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officialleehadan · 3 years ago

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Glass Welcome

Aizer was a wonder of water. Meira had seen running water of course. Glassbyrn was only possible because of the water that filled their city, but Glassbyrn was a desert city, and it made them cautious of spending water too generously. There was no telling when they would have a bad year and the reservoirs or the river would run low.

So the sight of the fountains and channels that filled the city of Aizer, and the palace that loomed over it were more astonishing in every way than the great edifice that probably left most visitors in awe.

Then again, Meira thought, her hand tucked into the crook of Anseraen’s arm, the residents of Aizer would probably feel the same way about the great glassworks of Glassbyrn. The city was decorated everywhere with the works of a thousand masters. Not a single window passed that wasn’t lit with stained glass or ornate suncatchers.

She didn’t wear much in the way of jewels, but the woven beading on her dresses winked in the light, and her hair was decorated with her own glass flowers. At least she had the benefit of being nothing this city had ever seen before.

The throne room was built in a room surrounded by elegant pools that cast glittering reflections over everything in the cool sunlight. Tiny brass cups floated in the pools and filled the air with gentle chimes. Meira had a passing thought that it could be done with colored glass as well. Something to mention later, perhaps, or a project to play with once they were back in Glassbyrn.

The King and Queen sat above the rest on a dais, but their thrones were simple, polished wood, with only a little more ornamentation than those at the tables around the rooms. They smiled easily, and sat with their hands clasped together in a way that looked too comfortable to be anything but habit. King Icarun had given his height to all four of his sons, but it was Queen Jaeslyn who shared her son’s black hair and elvish features. She was the most beautiful woman Meira had ever seen, which made sense. Queen Jaeslyn was an elf, and was known across the land as a beauty of legend.

“Mother, father,” Anseraen said and brightened as they stepped into the throne room. His parents stood and abandoned all pretense of courtly manners at the sight of the child they thought would follow his twin into death. They rushed down the dais stairs with tears in their eyes. Anseraen squeezed Meira’s hands and moved to meet them. They gathered him into their arms tightly. “I’m home.”

“L’hae vis” Queen Jaeslyn whispered as she pressed kisses to her youngest son’s hair and face. Tears ran down her cheeks, but her smile was heartbreakingly lovely. “Oh my little one. Welcome home. A thousand times, welcome. You look…”

“You look well,” King Icarun finished for her when her words ran out. He pressed his forehead to Anseraen’s, wife and son held close with no care for the onlooking court. Then again, they had surely thought that their farewells to Anseraen when he left would be the last time they saw their son alive. Small wonder that they wept to see him standing tall, and smiling. “We could hardly believe it when you wrote and said you were returning. Is this your bride-to-be?”

“She is,” Anseraen said with a bright smile. He reached for Meira and she laced their fingers together. “This is Meira, Princess Royal of Glassbyrn. Meira, my parents. King Icarun and Queen Jaeslyn of Kaliveran.”

She couldn’t curtsy properly with only one hand free, but Meira did her best. Before she could do more than dip her head, the queen was before her, drawing her back to her feet.

“Dear one, be welcome in our kingdom, our castle, and our family,” she said, and pressed her lips to Meira’s forehead in blessing. “You have done us a service we could not repay in a thousand years, and come bringing joy beyond measure in your hands. You must never bow to us. If anything, I should fall at your feet in thanks for saving my son’s life.”

“He saved himself, your majesty,” Meira demurred shyly, uncomfortable with so many eyes on them. She squeezed Anseraen’s hand and he squeezed back reassuringly. “Sometimes all we need is a compass to point the way out of the darkness.”

Before either king or queen could reply, there was a shout from the door. Anseraen half-turned, and his eyes went wide.

“Oh hell,” he muttered, and took four long strides away from Meira’s side. She blinked at him, startled by his sudden retreat “Damn it all, I thought I timed this better.”

The shouts materialized into overlapping calls of Anseraen’s name, and Meira suddenly understood what was about to happen. He was the youngest of four sons. His three older brothers were as delighted to see him alive as their parents were, and far, far more exuberant in their joy. His older brothers, all alike in height and black hair, but with their father’s handsome, human features, tumbled into him. For a moment, Anseraen bore their combined weight, but was then knocked to the ground as his brothers piled atop him, all talking at once.

They were speaking Elvish, which Anseraen had only just begun teaching Meira. She didn’t understand the words, but the tone could not be mistaken for anything but joyful welcomes of the youngest of their pack. Like their parents, they had believed that their farewells to their departing brother had been the last time they would see him alive.

“Get off me!” Anseraen protested from somewhere under the pile. “What will Meira think of you lot!?”

“I think that it’s good to see how well they love you,” Meira said cheerfully, encouraged by Queen Jaeslyn’s chuckle and King Icarun’s fond, resigned smile. “Besides, you met my brothers. Turnabout is fair play.”

