Ok so this first Chapter is just the Prologue of how things came to be as they are. I wrote this chapter because Wrath of the Fey is the Third installment of my Blood Conflict Series. I'll be finishing this installment and then going back on One and Two at some point. It's a big project but one I've been passionate about for a while.
Chapters will be long because it's written as a book.
~:: P r o l o g u e ::~
K i d s N o M o r e
“My Lord, you cannot. You must not leave the castle, not as war rises to the East.” Dainne, a sentinel of the Royal Army stood before the King of Precipia.
“I will not be seen as a coward, Dainne. You are young and willful. You must understand that I cannot give up what little pleasures I have. I am going to the beach and that is final. Besides, it is not as though I am going to be ambushed upon the shore, Dainne.” The Great King Ceithne spoke with an air of finality.
“At least let someone accompany you, King Ceithne,” Dainne was insistent and the King sighed, knowing it was best to at least compromise rather than argue; Dainne was a stubborn young man.
“Just whom do you have in mind, young Sir?” Ceithne stared down at the form before him, already knowing the answer. He had come to look upon Dainne as the son he did not have. His long raven hair fell to his shoulders and his emerald eyes shone with a passion matched only by the King. As with all the King’s followers and kin, Dainnes’ eyes were slanted, turning upwards in a slight and graceful arc. His ears were long and elegantly pointed, betraying the fact that he was far from human. By the years of man, Dainne was around two hundred and twenty one years old, but for his own race, the man was exceedingly young for the people of Precipia were not of man, but of the Fey.
“Perhaps myself, My Lord?” Dainne glanced nervously at his king, taking in the glistening green eyes and strong cheekbones. The King’s hair was barely longer than that of Dainne and was of the same raven black. As was typical, flecks of color played through the shining sheet of hair, breaking up the monotony of the black. In Dainne and the King’s cases, this color was green.
“Or perhaps someone with powers a little more advanced,” came a voice from behind Ceithne. A small, old figure came forward, his back bent over his alder cane. The old Fey’s face was wrinkled and weathered, like good worn leather. His eyes were small and green, but glittered with great power and knowledge and his hair was no longer a healthy black; having changed to a dull grey. His presence commanded respect and he had been the Royal Advisor to the Cucuhulian family for the past eight centuries. His name was Diancecht.
“I do not doubt your courage as a soldier, young Master Dainne for I have personally seen the skill you wield with a blade in battle. You are, afterall, one of our champions. You take after you father. A fine man he is, a fine man indeed. However, if you wish your king to be safe, perhaps I would be of more use.” Diancecht surveyed the youth before him, his gnarled hand gripped firmly around the butt of his cane.
“Of course, Sir Diancecht,” Dainne bowed low. “I shall order your horses to be ready as soon as possible,” and with that, Dainne left the king and the Sage without a backwards glance.
“Ceithne, what is your true reason for returning to the beach? Is it the maiden?” Diancecht shifted his weight and glanced up at the king.
“You are wise, Diancecht. Maybe a little too wise. You know the true reason.”
“Yes, it is as I thought. The young maiden of the seas,” Diancecht’s eyes glittered sadly. “But she is of the water, Ceithne. She either does not desire to live upon the lands, or cannot.”
“I know… but there is something about her. I have to return to her. I … I love her, Diancecht, and I know she loves me too. I cannot simply give her up.” Ceithne looked towards the window of the hall, tears sparkling behind his eyes. The sun had risen to its’ peak, its’ light shining bright and warm upon the grounds below.
“I understand, my Lord. You may be correct. Come, if my intuition is not rusty, she will be waiting.”
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An hour later, the king’s black stallion trotted to a halt upon the golden white shore. He alighted softly upon the sand and almost immediately, a soft and silky voice rang out towards him. Diancecht remained seated upon his steed, his eyes gazing longingly out to the sea.
“Ceithne! Oh, Ceithne!”
Ceithne span to face the beautiful maiden running across the white grains towards him. The sunlight shone fiercely upon her pale skin, highlighting the soft blue tones beneath it. Her hair flew out in a shimmering platinum blonde sheet behind her, the sun catching the long silver and gold streaks that weaved through it. A thin white and silver gossamer cloak lay upon her shoulders, covering the pure snow hued silk dress she also wore. A delicate diadem of silver decorated her forehead and her silver eyes sparkled like diamonds as she dashed towards her lover. Her feet left no indentations upon the sand; it was as though she was flying over the grains. As she neared him, Ceithne caught her softly in his arms and held her close. Her hand went to his face, stroking his sharp features. The webbing of her hand appeared transparent in the light, yet only added to her beauty; for she was Princess Eva of the Water Fey.
“Eva…” Ceithne relished the touch of her cool skin against his and as he tilted her head, he was shocked to find tears streaming down her delicate cheeks. “My love, what is it?”
Choking back a sob, Eva answered. “My father… he says I have to stay within the borders of our land. I have to make a choice. You or my kin…” the tears fell in rivulets down her alabaster cheeks to drop to the white sand beneath their feet.
Ceithne felt as though his heart had been ripped out of his chest by the cruel hand of fate. “I understand…” he bent and kissed her upon the forehead. “You have to be with your kin…”
“No…” Eva sobbed, a small smile flittering across her face. “Ceithne, my darling. I chose you.”
“But… but Eva!” Ceithne stared at the beautiful woman in wonder.
“Ceithne, I cannot simply forsake our love. Destiny brought us together for a reason. There is something we must accomplish and only we can do so. If I was to stay with my family, father would only force me to marry some suitor I would never have any feelings for. You… I need to be with you. You are the one I want to share my life with. Here…” she peeled the thin cloak from her shoulders and pressed it into his hands. “Now I am bound to you for eternity.”
