Chapter 5 - The Mid-Summer Festival
Submitted January 7, 2005 Updated January 24, 2006 Status Incomplete | Two young girls get taken to a magical place where they have to take on the roles of their other selves. But what really awaits them in this land called Arasya? The story you've all been waiting for! Read and tell me if I should continue!
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Chapter 5 - The Mid-Summer Festival
Chapter 5 - The Mid-Summer Festival
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The day of the Mid-Summer Festival had finally arrived
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The day of the Mid-Summer Festival had finally arrived. The town was beautiful, and all the houses were decorated for the festivities. Banners of fabric and strings of paper lanterns hung across the streets, connecting from one house to another. Each house was adorned with brightly colored flowers and fabrics, hanging from the windows. Venders with food and jewelry and costumes from other Kingdoms lined the streets below, decorated with beautiful fabrics and brightly colored flowers; the aromas of the foods were drifting through the air, inviting all to eat. Everyone, from nobles to peasants, was dressed in splendid costumes from one of the Four Kingdoms- Arasya, Hasarii, Kotauru, and Shioa- with matching masks. Everything was set in place for the festival to begin at dusk.
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In the palace, Shyra was in her room, tying the strings on her dress. In the three days since Ypae had obtained her protectors, Trisa had been sewing Shyra's dress and working on the finishing touches. Shyra couldn't complain, even if the dress that she wore was pink. She stroked her throat in boredom; it hadn't taken her long to get dressed. She walked over to the armoire and looked through it, and found a shelf above where the dresses hung. On the shelf was an assortment of jewels and head ornaments, all of which were beautiful and adorned with jewels of various colors. All of them were too extravagant for Shyra's liking, and she closed the armoire doors with a sigh.
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Someone knocked on the framework of her door. “Shyra? Are you decent?” they asked.
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“Yeah, Azshiu,” she responded. “You can come in.”
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Azshiu opened the door and Shyra's heat began to beat faster. He was dressed in traditional Shioan clothing, as was expected, and they suited him perfectly. He wore a violet-gray tunic trimmed in gold over a white shirt and breeches; a gold sash adorned with a midnight blue jewel was around his waist. He also wore shoulder armor, a midnight blue cape cascading down his back and nearly touching the floor; connecting the armor was a gold chain with three gems placed on it; brown boots covered his feet. To finish the outfit, a midnight blue mask was set on his face, framing his violet eyes. She looked him up and down, color almost spreading across her cheeks. He was <i>handsome. </i>
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“Wow,” he said, chuckling. “You can actually pass as a lady.” He leaned on the doorway and looked at her, his eyes dancing with laughter.
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Shyra placed her fits on her hips. “Oh, ha, ha. Very funny,” she said.
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He smiled and walked over to her. “Here,” he said, pulling something from underneath his sash. It was a necklace, a pendant hanging from a long silver chain. Shyra took the pendant in her hand and examined it; on the back of it was an inscription in Arasyian. “It's a charm of protection,” he said. “As long as you have it on, no harm can come to you, whether it's from magic, a hand crafted weapon, or from a human.”
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“T-thank you,” she said, a little taken a back by the gift. “But why would I need it?”
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“Well, I figured that since more people know about you and Kiyera, you two would be more likely to be targeted,” he said. “You never know when it will come in handy.”
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“You're right,” she sighed. “Thank you.” She took it from his hands and draped it around her neck, trying to clasp it together. “Stupid clasp,” she muttered, still fumbling with it.
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“Here,” Azshiu said as he stepped behind her and took the chain from her hands and hooked it together; it came down to about an inch below the top of her dress. “There you go,” he said. “Now, are you ready to go to the festival?”
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Shyra smiled and nodded. “Yeah,” she said. Grabbing the pair of matching slippers next to the mirror, she slipped them on and walked out of her room. “Are we meeting up with everyone else?” she asked.
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“Yes,” he said. “They're probably already down at the festival though.” He chuckled as he said, “Except maybe Ypae. She and Ares always took forever to decide on what to wear. Oh, that reminds me.” Azshiu reached into his pant's pocket and pulled out a light pink mask, trimmed with silver. Handing it to Shyra, he said, “Trisa just finished your mask. It'll look nice with your dress.” He looked at her and smiled. The thought of her being in a dress, which she hated so much, amused him greatly.
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She snatched it from his hands and put it on. “You have too much free time to annoy me,” she retorted; he laughed in response.
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They walked through the hallways until they reached outside, the red sun setting behind the mountains. Kiyera and Bain, both dressed in traditional Kotauran clothes, were waiting for them in front of the palace; Ypae, Xyza, and Keyon still had not arrived. Kiyera wore layered kimonos with an elegant <i>obi </i>around her waist, while Bain wore a kimono type tunic with a matching cape and armor.
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“Well, don't you two make a cute couple?” Shyra joked. Both Kiyera and Bain turned a shade of pink. Shyra and Kiyera looked directly at each other, their eyes connecting, but they didn't say anything to each other.
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Azshiu noticed the tension between the two, and said, “So, Princess Ypae and her protectors haven't shown up yet?”
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“No,” Bain said. “Not yet.” He looked up at the palace. “It can't take <i>that </i>long to get dressed,” he muttered. As if right on cue, Ypae and her protectors walked down the path from the palace and arrived in front of them. Ypae and Keyon, sticking true to their Kingdom, were dressed in traditional Arasyian clothing. Ypae wore a beautiful violet and blue dress that flowed out around her waist, the hem of the dress just touching the ground; Keyon was dressed similar to Azshiu, the Shioan and Arasyian cultures being closely tied with one another, but his outfit was a dark green color. Xyza, meanwhile, wore Hasariian clothing, her long black hair cascading down her back. The dress was form fitting, showing off her toned figure, and was made of burgundy silk with a black and gold trim; she wore gold bangle bracelets and a gold necklace to complete the look. Greeting each other, they walked down into the town as the sun set behind the horizon.
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All of the town's residents were already at the festival, enjoying all the things that it had to offer, bustling about from booth to booth looking at jewelry and costumes, and eating the food. Performers were in the streets, leaping and dancing around, weaving their way through the crowds of people. The festival awed Shyra and Kiyera, never seeing one so grand in their world. Everything was colorful and beautiful, and everyone was happy.
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One performance made Shyra stop in the street. Her eyes lay upon a large wooden stage with four posts at each corner; patterned silk fabric hung between each post, framing the stage. In the back left hand corner were two musicians; one had a drum in front of them while the other held a <i>kotsuzumi, </i>a type of guitar. In the center of the stage was a beautiful woman, her long black hair swept back into a low bun decorated with jewels. Her face was decorated with beautiful makeup, her full lips painted red, and her catlike eyes rimmed with gold, black, and red shadow. She wore two long, layered kimonos that hung off her shoulders, with long sleeves that nearly touched the ground. Around her waist was an ornate <i>obi </i>that tied in a large bow in the back; a jewel was placed on the cord that went around her <i>obi. </i>In her hands, she held two beautiful <i>riahas </i>made with gold and white silk, and dark wood.
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Shyra looked at the <i>riaha </i>dancer in awe, as the drummer and <i>kotsuzumi</i> player began to play out the melody, the dancer getting into the starting position. Slowly, she spun the <i>riahas </i>in her hands, tossing them into the air and then catching them, spinning her body around as the music began to quicken. Her kimonos flowed around her as she moved across the stage, moving her feet and body in complex patterns, tossing the <i>riahas</i> into the air and catching them, spinning them in her hands.
