opening.
And then, there was light. His Holiness had appeared, descending from on high to strike down the demons, driving them from the land. They’d fled from the power of his might. The darkness receded, leaving behind a verdant land, a place where the good could live and prosper. His Kingship then created his people to cultivate the newly won paradise.
He formed the people from clay and water, shaped them with fire, and breathed life into them. By his grace, the people of Talemar were gifted the land while the demons were banished to the desolate outskirts where they could hurt no one.
The demons would later be given a name: the Merihem. And their cursed land: the Varos Flats.
His Holiness' birthday celebrated the day that their god descended, choosing to live with what he had created rather than watch from afar. It was considered a joyous occasion.
It was all a lie.
If Azriel hadn't met Manah, he would’ve gone on believing those lies for the rest of his life. He loathed that he had ever bore such ignorance.
“Azriel?”
He stirred. “I'm sorry. I was thinking.”
“I noticed,” Titania teased gently. “Anything you care to share?”
Azriel shook his head, reaching for one of the pastries.
“Nothing interesting. How's the tea?”
“Delicious.” Her eyes flicked upward, and she smiled.
Darkness fell over Azriel's eyes, warm fingers pressing to his face and something leaning against his back. Azriel stiffened.
“Guess who,” a familiar voice sing-songed.
Titania laughed; Azriel relaxed.
He reached up, removing the offending hands. “Kieran. Nice to see you.”
The hands landed on his shoulders as Kieran's face appeared directly on his right. Naturally, he wore a roguish grin.
“Fancy running into you here.”
“You say that like it was an accident,” another person inserted with a snort. “You've spent the last two hours looking for him.”
Kieran pouted. “It wasn't nearly that long.”
“Felt like it.”
Azriel looked to the left where Harper swaggered into view. She plopped herself down at an empty seat, sword rattling at her side.
“She doesn't know what she's talking about,” Kieran muttered with an offended sniff.
“Hello, Harper,” Azriel said, ignoring Kiean's usual drama. “I’m surprised you weren't drafted for crowd control.”
She waved a dismissive hand. “Nah. I'm one of the few who missed that joyous assignment.”
“She's got Diana's Luck,” Kieran said with a sage nod before he grinned at Azriel's companion. “Titania! It's been awhile!”
“Several months.” Titania smiled, amused as always by Kieran's unending energy. She found him charming. “You've been busy with the Conservatory?”
Kieran rolled his eyes. “You know it. Seniors have more work than anyone. Greater expectations, too. It sucks.”
Harper jerked a thumb in Kieran's direction. “And procrastinator over here refuses to finalize his plans.
“Oh? You don't want to join the Jeode?” Titania asked in all innocence.
“I haven't decided yet.”
Kieran crossed his arms petulantly. He didn't like discussing his indecision, nor did he like being reminded of it. Azriel sensed this conversation was heading in a distinctly disastrous direction.
“And sooner or later, Lord Azura will make that choice for you,” Harper put in.
Kieran's eyes narrowed in a manner that Azriel had come to recognize all too well. He hurried to intervene.
“Where's everyone else?” he asked, hoping to avoid the arrival of Kieran's irritation. Which would inevitably lead to a world class sulk and then none of them would have any fun.
Harper shrugged. “I lost Yonah in the crowd. Souya and Lyra snuck away when we weren't looking.” She winked. “I guess they wanted some alone time.
Which, Azriel noticed, was becoming more and more frequent now that their budding relationship had been outed to their friends. Then again, the only time Souya and Lyra could openly display their relationship was when they were among friends.
“What about you?” Kieran leaned forward eagerly. “Planning on doing anything interesting?”
“We don't know. I'm leaving that up to Titania.” Azriel shook his head.
She grinned. “I couldn't get him to dance, but maybe he can be convinced to do a little shopping with me.”
The server from before returned, refreshing Azriel and Titania's tea while bringing cups and sweets for the new arrivals.
