Rose, Thanks for the review.
Heero and Relena? I don't think they'll be appropriate for this one. Don't worry though, I'm planning for something for the two of them...
Chapter I: Dark Night
There was a fierce blizzard in the city of Asgard in the middle of winter in the year 2995. The icy winds blew mercilessly across the streets, snow falling heavily on the ground, quickly covering everything in sight. Few dared to venture out in a dangerous weather.
"How was I supposed to know that this blasted blizzard will come up?" a young girl, no more than fifteen demanded of herself. She pushed through the howling winds, the snow whipping at her face, making it hard for her to see where she was going. She began to swear profusely as a vicious gust tugged the hairpin out of her hair, sending her black hair flying out like a raven. Gritting her teeth, she tucked her hair inside the hood of her cloak that also came undone earlier.
She shielded her eyes with her nearly frozen hand from the snow. Squinting at the sight before her, she estimated she was about a mile away from her home. What a stupid idea this was! she thought. There was hell to pay if her father caught her out here in this insane weather. The thought of her father finding out about this little excursion of hers sent chills up her spine. With renewed determination, she set out for her home.
She gave a loud sigh when she finally reached the wall of her home. She looked around and made sure nobody was lurking about. After a thorough check, she pressed a stone underneath the trellises. There was a low rumbling sound, then a part of the wall opened. She hurriedly stepped inside.
"Where in heaven have you been?" a familiar voice hissed at her. Pushing back her hood, she was relieved to find out that it was only Zander Warden, her tutor.
She threw her snow-covered cloak aside and smiled at him. His face was as dark as a thundercloud as he added, "You shouldn’t be gallivanting around like some common peasant." He hurried towards her, carrying a torch on one hand. "Hurry up, Your Highness. The emperor and the empress want to speak to you."
Frowning, she asked, "Why the formality, Zander? Am I in deep trouble?"
"I don’t know, Amalthea. Your father just told me to tell you they wanted to talk to you." He looked on as the Imperial Princess took the torch from him and led the way up the high and spiraling steps. Zander stared at his young student for a moment. The princess was now nearly fifteen years old, and yet she had not lost that adventurous spirit of hers. When she was in the presence of the nobility and other people, she was every inch a proper lady. However, when she was with Zander or with her intimates, she was a mischievous young woman.
Zander did not approve some of her habits, like sneaking out of the castle using the secret passageways that filled the Castle of the Seven Fountains, the home of the Imperial family of the Gaean Empire. But he couldn’t do anything to stop her. Like now, when she decided to take a walk in the woods a few miles away from the castle. He had been worried sick when the sudden blizzard came out of nowhere. He touched his gray-colored beard. He swore he aged a lifetime waiting for her.
"Zander?" Amalthea murmured to him.
"Yes?"
She turned to him and smiled. "Did I make you worry?"
Zander stared at the princess. It always unnerved him whenever Amalthea appeared to know what exactly he was thinking. Her piercing brown eyes seemed to see everything. As her tutor, he knew that the princess was an incredibly astute and intelligent woman. Despite her youth, the princess could understand and grasp concepts that were often beyond her age.
Zander gave her a small smile and sighed. "It’s all right. I’m used to your constant sneaking outs anyway."
They carefully climbed the steep stairs. Glancing at Zander, Amalthea thought for a moment. She wondered what her parents wanted from her now. Surely, they didn’t discover her unladylike habits, such as going to the Blackheart woods every night. Amalthea had been very careful and she doesn’t believe her parents would find out.
She took a deep, calming breath. She never liked any meetings with her parents. It usually involved long- winded discussions of boring, if not nonsense, topics. Her parents, His Majesty, Emperor Malcolm de Winter and Her Majesty, Empress Elspeth de Winter had the knack to lecture her for hours about her duties as the heiress of the Gaean Empire.
This was not to say that the Royal Princess did not take her responsibilities seriously. She was concerned about the plight of the people of Gaea, especially now that the Dark Knights had begun to invade their borders. Palace officials had become increasingly agitated as the news of the Dark Knights’ continued attacks came during these past weeks.