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Shyra was so awed by the dancer, she didn't notice Azshiu step next to her, watching the performance with her. The dancer finished by spinning her arms in a circular motion, dipping and turning her body until she was back at the center of the stage. She tossed the <i>riahas</i> into the air and collapsed onto the stage. Swiftly but gracefully, she sat up and raised her hands, catching the <i>riahas</i>. In a final display of skill, she twirled them with her hands, threw one up into the air, and then caught it again in her hand. She finished the dance by crossing her arms, the <i>riahas</i> fully displayed with her eyes peaking out over the tops of them; the drummer and <i>kotsuzumi</i> player finished the tune, and the crowd in front of the stag applauded loudly. The <i>riaha</i> dancer closed the <i>riahas</i> and placed them within her sleeve. She then bent over and bowed, her hands out in front of her with the tips of her index and middle fingers touching.
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“She was amazing,” Shyra breathed. The <i>riaha</i> dancer stood up and walked over to the <i>kotsuzumi</i> player and drummer, talking to them about what music they should play next.
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“Yes, she was,” Azshiu said. “The <i>riaha</i> dance originated from the Kingdom of Kotauru, did you know that?” Shyra shook her head in response. “Come on, Shyra,” he said to her. “There's much more of the festival to see.” She nodded and followed him away from the stage, as the <i>riaha</i> dancer prepared for her next dance. Shyra continued to look at her in awe, silently wishing that someday she could be just as graceful and beautiful.
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Around midnight, the festival was coming to a close. As a finale, the crowds of people grouped together and gazed upon the display of fireworks. Up the fireworks shot, then making a loud <i>crack! </i>as they exploded in a brilliant display of colors, reflecting off the gazing eyes of the bystanders.
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Near the middle of the fireworks display, Azshiu got an uneasy feeling in his gut. He felt like he sensed something- or someone- watching him and his companions. He looked around at the town, at the rooftops, windows, and open areas of streets, but he saw nothing.
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Shyra looked up at him as she noticed he was restless. “What's wrong?” she shouted to him, as another set of fireworks crackled in the sky.
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He looked back down at her, and shook his head. “It's nothing,” he shouted back. But that uneasy feeling was still in his gut, and he continued to look around the town for a while. Shyra, every once in a while, would shoot a glance back up at him to make sure that he was all right.
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As another set of fireworks finished, a loud shriek erupted from the crowd. Shyra, Azshiu, and the rest of the crowds looked behind them. Another set of fireworks illuminated the ten cloaked figures standing behind the crowd; seven of them drew their swords and advanced towards the crowd, while the remaining three placed their hands out in front of them and produced fireballs, shooting them at the buildings. The townspeople went into an instant state of chaos like wild animals, all running away from the cloaked figures together in a mass of people.
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Shyra looked to her left and saw Keyon and Bain draw their swords; Xyza protectively stood in front of Ypae, and Kiyera stood behind Bain. Shyra looked back at Azshiu, and saw his magic form in his left hand as he reached for her with his right. Before she could grab his hand, however, she was engulfed by the frightened crowd and was separated from Azshiu.
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Frantically, she tried to move through the crowds, trying to get back to Azshiu. Noticing that she had been separated from him, Azshiu's magic disappeared and he made his way towards her, running through the mass of people and pushing aside anyone that was in his way.
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“Azshiu!” she cried as she stretched her hand out for him to take. In a desperate attempt to reach her, Azshiu stretched his hand out. For a brief second, their fingers brushed each other's, then a man knocked Shyra out of Azshiu's reach, and she was off in the crowds again.
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“No!” Azshiu cried. “Shyra!”
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Shyra elbowed her way through the crowds, going against the flow of people. But she was running out of strength from the effort, and she wasn't able to push as many people aside as she could have. Suddenly, she was hit hard in the head, knocking her mask off and making her stumble. When she straightened herself, she realized that her head didn't hurt. Not even a tinge of pain. She touched the necklace Azshiu had given her, and realized that it was warm. What he said was true: she wouldn't feel any pain if she was physically hurt. “Azshiu!” she cried out.
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“Shyra!” Azshiu cried. Angrily, he pushed aside everyone that came close to him. “Get out of my way!” he shouted above the crowds.
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But no one heard him, and the mass of people continued to run away from the town, carrying Shyra farther and farther away from Azshiu. Shyra looked around at her surroundings, the light from the paper lanterns illuminating the buildings and townspeople. Over the heads of the people, she saw the stables where she had first met Kat. Some of the horses had broken free from their bonds, while others stood at their posts, stomping at the ground frantically. Shyra now knew that she was on the outskirts of town; she hadn't realized that the people had dragged her so far away from where she had been.
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Now she knew she had to get back. Gathering up the last of her strength, she pushed through the people. “Get out of my way!” she ordered, shoving a man, pushing past a woman, making sure not to hurt any children. “Azshiu!” she cried out, in a final attempt for him to find her.
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He heard her. “Shyra!” he called back, scanning the crowd for any sign of Shyra. Just as he was looking over, she jumped up and called for him again. The move was risky- she could've lost her footing and been trampled- but it worked. Azshiu spotted her and pushed through the people until he could visibly see Shyra. Finally, he reached her. Grabbing her wrist, he pulled her to him, wrapping his arm around her waist in protection and so he wouldn't lose her again; Shyra clutched his shirt in response. “Are you all right?” he asked. She nodded her head in response. “Come on,” he said, pulling her back to where the rest of the group was. “We have to help the others.”
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During the time when Shyra and Azshiu were separated, the cloaked figures had advanced towards the others. The three mages were advancing towards Xyza and Ypae, while the seven swordsmen made their way to kill Bain and Keyon. The swordsmen divided, charging at the two knights.
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In a clash of blades, the knights and swordsmen moved with lightning speed. Keyon did a half crescent swing, slashing his opponent in the chest; Bain shoved his sword into his opponent's gut, letting him fall to the ground, and moved to the next opponent. In a combination, Keyon and Bain slew two more opponents with ease.
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Meanwhile, the mages started collecting their powers, and preparing to aim them at Xyza. She put her hands together, palms out, and began to chant a spell. In a flash of light, the mages powers and Xyza's collided with each other. None of them could make separate attacks; if they did, their opponent would gain the upper hand.
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One of the swordsmen managed to slip away from Bain and Keyon, and spotted Kiyera. Grinning, he advanced towards her. “My, aren't you pretty?” he said, readying his sword.
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Bain glanced back at her as he blocked a stroke from his opponent. “Don't you touch her!” he shouted at the swordsman, forcing away his opponent's blade. Quickly, Bain slashed at his opponent, but only managed to graze his arm as the swordsman moved away. Grabbing the sword from one of his fallen opponents, he tossed it to Kiyera; the blade cut into the ground, so the hilt was upright. “Take the sword, Kiyera!” he said as he blocked another blow from his opponent.
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With great agility, Kiyera ran to the sword, barely avoiding a slash from her opponent. Removing the sword from the ground, she readied herself. “How do you expect me to fight in this dress?” she asked, never taking her eyes off the swordsman. Behind her, Keyon finished off his opponent, and moved over to Ypae, placing her behind him so that way Xyza could fight the mages easier.
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Bain kept parrying with his opponent. “Just hold him off until I get there!” he shouted as he swung at his opponent.
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The swordsman charged at Kiyera, and she put up her blade to block the blow. Using her newly gained strength, she pushed the blade aside, and they parried each other. As she put her sword up for another block, Kiyera tripped over the hems of her kimonos, and fumbled. The swordsman swiped at her, leaving a large cut in her left arm. Kiyera let out a cry of pain as her warm blood permanently stained her kimono.
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Bain clashed his blades with his opponent, and saw an opening. In one quick motion, he swung his blade at his opponent's stomach, leaving a fatal wound; his opponent instantly dropped. Turning, he shouted, “Hold on Kiyera!”
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One of the mages noticed Bain, and chanted a silent spell. Suddenly, the mage separated into four solid images of himself, and they moved to stop Bain. This spell cost the mage, though, giving Xyza the opportunity to destroy him, leaving only two mages.