“This isn’t how I hoped they would meet you! Get off me or I’ll get right back on my boat and sail back to the desert!”

The threat was enough to finally peel his brothers off him, and they got to their feet, one by one. The last one, the oldest if Meira was reading them right, helped him up and dusted him off.

“Meet my brothers,” Anseraen said dryly once he was upright. He waved at the three men. “Princes Sithaen and Yaenith, and my oldest brother, Crown Prince Rinalaes. As you can see, I’m the only one with any dignity.”

“A pleasure,” Meira said with a smile. She somehow managed to stifle her giggles as she bobbed a curtsy, one of equals, to the three princes. They offered her the same respect in return. “Truly, there is no finer welcome than joy.”

“You’re very kind,” King Icarun told her dryly. His sons looked not at all apologetic. “Come. I think perhaps we should retire to the family quarters. This discussion would be better continued in private.”

+++ The City on the Cliff:

Glass Shadow

Glass Heart

Glass Fire

Glass Light

Glass Wishes (Subscriber Only!)

Glass Bubbles

Glass Moon (Subscriber Only!)

Glass Question (Subscriber Only!)

Glass Water

Glass Cascade (Subscriber Only!)

+++

More Stories!

+++

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jyrs-kuur · 8 years ago

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chapter 3

@bitsynoya i’m just gonna keep translating these snippets bc i like it, and when you read these it keeps me really motivated! :D

The steam wagon made so much noise that it was no use trying to have a conversation. The road was in a bad shape after rain, so the wagon swayed so much that Sera had almost fallen off the bench twice during the trip. On top of everything it was the time of month that she was sure blood was somehow going to end up on the wagon's velvet seat. Fortunately it was dark red.

Opposite to him sat one of his foster brothers, Aizer, who was trying to make her feel better even though it only made Sera more furious. She felt sick from the wagon's swaying, she had a headache, and she had had excruciating stomach pain since the boat trip.

After a too long time for Sera's patience at that moment the wagon eventually stopped and the motor quieted down. Sera jumped down from the wagon before any servants could open the door or help her down. They were in the steam wagon garage, and the sun shining in from the doors as well as the smell of oil only made Sera's head hurt more.

Which was why it wasn't surprising that Aizer got a fist in his nose after stepping out of the wagon and saying the trip had been delightful.

Aizer looked at his adopted sister in surprise and dabbed the blood from his nose with a white lace handkerchief he took from his pocket. “If we weren't at the steam wagon garage, you would have just started another scandal,” he said calmly. “You know how much father hates you causing disturbances in the court.”

Sera snorted and gathered her skirt's hem into her hands so that they wouldn't gather up all dirt from the floor. Heels clicked against the stone floor when she walked across the garage towards a red-oak door that led to their rooms in the west part of the palace.

… *a scene in the kitchen*

“Do you think Aisleshan is practicing swordplay?” Sera asked. “I am going to find him, but first I will have to get a change of clothes.”

… Even though there was no one else in the garden they were walking through, Aizer still glanced around to see who had heard what Sera said. “Why can you not call them your mother and father?” he asked, lowering his voice. “You have said a hundred times that it feels odd, but why? They have raised you as their child. I checked it with mother, and she said you have been in their care since you were eight.”

Sera shook her head. “I did not call them my parents when I was a child,” she said calmly. “Even if I would officially have been their child earlier, I met Moras for the first time when I was fourteen and moved into this palace. And they do not treat me the same way as you or your real siblings. It feels like Moras treats me as coldly as Aisleshan!”

“I do not believe that from father,” Aizer protested as he held a door open for Sera. “You are exaggerating. You cannot claim mother does not treat you the same as all her other children.”

Sera shrugged. “It can be like that,” she said, “but now is a little too late to begin calling them mother and father when I have called them by their names all my life.”

… *a cloth-changing scene*

Before even noticing it she found herself on the edge of the training ground beside the armory. There was only one young man on the training ground beating a wooden puppet furiously with a sword. Sera stepped on the ground, being cautious in stepping on the sand with bare feet. “Aisleshan,” she called, moving closer to the person.

The young man swinging a sword stopped to wipe his eyes before turning towards Sera, his copper hair in a halo around his head. He looked surprised seeing Sera. “I thought you were not coming home until tomorrow,” he said, pushing the tip of his sword against the ground. “It is good to see you again.”

Sera smiled and stood on her toes to give a hug to her brother. Despite her reluctance to call her adoptive family her family, she couldn't not think of Aisleshan as her brother. One thing they had in common was that the king didn't like either of them. Sera could say that despite the five year age gap the two of them understood each other better than anyone.

Aisleshan patted Sera on the shoulder when they separated from the hug. “Did you come here to practice swordplay or only to see me?” he asked. “And do not tell me you fought with Aizer again.”