“Eva… I can’t take this…” Ceithne held the cloak in his hands, stroking the soft fabric.
“Yes, you can. Men would kill for the cloak of a water maiden… but you… I give it to you freely as a token of my love for you. I want you to have it… I want to be with you.”
Ceithne pulled the young woman close and kissed her softly upon her pale pink lips. “Oh Eva, I do love you.”
Diancecht looked on, an all knowing smile upon his wizened features.
Eight months later, in the spring following the ceremony, the new Queen began the labor of Precipia’s Princes.
The midday sun fell upon the palace and Eva was holding company with her Lady-in-Waiting, Sinde; Dainne’s wife – who was heavy with child herself - when a wave of contractions washed over her. Also with them was the Queen of Crystair, Precipia’s strongest ally, Crystal and her warrior daughters, Quartz and Ruby.
“Call for Hana,” Eva gasped through the torrent of pain as her waters broke around her. Sinde wasted no time and hurried from the room. Within minutes, a young fey woman rushed into the room, following in her wake was another girl carrying a jug of gently steaming water. Sinde brought the midwife a pile of soft white lined whilst Quartz disappeared to inform the King.
Five long and agonizing hours later, the first prince was born; Conn. Four hours after the arrival of his twin came Buinne. Both princes’ bore a most striking resemblance to their father and Eva held her two new sons close to her breast. Ceithne burst into the room, dragging Quartz behind him by her arm. When his eyes fell upon his sons, they filled to the brim with tears and he allowed them to fall as he observed his wife. Quartz looked slightly grim, her eyes darting to Diancecht as he came into the room, the same expression behind his wise eyes.
Although she was exhausted, the young Queen was still the image of perfection. Both Diancecht and Queen Crystal blessed the boys, a traditional ritual between Crystair and Precipia for it marked the unwavering loyalty between the two nations.
Just three days later marked the arrival of Eán, daughter of Sinde and Dainne.
Two peaceful years passed and the princes’ began to show their Fey fighting spirit and were constantly mock-tussling one another. Yet, as peaceful as it was within the borders, the threat of war was still rising in the East, the land of Man – Terrin – and Eva was getting edgy for the safety of her children.
“Ceithne, we cannot risk the children’s safety… something must be done.”
“My darling Eva, they will not attack us. They cannot even locate our borders thanks to Great Ether’s protection. Besides, our soldiers far surpass theirs, and our champions are the most powerful Fey Lord’s to ever wield a weapon,” Ceithne reassured his wife, but Eva was still worried.
Ceithne was right, for the Champions of that time were indeed incredibly strong warriors who could each take on thirty men with ease and come out without even so much as a bruise. Even Diancecht had to admit they held skill he had never before seen. Dainne the Bold, Aesal the Avenger, Tuas the Protector and Fiahcra the Merciless… these four men would defend Precipia until their last breath, but Aesal had something else to contend with.
Aesal’s wife, Maeve, brought his first – and only – child into the world and they named him Miach, on the eve of the first day of summer. Upon his crown he bore a shock of fine black hair streaked with green and his eyes shone with a fierce emerald light, flecked with sapphire; a strange occurrence within the Fey lands. Eyes of more than one color – or those that did not match the streaks within the Fey’s hair – hinted towards great things. The fact Miach was one of these special born alerted Diancecht to the fact that this young boy would grow into perhaps the fiercest warrior Precipia would ever see. Yet, with these great things came a fate that could rip apart those around him.
Yet, the happiness of Precipia rippled in waves as the child was born. For many years it had seemed the pure Fey blood line was fading, Fey women forced to breed with other races. But, now it seemed the purity was returned to its strongest. A couple of days later, Queen Eva announced her second pregnancy.
Whereas the first pregnancy had been relatively easy on the Queen, this one caused Eva a lot of trouble and pain. She would awaken early in the morning in a dripping cold sweat, or wake up screaming in the darkness. The one thing that kept her smiling throughout the ordeal was Quartz, ‘Warrior Princess of Crystair’ as she was known. Upon her latest visit, Quartz had brought a gift for the Queen, a beautiful young pure white horse with a silvery gold mane and tail – A pure Crystarian breed known as Zoax, known for their extraordinary long lives and strength and speed. The Princess had left with the instructions to pass the steed down to the one Eva knew to be destined to follow in her stead.
As the pregnancy drew into its fifth month, a sudden spasm of pain shook the young Queen’s body. Her eyes brimming with tears, she called for the only person she knew to be in the immediate vicinity. Conn and Buinne entered their parent’s room to find their mother collapsed on the floor, bathed in sweat and gasping for air. Buinne stifled a sob as Conn knelt beside the crumpled form of his mother. Her eyes flickered open and rested upon her eldest son. A smile full of pain and suffering crossed her features as she tried to put on a brave face for her petrified children. Conn gazed down at her and placed his hand upon her stomach. Tears ran down his cheeks as he leant forward and placed a loving kiss on her swollen bump. Buinne cried out.
“Mommy, you’re bleeding…” his voice quivered with sobs and Eva felt another wave of earth-shattering pain through her body. Conn jumped to his feet as the crimson pool spread from beneath their mother’s dress and instructed his brother to remain with her as he charged from the room. Seconds later, the King appeared, worrying etched into every line of his handsome face and Conn held in his arms. As his eyes fell upon the bloody pool his wife was laid in, he let out a cry. It was a cry filled with anguish and despair at seeing his beloved wife in such agony. Hana appeared then with jugs of water and linen and the King scooped up Buinne into his free arm and left the midwife to do her job, despite the pain he felt at leaving his wife when she needed him the most.
With Buinne beneath one arm and Conn nestled under his other, Ceithne listened to the agonized screams of his wife and found himself weeping openly for her.
