Symmetry ~ A fic by Samchu and Eevee_Shayna

[Samchu]

Well I know a few of you were waiting for it and with Kitt and Katt wrapped up we have at last turned our attention to another long-term project. Hopefully you'll enjoy this one as much as you enjoyed our last.

So without further adue, I present to you our tale of two very different yet very similar princesses...

Symmetry

A vicious storm had broken upon the silent Kingdom. Wrapped safe inside their blankets the villagers slept on as the heavens unleashed their fury on the feeble Earth. In the valleys the rivers rose and burst, spilling their contents on to the fields that sat beside their banks. Mud ran from the hills in angry floods, barricading doors and windows with their filth. Thunder tore across the grey and clouded sky, freezing the air in perpetual stillness. In the distance, lightning crashed. A lone tree lost its heart to the deathly strike and its body crumbled beneath fires that followed.

Yet the gardens of the palace remained untouched, as though a veil had been cast across it, protecting it from the onslaught. The fountains flowed bountifully onto the flowers, washing them with life and granting them the glimmering beauty that only nature’s hands could weave. A sea of grass rolled and crashed onto the patio, swaying to the beat of the foul wind that tore its way through the open land.

Well protected from the fierce storm, Surai sat cross-legged on the patio in peaceful meditation. The cruelties of the Gods were lost inside the serene calmness of her mind but in her thoughts she saw the beauty beyond her – the life that was throwing itself into her garden. Through her silence she saw the rivers that streamed throughout the grass, the crying statues, the dancing trees. The fantasy. For that’s all it was, a fairytale, the other side of reality – of the truth. It was nothing but wind and rain – she knew that – but she needed to believe there was something else. It was the only way to achieve calm. Believe in something that isn’t real, see a thing that isn’t there. Being one step ahead of fate; of your enemy. True focus. No distractions, only concentration. Remember the goal and never lose focus –

“Suri!”

With a sigh, Surai lifted her katana from her lap and headed inside, where her twin, Layla, was impatiently waiting for her. Layla was the only person who called her Suri, she’d always struggled with her sister’s name when she was younger and somehow the name had stuck. Layla had been calling her Suri ever since. Not that it bothered her, growing up they had always kept things between them. Usually it was only secrets about where the nanny’s glasses had been hidden whilst her back was turned but a name was no different. ‘Besides’, Surai had thought to herself, ‘it keeps Layla happy’.

“It’s time to go,” in a moment, Layla had thrown off the childlike visage and offered herself as the young woman she had slowly become. It was her way; to switch constantly between the mature and insightful leader that she was no doubt destined to be, and the child from her youth whom she was still desperately trying to hold on to. It was a feat Surai herself would have been happy to partake in but she had lost her innocence and youth a long time ago. She remembered the day well, as did Layla, and held for it a bitter loathing that had driven her to find a new persona. It was how she coped with the inevitable change that would shortly part them, by distancing herself from it, denying it would ever happen but knowing all the while that it would. She had tried to accept it, tried to prepare herself for the responsibilities that lay before her but she couldn’t bear to let herself imagine what sort of responsibilities they would be. All that mattered was that in the end, she would find herself separated from her sister, distanced from the one with whom she held the strongest of unspoken bonds.

She resented change for that and that alone and the past years had been spent denying change its chance to take her sister from her. She fought against every opportunity, withstood fate and tradition just to grasp a few more precious days but at every step there was always something trying to stop her. As she had been turning down suitors from every noble family in the Kingdom, Layla had found herself a suitor of her own, one with whom she had spent many blissful afternoons in the warm gardens of the palace. By the next sunset they would be betrothed. He and Layla would wed and that would be the end of it. She would live with him and Surai would be forced so stay behind, alone and trapped in frenzied anticipation for their next visit. She wouldn’t find herself companionless for long though. Law forbade the monarchy from falling into the hands of an unmarried leader and if she did not pick a husband on her own her parents would be forced to pick one for her. Her existence would crumble to a shell of its former glory. She would find herself a symbol of the people but not a leader of them. She would bear his children and raise them to serve the people of their land knowing full well that only one of them would be chosen for the task. Her years would wither into frailty and she would die, alone and empty on the inside, forever cursing the day her life was taken from her.