Sera gave an unsure laugh. “Not quite,” Sera said, curling her toes against the cool sand. “His face already met my fist earlier, but now I started to talk about you as my adoptive family to my chambermaids. You know I do not like talking about that.”

Aisleshan nodded, and covered his right eye with the patch he had moved on his forehead. Despite the blindness of his eye Aisleshan said the patch was a disadvantage in precise things like swordplay. He put his hands around Sera's shoulders and walked with her to the armory on the other side of the training grounds.

“What was the old palace like?” Aisleshan asked after fetching the polishing gear from beside the door to take care of his sword. Sera sat beside her brother on the armory's stairs and shrugged. “Nothing abnormal happened,” she said. “Moras almost said he hated me, and I did not hit him. Nobody died and you still have ten little siblings if you do not count me in.”

Aisleshan shook his head. “Of course I count you in,” he said. “I am not like Moras.”

“I am glad about that,” Sera said, pulling her knees against her chest. “I am not sure whether he is a good king or not, but he has never been a good father – at least not to me. Are we not supposed to be his children, too?”

Aisleshan got up and took his sword and the polishing gear into the armory. When he came back looking worried Sera got up. “What is it?” she asked. Aisleshan stopped only at the end of the stairs and stretched out his hand at Sera.

“Did I say something I should not have?” Sera asked when Aisleshan pulled her beside him. He shook his head, glancing around nervously. “This is not because of you.”

Sera followed his brother in puzzlement when he started leading her somewhere. Aisleshan seemed like he wanted to go to a place no one else would hear their conversation. That's why Sera wasn't surprised when Aisleshan finally stopped in front of the sixteen-storey Deity tower in the middle of the palace ground, rising above the whole city. They climbed the stairs all the way up to the thirteenth floor.

Like each of the sixteen floors in the Deity tower, the round room had been split into two. In the room they stepped into the other side there was the altar of Zwaftia, the deity of secrets, and on the other the altar of Vales, the deity of diversity. Aisleshan took Sera to sit down on the line that split the room in two, and waved his hands in the air like he was asking the deities' protection.

“If what I am going to say spreads outside this room,” Aisleshan said as he was sitting down on the floor opposite of Sera, “I will be a dead man.”

Sera frowned, and gestured her brother to continue. He sighed deeply and pressed his fingertips on his face. “I heard mother speaking with Moras,” Aisleshan began slowly, and turned to look at Zwaftia's statue. There was a small bundle of lily-of-the-valley's leaves at its feet, probably only a few days old.

“What did they say?” Sera asked when Asheden didn't say anything in several minutes, he was just squishing his eyes shut, covering his mouth and nose with both hands. Sera had never seen her big brother that upset. She had seen several times Moras mocking him and shouting at him for nothing, but Aisleshan hadn't looked like he minded any of that before. Now his hands were shaking as he wiped tears from his eyes before they could fall on his cheeks.

Sera put a hand over her brother's and looked at him steadily until he took a couple of deep breaths and begun telling the story again. “I heard mother fighting with Moras,” he said and did a cough to stabilize his voice. “On the night before you left for the summer palace. In itself it was nothing special, because they are fighting all the time these days. But after I had listened at them for a while I realized they were fighting because of me. Moras threatened mother that if she said she wanted me to come with you to the summer palace he would tell everyone the truth about my father.”

Sera held her breath. The incident sounded worse than she had imagined. Aisleshan continued. “They said all kinds of horrible things,” he sniffed, not even trying to cover his tears anymore. “What am I going to do, Sera? They said – Moras said that I am not his legal heir and mother never even tried to deny it! I have always thought that he just pretends to be my opponent and treats me differently most of the time, because he is preparing me to be the king – but he actually hates me. Why am I the heir to the throne if I am not even the king's son?”

Sera didn't know what to say. She moved to sit beside Aisleshan in order to wrap her hands around him. If what Aisleshan had heard, and he actually was Lowella's bastard, the situation was out of their hands. It was impossible to say for certain whether the situation was good or bad without knowing Lowella's motives. She had been the one who had a child with someone else than her husband, but had still demanded Moras to recognize the child as his, making him the heir to the throne.

“I am sure Lowella has her reasons to want you to be the heir,” Sera stated, leaning her head against Aisleshan's shoulder. “Besides, you cannot be certain it is a bad thing. I think you would be a great ruler.”

When Aisleshan just shook his head, Sera sighed. “If it is any comfort, despite all that you are still my only real brother,” she said, gently squeezing his hand. “And as your sister I promise to always be on your side, whatever it is you decide to do.”

Aisleshan gave a weak laugh. “Thank you,” he breathed. “I am honored that I get to be your brother.”

i think most of my character just...have a lot of character development to go through, and they will, which is a good thing. Sera has always been one of my fav characters bc i relate to her on some level. and it’s always fun to write scenes where ppl get punched in the face (at least when i get to punch myself in the face for reference).

#tales from inarde #sera flutiluvenicus #myrsky: art #long post

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