Eva, more than exhausted and ragged from the labor, gazed lovingly at her babies. It had been absolute agony, yet it had been worth every ounce of pain she had had to endure. She named the first born, Fionuala. The second child she named Etain. She sobbed quietly as Ceithne and their sons entered, ashen faced and haggard looked from their night of waiting. She smiled as her sons as they peered into the blankets, joy playing evidently over their faces as they gazed for the first time upon their tiny sisters.
“Mommy, why does she look different?” Conn asked.
Ceithne hushed his son, yet when he peered into the blankets for himself, he realised the young prince was right. While Fionuala was dark haired and fair skinned, Etain bore white gold hair and pale, yet tinged blue skin. Fionuala had deep green eyes whereas Etains’ were silver grey. Both bore the fey slanting upwards eyes and pointed ears, yet Etains’ hands and feet were slightly webbed. Fionuala was the image of their father and Etain the image of their mother.
It didn’t matter to the king. His family was perfect. A beautiful wife, two handsome sons and now two daughters. It was the nature of water fey to always bear twins, Ceithne knew this, and in knowing, he also knew that his family could very well turn out to be the largest Precipia had ever seen.
Conn stroked the fair babe’s cheek. “I’m going to protect them both with my life…” he murmured, a look of determination and surety passing over his young face. Diancecht, who had entered quietly, looked on, a look of knowing on his old face.
The years seemed to fly past and the children grew. Although very alike, each developed a very distinct personality, setting them apart from their siblings. Conn was the most courageous of the four, always getting into some sort of trouble and more often than not, involving his brother and sisters too, for he was also the born leader; especially when it came to games such as war and fighting. Buinne was the witty one, the one everyone could rely on to make them smile when they felt down. Never without a smile and comforting words, he was also the most sensitive. Fionuala was the more mysterious one; the girl hardly ever spoke to anyone outside of her family and was rarely seen with a smile gracing her face. Some would refer to her as the moody one when out of earshot, which wasn’t too far from the truth, yet when alone with her siblings and close friends, Fionuala was a happy young girl. Etain was the graceful one, elegant and beautiful. She was always worried about the general wellbeing of those around her as well as being incredibly attuned to their emotions at any given time.
And it was not just each other they developed an unbreakable bond with over the years. Eán became a very firm friend to the twin girls and Miach to the boys. And more often than not, the Princess of Crystair was seen amongst their numbers, training and creating a unity that would prove to be most vital to the Fey; whether they realised this at the time or not was a completely different matter.
On the Princesses’ seventeenth birthday, the Queen gave Etain a very special gift. It was made of the finest gossamer silk and was so thin that it felt like air between the fingertips. This would become one of Etain’s most precious possessions; her own water maiden’s cloak.
Though peaceful within the borders, this did not stop disaster from striking the Kingdom of Precipia. Sir Aesal received fatal wounds in battle against the human army of Terrin when his army had been sent to protect the City of Yaatia. Managing to ride home, the valiant hero – for even with his life threatening injuries, Aesal had fought on and brought victory to his men and saved Yaatia from having to resort to a drawn out siege – later died in his wife’s arms, his son vowing revenge. From that moment, Miach became more withdrawn, rarely laughing or joking with his closest friends.
Dainne fell ill after drinking water from the well of the humans. It was later discovered that it had been tainted with poison and before an antidote could be created to counteract the toxin, Dainne passed away. This devastated Eán, and she – like Miach – changed from her normal smiling self, to a girl shrouded in sadness.
Fiahcra was the next to fall. He died at the hands of an inhuman army whilst trying to protect the small forest of elves to the south of Precipia. His body was never recovered and therefore, Diancecht and the Royal Alchemist could only assume he had been taken by the beasts or eaten.
Then, just when the King didn’t think it could get any worse, Tuas was assassinated in the dead of night by someone within the Castle walls. Not only did Ceithne have to deal with the fact all four of his greatest champions were now dead, but there was also a traitor within his home.
Finding warriors to replace the late Champions was not going to be easy, or so he thought. It seemed, that with intense training from The Warrior Princess, his own children were more than capable of stepping up to the challenge and each insisted upon it. Knowing that no others rivaled their combat skills, Ceithne eventually relented, despite Eva’s emotional objections.
The time finally came for the Champions to be knighted and given their specialized weapons that the finest blacksmiths could create. It was the first time the weapons had been especially forged to suit the Champion. The previous Champions had all been master swordsmen, but this was not the case with the new generation. And so it had come; the day of the Knighting.
Diancecht stood beside the King and Queen, his face set resolutely in an expression of wise understanding; an expression that seemed to be constantly upon his features. King Ceithne was putting on a brave face, trying not to show his worry. The Queen was not so successful in hiding her anxiety; it lined every line of her perfect face. The same expression was fixed upon Sinde and Maeve’s faces.
“Today we celebrate the ascension of new Champions. We mourn the loss of those four brave we lost recently, but our kingdom needs protecting. This is the job of the Royal Champions, and the job now falls to our new warriors.” His tone wavered slightly, but a reassuring hand on his arm forced calm back into it. “Prince Conn the Courageous, son of King Ceithne and Queen Eva, Prince of Precipia.” There was a gasp as Conn knelt silently before his father. He was clad in a tarnished breastplate of a rich gold color that was incredibly thin to allow maximum mobility, yet gave the best protection possible as it was wrought by the Dwarven Blacksmiths that lived in Precipia. The king took a long sword from one of his Army Generals, Necca, and touched it to his son’s shoulders. “Rise, Sir Conn Cucuhulian, Champion of Precipia.” He waited for the boy to rise and handed a second – sheathed - sword to him. It was over three quarters his height – and Conn stood at a good six foot five inches tall – and the hilt was made of silver, the guard depicting a lion’s head. Tiny sapphires were set into the hilt and guard. The blade itself was pristine silver steel and as Conn unsheathed it, the metal sang out as it cut easily through the air. As he slid it back into the protective holding, he smiled at his father. A small dagger was also pressed into his palm. This weapon was about the length of his hand and carried the family’s crest upon the hilt which was set with three small sapphires.
