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tamlynstales · 2 years

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Vendren's Landing (circa 2018)

As the sun rose over the city of Theza, the warmth of the rays pushed back the mist that rolled in from the ocean every night and slowly the sky shifted to pastels. Reaching through the clouds, the sun came through the windows of the castle that sits at the heart of the city and into the princess’ bedroom, turning the inside of her eyelids and warm red. Groaning and rolling away from the sunlight, she rubbed the sleep from her eyes and squinted into the morning light, bright teal eyes opening to meet honey colored ones, set in warm chocolate skin.

“Good morning, my sea-elf,” whispered Jaida, leaning down to kiss Ari. Ari twined her fingers through Jaida’s thin dreadlocks and pulled her closer.

“Good morning to you too,” said Ari, pulling back with a sly smirk on her lips. The two lay together and watched the dawn light catch the multicolored silks that hung from the tall ceiling. Jaida turned her attention to Ari’s face, and began running her fingers softly over her navy freckles and high cheekbones, then her fingers found the dark purple circles that had settled under Ari’s eyes and her brow creased with worry.

“You’re not getting enough sleep,” she stated, “and you’ve been coming in later and later the past few nights. What’s been going on?” Jaida’s voice was warm and concerned, factual but not accusing.

“Someone has been adding more guards to the night watch, with overlapping rotations. Mostly around this side of the castle,” Ari sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of her nose, “I almost got caught a few times last night. Got to hand it to your father, he’s a clever bastard.”

“I’m getting so tired of his shit,” Jaida said, shoving herself off the pillows and sitting up, “It’s all ‘Jaida do this’, ‘Jaida be that’, ‘Jaida you can’t possibly know what’s best’! Gods! I hate him sometimes!”

Ari sat up next to her and put a calming hand between her shoulder blades, “Well honey, he’s the Regent, you’re the princess, and I’m just a half-breed commoner and occasional thief. To top it off we haven’t always been careful about hiding things between us.”

“I don’t like it when you talk about yourself that way,” Jaida quipped her, “And none of that should matter. You make me happy.”

A short knock on the door made both of them spring apart, Ari tumbling off the side of the bed to hide, and Jaida pulling on a robe and going toward the large mahogany door. Crawling underneath the bed, Ari hastily pulled on her clothes and palmed the hilt of her silver and bronze dagger. The knock came again, followed by a familiar voice, “Guys it’s just me, let me in,” it was the soft deep voice of Jaida’s older brother Jareth. Ari released her tense grip on the dagger and rolled out from under the bed. Jaida breathed a sigh, and opened the door just enough for him to slide through, locking it swiftly behind him.

“What are you doing here Jareth? It’s ridiculously early,” Jaida asked her brother, sitting back down on her bed.

“Morning Jareth,” said Ari, popping up, messily dressed, and plopping herself back down onto the bed.

“So… actually,” Jareth ran a hand through his shoulder length dreads, “Shit, um… father wants to see us in his study. All of us.” His eyes meet Ari’s with an apologetic look.

“Well fuck,” said Ari, falling backwards on the bed.

. . .

Minutes later, the three of them stood outside the Regent’s study. Large wooden double doors stood before them, carved with ornate leaves covered in gold paint. Ari could feel her breath hitching and a quiver running from her fingertips and up her arm. Jaida, placed a hand on her shoulder and Ari felt the quiver fall away. Taking a breath, she calmed herself and reached for the same sense of balance and control that she would use to cast magic.

Jareth stood before the doors, looking back at his sister and Ari, “You ready?”

Ari nodded, and Jareth pushed the doors open, revealing the inside of a massive study. The walls were lined with bookshelves which were filled with leather-bound tomes, and a marble topped desk sat in the center of the room, on one side of which were two purple cushioned chairs and on the other side a tall arm chair with carved motifs that match those on the doors. Behind this chair, standing in front of a large window which showed a view over the rest of Theza, was the Regent.

His long black dreads were adorned with gold bands and half pulled back into a braid, and a thin bronze circlet sat atop his head. He wore a long dark crushed-velvet emerald cloak with fine embroidery along the trim.

“Please sit,” The Regent Vardon said, without turning away from the window, his voice measured. Jareth and Jaida took the two cushioned arm chairs, and Ari placed herself behind Jaida, with a hand on her shoulder.

