City of IF

[Kalanna Rai]

Right since I've got time I'll thicken this plot. Enjoy.
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Two- Shadows Gather

'Of all the abilities mages possess, the ability known as 'Overshadowing' is, in my mind, one of the most fiendish things a man has ever devised. How can you not hate the man who steals control over your mind...'
-High Mage Atilius of Althur

Darith shook his head. As much as he wanted to leave Varis behind, he could come up with no definite reason to leave him there. Besides, Varis would probably follow him no matter what and claim it violated his oath to let the prince go alone...despite the fact he'd done similar things a thousand times before. "Alright, come on then Sir Varis, although I doubt I'll need you. Fallon wouldn't be so bold as to draw steel on me."

"Him drawing steel on you isn't what I'm worried about," The grizzled knight mage muttered. Darith pretended not to hear him as he strode out of his chambers and into the hallway beyond, sir Varis only three paces behind him. It felt strange to Darith to be heading toward the Library, normally he wouldn't have gone anywhere near the place of his own violation.

Yet now he couldn't wait to get there. Anticipation like a madness was boiling in his guts, and spurring him onward, warring with cold fear of Fallon and winning. It puzzled Darith. When Fallon had first arrived, with flash and flair (although he latter admitted that was an accident, not an intention), Darith had regarded him with open curiosity. He'd never met the man, just lived in fear of him all his life. Fallon's name had been a threat his nurses used on him to keep him in line. Telling him that if he didn't behave, his elder half-brother would swoop down from his floating city and steal him away.

He'd outgrown such fears long ago, but Fallon hadn't stopped being a source of worry for him. He knew enough of the politics that governed the land to know that it was Fallon's right as first son - even though he was a bastard - to claim the throne of Maldon at any time. That left Darith in a bit of a bind. Father had always raised Darith with the intent that Darith would become king. If Fallon chose to accept his title and responsibilities, that left Darith with the position of second son.

Evil deeds could be done in his name, by people he never knew, with the intent to put him on the throne. There were examples all over history where monarchs of strife-filled lands had executed all their near relatives to keep their precarious hold on their throne intact. Darith didn't want his named added to that list...or so he told himself as he came up to the doors of the castle Library.

Pushing them open, he squinted a bit as the late afternoon sunlight slanted through the windows and made the dust motes in the room sparkle and dance in the air. The Librarian and his assistants were busy dusting off the books, and some were scrambling around putting them back. A couple of the court mages passed Darith on the way out, bowing deeply to him. He returned their courtesy with a curt nod of his head. Normally, he would have bowed in return and given them a warm smile, but now with his dark and poisonous thoughts - his cold fear and bubbly anticipation had given way to a rage so cold it burned.

The source of this anger could be found across the great room, seated in the comfort of the cushioned window that the court ladies often used for their needlework. His back was against one of the massive pillars that framed the outer edge of the windows, one leg stretched out in front of him, the other bent so he could rest the book he was reading against the top of his thigh. Deep in concentration, he didn't look up as Darith entered.

"Wait here." Darith ordered sir Varis, pointing to a guard position next to the great doors.

"But m'lord...are you sure this is wise?" Darith turned to sir Varis and gave him a cold stare that made the man look at him in askance. Then he turned and strode across the massive room, dodging around the huge centre table with its many chairs for researchers to use. Darith walked up to Fallon and cleared his throat; amazed when the dark clad mage didn't even spare him a glance.

He craned his head to peer at the book that held Fallon's attention so completely. He could see the strange runes scrawled across the pages. The Chronicles of UnderDark? Why would he be reading that? Darith shook his head. What on Terrinia were the Chronicles of UnderDark? Darith had never even heard of those books, yet he was absolutely sure that's exactly what Fallon was reading. Darith cleared his throat. He did so again. Fallon ignored him even when Darith tapped his shoulder.

Darith was about to do something incredibly stupid, as if this whole thing wasn't, when Fallon shut the book with an audible snap and turned to face him, twisting swiftly so that he stood at the same time. "There are some books that are too dangerous to put down in the middle of a passage. You wanted something?" For a moment, Darith only stared at him coolly.

"Yes, actually. I wanted to know why you're still here. I know Father summoned you to court a month ago, but I also know he did it with the intention of showing you this nation and how to run it. You're heir to the Realm yet you show no interest."