“Prince Buinne the Determined, son of King Ceithne and Queen Eva, Prince of Precipia.” Buinne did the same as his brother, his head bowed respectfully as he knelt before his father; the king. Ceithne followed the same procedure and another sword was passed into his hands. “Rise, Sir Buinne Cucuhulian, Champion of Precipia.” He handed it into his son’s hands as he rose. Shorter than the other, the hilt was golden with a large sapphire set within the butt. Its’ blade was half his height – Buinne stood at the same six foot five height as his twin – and hissed like a snake as it was drawn. Buinne smiled his thanks, the expression soft as a longbow was then held out to him. He took it, sliding the sword into his belt. The bow was made of the strongest and most limber yew. The string, Buinne noticed, was made from hair that had come from his mother for it was long known there is no stronger material for bowstring in Precipia than the hair of a pure blooded water fey. The arrows were slender and feathered gold. They had been bewitched by the most powerful of magicks to always find their way back to the one who shot them. Buinne stood beside his brother, a look of pride on his face that mirrored the one upon Conn’s.
“Miach the Bold, son of the late Sir Aesal and Lady Maeve.” Miach could barely suppress the look of shock that crossed his face. Why was he being made a Champion? He did the only thing he could think of and stepped up before the king. At six foot three, he stood four inches shorter than the King; a difference he increased by falling to one knee. Ceithne touched his sword to the boy’s shoulders. “Rise, Sir Miach Diancecht, Champion of Precipia.” Two swords were brought forth this time, thinner than the others. Ceithne handed them to the newly knighted boy. The twin blades were delicately forged, the hilt of each holding a single pale green stone. The blades were not made of steel, but moonsilver, the surfaces glinting like the face of the moon beneath the light. A longbow was also passed into his hands. Again the string was made of the Queen’s hair but the bow itself was made of redwood; easily more durable as the yew, and just a tad more flexible. The feathers upon the slender arrows were silver, enchanted in the same way as Buinne’s.
“Eán the Fair, Daughter of the late Sir Dainne and Lady Sinde.” Eán, also shocked at the news she was being made a champion, stood and stepped gracefully forward. Her dark raven locks fell to her waist, the streaks a paler green than most. Her eyes were also pale, a beautiful jade green in color, and as she glanced up at her king – for she stood at five foot seven, they glittered with pride. She knelt and waited as Ceithne pressed his blade to her shoulders. “Rise, Lady Eán Kemoch, Champion of Precipia.” She stood to receive her arms. A small sword was to be her first weapon. It was ornately designed, the hilt made to fit to her delicate hands. A small scimitar was also handed to her. White stones decorated the hilt and she felt it mold to her grip as she held it in her palm.
“Princess Fionuala the Serene, Daughter of King Ceithne and Queen Eva, Princess of Precipia.” Fionuala flowed towards her father and sank to her knee in an almost dancer like movement. The sword was touched to her shoulders and she stood with a fiercely proud look behind her leaf green eyes as her father spoke. “Rise, Lady Fionuala Cucuhulian, Champion of Precipia.” A pair of razor sharp claws that fit securely over her hands to stay firmly in place until she wished to remove them were passed to her. Their teeth glinted menacingly as she held them to the light, admiring the craftsmanship. A small silver axe, gold running down the shaft was to be her second weapon. Onyx stones sat within the hilt. Fionuala nodded and smiled before stepping aside for her twin.
“Princess Etain, Daughter of King Ciethne and Queen Eva, Princess of Precipia.” Etain looked a little pale as she knelt before her sire. He gently touched her shoulders with his blade. “Rise, Lady Etain Cucuhulian, Champion of Precipia.” Etain did as commanded, tears standing in her pale eyes. Ceithne gave her a reassuring smile as he took the fans one of his attendants now held. Passing them to her, his hand strayed to her cheek, wiping away a tear as it slid down it. The fans were made of very fine steel, tipped with silver. They were intricately made, razor-sharp. Etain flicked one open and glanced at it. Precipia’s crest was engraved upon the fine metal, glittering almost beneath the light as she moved it. The fans had been imbued with magick so that if thrown, they would act as a boomerang would and return to their owner. Ceithne then passed her a thin longsword, which she drew carefully from its’ sheath. The blade whispered through the air as the Princess dragged it slowly from its’ holding place. The hilt was silver with one small white stone set within it. With a slight nod, she allowed it to flow back into the sheath and took her place beside the others.
King Ceithne looked at the six before turning his attention to those who had come to witness the Knighting. “Here starts a new era. Behold, Precipia’s finest warriors. Gaze upon our Champions and know our Kingdom is in safe hands.”
The six young champions pressed their right arm forwards, the palm flat to the crowd. In unison they brought their palms into a fist as they placed them over their chest, right upon their hearts. Their voices were clear, pride and loyalty seeping into every syllable. “We live to protect the people of Precipia. Upon our lives do we swear to guard our lands from our enemies.”
The Knighting was over and Queen Eva finally allowed her tears to fall. Diancecht closed his eyes almost sadly. He knew the hardships and suffering that lay ahead of the new Champions. He also knew there was very little he could do to alter or ease it.
Chapters will be long because it's written as a book.
~:: P r o l o g u e ::~
K i d s N o M o r e
“My Lord, you cannot. You must not leave the castle, not as war rises to the East.” Dainne, a sentinel of the Royal Army stood before the King of Precipia.