Amalthea unconsciously clenched her fists. The dreaded Dark Knights. When she was a child, her nursemaids often threatened her that if she did not behave herself, the Dark Knights would come and take her. Even then, she had known that the Dark Knights were something to fear. Something evil. Now, as a young woman, it had become painfully clear why. She wondered if it were her parents’ intention discuss the ‘Dark Knight problem’ with her.
The Gaean Empire’s problem with the Dark Knights started a few weeks ago when a severely wounded soldier suddenly entered the castle in the middle of a discussion between the Emperor and a foreign ambassador. The Emperor had been in the act of sending his personal guards to arrest the soldier for his apparent insolence when the soldier shouted, "The Dark Knights have invaded us!"
Everyone panicked when they heard the news. The nobles in the throne room screamed with fear and started to scamper around, nearly trampling on Amalthea and her mother who were about to enter the room as the frightened mob hurried towards the door. As soon as everyone had calmed down, the Emperor immediately organized several councils and dispatched two thousand soldiers to guard the borders and to help the refugees that would surely come if the Dark Knights would continue their attack.
The attacks did continue. For the subsequent weeks, messengers continue to deliver horrible accounts of what was happening outside the city. The Dark Knights had not yet reached the capital. They were attacking the empire’s borders instead. Villages were razed to the very ground and according to the messengers sent out, the Dark Knights took no prisoners. The air around the villages reeked of both burnt wood and flesh and of the rusty smell of spilled blood. There were but a few survivors. Some were lucky enough to escape; the others who were not able to flee were said to be sacrificed to the deity of the Dark Knights, the lady Medeia.
The imperial army had been helpless against the Dark Knights. The first two thousand men that the emperor sent had been almost completely wiped out. The few who survived told stories that made strong men shudder. Some say that the ones who died were blessed, for many of the survivors went insane, forced to relieve the horrifying images repeatedly. Some of the survivors soon took their own life.
The Dark Knights were no ordinary men. They were not even soldiers. The Dark Knights were practitioners of the Dark Arts of magic and sorcery. Among them were necromancers, demon summoners, and many more dabblers of the evil arts. There was nothing knightly about their conduct. They had no code of honor except maybe to their deity Medeia and their cause. They were divided into two major factions: the Eastern Dark Knights led by Cedric and the Western Dark Knights headed by Lothar. The two were both powerful and feared sorcerers in both the western and eastern continents.
What Amalthea knew about the Dark Knights were mostly from the books she read in the musty castle library or from the snatches of conversation she heard between people. Many were tight-lipped about giving out any information about the Dark Knights, mainly out of fear.
A slight clink brought Amalthea’s reverie into an abrupt end. The Imperial Princess looked at her tutor. "Are we here already?" Zander asked.
Amalthea glanced around, sifting through her memory as she assessed her surroundings. To the inexperienced eye, the walls were all the same but to Amalthea, each wall was distinct. She continued to stare at the walls for a moment before saying to Zander, "Yes, we’re here." She made her way past Zander and touched an innocent–looking stone. The stone was pushed back and Zander could faintly hear a slight whirring behind the walls. Then before his very eyes, the seemingly solid wall in front of him opened. "I wonder who thought of this?" he muttered to himself.
The Royal Princess gave her tutor a faint grin as she stepped out of the door. "One of my ancestors, I think. He lived on dangerous times, so he constructed several secret passageways and catacombs underneath the city and inside the castle. Only a few people know about it, thanks to the short memory span of most humans."
Zander turned to his pupil. "I don’t know how you found out about this, Amalthea, but you must have done a lot of research about the castle’s history."
The princess smiled at him once more. "I suppose I better put on some ‘royal’ clothes." She glanced down at her plain white dress. "My mother would faint with mortification if she saw me wearing this."
"Shall I call for your ladies’ maid?" Zander asked. Amalthea shook her head. Bowing elegantly, Zander quietly left the room. Amalthea just stared at the door for a moment, took a deep breath, then began to change clothes.
*******
Amalthea stared at her father for a long time. She was completely speechless for the first time in her life. There was a long and uncomfortable silence.
"Amalthea? Are you all right?’ the Empress Elspeth asked her in a soothing tone.
She nodded, staring blankly at her mother. She was absolutely stunned with her father’s announcement.