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“Keyon!” Xyza shouted, as Keyon was about to move to kill the clones; he stopped and looked at her. “Take Princess Ypae back to the palace! I'll handle these two!” Nodding, he grabbed Ypae and they made their way back to the palace. One of the clones made a charge at him, but Keyon cut him down with a single stroke. Xyza focused her attention back on the mages, as their attacks slowly began to lose power. She ended her attack and chanted another spell. Sweat trickled down her face as she launched two streams of red magic; the mages threw up shields of magic, nullifying the attack. Xyza gritted her teeth in frustration.
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In the mean time, Bain and Kiyera had their hands full. The clones had the abilities of their master, and were able to produce two swords made of black magic. Bain gripped his sword, and shot a glance back at Kiyera; she was standing, her sword held in a defensive mode. He focused his attention back the clones; the faster he killed them, the faster he'd be able to help Kiyera.
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Kiyera panted, a bead of sweat falling down her cheek; the sword she had in her hands was a lot heavier than the swords she used in training, and the strength it took to use it was sapping her energy. It didn't help the situation that her left arm was throbbing with pain.
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The swordsman smiled smugly at her, his sword hanging by his side. “Ah, pretty,” he said, advancing towards her. “Are you getting tired?”
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Kiyera gripped her sword tighter. There was no way she was going to die at the hands of this man. All she had to do was wait for Bain, and then he would kill the man.
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But the swordsman didn't give Bain the chance. He raised his sword and charged at her, swinging directly at her stomach. She raised her sword and blocked the attack, a jolt of pain shooting through her left arm; she bit her lip to hold back a scream. She moved his blade away and swung at his side, but he blocked; stepping on her kimono, he pushed her back, making her fall on the ground. Quickly, he knocked her sword out of her reach and loomed over her, grinning. In a split second, Kiyera swung her leg at his ankles, swiping him off of his feet. Frantically, she moved towards her sword and reached for it; the swordsman grabbed her leg and pulled her to him, rage in his eyes. She just needed to reach a little bit farther.
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“Bain!” she cried out, as the swordsman readied his sword for the final blow. She stretched out her arm, her sword only centimeters away.
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Bain cut down one of the clones and blocked an attack from the other. He glanced at her and his eyes filled with fright. “Kiyera!” he shouted, swinging his opponent's blade away and parrying with him; he had to kill the clone quickly.
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The swordsman crouched over her. “Now you may die!” he shouted, swinging his blade to cleave her in two. Kiyera was finally able to grab her sword. Gripping it, she thrust the sword into his body; he stopped, his sword only inches from her body. She tightened her grip on the hilt and twisted the blade, making the wound larger and killing the swordsman; blood splashed everywhere, dripping on Kiyera's kimono, and the swordsman's lifeless body fell on top of her.
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Behind her, Bain did a half crescent swing and beheaded the clone; the sword disappeared and the clone vanished into thin air. Instantly, he turned and ran to Kiyera, leaving Xyza to finish off the mages. “Kiyera!” he shouted.
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Using what little strength she had left, Kiyera pushed the swordsman off of her and pulled her sword out of his gut, the blood on the sword dripping on to the ground. Her body began to quiver, and she dropped the blood soaked sword on the ground. She was only fifteen years old, and she had killed someone.
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Bain knelt down next to Kiyera, and wrapped his arm around her. “Kiyera,” he said concerned. He felt her body shaking, and he tightened his grip around her. She nuzzled against his chest, tears falling down her cheeks and onto his shirt; her throat tightened and became dry, and she covered her face with her hands, crying into them. “Oh, Kiyera,” Bain whispered, resting his head on hers.
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Just then, Azshiu and Shyra arrived. She looked at all the dead bodies on the ground, at the pools of blood that surrounded them, and felt her throat tighten in disgust. She looked away from the bodies and over at Xyza and the mage she was fighting; the lifeless body of the second mage lay next to him. He put up a shield, blocking one of Xyza's attacks, and looked directly at Shyra; his eyes went wide at the sight of her.
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Azshiu noticed him staring, and collected his power in his hand, launching the attack at the mage. Quickly, the mage put up a smoke screen, and Azshiu's attack went right through it; when the smoke cleared, the mage was gone.
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Xyza turned to Azshiu. “Did you kill him?” she asked. Bain and Kiyera stood up, and looked at Azshiu.
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He shook his head. “No,” he said. “He got away. Where are Keyon and Princess Ypae?” he asked as he walked over to the corpse of one of the mages, and knelt down next to it.
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“They're safe at the palace,” Xyza responded.
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Intently, he examined the body and clothes of the corpse, and then moved to one of the corpses of the swordsmen; again, he examined the corpse's body and clothes carefully.
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“What is it, Azshiu?” asked Shyra, stepping towards him.
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He stood up and turned to face them all. “These are assassins from the Northern Kingdom,” he said. “They came to kill Princess Ypae.”
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“Apparently, there were more assassins throughout the town looking for you, Princess Ypae,” Azshiu said. “At least, according to some of the knights and Council members also at the festival.”
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They were in the palace's den, a warm and inviting room lavished with rich furniture and paintings; an unlit fireplace was set in one of the walls. Ypae was sitting in a chair, holding her mask in her hands; Keyon looked at her, concerned. Shyra, Kiyera, and Xyza were also sitting down, while the men stood. Kiyera was still trembling a little from her experience, and Bain placed a hand on her right shoulder. Miss Kate had immediately tended to Kiyera's wound; it was deep, but it wasn't life threatening. She had stitched the wound up when they had gotten back, and was now wrapping a tourniquet around it so as to help protect the wound from infection.
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“So, they've finally come after me,” Ypae said, clutching her mask. “It's not like we didn't expect this, Azshiu. We knew it would happen eventually.”
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“Maybe you should've acquired your personal protectors sooner, Princess Ypae, like Princess Ares did,” said Bain.
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Shyra looked up at him. “I thought Ares was the same age as Ypae when Azshiu and Ramyna became her protectors,” she said.
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Azshiu shook his head. “The legitimate heir to the throne acquires their protectors when they're thirteen years old. The remaining heirs each obtain their protectors when they're fifteen years old,” he responded.
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“It wouldn't have made a difference if I had gotten my protectors any sooner,” Ypae said to Bain. “Thank the gods that I had them tonight, though.” She looked at Xyza and Keyon and smiled at them; they both smiled in return.
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Shyra then remembered the one assassin that had seen her. Maybe Azshiu was mistaken and the mages could've been from one of the other Kingdoms. It made sense, since news about Kiyera and she was spreading like wild fire. She bit her lip in thought.
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Azshiu looked down at her. “What's the matter, Shyra?” he asked.
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She looked up at him. “Do you think that it's possible that some of the assassins <i>weren't </i>from the Northern Kingdom?” Azshiu and the others looked at her inquisitively. “Well, one of the mages saw me and gave me a weird look, like <i>I </i>was the one he was looking for, not Ypae,” she said.
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Azshiu thought about it for a moment. “It's probable,” he said. “The Eastern Kingdom, maybe?” He looked at Ypae, as if he wanted her to give her own opinion of the situation.
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“I'm not sure,” she said. “The Eastern Kingdom has no reason to kill Shyra, nor do the other Kingdoms have a reason to kill either her or Kiyera. Shyra's not of royal blood either, so she doesn't pose a threat to the other Kingdoms.”
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Ypae was right; they all knew it. Shyra was just a reincarnation of a princess, so she didn't pose a threat. But that mage's look still made Shyra uneasy. She knew that he had been looking for her. Maybe aside from Ypae, but he had been. She didn't say anything, though. There was really no point; it wasn't the most important of everybody's concerns.