"Ah. I see. And you, being second son, wanted to know my intentions?"

Darith nodded. "Just so. I want to know whether you actually plan on ruling Maldon, or are you just here playing on all our nerves? What are your intentions?"

Fallon took a step toward him and Darith turned slightly, backing up as he did so. That kernel of fear had returned in his heart, nearly lost in his cold anger, but there all the same.
"Why do you want to know, Darith? Why your sudden interest?"

"Well, I am second son. It's not prudent for me to look the other way forever."
Fallon nodded, considering Darith's words though what he thought of them was a mystery. Nothing could be read from the carved mask that was his handsome face.

"So, it's a selfish motivation? That seems unlike you, Darith. When I arrived here you were the only armed man in that throne room that did not draw steel on me. When we were introduced, you tried to shake my hand warmly, tried to make me feel welcome...now you suddenly feel the need to look after your own neck?"

Darith took another step backwards as Fallon stepped toward him again. The fear was growing with every second Fallon's cold eyes bored into his own. What do I have to fear from this man? Darith thought. A moment later and the answer came. Everything. He backed up a few more steps, Fallon advancing without seeming to advance.
"Have a seat, Darith." Darith took another step backwards and toppled into one of the padded chairs at the end of the great table. "It seems you don't like me being close to you. Maybe it'll make you feel better if we conducted this conversation with some distance between us?"

With that, Fallon walked to the opposite end of the table and sat down in the chair there.
"Is this better?" Darith jumped when Fallon's voice seemed to whisper right in his ear. "Ignore the spell unless you feel like shouting. It's two way for your use as well." Darith gave Fallon a cold nod.

"Kind of you." He suddenly realised how unlikely it was that Fallon was being kind. "Now, if you don't mind, will you answer my question?"
Fallon lounged in his chair as if he hadn't a care in the world, yet his eyes were still locked with Darith's, glittering from under the dark veil of his hair.

"I still don't believe you're asking this question just because of your own neck, Darith. Did someone put you up to this? Did somebody ask you to find out my intentions?"
Darith shook his head.

"What? Can't you believe the answer I give you? Do distrust me that much?"
Fallon didn't twitch.

"I don't trust anyone, Darith. Not even my own Mother."
Darith felt that cold rage turn into searing anger. The man was mocking him, dancing around Darith's question by asking his own. Was he trying to make fun of Darith's intelligence?

'Of course he is. He can't stand me. He knows the people love me more than they'll ever love him no matter how nice he tries to seem. They're sick of heartless kings, sick of worry. They want someone they know will take their complaints to heart! The bastard's just mocking me!' Darith bared his teeth in a snarling smile.

"I wouldn't trust your Mother either, Fallon. She seems to be a wholly immoral creature. I mean, seducing other women's husbands, how uncouth. Only she miscalculated with Father, didn't she? Ended up saddled with you. And then where did all her hopes of alliance and plotting go?" Darith clapped his hand over his mouth. 'I didn't just say that, did I? Oh, I'm so glad he hasn't any feelings. If someone had spoken that way about my mother - I'd have killed them. Why did I say that?'

This was the first time in his life he'd ever been so cruel to anyone, the first time in his life he'd ever insulted someone so badly. Looking out of the corner of his eye, he could see the stricken look on sir Varis's face. He could see the shocked way the man stood, like someone had hit him over the head with a large warhammer. Across the table though, Fallon's lips quirked in a smile. "You've got some teeth after all, pup."

Darith wanted to get up and be sick; to run away, but seemed rooted to his seat. Before he could stop himself, more words tumbled out of his lips.
"Answer my question, why are you still here?"
The smile fell from Fallon's face.

"To get rid of you." A force slammed into Darith, pushing him back into the chair.
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Asalia had followed her usual morning routine. She had woken and read her Memory Book - the magical book in which was recorded all the important things she needed to know in order to maintain a seemingly normal life. She might seem feeble witted, but that was due to the fact that she woke every morning with no memories of the places or people around her. Woke with no memories of who was friend and who was foe.