How had things gone so horribly wrong? She asked herself. She didn’t expect what her father just told her a few seconds ago.
She should have realized that there was something wrong the moment she had entered the Hall of the Seven Fountains, the throne room of the castle. The tension in the room was so tangible she could almost walk on it. She bowed perfunctorily to her parents. "Good evening, your Majesties," she said.
Her father gave her a tight smile. He was dressed in a splendid red robe embroidered with gold thread. Her mother was dressed in the same way. "Good evening, Amalthea. I see that you’ve finally gained some sense of fashion." Her mother looked approvingly at Amalthea’s rose–colored gown.
Amalthea smiled slightly at her mother. "Thank you, mother." Her smile faded slowly as she saw her father’s face turn serious.
"You have been summoned here for a reason, Amalthea, not to discuss your fashion sense with her mother," Emperor Malcolm gave his wife a withering stare. Empress Elspeth shrank back for a moment. The emperor then turned to a secretly amused Amalthea. " I assume you are well aware of what is happening to our empire. The Dark Knights have been raiding and destroying our borders every day and we are losing more men than ever. We need every help that we can."
Amalthea gave his father an incredulous stare. "Yes? Does His Majesty want me to help the people? Perhaps organize some ways to ease the harsh conditions of the refugees? Maybe–" Amalthea stopped when she saw her father wave his hand impatiently. "I didn’t mean that, Amalthea. You are to marry the Crown Prince of Ilea."
Marriage. To the crown prince of Ilea. That had been the reason behind her sudden silence. Of all the things she expected her father to say, this was most certainly not one of them. "Why must I marry, father?" she finally asked.
Her father gave her a sharp glance. "To cement an alliance between our kingdoms. We need all the help we can get, Amalthea. We must save our people at all costs." The Emperor spread his hands helplessly.
Amalthea racked her brains for a moment, trying to remember where on earth Ilea was. There was Ahearn to their south. Below it were several smaller states bound to another kingdom, Meira. To Gaea’s east and west were their own states. Where is Ilea? The kingdom had to be somewhere near them, but where is it?
"May I ask for the name of this prince, your Majesty?" She asked carefully, not wanting to betray her suspicions.
It was her mother who answered. "His name is Cirdec. He is an extremely handsome and pleasant young man."
But there is no such kingdom as Ilea! She wanted to shout to her mother, at last remembering her geography lessons. Instead, she chose to remain silent. There was something very wrong going on and she wanted to find out more about it. To betray her suspicions now would ruin everything.
"Well, Amalthea, do you agree to the marriage?" her father said, breaking through her thoughts. He was looking at her expectantly, his eyes intent.
Amalthea took a deep breath. She was not about to plunge headfirst into marriage until she found out more about the identity of this prince. She was also not about to tell her father that. "I wish to think about this, your Majesty. May I have a day to contemplate on this matter?"
The Emperor stared at her for a moment. Then with a brief nod, he said, "You may. Nevertheless, I tell you, Amalthea, this alliance is our only hope against the Dark Knights. We have to do everything to protect our subjects. You may take your leave now."
Amalthea curtsied deeply, thankful that her father agreed to what she said. Skirts slightly flaring, she left the throne room towards her own.
By the time she entered her own room, her mind was in a whirl. Who was this fictional prince of Ilea? Moreover, why did her parents have to invent such an obvious lie? She sat on her bed, her arms folded across her chest. She was going to find out what was really going on. And she would do that tonight.
*******
Cobwebs. Amalthea swiped another one in front of her face, grimacing. Of all the things she hated when she was using the secret passageways, she hated the cobwebs the most. They were dusty and often stuck on her hair. It also didn’t help that they contained spiders.
She held the small lamp higher as she glanced at the dusty walls. She was now within the walls of her father’s private study. She knew her father usually went to the study to go over the day’s work and sometimes, to talk to himself. Amalthea hoped that he would talk to himself about her intended marriage.
She put the lamp on the floor and went towards a wall. With sure hands, she pushed aside a slight protrusion from the wall. Soon, she was looking into her father’s study.