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Soon after the meeting, they all went to their separate chambers to sleep. It was about two in the morning when Shyra finally entered her room and closed the door behind her. She sighed and leaned against her wall; it had been a long day. Now that Ypae was of the proper age, the Northern Kingdom would most likely be attacking and trying to kill her more frequently. That meant that Kiyera, Azshiu, and the others would be fighting to protect her. Shyra didn't like standing around while the others fought. It made her feel weak and useless. If her friends were going to fight, then she was going to fight too. Maybe Azshiu could teach her how to use a bow, or even a sword. She would ask him tomorrow.
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Footsteps in the hallway outside her room made her turn her head. There were mumbled voices, and she recognized them as Kiyera's and Bain's.
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“Are you sure you'll be okay?” Bain asked.
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There was a short pause and then Kiyera said, “Yeah.” She was still shaken from her experience, Shyra knew; she could tell by the tone in her voice.
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Bain didn't seem to believe her either, for he was silent for a while. Finally, he said, “All right. If you need me, though, you know where to find me.” Kiyera must've nodded in response; Shyra didn't hear her say anything. Then she heard Bain leave, Kiyera open her door and then enter her chambers.
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Shyra moved from the wall and began to undress, opening the chest at the end of her bed to find a nightshirt. Even though she and Kiyera weren't friends-and were in a fight at the current moment- she was still worried about her. She put herself in Kiyera's position: how would she feel if she had just killed someone? Especially at fifteen; she was young still; much too young to kill. She slipped the nightshirt on over her body and crawled into bed, covering herself with the covers. Stroking the necklace that Azshiu had given her, finding it comforting, she thought about Kiyera's wound and the experience she had gone through. If she were in Kiyera's shoes, she probably wouldn't be able to sleep that night.
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Kiyera began to untie her <i>obi</i>, moving slowly and carefully so as not to strain her arm. Her arm was still sore and the cut on it was throbbing. She folded the <i>obi</i> and placed it on the bed, then began to take off her kimonos. She slid the first one off slowly and carefully, so as not to arouse any unnecessary pain. She placed the kimono on the bed, and saw the blood- hers and the assassin's- stained on the kimono. Gently, Kiyera touched it; the blood was still a little wet, and was cold to the touch. She drew back instantly, and grabbed the collar of her second kimono. She then looked down at her hands, and saw that they were trembling. She gripped the kimono and bit her lip to hold back tears. She then realized that the longer that she stayed in the kimono, the longer she would have to look at the blood on it. Quickly, she stripped herself of it, hissing as the silk fabric brushed against her wound.
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She went into the chest and pulled out her sleepwear. As she put them on, she kept looking over at her kimonos, her eyes always going straight to the blood stains. How could she have killed someone? Yes, it was out of self-defense, but it was still wrong for her to kill someone at her age. Ramyna might have, but it had to have been natural for her, being such a great warrior and all. Angry with herself, she swiped the kimonos off the bed, letting them fall to the floor in a heap.
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She crawled onto her bed and pulled her knees up to her chin, and rested her head on top of them. She was emotionally and physically drained from the day; it was finally weighing down on her. The swordsman's face kept showing up in her mind. His eyes were filled with fear and hatred, crimson blood dripped from his mouth; he had been looking right at her, his gaze piercing. She could recall how he felt when he had fallen on her: his body was heavy, muscular, still warm, but beginning to turn cold; his warm blood flowed from his abdominal wound and his mouth, seeping through the silk of her kimonos. She felt it touch her skin, having it drip across her torso.
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Kiyera sniffed and lifted her head as she felt a new flood of tears falling down her cheeks. She quickly wiped them away with her sleeve. <i>Bain…</i>she thought. He said that she could come and talk with him if she wanted to, but she didn't feel right doing it. He was older than she was, and it'd be awkward for her to go into a boy's room in the middle of the night. She looked to her door and sighed. There was one other person she could go be with. She didn't care who that person was. She just didn't want to be alone that night.
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A knock on the door woke Shyra. She hadn't been asleep long, but who would be calling on her at this late hour?
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“Coming,” she mumbled as she removed her covers. Quickly, she walked towards the door and opened it. She was shocked to see that it was Kiyera; her eyes were red from crying and she had fresh tearstains down her cheeks. “Kiyera?” Shyra said.
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“Hi, Shyra,” she said. She sniffed and tried to smile; it was a sad attempt. “Can I come in?” she asked.
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Shyra nodded and moved aside so Kiyera could enter; she closed the door behind her and walked over to her nightstand to light some candles. When she was done, she looked at Kiyera. She was standing in the room, just looking at her. She knew Kiyera was still shaken from that night; that's the only reason why she was there. Now was a good time to apologize for the fight they had had. It would help ease Kiyera's mind, even if it was just a little.
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“I'm sorry, Kiyera,” she started, scratching the back of her head. “About our fight. It was a stupid thing for us to get so upset about.” She paused then added, “I have a tendency to get hard-headed about things.”
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Kiyera shook her head. “It was my fault,” she said. “I shouldn't have got so worked up. I'm sorry, too.”
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Silence. Neither of them knew what to do next. It was awkward, both of them just standing there, looking at each other. At least the tension between them was no longer there, lightening the mood, evening if it was by the smallest amount.
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“Are you okay?” Shyra asked, finally. It was a stupid question. Of course Kiyera wasn't okay. If she were, she wouldn't be there.
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Shyra was about to apologize, when Kiyera walked over to the bed and sat down. <br>She laid her hands on her lap and looked down at them. “Ever since I was little,” she said, “I've dreamed of what my life would be like: going to school, graduating, falling in love, raising a family, and living my life to the fullest. And then,” she paused. “And then I came here, and everything changed.” She looked up at Shyra. “Ever since we've come here, I've been training myself to kill others. Honestly, I didn't think I'd ever use my training. I figured we'd be leaving for our world soon.”
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Shyra walked over and sat down next to Kiyera; she was beginning to tremble. “I-I killed a man, Shyra,” she whispered. “With my own two hands, I killed someone.” She looked up at her, and tears were in her eyes. “Do you know what that's like?” It was a rhetorical question; of course Shyra didn't know what that was like.
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Shyra wrapped her arm around Kiyera in a comforting embrace. “I'm so sorry, Kiyera,” she whispered. “I really am.” Kiyera broke down, her entire body trembling against Shyra's. A new torrent of tears fell across her cheeks, soaking Shyra's shirt. Shyra cooed her, resting her head on Kiyera's. She had no idea when she had become so nice to Kiyera of all people, but she felt bad for her. In a way, Shyra was glad that Kiyera had come to talk to her instead of someone else. Maybe they really could be friends.
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Shyra shut her eyes tighter as the morning sun's rays shone upon her face. She and Kiyera had ended up talking early into the morning, and she was still tired; it was only an hour past dawn. She yawned and stretched, her back a little cramped from sleeping against the bed; she had let Kiyera sleep in her bed that night. Shyra looked up at her and saw that she was still asleep, her breathing rhythmic. Her eyes were red-rimmed and she had dark circles under them, but she looked so peaceful. Shyra smiled.
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Noise from outside of Kiyera's room made Shyra turn. Slowly, she stood up; she was still a little stiff. She walked to the door and opened it, peering out into the hallway. Bain was standing outside of Kiyera's door, dressed for training.
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He knocked on her door. “Kiyera?” he said. “Are you up?”
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Shyra stepped into the hallway. “Bain?” she said. He looked over at her.
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“Oh, Shyra,” he said. “Have you seen Kiyera? She's late for her training.” He was concerned for her; either that or he was upset. Shyra looked into his eyes; he was definitely concerned.
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“Yeah,” she said. “She spent the night with me in my room. She just needed to talk.”