It was amazing she was able to remember small things. How to read, how to write, how to do numbers. She could feed and dress herself and many other small things well enough. It was just the other things she didn't remember. The truly important things.
That was why her Memory Book was so important. Through it she remembered who her Father was, who her Mother was. That Darith was her elder full brother and that Fallon, who was recent to court, was her elder half-brother. Through the book she remembered who she was.

After breakfast in bed, she bathed and allowed her maids to help her into a soft dress of dark blue silk, covered by an over robe of green velvet. Her hair was coifed and coiled at the nape of her neck, held in place with jewelled pins. Accompanied by her ladies in waiting, she walked out of her chambers to familiarise herself with her home all over again. She observed the gardens and visited her horse in the stables before turning indoors.

Unknowingly, she headed toward the Library that late afternoon, her ladies and her one grim protector, sir Olath, following behind her. What greeted them must not have been the usual Library activity, or so Asaila thought. It couldn't be since her protector immediately restrained her from going any further.

Two young men sat at a table, glaring at each other with such intensity that all else was forgotten. On the left was the younger of the two, a youth not quite twenty summers old with hair like sunlit molasses and eyes like chips of emerald. His skin was pale and flushed with effort, sweat beading on his brow as he struggled to hold his focus.

Every muscle was ridged with tension; his fingers gripped the arms of his finely carved oaken chair. He was a strong lad with shoulders wider than the horns of a bull, and slabs of well-worked muscle bulged under his fine doublet of green velvet. Over his heart, the insignia of the royal house of Maldon shimmered. 'Darith.' was Asalia's instant thought.

Across from him, the attention of his focus, was a vastly different young man. He was the older of the two at nearly twenty-seven summers and by far the more handsome. His hair was blacker than jet, cut short in the back and left long in the front. From behind the shadowed veil of his bangs, two amethyst eyes could be seen to gleam intently, boring into the eyes of Darith on the other end of the grand table.

His skin was pale too, but not unhealthily so, and he was neither flushed nor ridged. His dancer's body lounged in his chair, completely at ease with the world around him. His graceful hands with their slender fingers dangled off over the arms of the chair, twitching occasionally as if they wished to move but were restrained. His clothing was black, nearly as black as his hair, and a single silver pin held his cloak over his shoulders. 'That means he's Fallon.'

There was little about the scene that seemed unusual until one approached within five feet, save that the young men neither blinked nor seemed to shift themselves even the slightest. From there, ice and frost coated the floor and hung from the table in long icicles. The princes' breath steamed clearly, showing that Darith huffed like a winded colt, while Fallon stayed rhythmic and steady.

Then suddenly, it was all over. Darith leaned forward, baring his teeth in a feral gleam, and Fallon smiled slightly. With a small cry, Darith's head snapped back, his entire body going limp and sagging in his chair. Two streams of bright red blood poured from his nose and his breathing seemed dangerously shallow. With strangled cries the servants who had pressed themselves against the walls now charged forward toward their stricken prince. Sir Varis, his protector, was one of the first to reach him.

A sense of horror sprang in Asalia's breast. According to her Memory Book, there was much to love Darith for, indeed she felt warm love just looking at him. Now that he was hurt, she rushed over to him, unable to stop herself from sliding just like the rest as she shoved her way to hover over him, tears beading her thick lashes.
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They slipped and slid on the still icy floor, tripping over themselves in an effort to be the first to reach him. Fallon, on the other hand, was ignored as he stood, cloak billowing behind him, and stalked toward the door. "Fallon, help him!" Hand on the carved doorframe of the room, Fallon froze in midstep. Only one person would have called after him, only one person dared ask for his help.

Turning around, he stalked back toward the knot of people crowding over Darith, shoving those that did not scramble out of his way rudely aside. There, leaning over the top of him with a worried expression in her bright eyes, was a fair maid of sixteen summers. Her hair was a curled fall of molten gold, her eyes like twin sapphire stars, and her skin as fair as cream. Her robes were rich green velvet over a gown of fine blue silk.

She looked up at him with those huge eyes, tears sparkling on her long lashes, and clasped Darith's cold hand in both of hers, holding it to her cheek. "Help him, please, Fallon."
Grinding his teeth so hard it hurt, Fallon leaned over his fallen half brother and sketched a hasty rune of healing over him followed by a second of vitality and a third of rejuvenation. Had it been left up to him, he would have left Darith to lie, left it up to his half-brother whether he would live or not. But where Asalia was concerned, Fallon often gave sway. After all, his half sister was such an innocent, and Fallon was loath to pain her.