“I will not be seen as a coward, Dainne. You are young and willful. You must understand that I cannot give up what little pleasures I have. I am going to the beach and that is final. Besides, it is not as though I am going to be ambushed upon the shore, Dainne.” The Great King Ceithne spoke with an air of finality.
“At least let someone accompany you, King Ceithne,” Dainne was insistent and the King sighed, knowing it was best to at least compromise rather than argue; Dainne was a stubborn young man.
“Just whom do you have in mind, young Sir?” Ceithne stared down at the form before him, already knowing the answer. He had come to look upon Dainne as the son he did not have. His long raven hair fell to his shoulders and his emerald eyes shone with a passion matched only by the King. As with all the King’s followers and kin, Dainnes’ eyes were slanted, turning upwards in a slight and graceful arc. His ears were long and elegantly pointed, betraying the fact that he was far from human. By the years of man, Dainne was around two hundred and twenty one years old, but for his own race, the man was exceedingly young for the people of Precipia were not of man, but of the Fey.
“Perhaps myself, My Lord?” Dainne glanced nervously at his king, taking in the glistening green eyes and strong cheekbones. The King’s hair was barely longer than that of Dainne and was of the same raven black. As was typical, flecks of color played through the shining sheet of hair, breaking up the monotony of the black. In Dainne and the King’s cases, this color was green.
“Or perhaps someone with powers a little more advanced,” came a voice from behind Ceithne. A small, old figure came forward, his back bent over his alder cane. The old Fey’s face was wrinkled and weathered, like good worn leather. His eyes were small and green, but glittered with great power and knowledge and his hair was no longer a healthy black; having changed to a dull grey. His presence commanded respect and he had been the Royal Advisor to the Cucuhulian family for the past eight centuries. His name was Diancecht.
“I do not doubt your courage as a soldier, young Master Dainne for I have personally seen the skill you wield with a blade in battle. You are, afterall, one of our champions. You take after you father. A fine man he is, a fine man indeed. However, if you wish your king to be safe, perhaps I would be of more use.” Diancecht surveyed the youth before him, his gnarled hand gripped firmly around the butt of his cane.
“Of course, Sir Diancecht,” Dainne bowed low. “I shall order your horses to be ready as soon as possible,” and with that, Dainne left the king and the Sage without a backwards glance.
“Ceithne, what is your true reason for returning to the beach? Is it the maiden?” Diancecht shifted his weight and glanced up at the king.
“You are wise, Diancecht. Maybe a little too wise. You know the true reason.”
“Yes, it is as I thought. The young maiden of the seas,” Diancecht’s eyes glittered sadly. “But she is of the water, Ceithne. She either does not desire to live upon the lands, or cannot.”
“I know… but there is something about her. I have to return to her. I … I love her, Diancecht, and I know she loves me too. I cannot simply give her up.” Ceithne looked towards the window of the hall, tears sparkling behind his eyes. The sun had risen to its’ peak, its’ light shining bright and warm upon the grounds below.
“I understand, my Lord. You may be correct. Come, if my intuition is not rusty, she will be waiting.”
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An hour later, the king’s black stallion trotted to a halt upon the golden white shore. He alighted softly upon the sand and almost immediately, a soft and silky voice rang out towards him. Diancecht remained seated upon his steed, his eyes gazing longingly out to the sea.
“Ceithne! Oh, Ceithne!”
Ceithne span to face the beautiful maiden running across the white grains towards him. The sunlight shone fiercely upon her pale skin, highlighting the soft blue tones beneath it. Her hair flew out in a shimmering platinum blonde sheet behind her, the sun catching the long silver and gold streaks that weaved through it. A thin white and silver gossamer cloak lay upon her shoulders, covering the pure snow hued silk dress she also wore. A delicate diadem of silver decorated her forehead and her silver eyes sparkled like diamonds as she dashed towards her lover. Her feet left no indentations upon the sand; it was as though she was flying over the grains. As she neared him, Ceithne caught her softly in his arms and held her close. Her hand went to his face, stroking his sharp features. The webbing of her hand appeared transparent in the light, yet only added to her beauty; for she was Princess Eva of the Water Fey.
“Eva…” Ceithne relished the touch of her cool skin against his and as he tilted her head, he was shocked to find tears streaming down her delicate cheeks. “My love, what is it?”
Choking back a sob, Eva answered. “My father… he says I have to stay within the borders of our land. I have to make a choice. You or my kin…” the tears fell in rivulets down her alabaster cheeks to drop to the white sand beneath their feet.
Ceithne felt as though his heart had been ripped out of his chest by the cruel hand of fate. “I understand…” he bent and kissed her upon the forehead. “You have to be with your kin…”
“No…” Eva sobbed, a small smile flittering across her face. “Ceithne, my darling. I chose you.”
“But… but Eva!” Ceithne stared at the beautiful woman in wonder.
“Ceithne, I cannot simply forsake our love. Destiny brought us together for a reason. There is something we must accomplish and only we can do so. If I was to stay with my family, father would only force me to marry some suitor I would never have any feelings for. You… I need to be with you. You are the one I want to share my life with. Here…” she peeled the thin cloak from her shoulders and pressed it into his hands. “Now I am bound to you for eternity.”
“Eva… I can’t take this…” Ceithne held the cloak in his hands, stroking the soft fabric.
“Yes, you can. Men would kill for the cloak of a water maiden… but you… I give it to you freely as a token of my love for you. I want you to have it… I want to be with you.”
Ceithne pulled the young woman close and kissed her softly upon her pale pink lips. “Oh Eva, I do love you.”
Diancecht looked on, an all knowing smile upon his wizened features.
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It was no more than a month later when King Ceithne of Precipia and Princess Eva of Hydria were wed in the most beautiful ceremony ever seen within Precipia’s borders. The citizens of Precipia and the surrounding kingdoms flocked in droves to see the strange pairing. Even the Royalty of neighboring countries attended the union, each blessing the pair with their vows of loyalty and honor. There was not a dry eye in the hall as the King and his Queen proclaimed their undying love to one another.