“I have some news for you,” Vardon turned to face them, and met his children’s warm eyes with cold grey ones, “it may not be what you expect to hear. Arienne, I have known—“

“It’s Ari,” she snapped at him, “only my father calls me Arienne.”

“Ari, tread carefully,” Jareth told her under his breath.

“I have known of your involvement with my children for some time,” Vardon told her coolly, his piercing gaze meeting hers, “You are not as sneaky as you think you are. Thus far I have allowed this because I thought that Jaida would grow out of her friendship with you, and that it would be a good learning experience for her. But, Jaida,” he turned to address his daughter now, “no amount of determination can bring her with you to where you are intended to go. You are meant to become a leader, to follow in my footsteps and lead our people when I no longer can. You can’t do that with a half-breed at your side.”

“Only according to you Father,” spat Jaida, “Ari has done nothing but teach me how to be a more compassionate and open-minded leader. How can you not see that? How can you not see that maybe a partnership like this,” she twined her fingers with Ari’s, “is what our people need?”

“Jaida, I know you have the best of intentions, but you are young. None of you can know the ways of the world yet. And whatever this is, may cause you more harm than good in the long run. Can’t you see I just want the best for you?”

“The best for me?!” Jaida was now standing out of her chair, “how can you even claim to know what that is? You hardly know me anymore! Outside of my studies and shadowing you at court you hardly acknowledge me. I am just a pawn to you.”

“No Jaida, you misunderstand my actions. I am merely trying to get you to be ready to lead without me. Which means not relying on me,” Vardon replied, a modicum of warmth seeping into his tone, “But this is not what I called you here to discuss. I have been in negotiations with the royal family of Elane, and have arranged for your hand in marriage.”

The entire room went silent and still. Jaida fell back into her seat and Ari felt her heartbeat in her throat.

“They have a large family, and you would have your choice of partners; boy, girl, in-between, I care not. Further it would solidify trade with Elane and rid the growing tensions between the two islands. It would allow you the chance to rule both, and unify the countries. Your union would bring an era of piece.”

While Vardon spoke, Ari’s eyes did not leave Jaida’s face, and she watched as tears welled in Jaida’s eyes and slowly streamed down her face, the rest of Jaida’s expression remaining blank and stoney. Ari felt her calm facade cracking, and she longed to raise her voice, maybe even a hand, in defiance to the Regent. Her eyes lifted to Vardon’s, and she met his gaze, his eyes going cold and cruel, throwing daggers at her.

“Jaida,” Vardon turned his attention back to his daughter, “I have charted a ship to take you to Elane a fortnight from now. You will remain there until the ceremony after which you will return home with your new partner.”

“No,” Jaida said frankly, raising her gaze from her hands curled on her lap to challenge her father’s gaze, “No I will not. You wish for me to lead, and to become the next Regent, yet you give me no agency over my own life. How can I guide a people when I cannot even guide myself? I refuse father, and you cannot make me go through with it.”

Vardon leapt from his seat, and slammed his hands on the table, “I will not have you waste your life this way!”

“You mean with her?” Jaida retorted, “It’s because she’s a sea-elf isn’t it? If she were just a common girl you’d let me be.”

Ari could feel the heat in her cheeks and the tears rushing to her eyes, but she pushed them back, gripping Jaida’s hand tight in her own. Part of her knew this day would come, it was a slim chance to begin with that they would get their happy ending.

“Father? Can’t you let them be? Isn’t there another way?” asked Jareth, his chocolate eyes pleading with his father.

“Don’t bother Jareth,” snarled Ari, “His prejudice runs too deep. Honestly, I’m surprised he’s not forcing Jaida to marry a man as well.”

“You understand this is not a passing fancy? I love her father,” Jaida spoke in a frank tone, only a slight break in her voice betrayed her emotions.

“Really?” The question burst from Ari’s lips before she could stop herself.

“Yes silly,” replied Jaida, turning to meet Ari’s gaze with a warm smile, she pulled her closer, “I love you.” She leaned down and kissed Ari sweetly on the lips. Vardon looked away and grumbled something under his breath, while Jareth’s lips twitch into a small smile.

“I love you too,” said Ari, break from the kiss.