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“Oh,” Bain said. He paused, then asked: “Is she all right?”
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Shyra smiled and nodded. “Yes,” she said. “She's all right.”
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The day of the Mid-Summer Festival had finally arrived
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The day of the Mid-Summer Festival had finally arrived. The town was beautiful, and all the houses were decorated for the festivities. Banners of fabric and strings of paper lanterns hung across the streets, connecting from one house to another. Each house was adorned with brightly colored flowers and fabrics, hanging from the windows. Venders with food and jewelry and costumes from other Kingdoms lined the streets below, decorated with beautiful fabrics and brightly colored flowers; the aromas of the foods were drifting through the air, inviting all to eat. Everyone, from nobles to peasants, was dressed in splendid costumes from one of the Four Kingdoms- Arasya, Hasarii, Kotauru, and Shioa- with matching masks. Everything was set in place for the festival to begin at dusk.
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In the palace, Shyra was in her room, tying the strings on her dress. In the three days since Ypae had obtained her protectors, Trisa had been sewing Shyra's dress and working on the finishing touches. Shyra couldn't complain, even if the dress that she wore was pink. She stroked her throat in boredom; it hadn't taken her long to get dressed. She walked over to the armoire and looked through it, and found a shelf above where the dresses hung. On the shelf was an assortment of jewels and head ornaments, all of which were beautiful and adorned with jewels of various colors. All of them were too extravagant for Shyra's liking, and she closed the armoire doors with a sigh.
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Someone knocked on the framework of her door. “Shyra? Are you decent?” they asked.
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“Yeah, Azshiu,” she responded. “You can come in.”
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Azshiu opened the door and Shyra's heat began to beat faster. He was dressed in traditional Shioan clothing, as was expected, and they suited him perfectly. He wore a violet-gray tunic trimmed in gold over a white shirt and breeches; a gold sash adorned with a midnight blue jewel was around his waist. He also wore shoulder armor, a midnight blue cape cascading down his back and nearly touching the floor; connecting the armor was a gold chain with three gems placed on it; brown boots covered his feet. To finish the outfit, a midnight blue mask was set on his face, framing his violet eyes. She looked him up and down, color almost spreading across her cheeks. He was <i>handsome. </i>
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“Wow,” he said, chuckling. “You can actually pass as a lady.” He leaned on the doorway and looked at her, his eyes dancing with laughter.
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Shyra placed her fits on her hips. “Oh, ha, ha. Very funny,” she said.
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He smiled and walked over to her. “Here,” he said, pulling something from underneath his sash. It was a necklace, a pendant hanging from a long silver chain. Shyra took the pendant in her hand and examined it; on the back of it was an inscription in Arasyian. “It's a charm of protection,” he said. “As long as you have it on, no harm can come to you, whether it's from magic, a hand crafted weapon, or from a human.”
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“T-thank you,” she said, a little taken a back by the gift. “But why would I need it?”
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“Well, I figured that since more people know about you and Kiyera, you two would be more likely to be targeted,” he said. “You never know when it will come in handy.”
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“You're right,” she sighed. “Thank you.” She took it from his hands and draped it around her neck, trying to clasp it together. “Stupid clasp,” she muttered, still fumbling with it.
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“Here,” Azshiu said as he stepped behind her and took the chain from her hands and hooked it together; it came down to about an inch below the top of her dress. “There you go,” he said. “Now, are you ready to go to the festival?”
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Shyra smiled and nodded. “Yeah,” she said. Grabbing the pair of matching slippers next to the mirror, she slipped them on and walked out of her room. “Are we meeting up with everyone else?” she asked.
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“Yes,” he said. “They're probably already down at the festival though.” He chuckled as he said, “Except maybe Ypae. She and Ares always took forever to decide on what to wear. Oh, that reminds me.” Azshiu reached into his pant's pocket and pulled out a light pink mask, trimmed with silver. Handing it to Shyra, he said, “Trisa just finished your mask. It'll look nice with your dress.” He looked at her and smiled. The thought of her being in a dress, which she hated so much, amused him greatly.
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She snatched it from his hands and put it on. “You have too much free time to annoy me,” she retorted; he laughed in response.
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They walked through the hallways until they reached outside, the red sun setting behind the mountains. Kiyera and Bain, both dressed in traditional Kotauran clothes, were waiting for them in front of the palace; Ypae, Xyza, and Keyon still had not arrived. Kiyera wore layered kimonos with an elegant <i>obi </i>around her waist, while Bain wore a kimono type tunic with a matching cape and armor.
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“Well, don't you two make a cute couple?” Shyra joked. Both Kiyera and Bain turned a shade of pink. Shyra and Kiyera looked directly at each other, their eyes connecting, but they didn't say anything to each other.
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Azshiu noticed the tension between the two, and said, “So, Princess Ypae and her protectors haven't shown up yet?”
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“No,” Bain said. “Not yet.” He looked up at the palace. “It can't take <i>that </i>long to get dressed,” he muttered. As if right on cue, Ypae and her protectors walked down the path from the palace and arrived in front of them. Ypae and Keyon, sticking true to their Kingdom, were dressed in traditional Arasyian clothing. Ypae wore a beautiful violet and blue dress that flowed out around her waist, the hem of the dress just touching the ground; Keyon was dressed similar to Azshiu, the Shioan and Arasyian cultures being closely tied with one another, but his outfit was a dark green color. Xyza, meanwhile, wore Hasariian clothing, her long black hair cascading down her back. The dress was form fitting, showing off her toned figure, and was made of burgundy silk with a black and gold trim; she wore gold bangle bracelets and a gold necklace to complete the look. Greeting each other, they walked down into the town as the sun set behind the horizon.
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All of the town's residents were already at the festival, enjoying all the things that it had to offer, bustling about from booth to booth looking at jewelry and costumes, and eating the food. Performers were in the streets, leaping and dancing around, weaving their way through the crowds of people. The festival awed Shyra and Kiyera, never seeing one so grand in their world. Everything was colorful and beautiful, and everyone was happy.
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One performance made Shyra stop in the street. Her eyes lay upon a large wooden stage with four posts at each corner; patterned silk fabric hung between each post, framing the stage. In the back left hand corner were two musicians; one had a drum in front of them while the other held a <i>kotsuzumi, </i>a type of guitar. In the center of the stage was a beautiful woman, her long black hair swept back into a low bun decorated with jewels. Her face was decorated with beautiful makeup, her full lips painted red, and her catlike eyes rimmed with gold, black, and red shadow. She wore two long, layered kimonos that hung off her shoulders, with long sleeves that nearly touched the ground. Around her waist was an ornate <i>obi </i>that tied in a large bow in the back; a jewel was placed on the cord that went around her <i>obi. </i>In her hands, she held two beautiful <i>riahas </i>made with gold and white silk, and dark wood.
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Shyra looked at the <i>riaha </i>dancer in awe, as the drummer and <i>kotsuzumi</i> player began to play out the melody, the dancer getting into the starting position. Slowly, she spun the <i>riahas </i>in her hands, tossing them into the air and then catching them, spinning her body around as the music began to quicken. Her kimonos flowed around her as she moved across the stage, moving her feet and body in complex patterns, tossing the <i>riahas</i> into the air and catching them, spinning them in her hands.
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Shyra was so awed by the dancer, she didn't notice Azshiu step next to her, watching the performance with her. The dancer finished by spinning her arms in a circular motion, dipping and turning her body until she was back at the center of the stage. She tossed the <i>riahas</i> into the air and collapsed onto the stage. Swiftly but gracefully, she sat up and raised her hands, catching the <i>riahas</i>. In a final display of skill, she twirled them with her hands, threw one up into the air, and then caught it again in her hand. She finished the dance by crossing her arms, the <i>riahas</i> fully displayed with her eyes peaking out over the tops of them; the drummer and <i>kotsuzumi</i> player finished the tune, and the crowd in front of the stag applauded loudly. The <i>riaha</i> dancer closed the <i>riahas</i> and placed them within her sleeve. She then bent over and bowed, her hands out in front of her with the tips of her index and middle fingers touching.