Eight months later, in the spring following the ceremony, the new Queen began the labor of Precipia’s Princes.
The midday sun fell upon the palace and Eva was holding company with her Lady-in-Waiting, Sinde; Dainne’s wife – who was heavy with child herself - when a wave of contractions washed over her. Also with them was the Queen of Crystair, Precipia’s strongest ally, Crystal and her warrior daughters, Quartz and Ruby.
“Call for Hana,” Eva gasped through the torrent of pain as her waters broke around her. Sinde wasted no time and hurried from the room. Within minutes, a young fey woman rushed into the room, following in her wake was another girl carrying a jug of gently steaming water. Sinde brought the midwife a pile of soft white lined whilst Quartz disappeared to inform the King.
Five long and agonizing hours later, the first prince was born; Conn. Four hours after the arrival of his twin came Buinne. Both princes’ bore a most striking resemblance to their father and Eva held her two new sons close to her breast. Ceithne burst into the room, dragging Quartz behind him by her arm. When his eyes fell upon his sons, they filled to the brim with tears and he allowed them to fall as he observed his wife. Quartz looked slightly grim, her eyes darting to Diancecht as he came into the room, the same expression behind his wise eyes.
Although she was exhausted, the young Queen was still the image of perfection. Both Diancecht and Queen Crystal blessed the boys, a traditional ritual between Crystair and Precipia for it marked the unwavering loyalty between the two nations.
Just three days later marked the arrival of Eán, daughter of Sinde and Dainne.
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Two peaceful years passed and the princes’ began to show their Fey fighting spirit and were constantly mock-tussling one another. Yet, as peaceful as it was within the borders, the threat of war was still rising in the East, the land of Man – Terrin – and Eva was getting edgy for the safety of her children.
“Ceithne, we cannot risk the children’s safety… something must be done.”
“My darling Eva, they will not attack us. They cannot even locate our borders thanks to Great Ether’s protection. Besides, our soldiers far surpass theirs, and our champions are the most powerful Fey Lord’s to ever wield a weapon,” Ceithne reassured his wife, but Eva was still worried.
Ceithne was right, for the Champions of that time were indeed incredibly strong warriors who could each take on thirty men with ease and come out without even so much as a bruise. Even Diancecht had to admit they held skill he had never before seen. Dainne the Bold, Aesal the Avenger, Tuas the Protector and Fiahcra the Merciless… these four men would defend Precipia until their last breath, but Aesal had something else to contend with.
Aesal’s wife, Maeve, brought his first – and only – child into the world and they named him Miach, on the eve of the first day of summer. Upon his crown he bore a shock of fine black hair streaked with green and his eyes shone with a fierce emerald light, flecked with sapphire; a strange occurrence within the Fey lands. Eyes of more than one color – or those that did not match the streaks within the Fey’s hair – hinted towards great things. The fact Miach was one of these special born alerted Diancecht to the fact that this young boy would grow into perhaps the fiercest warrior Precipia would ever see. Yet, with these great things came a fate that could rip apart those around him.
Yet, the happiness of Precipia rippled in waves as the child was born. For many years it had seemed the pure Fey blood line was fading, Fey women forced to breed with other races. But, now it seemed the purity was returned to its strongest. A couple of days later, Queen Eva announced her second pregnancy.
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Whereas the first pregnancy had been relatively easy on the Queen, this one caused Eva a lot of trouble and pain. She would awaken early in the morning in a dripping cold sweat, or wake up screaming in the darkness. The one thing that kept her smiling throughout the ordeal was Quartz, ‘Warrior Princess of Crystair’ as she was known. Upon her latest visit, Quartz had brought a gift for the Queen, a beautiful young pure white horse with a silvery gold mane and tail – A pure Crystarian breed known as Zoax, known for their extraordinary long lives and strength and speed. The Princess had left with the instructions to pass the steed down to the one Eva knew to be destined to follow in her stead.
As the pregnancy drew into its fifth month, a sudden spasm of pain shook the young Queen’s body. Her eyes brimming with tears, she called for the only person she knew to be in the immediate vicinity. Conn and Buinne entered their parent’s room to find their mother collapsed on the floor, bathed in sweat and gasping for air. Buinne stifled a sob as Conn knelt beside the crumpled form of his mother. Her eyes flickered open and rested upon her eldest son. A smile full of pain and suffering crossed her features as she tried to put on a brave face for her petrified children. Conn gazed down at her and placed his hand upon her stomach. Tears ran down his cheeks as he leant forward and placed a loving kiss on her swollen bump. Buinne cried out.
“Mommy, you’re bleeding…” his voice quivered with sobs and Eva felt another wave of earth-shattering pain through her body. Conn jumped to his feet as the crimson pool spread from beneath their mother’s dress and instructed his brother to remain with her as he charged from the room. Seconds later, the King appeared, worrying etched into every line of his handsome face and Conn held in his arms. As his eyes fell upon the bloody pool his wife was laid in, he let out a cry. It was a cry filled with anguish and despair at seeing his beloved wife in such agony. Hana appeared then with jugs of water and linen and the King scooped up Buinne into his free arm and left the midwife to do her job, despite the pain he felt at leaving his wife when she needed him the most.
With Buinne beneath one arm and Conn nestled under his other, Ceithne listened to the agonized screams of his wife and found himself weeping openly for her.