Yet, despite how bleak and dismal her life seemed destined to become, there was no running from it. Her Kingdom was her home and she would not abandon it, not even at the cost of her own happiness. Her people needed her to become their leader and with Layla’s path leading her elsewhere and her mother infertile with disease, there was no other option for her. As much as she hated it, as much as she resented the unfairness of it all, in the end she had no choice. There was only one path for her now and as one who had so willingly placed their heart in a warrior’s training, she knew that the easy road came with acceptance. All she wished was that Layla would find happiness in her new life and find herself free from fear or resentment. If Layla could find peace, then perhaps Surai too could find some closure in her destiny.

“I’m ready.”

* * *

They made their way east, towards the bustling fields that lined the edge of their Kingdom. A cave lay there, sealed for so long that the ancient scriptures that snaked across its entrance had lost all meaning. All they knew was that it housed a demon. It was with that knowledge that the two princesses made their way across the oozing land, huddled beneath the parasols that the servants had handed them to protect them from the storm’s rage. Over the past couple of days complaints had risen from the villagers. They told the most unsettling tales; fields turning to ash, crops going sour overnight. At first there was no explanation for it. Scholars and priests alike were sent to investigate but they could not explain it. An enigma that neither science nor religion could explain.

Then, a few nights past, a woman had come to the palace. She had told the guards that greeted her that she had come from the fields where her husband worked – she’d gone to collect the family’s scythe, which he’d carelessly forgotten – and she had seen a crack in the entrance of the cave. As the days drew, the troubles of the villagers increased and the cracks that webbed the cave’s entrance grew in depth and multitude until a tiny entrance had appeared. It was then they had decided to send Surai and Layla to investigate. It was their duty as future heirs to oversee the balance of the Kingdom and they were honoured to serve their people.

By the time they reached the cave, little of them remained that was neither soaked nor shivering. Surai was surprised to see how calm and collected her sister appeared beneath her watery veil yet she knew better than to judge Layla by her appearance. Her wings, the rare and precious shade of ebony, stood firm and raised against her shoulders. Normally she would carry them with a greater dignity – relaxed and folded against her back – but they had a habit of betraying her emotions too greatly. They huddled together beneath the flickering light of a burning torch, surrounded only by the heavy echoes of the storm outside and water dropping at their feet. Only silence passed their lips before they eventually dared to venture deeper into the chamber.

A row of burning torches lit their path. They held no fuel of which to feed yet their flames roared with ethereal intensity, shrouding the walls in fierce shadows bathed in orange hues. Deeper into the cave they walked; their footsteps a dull beat beneath the melody of the storm. With every passing second they could its violent onslaught fading from their ears until the air was filled with suffocating silence. Here they stopped again. Before them stretched an endless tunnel framed by firelight. They could walk forever it seemed and never reach the end.

“We won’t get very far like this.”

Layla took a step forward. Her wings rose with anticipation then fell with such unimaginable force that her body was thrust from the floor and left to hover graciously in the empty air. “I’ll fly on ahead and see if there’s anything. You’ll follow me?”

“Of course.”

They exchanged the briefest of smiles.

“Be careful,” Layla called to her sister, as with a beat of her seemingly frail wings she sped into the distance.

Surai stood for a moment, watching as her sister disappeared beneath the hazy horizon. “You be more careful,” she whispered.



Layla made her way down the ever-darkening mouth of the cave, her nimble form gracefully darting between the razor-sharp stalactites that hovered around her. Now and again the tunnel would grow smaller, forcing her to her feet from fear that her wings would be torn to shreds by the jagged walls of the cave. As time drew on she began to feel the anticipation growing within her. Layla hated to be separated from her sister; it made her anxious and uneasy. If something were to go wrong she would have no one to turn to for help. Surai had always been there when she’d needed her but the further apart they were the harder it was for them to retain their connection. Even now, Layla could feel the bonds that joined them beginning to tense and secretly she feared that after tomorrow she would be forced to feel it breaking forever. She took to the air once again, letting her wings fill the space between herself and ever-narrowing walls. Just as Surai had never made known her true feelings about their fates, Layla too had kept her views secret. Somehow she doubted that their parents would look kindly on the loyalties she had chosen.