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“She was amazing,” Shyra breathed. The <i>riaha</i> dancer stood up and walked over to the <i>kotsuzumi</i> player and drummer, talking to them about what music they should play next.
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“Yes, she was,” Azshiu said. “The <i>riaha</i> dance originated from the Kingdom of Kotauru, did you know that?” Shyra shook her head in response. “Come on, Shyra,” he said to her. “There's much more of the festival to see.” She nodded and followed him away from the stage, as the <i>riaha</i> dancer prepared for her next dance. Shyra continued to look at her in awe, silently wishing that someday she could be just as graceful and beautiful.
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Around midnight, the festival was coming to a close. As a finale, the crowds of people grouped together and gazed upon the display of fireworks. Up the fireworks shot, then making a loud <i>crack! </i>as they exploded in a brilliant display of colors, reflecting off the gazing eyes of the bystanders.
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Near the middle of the fireworks display, Azshiu got an uneasy feeling in his gut. He felt like he sensed something- or someone- watching him and his companions. He looked around at the town, at the rooftops, windows, and open areas of streets, but he saw nothing.
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Shyra looked up at him as she noticed he was restless. “What's wrong?” she shouted to him, as another set of fireworks crackled in the sky.
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He looked back down at her, and shook his head. “It's nothing,” he shouted back. But that uneasy feeling was still in his gut, and he continued to look around the town for a while. Shyra, every once in a while, would shoot a glance back up at him to make sure that he was all right.
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As another set of fireworks finished, a loud shriek erupted from the crowd. Shyra, Azshiu, and the rest of the crowds looked behind them. Another set of fireworks illuminated the ten cloaked figures standing behind the crowd; seven of them drew their swords and advanced towards the crowd, while the remaining three placed their hands out in front of them and produced fireballs, shooting them at the buildings. The townspeople went into an instant state of chaos like wild animals, all running away from the cloaked figures together in a mass of people.
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Shyra looked to her left and saw Keyon and Bain draw their swords; Xyza protectively stood in front of Ypae, and Kiyera stood behind Bain. Shyra looked back at Azshiu, and saw his magic form in his left hand as he reached for her with his right. Before she could grab his hand, however, she was engulfed by the frightened crowd and was separated from Azshiu.
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Frantically, she tried to move through the crowds, trying to get back to Azshiu. Noticing that she had been separated from him, Azshiu's magic disappeared and he made his way towards her, running through the mass of people and pushing aside anyone that was in his way.
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“Azshiu!” she cried as she stretched her hand out for him to take. In a desperate attempt to reach her, Azshiu stretched his hand out. For a brief second, their fingers brushed each other's, then a man knocked Shyra out of Azshiu's reach, and she was off in the crowds again.
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“No!” Azshiu cried. “Shyra!”
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Shyra elbowed her way through the crowds, going against the flow of people. But she was running out of strength from the effort, and she wasn't able to push as many people aside as she could have. Suddenly, she was hit hard in the head, knocking her mask off and making her stumble. When she straightened herself, she realized that her head didn't hurt. Not even a tinge of pain. She touched the necklace Azshiu had given her, and realized that it was warm. What he said was true: she wouldn't feel any pain if she was physically hurt. “Azshiu!” she cried out.
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“Shyra!” Azshiu cried. Angrily, he pushed aside everyone that came close to him. “Get out of my way!” he shouted above the crowds.
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But no one heard him, and the mass of people continued to run away from the town, carrying Shyra farther and farther away from Azshiu. Shyra looked around at her surroundings, the light from the paper lanterns illuminating the buildings and townspeople. Over the heads of the people, she saw the stables where she had first met Kat. Some of the horses had broken free from their bonds, while others stood at their posts, stomping at the ground frantically. Shyra now knew that she was on the outskirts of town; she hadn't realized that the people had dragged her so far away from where she had been.
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Now she knew she had to get back. Gathering up the last of her strength, she pushed through the people. “Get out of my way!” she ordered, shoving a man, pushing past a woman, making sure not to hurt any children. “Azshiu!” she cried out, in a final attempt for him to find her.
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He heard her. “Shyra!” he called back, scanning the crowd for any sign of Shyra. Just as he was looking over, she jumped up and called for him again. The move was risky- she could've lost her footing and been trampled- but it worked. Azshiu spotted her and pushed through the people until he could visibly see Shyra. Finally, he reached her. Grabbing her wrist, he pulled her to him, wrapping his arm around her waist in protection and so he wouldn't lose her again; Shyra clutched his shirt in response. “Are you all right?” he asked. She nodded her head in response. “Come on,” he said, pulling her back to where the rest of the group was. “We have to help the others.”
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During the time when Shyra and Azshiu were separated, the cloaked figures had advanced towards the others. The three mages were advancing towards Xyza and Ypae, while the seven swordsmen made their way to kill Bain and Keyon. The swordsmen divided, charging at the two knights.
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In a clash of blades, the knights and swordsmen moved with lightning speed. Keyon did a half crescent swing, slashing his opponent in the chest; Bain shoved his sword into his opponent's gut, letting him fall to the ground, and moved to the next opponent. In a combination, Keyon and Bain slew two more opponents with ease.
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Meanwhile, the mages started collecting their powers, and preparing to aim them at Xyza. She put her hands together, palms out, and began to chant a spell. In a flash of light, the mages powers and Xyza's collided with each other. None of them could make separate attacks; if they did, their opponent would gain the upper hand.
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One of the swordsmen managed to slip away from Bain and Keyon, and spotted Kiyera. Grinning, he advanced towards her. “My, aren't you pretty?” he said, readying his sword.
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Bain glanced back at her as he blocked a stroke from his opponent. “Don't you touch her!” he shouted at the swordsman, forcing away his opponent's blade. Quickly, Bain slashed at his opponent, but only managed to graze his arm as the swordsman moved away. Grabbing the sword from one of his fallen opponents, he tossed it to Kiyera; the blade cut into the ground, so the hilt was upright. “Take the sword, Kiyera!” he said as he blocked another blow from his opponent.
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With great agility, Kiyera ran to the sword, barely avoiding a slash from her opponent. Removing the sword from the ground, she readied herself. “How do you expect me to fight in this dress?” she asked, never taking her eyes off the swordsman. Behind her, Keyon finished off his opponent, and moved over to Ypae, placing her behind him so that way Xyza could fight the mages easier.
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Bain kept parrying with his opponent. “Just hold him off until I get there!” he shouted as he swung at his opponent.
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The swordsman charged at Kiyera, and she put up her blade to block the blow. Using her newly gained strength, she pushed the blade aside, and they parried each other. As she put her sword up for another block, Kiyera tripped over the hems of her kimonos, and fumbled. The swordsman swiped at her, leaving a large cut in her left arm. Kiyera let out a cry of pain as her warm blood permanently stained her kimono.
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Bain clashed his blades with his opponent, and saw an opening. In one quick motion, he swung his blade at his opponent's stomach, leaving a fatal wound; his opponent instantly dropped. Turning, he shouted, “Hold on Kiyera!”
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One of the mages noticed Bain, and chanted a silent spell. Suddenly, the mage separated into four solid images of himself, and they moved to stop Bain. This spell cost the mage, though, giving Xyza the opportunity to destroy him, leaving only two mages.