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As the sun set and the full moon rose, the Queen gave a last agonized push and the room was filled with a baby’s cries. Tears leaked from Eva’s eyes as she gazed at her beautiful new born daughter. Fine black hair streaked green and emerald eyes, pale skin and delicate fingers; the baby was perfect. Yet the happiness she felt was short-lived as pain once more racked her body. Wave after wave cascaded over her and she was lost to the torment her body was being put through. It wasn’t until dawn broke, and the Queen was nearing the end of her strength, that the second child came into the world. As the baby screamed its’ entrance, it was accompanied by the cries of baby Miach.
Eva, more than exhausted and ragged from the labor, gazed lovingly at her babies. It had been absolute agony, yet it had been worth every ounce of pain she had had to endure. She named the first born, Fionuala. The second child she named Etain. She sobbed quietly as Ceithne and their sons entered, ashen faced and haggard looked from their night of waiting. She smiled as her sons as they peered into the blankets, joy playing evidently over their faces as they gazed for the first time upon their tiny sisters.
“Mommy, why does she look different?” Conn asked.
Ceithne hushed his son, yet when he peered into the blankets for himself, he realised the young prince was right. While Fionuala was dark haired and fair skinned, Etain bore white gold hair and pale, yet tinged blue skin. Fionuala had deep green eyes whereas Etains’ were silver grey. Both bore the fey slanting upwards eyes and pointed ears, yet Etains’ hands and feet were slightly webbed. Fionuala was the image of their father and Etain the image of their mother.
It didn’t matter to the king. His family was perfect. A beautiful wife, two handsome sons and now two daughters. It was the nature of water fey to always bear twins, Ceithne knew this, and in knowing, he also knew that his family could very well turn out to be the largest Precipia had ever seen.
Conn stroked the fair babe’s cheek. “I’m going to protect them both with my life…” he murmured, a look of determination and surety passing over his young face. Diancecht, who had entered quietly, looked on, a look of knowing on his old face.
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The years seemed to fly past and the children grew. Although very alike, each developed a very distinct personality, setting them apart from their siblings. Conn was the most courageous of the four, always getting into some sort of trouble and more often than not, involving his brother and sisters too, for he was also the born leader; especially when it came to games such as war and fighting. Buinne was the witty one, the one everyone could rely on to make them smile when they felt down. Never without a smile and comforting words, he was also the most sensitive. Fionuala was the more mysterious one; the girl hardly ever spoke to anyone outside of her family and was rarely seen with a smile gracing her face. Some would refer to her as the moody one when out of earshot, which wasn’t too far from the truth, yet when alone with her siblings and close friends, Fionuala was a happy young girl. Etain was the graceful one, elegant and beautiful. She was always worried about the general wellbeing of those around her as well as being incredibly attuned to their emotions at any given time.
And it was not just each other they developed an unbreakable bond with over the years. Eán became a very firm friend to the twin girls and Miach to the boys. And more often than not, the Princess of Crystair was seen amongst their numbers, training and creating a unity that would prove to be most vital to the Fey; whether they realised this at the time or not was a completely different matter.
On the Princesses’ seventeenth birthday, the Queen gave Etain a very special gift. It was made of the finest gossamer silk and was so thin that it felt like air between the fingertips. This would become one of Etain’s most precious possessions; her own water maiden’s cloak.
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Though peaceful within the borders, this did not stop disaster from striking the Kingdom of Precipia. Sir Aesal received fatal wounds in battle against the human army of Terrin when his army had been sent to protect the City of Yaatia. Managing to ride home, the valiant hero – for even with his life threatening injuries, Aesal had fought on and brought victory to his men and saved Yaatia from having to resort to a drawn out siege – later died in his wife’s arms, his son vowing revenge. From that moment, Miach became more withdrawn, rarely laughing or joking with his closest friends.
Dainne fell ill after drinking water from the well of the humans. It was later discovered that it had been tainted with poison and before an antidote could be created to counteract the toxin, Dainne passed away. This devastated Eán, and she – like Miach – changed from her normal smiling self, to a girl shrouded in sadness.
Fiahcra was the next to fall. He died at the hands of an inhuman army whilst trying to protect the small forest of elves to the south of Precipia. His body was never recovered and therefore, Diancecht and the Royal Alchemist could only assume he had been taken by the beasts or eaten.
Then, just when the King didn’t think it could get any worse, Tuas was assassinated in the dead of night by someone within the Castle walls. Not only did Ceithne have to deal with the fact all four of his greatest champions were now dead, but there was also a traitor within his home.
Finding warriors to replace the late Champions was not going to be easy, or so he thought. It seemed, that with intense training from The Warrior Princess, his own children were more than capable of stepping up to the challenge and each insisted upon it. Knowing that no others rivaled their combat skills, Ceithne eventually relented, despite Eva’s emotional objections.
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The time finally came for the Champions to be knighted and given their specialized weapons that the finest blacksmiths could create. It was the first time the weapons had been especially forged to suit the Champion. The previous Champions had all been master swordsmen, but this was not the case with the new generation. And so it had come; the day of the Knighting.
Diancecht stood beside the King and Queen, his face set resolutely in an expression of wise understanding; an expression that seemed to be constantly upon his features. King Ceithne was putting on a brave face, trying not to show his worry. The Queen was not so successful in hiding her anxiety; it lined every line of her perfect face. The same expression was fixed upon Sinde and Maeve’s faces.
“Today we celebrate the ascension of new Champions. We mourn the loss of those four brave we lost recently, but our kingdom needs protecting. This is the job of the Royal Champions, and the job now falls to our new warriors.” His tone wavered slightly, but a reassuring hand on his arm forced calm back into it. “Prince Conn the Courageous, son of King Ceithne and Queen Eva, Prince of Precipia.” There was a gasp as Conn knelt silently before his father. He was clad in a tarnished breastplate of a rich gold color that was incredibly thin to allow maximum mobility, yet gave the best protection possible as it was wrought by the Dwarven Blacksmiths that lived in Precipia. The king took a long sword from one of his Army Generals, Necca, and touched it to his son’s shoulders. “Rise, Sir Conn Cucuhulian, Champion of Precipia.” He waited for the boy to rise and handed a second – sheathed - sword to him. It was over three quarters his height – and Conn stood at a good six foot five inches tall – and the hilt was made of silver, the guard depicting a lion’s head. Tiny sapphires were set into the hilt and guard. The blade itself was pristine silver steel and as Conn unsheathed it, the metal sang out as it cut easily through the air. As he slid it back into the protective holding, he smiled at his father. A small dagger was also pressed into his palm. This weapon was about the length of his hand and carried the family’s crest upon the hilt which was set with three small sapphires.