She found out about this peephole when she was reading a diary of an ancestor. Her ancestor had a hole drilled through this wall that corresponded to and eye in a painting in the room. Her ancestor, a woman, wanted to spy on her husband. And now, Amalthea was using it to spy on her own father.
She put her eye on the hall. She immediately saw her father sitting on his favorite chair, the one below the family heraldry, holding a goblet of blood-red wine in his hand. Without any warning, Amalthea felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up. She looked back for a moment, wondering if there was someone behind her. When she was sure there wasn’t anyone behind or near her, she resumed observing her father.
He seemed to be speaking to someone, but Amalthea couldn’t see who it was. "How did your talk with your daughter go, Malcolm?" a voice that was definitely not her father’s said. Amalthea felt a chill run up her spine as she heard the voice. They’re talking about me, she thought.
"It fared well, my Lord. She did not seem to suspect anything amiss." My Lord? Amalthea asked herself. Her father was a proud man and he would never address anyone that way. Who is this visitor?
"Has she agreed to our marriage yet?" the voice asked.
She stifled a gasp. The man her father was talking to the mysterious prince of Ilea, the man her father wanted her to marry. "Not yet, but I’m confident she will," her father said, taking a drink from his wine.
The owner of the voice finally stepped out into Amalthea’s line of vision. Amalthea’s eyes widened when she saw her intended groom.
He was beautifully handsome. He had long light brown hair and gray eyes. He was quite tall, towering a foot or so from her father. He was also powerfully built man, with broad shoulder and slim hips. He wore a blood- red cape, a plain white shirt, black leather breeches, and boots. So he’s the mysterious prince, Amalthea mused. Oddly enough, despite the man’s obvious good looks, she did not feel the least bit attracted to him. She sensed something wrong about him, something his beautiful face carefully hid.
"I have given her a day to contemplate on the matter, my Lord." She was a bit taken aback to hear the slight quaver in her father’s voice as he replied.
"Contemplate, Adrian?" the man asked in a low, menacing voice that sent shivers up to Amalthea’s spine once again. She saw her father take a step back. "She does not have the right to contemplate over this matter. She will marry me, whether she likes it or not. She will be my wife even if I have to drag her screaming to the altar."
"Of co–course, my Lord. Amalthea will marry you. It is her destiny to be your bride, my lord Cedric," her father replied in a stuttering voice. She saw him grovel on the floor, begging for mercy.
Amalthea felt as if a black void surrounded her when she heard the name of the man. She jerked herself away from the wall, her face white with shock. Unshed tears burned in her eyes and she wiped them away furiously. She staggered back a few steps.
No, it couldn’t be! It isn’t true! She told herself. Her father would surely not commit the unspeakable act of marrying her to the Eastern Dark Knight Lord. She put her hand on her lips, stopping herself from crying out. Her mother’s voice came back to her.
His name is Cirdec.
Amalthea’s eyes widened when she realized that Cirdec spelled backwards would read Cedric.
She spun around, her eyes wild. She had to leave the castle immediately. She would not stay here, knowing that Cedric was nearby, waiting for her.
As soon as she arrived at her room, she began to pack a few nondescript clothes and a few basic necessities. As she furiously began to stuff her bag, she stopped abruptly, realizing that she had no idea where she was going to go. She was going to leave Gaea, that she knew, but how long would she remain unfound? She knew the Dark Knights were powerful and almost omnipotent. There was always the possibility that she would be found. How long can she hide from Cedric?
She shook her head, trying to calm her confused thoughts. For now, the most important thing was for her to get out of the castle. As soon as she had done that, she would think about what she would do to evade the search parties that would surely be sent out after her.
After a few minutes, she was ready. She glanced at her room for one last time. It was a very pretty room and she liked it. Tears once again started to blur her vision as she recalled the scene in her father’s study. How could he do this to me? Why? Has Cedric done anything to him? Taking a deep breath, she went to another secret door, the one that led out of the castle. As she entered the secret door, she stopped for a moment. She was going to leave the life she knew forever. She could never probably come back here. It came to her as a surprise that she would probably never miss her life here. Lifting her small lamp, she went on her way, ignoring the tears that fell down to her cheeks.
~T.B.C.~
Ahhhhh....finally posted something...
by the way, I own these characters. It's copyrighted, by the way...