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“Keyon!” Xyza shouted, as Keyon was about to move to kill the clones; he stopped and looked at her. “Take Princess Ypae back to the palace! I'll handle these two!” Nodding, he grabbed Ypae and they made their way back to the palace. One of the clones made a charge at him, but Keyon cut him down with a single stroke. Xyza focused her attention back on the mages, as their attacks slowly began to lose power. She ended her attack and chanted another spell. Sweat trickled down her face as she launched two streams of red magic; the mages threw up shields of magic, nullifying the attack. Xyza gritted her teeth in frustration.
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In the mean time, Bain and Kiyera had their hands full. The clones had the abilities of their master, and were able to produce two swords made of black magic. Bain gripped his sword, and shot a glance back at Kiyera; she was standing, her sword held in a defensive mode. He focused his attention back the clones; the faster he killed them, the faster he'd be able to help Kiyera.
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Kiyera panted, a bead of sweat falling down her cheek; the sword she had in her hands was a lot heavier than the swords she used in training, and the strength it took to use it was sapping her energy. It didn't help the situation that her left arm was throbbing with pain.
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The swordsman smiled smugly at her, his sword hanging by his side. “Ah, pretty,” he said, advancing towards her. “Are you getting tired?”
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Kiyera gripped her sword tighter. There was no way she was going to die at the hands of this man. All she had to do was wait for Bain, and then he would kill the man.
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But the swordsman didn't give Bain the chance. He raised his sword and charged at her, swinging directly at her stomach. She raised her sword and blocked the attack, a jolt of pain shooting through her left arm; she bit her lip to hold back a scream. She moved his blade away and swung at his side, but he blocked; stepping on her kimono, he pushed her back, making her fall on the ground. Quickly, he knocked her sword out of her reach and loomed over her, grinning. In a split second, Kiyera swung her leg at his ankles, swiping him off of his feet. Frantically, she moved towards her sword and reached for it; the swordsman grabbed her leg and pulled her to him, rage in his eyes. She just needed to reach a little bit farther.
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“Bain!” she cried out, as the swordsman readied his sword for the final blow. She stretched out her arm, her sword only centimeters away.
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Bain cut down one of the clones and blocked an attack from the other. He glanced at her and his eyes filled with fright. “Kiyera!” he shouted, swinging his opponent's blade away and parrying with him; he had to kill the clone quickly.
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The swordsman crouched over her. “Now you may die!” he shouted, swinging his blade to cleave her in two. Kiyera was finally able to grab her sword. Gripping it, she thrust the sword into his body; he stopped, his sword only inches from her body. She tightened her grip on the hilt and twisted the blade, making the wound larger and killing the swordsman; blood splashed everywhere, dripping on Kiyera's kimono, and the swordsman's lifeless body fell on top of her.
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Behind her, Bain did a half crescent swing and beheaded the clone; the sword disappeared and the clone vanished into thin air. Instantly, he turned and ran to Kiyera, leaving Xyza to finish off the mages. “Kiyera!” he shouted.
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Using what little strength she had left, Kiyera pushed the swordsman off of her and pulled her sword out of his gut, the blood on the sword dripping on to the ground. Her body began to quiver, and she dropped the blood soaked sword on the ground. She was only fifteen years old, and she had killed someone.
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Bain knelt down next to Kiyera, and wrapped his arm around her. “Kiyera,” he said concerned. He felt her body shaking, and he tightened his grip around her. She nuzzled against his chest, tears falling down her cheeks and onto his shirt; her throat tightened and became dry, and she covered her face with her hands, crying into them. “Oh, Kiyera,” Bain whispered, resting his head on hers.
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Just then, Azshiu and Shyra arrived. She looked at all the dead bodies on the ground, at the pools of blood that surrounded them, and felt her throat tighten in disgust. She looked away from the bodies and over at Xyza and the mage she was fighting; the lifeless body of the second mage lay next to him. He put up a shield, blocking one of Xyza's attacks, and looked directly at Shyra; his eyes went wide at the sight of her.
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Azshiu noticed him staring, and collected his power in his hand, launching the attack at the mage. Quickly, the mage put up a smoke screen, and Azshiu's attack went right through it; when the smoke cleared, the mage was gone.
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Xyza turned to Azshiu. “Did you kill him?” she asked. Bain and Kiyera stood up, and looked at Azshiu.
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He shook his head. “No,” he said. “He got away. Where are Keyon and Princess Ypae?” he asked as he walked over to the corpse of one of the mages, and knelt down next to it.
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“They're safe at the palace,” Xyza responded.
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Intently, he examined the body and clothes of the corpse, and then moved to one of the corpses of the swordsmen; again, he examined the corpse's body and clothes carefully.
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“What is it, Azshiu?” asked Shyra, stepping towards him.
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He stood up and turned to face them all. “These are assassins from the Northern Kingdom,” he said. “They came to kill Princess Ypae.”
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“Apparently, there were more assassins throughout the town looking for you, Princess Ypae,” Azshiu said. “At least, according to some of the knights and Council members also at the festival.”
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They were in the palace's den, a warm and inviting room lavished with rich furniture and paintings; an unlit fireplace was set in one of the walls. Ypae was sitting in a chair, holding her mask in her hands; Keyon looked at her, concerned. Shyra, Kiyera, and Xyza were also sitting down, while the men stood. Kiyera was still trembling a little from her experience, and Bain placed a hand on her right shoulder. Miss Kate had immediately tended to Kiyera's wound; it was deep, but it wasn't life threatening. She had stitched the wound up when they had gotten back, and was now wrapping a tourniquet around it so as to help protect the wound from infection.
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“So, they've finally come after me,” Ypae said, clutching her mask. “It's not like we didn't expect this, Azshiu. We knew it would happen eventually.”
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“Maybe you should've acquired your personal protectors sooner, Princess Ypae, like Princess Ares did,” said Bain.
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Shyra looked up at him. “I thought Ares was the same age as Ypae when Azshiu and Ramyna became her protectors,” she said.
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Azshiu shook his head. “The legitimate heir to the throne acquires their protectors when they're thirteen years old. The remaining heirs each obtain their protectors when they're fifteen years old,” he responded.
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“It wouldn't have made a difference if I had gotten my protectors any sooner,” Ypae said to Bain. “Thank the gods that I had them tonight, though.” She looked at Xyza and Keyon and smiled at them; they both smiled in return.
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Shyra then remembered the one assassin that had seen her. Maybe Azshiu was mistaken and the mages could've been from one of the other Kingdoms. It made sense, since news about Kiyera and she was spreading like wild fire. She bit her lip in thought.
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Azshiu looked down at her. “What's the matter, Shyra?” he asked.
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She looked up at him. “Do you think that it's possible that some of the assassins <i>weren't </i>from the Northern Kingdom?” Azshiu and the others looked at her inquisitively. “Well, one of the mages saw me and gave me a weird look, like <i>I </i>was the one he was looking for, not Ypae,” she said.
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Azshiu thought about it for a moment. “It's probable,” he said. “The Eastern Kingdom, maybe?” He looked at Ypae, as if he wanted her to give her own opinion of the situation.
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“I'm not sure,” she said. “The Eastern Kingdom has no reason to kill Shyra, nor do the other Kingdoms have a reason to kill either her or Kiyera. Shyra's not of royal blood either, so she doesn't pose a threat to the other Kingdoms.”
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Ypae was right; they all knew it. Shyra was just a reincarnation of a princess, so she didn't pose a threat. But that mage's look still made Shyra uneasy. She knew that he had been looking for her. Maybe aside from Ypae, but he had been. She didn't say anything, though. There was really no point; it wasn't the most important of everybody's concerns.
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Soon after the meeting, they all went to their separate chambers to sleep. It was about two in the morning when Shyra finally entered her room and closed the door behind her. She sighed and leaned against her wall; it had been a long day. Now that Ypae was of the proper age, the Northern Kingdom would most likely be attacking and trying to kill her more frequently. That meant that Kiyera, Azshiu, and the others would be fighting to protect her. Shyra didn't like standing around while the others fought. It made her feel weak and useless. If her friends were going to fight, then she was going to fight too. Maybe Azshiu could teach her how to use a bow, or even a sword. She would ask him tomorrow.