“Prince Buinne the Determined, son of King Ceithne and Queen Eva, Prince of Precipia.” Buinne did the same as his brother, his head bowed respectfully as he knelt before his father; the king. Ceithne followed the same procedure and another sword was passed into his hands. “Rise, Sir Buinne Cucuhulian, Champion of Precipia.” He handed it into his son’s hands as he rose. Shorter than the other, the hilt was golden with a large sapphire set within the butt. Its’ blade was half his height – Buinne stood at the same six foot five height as his twin – and hissed like a snake as it was drawn. Buinne smiled his thanks, the expression soft as a longbow was then held out to him. He took it, sliding the sword into his belt. The bow was made of the strongest and most limber yew. The string, Buinne noticed, was made from hair that had come from his mother for it was long known there is no stronger material for bowstring in Precipia than the hair of a pure blooded water fey. The arrows were slender and feathered gold. They had been bewitched by the most powerful of magicks to always find their way back to the one who shot them. Buinne stood beside his brother, a look of pride on his face that mirrored the one upon Conn’s.
“Miach the Bold, son of the late Sir Aesal and Lady Maeve.” Miach could barely suppress the look of shock that crossed his face. Why was he being made a Champion? He did the only thing he could think of and stepped up before the king. At six foot three, he stood four inches shorter than the King; a difference he increased by falling to one knee. Ceithne touched his sword to the boy’s shoulders. “Rise, Sir Miach Diancecht, Champion of Precipia.” Two swords were brought forth this time, thinner than the others. Ceithne handed them to the newly knighted boy. The twin blades were delicately forged, the hilt of each holding a single pale green stone. The blades were not made of steel, but moonsilver, the surfaces glinting like the face of the moon beneath the light. A longbow was also passed into his hands. Again the string was made of the Queen’s hair but the bow itself was made of redwood; easily more durable as the yew, and just a tad more flexible. The feathers upon the slender arrows were silver, enchanted in the same way as Buinne’s.
“Eán the Fair, Daughter of the late Sir Dainne and Lady Sinde.” Eán, also shocked at the news she was being made a champion, stood and stepped gracefully forward. Her dark raven locks fell to her waist, the streaks a paler green than most. Her eyes were also pale, a beautiful jade green in color, and as she glanced up at her king – for she stood at five foot seven, they glittered with pride. She knelt and waited as Ceithne pressed his blade to her shoulders. “Rise, Lady Eán Kemoch, Champion of Precipia.” She stood to receive her arms. A small sword was to be her first weapon. It was ornately designed, the hilt made to fit to her delicate hands. A small scimitar was also handed to her. White stones decorated the hilt and she felt it mold to her grip as she held it in her palm.
“Princess Fionuala the Serene, Daughter of King Ceithne and Queen Eva, Princess of Precipia.” Fionuala flowed towards her father and sank to her knee in an almost dancer like movement. The sword was touched to her shoulders and she stood with a fiercely proud look behind her leaf green eyes as her father spoke. “Rise, Lady Fionuala Cucuhulian, Champion of Precipia.” A pair of razor sharp claws that fit securely over her hands to stay firmly in place until she wished to remove them were passed to her. Their teeth glinted menacingly as she held them to the light, admiring the craftsmanship. A small silver axe, gold running down the shaft was to be her second weapon. Onyx stones sat within the hilt. Fionuala nodded and smiled before stepping aside for her twin.
“Princess Etain, Daughter of King Ciethne and Queen Eva, Princess of Precipia.” Etain looked a little pale as she knelt before her sire. He gently touched her shoulders with his blade. “Rise, Lady Etain Cucuhulian, Champion of Precipia.” Etain did as commanded, tears standing in her pale eyes. Ceithne gave her a reassuring smile as he took the fans one of his attendants now held. Passing them to her, his hand strayed to her cheek, wiping away a tear as it slid down it. The fans were made of very fine steel, tipped with silver. They were intricately made, razor-sharp. Etain flicked one open and glanced at it. Precipia’s crest was engraved upon the fine metal, glittering almost beneath the light as she moved it. The fans had been imbued with magick so that if thrown, they would act as a boomerang would and return to their owner. Ceithne then passed her a thin longsword, which she drew carefully from its’ sheath. The blade whispered through the air as the Princess dragged it slowly from its’ holding place. The hilt was silver with one small white stone set within it. With a slight nod, she allowed it to flow back into the sheath and took her place beside the others.
King Ceithne looked at the six before turning his attention to those who had come to witness the Knighting. “Here starts a new era. Behold, Precipia’s finest warriors. Gaze upon our Champions and know our Kingdom is in safe hands.”
The six young champions pressed their right arm forwards, the palm flat to the crowd. In unison they brought their palms into a fist as they placed them over their chest, right upon their hearts. Their voices were clear, pride and loyalty seeping into every syllable. “We live to protect the people of Precipia. Upon our lives do we swear to guard our lands from our enemies.”
The Knighting was over and Queen Eva finally allowed her tears to fall. Diancecht closed his eyes almost sadly. He knew the hardships and suffering that lay ahead of the new Champions. He also knew there was very little he could do to alter or ease it.
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