“Then you two force my hand,” Vardon reached into a drawer in his desk and pulled forth a large piece of parchment, already bearing the royal crest and a good amount of writing, “Jaida, I hope you can see I do this for you and maybe that you’ll forgive me someday,” He turned his gaze to Ari and picked a peacock feathered quill from his desk, “Arienne Freetide you are hereby exiled from Cembry from this day forth and will be charged with treason and sentenced to death if you should ever return. You will have three days to settle your affairs.”

Before Ari realized what she was doing, she had pulled her dagger from her hip, jumped onto the desk, grabbed the Regent by the scruff of his jacket and was holding the blades edge to his throat.

“Ari, no!” Shouted both Jaida and Jareth. Ari could feel Jaida’s hands grasping the back of her cloak.

“Fuck your racist bullshit!” Tears streamed down Ari’s face, blurring her vision. Her ears filled with the sound of waves crashing in a storm.

“Ari, he’s not worth it,” Jareth said calmly, putting a hand on her shoulder, “Let him go.” The waves crashing in Ari’s ears calmed and slowed. She took a breath, held Vardon’s gaze and shoved him back into his seat, “This is not the last you’ll see of me Vardon Amaro, royal scum.” With that she holstered her dagger, jumped off the desk, took Jaida’s hand and pushed open the doors of the study.

. . .

Near Donnavern Harbor, a small shop sat crammed between tall buildings cluttering the cobblestone street before it. A weathered wooden sign that hung above the door read The Vanguard’s Voyage, the yellow paint of the lettering cracking and flaking away. Inside the shop, sitting in the center of the large front desk, was a small ornate chest with silver swirls decorating the corners.

Across from the chest, behind auburn bangs, bright teal eyes focused sharply on the chest. A small bead of sweat rolled down the pale, blue-freckled forehead.

“Ugh! I can’t do it Vic,” she growled in frustration, pushing back from the desk and glaring at the man standing next to her. The man was dressed in a loose tunic and high collared plum frock coat, with his silver hair falling in braids past the tips of his pointed ears.

“Yes Ari, you can,” he replied, and putting a hand on her shoulder, “You’re too tense. Calm yourself and reach out with the magic. Try again.”

“Okay,” Ari said, pushing her hair back from her face revealing more navy freckles and her small pointed frost-blue tipped ears. She took a deep breath and centered herself, looking again toward the chest. She held up her hand and snapped her fingers. She held her hand aloft for a moment, watching the chest.

“Fuck this!” Ari exploded suddenly, stomping around the desk and toward the front of the shop, then turning back and began pacing angrily.

“You’ll get it eventually,” said Vicril with a small laugh, “Come on. One more try.”

“Fine,” she grumbled, “but it’s not my fault if the chest explodes or something.” She cracked her knuckles, stretched her shoulders, and again centered her breath and focused on the chest. Just flip the top open, she thought, come on. Just open it.

Once again Ari raised her hand in front of her, and as she flicked her wrist a silver shimmer, like mist, collected around her hand and lifted off, like a glove. The specter floated over to the chest, flipped the latch open, and tossed back the lid. With a small wave and thumbs up towards its owner, it dissipated into the air.

“Nicely done!” Vicril said, a hint of pride in his voice, “How did that feel?”

Ari, busy staring at the empty space where the hand had been, blinked and turned to him, “Good. Unexpectedly easy,” she chuckled. Again she snapped her fingers, this time the silvery hand appeared before her. Concentrating, Ari guided the hand toward the open chest and reaching in to it, pulled out a long silver and bronze dagger. Along the blade and hilt, the dagger was etched with elvish letters.

“It’s for you. Congratulations on your first spell. Now, use it wisely,” Vicril told her, eying her intently.

“Thank you Vic,” Ari said meeting his eyes, “and you know I always do my best,” she added with a smirk.

The door to the shop pushed open, the bells above the door ringing pleasantly, as a gruff human man with dark tanned skin and black hair walked in squinting from the sun.

“Ada,” Ari called as she ran to greet him, “look what I can do!” The spectral hand floated above her shoulder and waved at the man.

“I’m proud of you kiddo,” Bregan said, chuckling. He patted her warmly on the shoulder as he headed toward the back of the shop.