“Shopping?” Kieran burst into laughter. “Azriel hates shopping.”
“I'm right here you know.”
Harper popped a cream puff into her mouth, chomping noisily. Both she and Kieran had the habit of losing their manners whenever they felt like it.
“You know, the weapons exhibition starts in about twenty minutes. I hear Lord Valtare's challenged Lord Aidan.”
Azriel sat up straighter. He hadn't heard about this. Neither of his uncles had mentioned such a thing! If he'd known, he wouldn't have dug his heels in about coming to this ridiculous celebration.
“Has he lost his mind?” Titania’s jaw dropped in stunned surprise. “Lord Aidan hasn't lost a challenge by blade in two decades!”
Neither had Lord Adair for that matter, but he was less likely to accept a bladed challenge. Of the brothers, Aidan was the more militarily inclined.
Kieran sipped noisily at his tea. “Only because his brother refuses to accept an open duel. Right Azriel?” Both dark eyebrows rose pointedly.
Azriel cast his dear friend a warning look. Kieran knew full well that he didn't like talking about his familial relations, especially around Titania who remained ignorant of Azriel's origins.
“You must mean Lord Adair as Lord Asher's skills have yet to match his younger brother's.”
Harper sucked down her tea in one huge gulp, popped another pastry into her mouth, and shot to her feet. “Well, I'm interested in seeing Misae's ego get taken down a few notches. Want to come with?”
It was a much better option than dancing or shopping for sure. Though it was also not Azriel's decision alone to make.
“I'm in.” Kieran grabbed the last of the pastries and stuffed a few into his pockets. “Azriel?”
He looked at Titania, who gave a long, playful sigh as she rose to her feet. “We're both coming,” she said and flicked her long hair over her shoulder.
“Then we'd better get a move on, or we'll miss the introductions,” Harper announced, slinging her arm over Kieran's shoulders and tucking him against her side.
Azriel offered his arm to Titania. “Shall we?”
“We shall.”
Her arm linked through his, and they joined Harper in the streaming crowd. Luckily, the press of people seemed to be heading in the same general direction, which made navigating much easier.
“Thank you,” Azriel said to his... girlfriend? Lover wasn't appropriate quite yet, but the former term sounded so juvenile. “I know you have little interest in swordplay.
Titania squeezed his arm. “I decided it was only fair since I badgered you to come in the first place. But after this, it's my choice. Yes?”
What in Talemar had he gotten himself into? Azriel had sudden visions of himself on aching feet as they wandered from shop to shop. Or worse, danced. Then again, Titania could be quite devious. Perhaps she had something more insidious in mind. Still, fair was fair.
“Yes.”
Titania chuckled. “Don't worry. It won't involve either of the things Kieran believes you to hate.”
Azriel was reassured but only in part. Sometimes, she could be as mischievous as Kieran when the situation suited. He’d have to be on his guard.
The crowd tugged them toward a huge arena, the open pit in the middle where the duel was to take place. The roughly circular arena was bracketed by wooden seating but it was reserved for the nobles. Commoners had to stand on the grassy slopes surrounding it, perfectly angled to aid in viewing.
The pit below was hard-packed dirt, carefully cleared of loose stones. Boundaries had been laid by loose chalk. The two duelists were already present, examining their weapons and ignoring each other's presence. This was customary before a challenge duel. Acknowledgment wouldn't be giving until proper introductions were made by the neutral referee.
Harper chose a position midway up the slope, and the rest of them joined her. The sun was behind them, warming their backs. The crowd buzzed with excitement, and Azriel could hear the sounds of bets being subtly made as he scanned around, hoping to spot the rest of his family. His mother wouldn’t be here unless she’d volunteered to be the onsite healer. But Adair was over at the sidelines next to his sister-in-law, both clearly waiting in the area reserved for his twin’s entourage. Rather unsurprisingly, Asher was not with him, but Lyra’s older sister Ione was present and speaking with one of the Celestine retainers.
