One

The trek to Ieslal had been a long and rough one.

            Devyn Morneheure rubbed at her backside the moment she stepped foot from her adopted father’s carriage. Her bottom ached from the incessant sitting on uncomfortable cushioning. Oh, how she would have preferred horseback to a carriage. She enjoyed the hooves and movements as they lulled her into sweet bliss.

            “Devyn, I insist you stop that at once,” her mother reprimanded her. Lady Thora was very much posh and noble as highborn went. With her nose in the air, bosom constantly lifted, and mouth in a snooty pout, she commanded the household and demanded attention the moment she entered any room. Aye, she knew how to play the political role as much as her husband does.

            Devyn immediately quit her act and pressed her bottom lip between her teeth. Granted, she was the Tworidge’s “daughter”, a lowly lord under the king of Edrein, taken in when she was found swaddled in softcloth as a babe, she was still nothing in their eyes. Given all the love and respect of a peasant girl, she was treated very much like the outcast she was. An orphan, with no family bloodline known, and amethyst eyes.

            Whispers around Edrein said the girl had come from an ancient power, one that practiced the Dark Crafts that had been outlawed long ago. Only those under this clan, the name shall not be spoken, had amethyst eyes and dark hair. Mystical and dreamlike, they were creatures, resembling humans, who wreaked havoc amongst the lands. Asna’s kingdoms placed a halt on those clans many years prior and executed those who still worshipped the Dark Goddess. But Devyn never practiced these dangerous crafts nor did she know anyone who did and therefore, dispelled those rumors as did her family.

            Dev found herself staring up at the large castle of Ieslal, its exterior very much like its surroundings: dark and vast. The kingdom was just about as great as Drovalor was, with more citizens and buildings outlining its walls. The city was a bustling one, much different from Edrein and the Freedom Lands that only housed small towns scattered throughout. The roads were lined with cobblestones, perfectly laid out to support intricate designs in the streets. The buildings were of the Broslan architecture: sharp edges and tall walls. Tenants lived on top of one another!

            Devyn noted the strange building structures as they rode through the town, comparing them to those of their own edifices. The humans tended to spread out, over farmland rather than up and out. Still, their towns were sufficient enough to adequately support life around them. She had never traveled outside of Edrein and looked very much the sightseer part the moment she stepped in front of the castle. It loomed over the Tworidges and Morneheure.

            Spires that ended in a point towered above the near eighty foot wall. Rows upon rows of blocks formed the different rooms and sections of the rulers’ keep. Banners lined the front entrance along with the family flag colors: blood red, black, and silver. Strange colors.

            Elissa, Devyn’s sister and best friend, looped her arm through Dev’s. A wide smile plastered the older girl’s face, spreading out her sprinkled freckles and big, green eyes. “Isn’t this exciting?”

            Several weeks before their journey, the Tworidges were somehow invited to attend King Davorin’s eldest daughter’s marriage to the Duke of the Westlands. Dev was suspicious of this invitation but accepted with the hopes of meeting a royal for the first time. Given Lord Tworidge only held a few thousand acres under his rule, he held prominent fortitude in Edrein’s political court, having befriended the king himself and his advisors.

            Elissa squeezed Dev’s elbow as she tugged her along into the cool entrance of the throne room, whispering her enthusiasm. Devyn wasn’t one much for frilly and splendor things but, she went along with it to appease her adopted family. There, they saw the throne upon which King Davorin typically sat along with three tall-backed chairs flanking its right side. The one closest was set for the prince, of course. Tapestries and drapes of all kinds lined the back wall behind the throne along with several jewel studded pillows, some larger than a couple’s sized bed, were placed around the seats both for decoration and for comfort. The colors were rich and deep: mahogany, purples, magenta, reds, and blacks.

            Broslans were a strange race. They delved for luxury while also being cold and withdrawn. A wooden beam stood behind the dais that supported the thrones. It sported a long length of light fabric of a reddish color that draped over the sides of the stage, pooling in what resembled a puddle of blood. Golden tassels were sewn into the edges of the fabric with extended chains dripping down in front.

            It was quite exquisite and exotic.

            When Devyn was not looking at the royal seats, her eyes were wandering to the various columns that helped hold up the stone room. All the faces of the gods were carved into the posts with the youngest ones being on the bottom and their ancestors closer to the top. Their expressions were that of gratitude and arrogance, indicating they knew their place and power. Of course, the Dark Goddess’s face had been etched out and scratched from existence from a time when many worshipped her. That was no longer the case.

            Those who even so much as uttered a prayer to Impera, their throats would be sliced and blood spilled. She was cast out of the God’s Sanctuary many, many years ago. Devyn was not entirely up to speed on Impera’s cast out of paradise because the details are quite muddy.

            While thinking of the Dark Goddess’s past, Devyn found herself alone in the throne room save for the servants milling about and the various subjects coming to seek guidance and coin. Elissa and her parents must have gone to the Guest Wing and did not think to alert her. Surely Ellie would have said something unless Lady Thora tugged on her skirt to point her in the right direction.

            Dev often wondered why the Tworidges took her in in the first place. Maybe out of pity? Or out of fear for rumors spreading that one of them parented a b*****d. There really was no telling with them because their treatment of Devyn wasn’t the kindest but, she did have her freedoms.

            Confused and unsure of where to go, Dev chose a hallway closest to her on the left. It was dark and empty and lengthy. Stepping into the cooler vestibule, she clutched her travelling cloak closer to her bosom. It was a crushed blue velvet that trailed the floor as she walked, complementing her cream gown with lacing on the front and sleeves that went down to her knees.

            Her boots clacked and echoed as she went further into the darkness.

 

 

Reviews

[Barbara Tennyson]

The roads were lined with cobblestones, perfectly laid out to support intricate designs in the streets. --how does that work? The streets themselves form an intricate design? Or is this supposed to mention the design the cobblestones form? If so, how? Different colored cobblestones? Different sizes? I can't get a visual on this.

I suggest you employ a less convoluted style in favor of simple clarity. 'Given Lord Tworidge only held a few thousand acres under his rule, he held prominent fortitude in Edrein’s political court, having befriended the king himself and his advisors.' would benefit from a more straight-forward construction. (Also, check out 'fortitude' in a dictionary. Don't use a thesaurus, look at the definition)

Some comments seem to contradict each other: 'Dev was suspicious of this invitation but accepted with the hopes of meeting a royal for the first time.' & 'Devyn wasn’t one much for frilly and splendor things but, she went along with it to appease her adopted family.'

I find Dev wandering around the palace ALONE improbable: If her family had an escort, a page or footman or more likely, several footmen, would the servants just forget about a member of Lord Tworidge's party? Why did no one notice her?
(And is _Tworidge_ his name or his title? If it's his title, Thora should be 'Lady Tworidge'.)

[Ja Strangelyn]

Hi. Thank you for your review and questions. This is my first draft of this story and it is therefore REALLY unfinished. I plan on fixing several issues, that you have pointed out, at a later date. I'm just really trying to finish one novel before it becomes perfect. Baby steps. And for their title, I am aware of how wrong they may sound and not suitable, however, this is a fantasy story and it is not set during our time and/or world, so the titles will be addressed but for now I will continue writing the story before I make it flawless.
Also, as far as Devyn is concerned, her reasons for being both suspicious and not having an escort will be revealed further along in the novel.
And for the roads, I was trying to say that the streets were laid out in intricate designs but I'm sure I didn't notice this until you pointed it out. Thank you for that.
Again, this novel is far from complete and perfect but I know that.
Merry Christmas!