"That should do it."
Asalia wrapped her arms around his neck, being lifted off the floor when he straightened up.

"Maybe he just forgot?" Her voice was soft, like the cooing of some songbird.

Fallon smiled a cold smile. "No, Asalia. The Curse doesn't affect him like that. He's the weak willed one, you're the forgetful one." Asalia let go, dropping back to the floor and staring up at him with those big blue eyes.

"Oh. So what does that make you?" Her question was innocent, and Fallon wondered what had become of the book that told her such things...or had she forgotten already? He opened his mouth to speak but a harsh voice from behind him cut Fallon off.

"He's the heartless one." Turning slowly, Fallon stared Belart full in the eyes. He was an inch taller than his father, but far more slender. A massive hand rough with the calluses of war gripped the front of his black shirt in anger. "What did you do to him?"

"Would you believe me if I told you?" Staring at the angry faces around him, Fallon knew that the truth would never be well received.
"Maybe you should wait and ask Darith when he wakes up?"
King Belart was never known for making the wisest decisions, indeed, Fallon didn't think him all that wise for gripping his shirt roughly. Had Fallon been like his father and felt only anger, then by now both Belart and Darith both would have been so much smoking ash.

But Fallon felt nothing. He just stood there waiting for the King's decision. Would he have to tell the tale? Or would they wait for Darith and hear it straight from the lips of their much beloved prince? The choice was in the hands of the King...
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Told you the preview was in here somewhere...Hope you liked.

[Kalanna Rai]

Masterweaver wrote: As a public service announcement, I am placeing this as an example of spam. Spam has nothing to do with the storygame in question.

Spam someone else Weaver before I hunt you down and show up on your doorstep. I mean this.

[JezSharp]

Fallon should tell them clearly, best to get his own version in first, ensuring the insult he received about his mother is clearly stated - that ought to sway the crowd in his favor and Darith cannot deny that was so.

[Masterweaver]

The king allows them to keep their secret, cause he's good at spying.

[LordoftheNight]

He did save him afterall - it's not as if he had to. If he wanted Darith dead, then he'd have simply killed him. If Fallon tell the truth, then there's nothing that could really happen to him. Especially if he didn't want it to.

[Masterweaver]

But why did he save them? The plot thickens...

Maybe something to do with the family heirloom (or whatever it is)?

[LordoftheNight]

Masterweaver wrote: But why did he save them? The plot thickens...

Maybe something to do with the family heirloom (or whatever it is)?

I often wonder - do you actually read the stories you post on, or just pick words from it at random?

Rai clearly described why he saved Darith, and Belart hasn't needed saving.

[solus.serpen]

Wonderful story game :shock:

You have got yourself a newly dedicated reader, Rai, well done! :D

~Solus

[dinranwen]

If I was the King, I wouldn't listen to Fallen. After all there is no reason to believe him or to even believe that Fallon will tell the truth.

I think the King would wait to listen to Darith who being closer to him may perhaps tell the truth. But that opinion is only based of what I know of this so called King.

[Kalanna Rai]

Masterweaver wrote: family heirloom

Now you've lost me. Where exactly did I mention a family heirloom...other than the Kingdom itself?

[Kalanna Rai]

It's not dead, honest! Only going through the review process and then I'll get moving with the poll and, gasp, chapter three.

[Masterweaver]

I know that, and you know that, but does your christmas tree know that? No...

[LordoftheNight]

Congradulations - this story has passed the Review Board. UnderDark has been moved to the Fantasy Forum, and your 300 fables will be refunded.

[Kalanna Rai]

Poll is up, Merry Christmas!

[Masterweaver]

Is this going to be a two-choice per chap?

[Kalanna Rai]

No it's just only these two options fit.

[Masterweaver]

I think a two choice chap is more difficult (and fu) then the colorful multichoice.

[Guest]

Lovely...love it. Well. id say both, because who would believe only one story told. and if they hear the same story from the same person or a fraction that is the same, then he(fallon)was telling the truth. and then they would be double sure of what happend. :lol: :-D

[Masterweaver]

I agree with her. I think. What did she say?