Azriel had a second to consider that before a man dressed in stately robes edged with gold had walked to the middle of the arena. He held up his hands, wordlessly calling for silence from the gathered crowd. The message was spread throughout until quiet reigned, people plopping down onto the grass and settling in for the show.
“People of Talemar, of Meropis,” the man announced, voice loud and clear. “A challenge has been made. A challenge of pride. A challenge in honor of His Lordship. A challenge that has been accepted.”
He lowered his hands and gestured to his right. To where a tall man with dusky skin and narrowed eyes stood arrogant and sleek.
“Today, Lord Valtare Misae has brought steel and pride into this arena. He offers a challenge. He asks for second blood and right to honor.”
A low murmur swept through the crowd. Second blood would allow genuinely harmful strikes though lethal ones were forbidden. Right to honor was not unexpected. Misae wanted to brag when he was through.
Azriel, however, didn't believe for one moment that his uncle would be bested. Misae would be handed a sound defeat, and the lord would be lucky if Aidan didn't humiliate him in the process.
The announcer then gestured to his left. “Lord Aidan Celestine has accepted the challenge and the terms. He asks for a return of obeisance.”
Again. Not unexpected. The challenged should always ask for a return if they win the challenge. Something to repay the waste of time. But asking for obeisance? Clearly, Aidan had not been happy about the challenge and had only accepted on account it was to be presented on His Holiness' Day. Obviously, Aidan intended to show Misae how little he respected the other lord.
“My lords,” the announcer said with a graceful bow. “Choose your weapons.”
An assortment of armaments had been arranged for convenience's sake. But these men were nobles; they’d have their own blades. Weapons passed down through generations, no doubt, each with a history.
Azriel knew that his uncle favored the sabre, something sturdy and quick, capable of more elegant movements. And sure enough, Aidan had brought his trusted blade to the arena. Even from this distance, Azriel could see the brilliantly crimson fabric wrapped around the hilt – his uncle's favorite color.
Lord Misae, it seemed, preferred something a bit heavier. The halfhand sword was stronger but incapable of intricate motions. It’d have less range of movement and cause him to tire quicker. But each blow would count and against the thinner, lighter saber could have disastrous consequences.
“And now, my lords, by your leave, you may begin.”
The announcer all but fled from the arena, and the two at last turned to face each other, silently measuring. Quiet swept through the entire area. From this distance, Azriel could see nothing of his uncle's expression. But he imagined Aidan was looking forward to meeting the challenge. Aidan held his sword, tip pointed toward the dirt, his posture relaxed.
His opponent, Valtare Misae, appeared tense. He gripped his halfhand in both hands. His shoulders were high and tight, his braided hair hanging down his back.
Lord Aidan held more patience; Misae was the first to break.
He sprang forward, sword raised high. Lord Aidan snapped into motion, rapier lifted to counter. It whistled through the air before the two blades collided with a sharp noise. For a moment, Azriel feared Aidan's sword would shatter, but the blade held.
Edges shifted, screeching together until Misae broke away. He slashed at Aidan, but Azriel's uncle twisted out of the way. They exchanged a few blows, Aidan's casual defense in great contrast to Misae's excessive force. To the untrained eye, it seemed Aidan was being pushed into retreat.
Azriel knew his uncle much better than that. Aidan was simply leading Misae into a better position, a calculating gleam in his eyes. Azriel sat forward, watching their byplay with an eager curiosity. Beside him, Harper and Kieran displayed the same enthusiasm. Titania seemed more interested in her fingernails.
Misae 's impatience once against worked against him. He drew back, aiming a harsh blow at Aidan, but the lord spun out of the way, boots scraping against the dirt. Misae's sword cut through empty air as Aidan twisted and found himself behind his adversary, raising a hand to knock hilt against Misae's back. The darker noble stumbled forward as a wave of titters spread through the crowd.
“Lord Aidan's playing with him,” Kieran murmured.