Moments later, Layla came across the ancient tomb of the sleeping demon. Tucked against the deepest wall of the cave was a large stone coffin engraved with ancient text just as intricate and unreadable as those that decorated the cave’s entrance. She landed gracefully, angelic in the flickering light of the flames that surrounded the unholy sanctuary. Her footsteps echoed loudly as she approached the coffin. Her heart was beating so fast she could feel the blood pounding in her ears and the numbing aching of the chest. She peered across the lid of the coffin and with a heavy sigh of relief and fear she found that it had been torn apart, leaving only the tiniest remnants on the coffin’s boundaries. She peered inside and within an instant felt the sharp stab of air as her breaths caught in her throat. The stories were true, a demon had once been imprisoned here and in its rage it had left its claw-like imprints on the walls of its cell but this was not what paled her cheeks or froze her heart. It was the terrifying yet undeniable truth that was destined to change the course of her life, and her sister’s, forever.

“It’s gone.”



As time had ventured on, so too had Surai. Her wingless position had granted her the position of sweeper, for she was left to walk the dark and lonely passages on her own, a look-out for anything her sister might have missed. She had not gone far when she first felt it, that sudden rush of unease that comes only with the appearance of something that shouldn’t be. Her hand instinctively shot to the handle of her katana, yet it remained dormant inside her sheath. No sense in threatening an unknown enemy. Not yet at least.

She edged forward carefully, determined to keep her footsteps as silent as possible. Even with the fierce echoes of the cave there were those who could still use such sounds to find her. After a while she knew it no longer mattered. Whatever was following her already knew exactly where she was and she could feel its cold gaze upon her neck as she walked. Her grip tightened upon her blade and with a fluent motion of such speed and grace that many would have missed its delicacy; she pulled her blade from her belt and tore through the space behind her.

She frowned in aggravation. Her attempt had done little more than disturb the air and once again she felt the darkened stare behind her. She spun again but once more her blade met emptiness. She twisted the handed in her hands and thrust the blade backwards past her hip before crouching low and turning on her heels, slashing through the space around her shins. With this ritual complete she cast a quick gaze at the edges of her blade and was shocked to find them as clear and bloodless as they had ever been. To make matters worse, she could still feel the intense unease of eyes tearing into skin.

“No human could move so fast…”

A deep laughter filled the cave, though it seemed to haunt her mind more than the darkened space around her. Something began to torment her from the shadows, cursing her in ancient tongue but angering her nonetheless. She called out to it, demanding it to end its cowardice and confront her. Secretly, she never expected it to obey her.

The first footstep shook the very stones above them, the second was enough to lodge some loose and they fell, shattering on the uneven ground. In the dim light Surai could barely make it out but she had seen all that she needed. Taken up her blade once again, she charged into the unknown, a blurry warrior with a streak of purest silver. Planting her foot before her, she thrust her weight forward, sending her sword up and through the body of her enemy. Yet he felt nothing. The sword pierced the unseen flesh as easily as it pierced air and yet it returned to her without sign of injury. No blood, no cloth, not even a trace of skin. It was impossible. She had made contact, she knew she had. Perhaps the lighting had thrown off her senses. That had to be the answer.

The laughter came again, distracting her from the thoughts that clouded her mind. A fist flew out of nowhere, catching her sharply in the ribs and throwing her body back against the wall, where it bounced and tumbled gracelessly to the floor. Groaning, Surai slowly rose to her feet, leaning against her katana for support. How stupid of her. To be caught off guard so easily was an insult to everything she had learned about battle. She would have to redeem herself. Catching her breath she charged once more, her blade raised like a glimmering beacon above her. She made sure to get closer this time, so close that she could smell the stench of rot that hung around her enemy. She pulled down her weapon even faster than before but it was her arm, not her steel that met flesh. Its grip tightened against her wrist until she was forced to abandon her weapon from fear her bones with snap. Satisfied, her opponent pushed forward, driving her back in to a better-lit part of the cave where at last she was able to see the creature that had beaten her.

Her eyes widened with fear as she looked upon it, a monstrous entity bathed in scales so black the sun itself would fail to penetrate it. It had to be at least seven feet in height, with horns so tall and twisted they scratched at the roof of the cave, causing dust to fall into its tuff of blazing red hair. It stared down at her, panting slightly from its laughter, clouds of smoke billowing from the nostrils in its bull-like nose. She dared not move. The firey stare which it had set upon her held her firmly in place and one look at its rows of sharp and deadly teeth were enough to extinguish all thoughts of resistance that may – for the briefest of moments – have crossed her mind.