“What are you doing back so early Bregan?” Vicril asked, smiling at Ari.

“Got commissioned for a bigger job down at Vendren’s Landing, and needed to get a few more things,” poking his head around the corner, “Actually I could use some help if you and Ari are done for the day.”

At this Ari perked up, she found the sailors at the dock entertaining and easy to pickpocket, especially considering they didn’t expect such things from a girl. I wonder if I could use the Mage Hand for that, she thought to herself, smiling a bit.

“Vendren’s Landing? That’s good. It’s been a while since you’ve had a job there,” Vicril said surprised, “Of course you can take Ari, I know you two enjoy your work,” Vicril winked at Ari knowingly.

“Yeah, one of the Emerald Guild’s ships has been having some trouble with her sails and they asked me to take a look. We shouldn’t be too long.” Bregan said between the sounds of things being pushed off shelves, “Ari do you know where my stitching kit is?”

“It’s here under the front desk,” she called, as a crashing sound came from the back, “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine!” Bregan answered, while Ari and Vicril tried to stifle their laughter. Bregan came around the corner throwing a hefty leather backpack over his shoulder, “You ready to go?”

“Yes,” said Ari, leaning around the desk to pick up the small chest that held Bregan’s stitching kit, “Let’s go.”

As they walked out of the shop Ari placed her new dagger in a holster on her belt and tossed an indigo scarf around her neck.

“Ari, remember what I said. Use your gifts wisely,” Vicril called after her. She just waved back at him, smiling slyly.

. . .

The sun high overhead warmed the wood of the docks as Ari and Bregan made their way weaving through the crowds of soldiers and merchants busy loading and unloading the ships docked in Vendren’s Landing. Many of the ships were navy vessels, built for the defense of the island, and were manned by soldiers. These ships had crisp white sails and all had the same cerulean and golden colors flying. In contrast were the smaller merchant vessels, with weathered sails and different flown colors.

“Which one are we headed to?” Ari asked her father, glancing around and taking in the salty smell of the ocean mixed with sweat and smoking tobacco.

“That one over there,” Bregan replied, pointing toward a caravel named The Drifter. The ship was made from a chestnut wood and looked worn and well-loved, it’s sails patched with fabrics of red and yellow.

As they got closer to The Drifter, Ari could see that docked across from it was a large three-masted galleon flying a flag of emerald with gold trim, currently being unloaded.

“Ada, what’s that ship over there?” Ari asked, pointing toward the galleon.

“Oh that? That is The Siren’s Song. She’s the lead ship of the Emerald Guild and is captained by the Regent’s son. She’s a beauty, isn’t she?” He told her, his voice reverent, “I would love to work on a ship like that.”

“Yeah,” Ari said, trailing off in awe.

Once on The Drifter Bregan went to talk with the captain, and Ari leaned against the railing of the deck, still taking in the view of The Siren’s Song across the way. Half of the fun was imagining what sailing on a ship would be like, the other half was the life that came from the ocean; the breeze, the smell of the saltwater, the bustling dock laid out before her. Ari found herself gazing off into the sails of The Siren’s Song, when suddenly a head of long, dark dreaded hair came into her view.

A young woman with a grey vest and a crate lazily thrown over one shoulder was making her way down the gangplank of The Siren’s Song, making conversation with a well-dressed sailor next to her. She laughed and smiled warmly as she gently nudged the shoulder of the man with her; Ari felt a smile creep across her lips. The sailor said something to the woman, then leaned in to whisper something. Suddenly, the woman turned toward The Drifter, and met Ari’s gaze. Heat rushed to Ari’s cheeks as the woman meet her gaze with honey colored eyes, smiled at her, then gave a small wave. Turning back to her counterpart, she rolled her eyes and began making her way back up the gangplank.

“Ari,” said Bregan, placing a hand on her shoulder. Ari jumped and placed a hand on her holstered dagger, her face getting red again.

“Oh! Sorry Ada, you startled me,” she said, laughing nervously.

“We should get to work.”

“Yeah, alright.”

“You can go introduce yourself later,” Bregan told her, chuckling, as Ari’s expression went from mild embarrassment to shock and horror.

#college creative writing #old writing #dnd inspired #fantasy #oc #lgbtq #writers on tumblr #rough draft

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