“Of course he is,” Harper replied with a snort. “Lord Valtare knows he has no chance against Lord Aidan. I don't understand why he thought it’d be a good idea to challenge him.”
“Maybe he lost a bet,” Titania suggested from Azriel's other side, idly stretching and patting out wrinkles in her clothing. This entire exercise held very little interest for her.
“Or more likely, Lord Misae was pressured by his kin to obtain boasting rights,” Azriel said, trying to focus on the battle at hand.
Though Misae had stumbled, he hadn’t fallen. He turned quickly, his blade meeting Aidan's with a ringing sound. They were exchanging blows until Aidan danced to the side, saber flashing out and cutting across Misae's cheek. Blood slowly trickled out of the thin wound, and Misae's eyes narrowed with fury.
“Hmmm.” Harper thumbed her chin. “The Misae are terribly obsessed with their pride.”
Thankfully, Yonah wasn’t present to hear that one. Especially when Kieran made a sound in his throat.
“Wouldn’t we know?” he half-stated, half-asked rhetorically.
But no one bothered to reply. They were all too enthralled in watching Aidan make short and embarrassing work of his opponent. Even Titania looked up at the titter of laughter from the crowd as Misae earned another swat to the behind, followed by a boot that sent him to his hands and knees. Azriel wasn’t sure if he should cover his face or laugh as he watched his uncle disarm Misae and then very casually lean down to tap the flat edge of his sword on the man’s head. Misae didn’t even have time to splutter at that before a second cut went to his cheek.
It took several minutes for the announcer to quiet the following roar of the crowd. By that time Misae was on his feet and scowling profoundly. Azriel’s uncle just offered him a serene smile before giving a wave to everyone around, and if his gaze searched around for his kin in the process… well, nobody seemed to mind, and no one commented when brown eyes finally spotted Azriel half-hidden as he was and Aidan gave a firm nod.
“The vote is unanimous,” the announcer declared sometime later when he could actually be heard. “Lord Aidan Celestine is the clear victor.”
Cheers erupted around the arena yet again. Azriel wasn't surprised when Kieran joined the crowd, clapping and hollering with the rest.
“Impressive,” Harper remarked. “Who was his teacher?”
“Both he and Lord Adair trained under Master Will. You can guess who was the better student.”
Pride welled up within Azriel. He didn't mention that his uncles were passing their training onto him as well.
“Lucky.” Harper sounded envious. “He won't take students anymore. I already tried.”
Warm fingers curled around Azriel's own. “That was worth it, I suppose,” Titania whispered, leaning in close, her body soft against his.
“It's always a treat to watch Lord Aidan in action. He so rarely accepts duels,” Azriel agreed.
His uncles were both the more skilled in swords, but they were less likely to boast about it. Unlike Asher who took every chance he had to proclaim his abilities.
“He's got skills,” Kieran inserted with a grin.
Harper rolled her eyes. “All right, fan boy. Enough of that. It's time for His Lordship's retelling.”
“Do we have to go? It's not like the story has changed.” Kieran pouted.
“He has a point,” Titania murmured as she squeezed Azriel's arm. “Personally, I'm not against leaving early.” Her gaze cut to Kieran before returning to Azriel. “I wouldn't mind a bit of personal time.”
Azriel's brows lifted as her implications struck home. “I was not inclined to attend in the first place. If you are ready to leave then so am I.”
Titania grinned.
Harper whistled at them. “All right you two. Keep it safe for all eyes.”
“I don't know. I think they might have the right idea.” Kieran tapped his chin thoughtfully, shifting his gaze to Harper.
Azriel shook his head. “You two can keep your insinuations. We are leaving.”
“See you later.” Titania waggled her fingers, already turning to pull Azriel with her.
“Bye!” Kieran called after them, sounding far too amused.
Azriel was quite certain he was in for a lot of teasing later.
a/n: Two more chapters left in part one. And then begins the fun of part two.
Feedback is very, very welcome.