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Footsteps in the hallway outside her room made her turn her head. There were mumbled voices, and she recognized them as Kiyera's and Bain's.
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“Are you sure you'll be okay?” Bain asked.
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There was a short pause and then Kiyera said, “Yeah.” She was still shaken from her experience, Shyra knew; she could tell by the tone in her voice.
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Bain didn't seem to believe her either, for he was silent for a while. Finally, he said, “All right. If you need me, though, you know where to find me.” Kiyera must've nodded in response; Shyra didn't hear her say anything. Then she heard Bain leave, Kiyera open her door and then enter her chambers.
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Shyra moved from the wall and began to undress, opening the chest at the end of her bed to find a nightshirt. Even though she and Kiyera weren't friends-and were in a fight at the current moment- she was still worried about her. She put herself in Kiyera's position: how would she feel if she had just killed someone? Especially at fifteen; she was young still; much too young to kill. She slipped the nightshirt on over her body and crawled into bed, covering herself with the covers. Stroking the necklace that Azshiu had given her, finding it comforting, she thought about Kiyera's wound and the experience she had gone through. If she were in Kiyera's shoes, she probably wouldn't be able to sleep that night.
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Kiyera began to untie her <i>obi</i>, moving slowly and carefully so as not to strain her arm. Her arm was still sore and the cut on it was throbbing. She folded the <i>obi</i> and placed it on the bed, then began to take off her kimonos. She slid the first one off slowly and carefully, so as not to arouse any unnecessary pain. She placed the kimono on the bed, and saw the blood- hers and the assassin's- stained on the kimono. Gently, Kiyera touched it; the blood was still a little wet, and was cold to the touch. She drew back instantly, and grabbed the collar of her second kimono. She then looked down at her hands, and saw that they were trembling. She gripped the kimono and bit her lip to hold back tears. She then realized that the longer that she stayed in the kimono, the longer she would have to look at the blood on it. Quickly, she stripped herself of it, hissing as the silk fabric brushed against her wound.
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She went into the chest and pulled out her sleepwear. As she put them on, she kept looking over at her kimonos, her eyes always going straight to the blood stains. How could she have killed someone? Yes, it was out of self-defense, but it was still wrong for her to kill someone at her age. Ramyna might have, but it had to have been natural for her, being such a great warrior and all. Angry with herself, she swiped the kimonos off the bed, letting them fall to the floor in a heap.
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She crawled onto her bed and pulled her knees up to her chin, and rested her head on top of them. She was emotionally and physically drained from the day; it was finally weighing down on her. The swordsman's face kept showing up in her mind. His eyes were filled with fear and hatred, crimson blood dripped from his mouth; he had been looking right at her, his gaze piercing. She could recall how he felt when he had fallen on her: his body was heavy, muscular, still warm, but beginning to turn cold; his warm blood flowed from his abdominal wound and his mouth, seeping through the silk of her kimonos. She felt it touch her skin, having it drip across her torso.
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Kiyera sniffed and lifted her head as she felt a new flood of tears falling down her cheeks. She quickly wiped them away with her sleeve. <i>Bain…</i>she thought. He said that she could come and talk with him if she wanted to, but she didn't feel right doing it. He was older than she was, and it'd be awkward for her to go into a boy's room in the middle of the night. She looked to her door and sighed. There was one other person she could go be with. She didn't care who that person was. She just didn't want to be alone that night.
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A knock on the door woke Shyra. She hadn't been asleep long, but who would be calling on her at this late hour?
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“Coming,” she mumbled as she removed her covers. Quickly, she walked towards the door and opened it. She was shocked to see that it was Kiyera; her eyes were red from crying and she had fresh tearstains down her cheeks. “Kiyera?” Shyra said.
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“Hi, Shyra,” she said. She sniffed and tried to smile; it was a sad attempt. “Can I come in?” she asked.
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Shyra nodded and moved aside so Kiyera could enter; she closed the door behind her and walked over to her nightstand to light some candles. When she was done, she looked at Kiyera. She was standing in the room, just looking at her. She knew Kiyera was still shaken from that night; that's the only reason why she was there. Now was a good time to apologize for the fight they had had. It would help ease Kiyera's mind, even if it was just a little.
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“I'm sorry, Kiyera,” she started, scratching the back of her head. “About our fight. It was a stupid thing for us to get so upset about.” She paused then added, “I have a tendency to get hard-headed about things.”
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Kiyera shook her head. “It was my fault,” she said. “I shouldn't have got so worked up. I'm sorry, too.”
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Silence. Neither of them knew what to do next. It was awkward, both of them just standing there, looking at each other. At least the tension between them was no longer there, lightening the mood, evening if it was by the smallest amount.
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“Are you okay?” Shyra asked, finally. It was a stupid question. Of course Kiyera wasn't okay. If she were, she wouldn't be there.
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Shyra was about to apologize, when Kiyera walked over to the bed and sat down. <br>She laid her hands on her lap and looked down at them. “Ever since I was little,” she said, “I've dreamed of what my life would be like: going to school, graduating, falling in love, raising a family, and living my life to the fullest. And then,” she paused. “And then I came here, and everything changed.” She looked up at Shyra. “Ever since we've come here, I've been training myself to kill others. Honestly, I didn't think I'd ever use my training. I figured we'd be leaving for our world soon.”
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Shyra walked over and sat down next to Kiyera; she was beginning to tremble. “I-I killed a man, Shyra,” she whispered. “With my own two hands, I killed someone.” She looked up at her, and tears were in her eyes. “Do you know what that's like?” It was a rhetorical question; of course Shyra didn't know what that was like.
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Shyra wrapped her arm around Kiyera in a comforting embrace. “I'm so sorry, Kiyera,” she whispered. “I really am.” Kiyera broke down, her entire body trembling against Shyra's. A new torrent of tears fell across her cheeks, soaking Shyra's shirt. Shyra cooed her, resting her head on Kiyera's. She had no idea when she had become so nice to Kiyera of all people, but she felt bad for her. In a way, Shyra was glad that Kiyera had come to talk to her instead of someone else. Maybe they really could be friends.
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Shyra shut her eyes tighter as the morning sun's rays shone upon her face. She and Kiyera had ended up talking early into the morning, and she was still tired; it was only an hour past dawn. She yawned and stretched, her back a little cramped from sleeping against the bed; she had let Kiyera sleep in her bed that night. Shyra looked up at her and saw that she was still asleep, her breathing rhythmic. Her eyes were red-rimmed and she had dark circles under them, but she looked so peaceful. Shyra smiled.
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Noise from outside of Kiyera's room made Shyra turn. Slowly, she stood up; she was still a little stiff. She walked to the door and opened it, peering out into the hallway. Bain was standing outside of Kiyera's door, dressed for training.
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He knocked on her door. “Kiyera?” he said. “Are you up?”
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Shyra stepped into the hallway. “Bain?” she said. He looked over at her.
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“Oh, Shyra,” he said. “Have you seen Kiyera? She's late for her training.” He was concerned for her; either that or he was upset. Shyra looked into his eyes; he was definitely concerned.
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“Yeah,” she said. “She spent the night with me in my room. She just needed to talk.”
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“Oh,” Bain said. He paused, then asked: “Is she all right?”
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Shyra smiled and nodded. “Yes,” she said. “She's all right.”
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Comments
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SethsRazorbladeBitch on July 30, 2006, 1:30:51 AM
Good chapter ^^ Cool sounding festival. Poor Kiyera, I really feel for her.