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The Fall of Genectel - Revenge
Genectelian Sea - 04/05/2011
Dicora took a deep breath as the sea breeze whipped her purple hair against the fiery orange skin of her cheeks. Her plan was finally beginning to come together. She would rule the land of Genectel. Vimor and Serin would pay for the folly of their ancestors and her people would finally have their vengeance.
As the ship decked in silver carvings of dragons set against wood painted nearly as brightly as Dicora’s skin rocked against the waves of the black sea, Her eyes turned to her son. He was sleeping in a cot he had placed between two of the boat’s posts. She shook her head. That boy was good for nothing if not for the pursuing of his own comfort. She couldn’t blame him. He had seen some horrible things in the past couple months. Dicora grinned at the thought. “You will have all the comforts that can be afforded you quite soon my fool of a son.”
With that, she returned her gaze to gentle waves gliding before her. Nothing was in sight yet; but that did not bother her in the slightest. Her magic had not led her astray before. Despite their lack of a crew, they would soon be in Genectel and she would stand as Guardian once again. The souls of her wards would be released and she would find her eyes.
“Yes,” she thought to herself, “soon indeed.”
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
18/06/2011
“Aughraysiah! Lower your stance!”
The princess groaned in frustration as her name was called by her instructor for the third time that morning. Every single one of her classmates had at least some prior training with the sword before entering the academy. Although her magical theatrics had induced much applause at the orientation ceremony a few months ago, she had soon learned that they were not appreciated in swordsmanship class. She had never been scolded so often in her life, especially if the strictness of her mother, Queen Serin, was taken into consideration.
Nonetheless, Aughraysiah was determined to excel, despite her discomfort. “If I cannot be the best, I should at least be decent,” she thought as she placed her feet a little more than shoulder-length apart and bent her knees, keeping her back straight.
“Much better Miss Ekroy!” the teacher shouted from the other end of the training field where he was observing a sparring match between two more advanced students. The classmate on her left snickered. He was tall and handsome with his plump pink lips, deep dimples, sharp jawline, and almond-shaped eyes; but was only slightly better in class than Aughraysiah. She turned away from him before she was caught staring.
“If I can do better than him by the end of the term, I will treat myself to a new purple silk dress,” she mused before feeling a sharp pain on her left calf. The pain came with weight heavy enough to lift the leg from its perfectly sensible position under her. Rather than seeing the jerking movements of her secret class rival, she was staring at the brightness of the blue sun’s rays tinting the stretch of white clouds.
“If you plan to do better than me, we should spar,” a voice said from above her. Once she regained her focus, Aughraysiah realized with disdain that it was the tall boy who had been practicing next to her. Ignoring the hand of assistance he offered her, Aughraysiah rose gracefully, turned her full back to him, and returned to practicing her stance.
In about sixty seconds she was again being made to observe the effect of the blue sun on the clouds above her. “Don’t ignore me, your Highness,” the boy sneered. “A rival is a dangerous person to stay unguarded around.” Heat filled Aughraysiah’s head at the boy’s words. Without thinking, she grabbed the leg of his trousers. Flames danced from her fingers to the cloth, engulfing his trousers. At first, the boy’s face held disbelief, then panic as he dropped to the floor and began to roll in an attempt to put out the magical fire.
At that point, Aughraysiah and the boy had made a spectacle of themselves before the entire class. No one was practicing or sparring anymore. Even the teacher watched for a few minutes in amusement before clearing his throat and raising an eyebrow at Aughraysiah. Rolling her eye, Aughraysiah raised her hand and clenched her fist, effectively extinguishing the flames.
Seeing the fire out, the boy leaped from the ground and bounded toward Aughraysiah. “You owe me a new pair of pants!”
“I owe you no such thing,” Aughraysiah smirked. “You clothing, though a bit dirty from all your rolling, has obtained no fire-related damage.”
Realization and embarrassment fought for dominance on the boy’s face and Aughraysiah turned away from him and walked toward the teacher.
The teacher sighed as Aughraysiah stopped about two feet away from him. “You do realize that I cannot let you let you go undisciplined just because he started it, right?”
“I never expected you to.”
“Good. As punishment, you will spar with him daily as of Monday until you can beat him.”
“HAAAAAAAAH!” the boy bellowed, doubling over in mischievous delight. “She can’t even stand correctly!”
“Dolores!” the teacher suddenly shouted in irritation. “You will muck out the horse stables every morning before class for the next two weeks. Class dismissed everyone!”
While Dolores sputtered, shocked at the lack of leniency he received after being burned alive (even if his clothes and skin were all intact), Aughraysiah bowed her head to hide her smile as she quickly left the training field.
© River R.
Dicora took a deep breath as the sea breeze whipped her purple hair against the fiery orange skin of her cheeks. Her plan was finally beginning to come together. She would rule the land of Genectel. Vimor and Serin would pay for the folly of their ancestors and her people would finally have their vengeance.
As the ship decked in silver carvings of dragons set against wood painted nearly as brightly as Dicora’s skin rocked against the waves of the black sea, Her eyes turned to her son. He was sleeping in a cot he had placed between two of the boat’s posts. She shook her head. That boy was good for nothing if not for the pursuing of his own comfort. She couldn’t blame him. He had seen some horrible things in the past couple months. Dicora grinned at the thought. “You will have all the comforts that can be afforded you quite soon my fool of a son.”
With that, she returned her gaze to gentle waves gliding before her. Nothing was in sight yet; but that did not bother her in the slightest. Her magic had not led her astray before. Despite their lack of a crew, they would soon be in Genectel and she would stand as Guardian once again. The souls of her wards would be released and she would find her eyes.
“Yes,” she thought to herself, “soon indeed.”
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
18/06/2011
“Aughraysiah! Lower your stance!”
The princess groaned in frustration as her name was called by her instructor for the third time that morning. Every single one of her classmates had at least some prior training with the sword before entering the academy. Although her magical theatrics had induced much applause at the orientation ceremony a few months ago, she had soon learned that they were not appreciated in swordsmanship class. She had never been scolded so often in her life, especially if the strictness of her mother, Queen Serin, was taken into consideration.
Nonetheless, Aughraysiah was determined to excel, despite her discomfort. “If I cannot be the best, I should at least be decent,” she thought as she placed her feet a little more than shoulder-length apart and bent her knees, keeping her back straight.
“Much better Miss Ekroy!” the teacher shouted from the other end of the training field where he was observing a sparring match between two more advanced students. The classmate on her left snickered. He was tall and handsome with his plump pink lips, deep dimples, sharp jawline, and almond-shaped eyes; but was only slightly better in class than Aughraysiah. She turned away from him before she was caught staring.
“If I can do better than him by the end of the term, I will treat myself to a new purple silk dress,” she mused before feeling a sharp pain on her left calf. The pain came with weight heavy enough to lift the leg from its perfectly sensible position under her. Rather than seeing the jerking movements of her secret class rival, she was staring at the brightness of the blue sun’s rays tinting the stretch of white clouds.
“If you plan to do better than me, we should spar,” a voice said from above her. Once she regained her focus, Aughraysiah realized with disdain that it was the tall boy who had been practicing next to her. Ignoring the hand of assistance he offered her, Aughraysiah rose gracefully, turned her full back to him, and returned to practicing her stance.
In about sixty seconds she was again being made to observe the effect of the blue sun on the clouds above her. “Don’t ignore me, your Highness,” the boy sneered. “A rival is a dangerous person to stay unguarded around.” Heat filled Aughraysiah’s head at the boy’s words. Without thinking, she grabbed the leg of his trousers. Flames danced from her fingers to the cloth, engulfing his trousers. At first, the boy’s face held disbelief, then panic as he dropped to the floor and began to roll in an attempt to put out the magical fire.
At that point, Aughraysiah and the boy had made a spectacle of themselves before the entire class. No one was practicing or sparring anymore. Even the teacher watched for a few minutes in amusement before clearing his throat and raising an eyebrow at Aughraysiah. Rolling her eye, Aughraysiah raised her hand and clenched her fist, effectively extinguishing the flames.
Seeing the fire out, the boy leaped from the ground and bounded toward Aughraysiah. “You owe me a new pair of pants!”
“I owe you no such thing,” Aughraysiah smirked. “You clothing, though a bit dirty from all your rolling, has obtained no fire-related damage.”
Realization and embarrassment fought for dominance on the boy’s face and Aughraysiah turned away from him and walked toward the teacher.
The teacher sighed as Aughraysiah stopped about two feet away from him. “You do realize that I cannot let you let you go undisciplined just because he started it, right?”
“I never expected you to.”
“Good. As punishment, you will spar with him daily as of Monday until you can beat him.”
“HAAAAAAAAH!” the boy bellowed, doubling over in mischievous delight. “She can’t even stand correctly!”
“Dolores!” the teacher suddenly shouted in irritation. “You will muck out the horse stables every morning before class for the next two weeks. Class dismissed everyone!”
While Dolores sputtered, shocked at the lack of leniency he received after being burned alive (even if his clothes and skin were all intact), Aughraysiah bowed her head to hide her smile as she quickly left the training field.
© River R.