“Foolish child,” its voice rang deep inside her head, “you think your mortal weapons can hurt me?”

“What are you?” she asked. No doubt the thought alone would be enough to reach this monster but she was silently praying that Layla was on her way back and would come to her aid if she heard her voice. Perhaps together they could overpower it.

She heard it roar from deep within its throat. “Feuroc.”

The hairs on the back of her neck paled and saluted the sky. She had read about Fuerocs. They were fire demons, bringers of chaos and destruction, servants of the underworld – or so it was written. Their kind was supposed to have been wiped out during the Age of Rebirth, when the White Riders had driven such monsters from the land, granting freedom to civilisation. “What do you want?” It was hard to keep her voice from shaking.

It growled again. “To take back the Kingdom that was stolen from me.” His empty claw shot forward, easily penetrating the soft flesh surrounding Surai’s heart. She gasped as her body fell into stillness. She could feel its grip on her heart. “And you will help me do it.” Its flesh burned into a stream of fire that shot its way along the demon’s arm and into her unprotected chest. She tried to scream but the sound caught in her throat and she could manage the pathetic gagging of one choking on their own tongue. She could feel its darkened presence growing inside her, running through her veins until they cried out in pain. The intensity of its heat surrounded her until she lost all other feeling and collapsed to the floor, silent and breathless.

Minutes dragged past in eternity. Not even the air dared to move and torches which had always danced and flickered burnt with eternal numbness. Eventually, a finger twitched. Surai gradually dragged her body from the floor and knelt for a moment in the cool air as her mind tried to resettle. It couldn’t bear to believe the memories that it held, yet one look at the wrist with which the monster had so firmly held her was enough to shock her mind into acceptance. A black mark had appeared on her skin. She ran her finger across it. It was hard and bumpy, like scales but it was flexible. When she bent her wrist the scales would stretch as easily as human flesh. At the moment it was little more than a few centimetres long, stretching from the back of her wrist to within an inch of her knuckles, but she knew it wouldn’t stay that way for long. She had read enough scriptures about demonic possession to know how it worked. This patch of skin would spread, slowly at first, then quickening as the demon began to strengthen its hold her mind. It wouldn’t take long; a month perhaps, two if she was unlucky. She would have to wait for her life to end, everyday feeling more of her existence being absorbed by the demon until one day there would be nothing left. She would simply be…gone.

“Suri!”

With a rush of panic, Surai slipped her katana into its sheath and tore a sleeve from her shirt to hide the demon’s mark. She had barely managed to tuck the final fold into place when Layla appeared from a bend in the cave.

“Did you find anything?” Surai asked, trying to steady her voice.

“There was a demon here but it’s gone. Did you find any sign of it?”

“No.”

Layla sighed and collapsed against the wall of the cave. “We were too late. Now our people are in danger.”

“There is nothing more we can do here. We should go home and report to Hayden. If there is a demon loose in our Kingdom then it is up to his priests to deal with it. That is what they have been trained for.”

“You’re right.” Layla sighed again. “I just wish that there was something we can do.”

“It is a hard truth but we must accept it. We are powerless.” She walked over to Layla and placed a comforting arm around her shoulders. “Come, no good will come of this if we stay. We must get men after this demon before he can cause greater damage to our people.”

Layla nodded. Her sister was right of course, all that they could do was report to Hayden. With a final sigh, Layla pushed her body from the wall and with hastened steps they made their way back across the pelted fields towards the palace.



Hayden, or Hayden the voice-giver as he was known by the people, was the high priest of the Kingdom. When the princesses came to him with news of their discoveries he wasted no time in sending orders to his priests. It seemed a foolish errand to send priests after a demon, what can those who act as messengers to the Gods do against powerful monsters? The art of demon slaying was dead – lost in time along with the enemies it had been created to vanquish – but Hayden had been determined to rediscover the art and taught his priests the ways of both a fighter and a follower.

“Fear not my young ones, my priests will take care of this monster. You must concern yourselves only with tomorrow night’s ceremony.”

“Yes Father,” Layla bowed her head, a man of the Gods demanded such respect even from royalty. She moved to leave but paused when she notice Surai wasn’t following her. She cast a questioning glance at her, as did Hayden.

“What is it my child?”

“Father, may I ask you something?”

“Of course my child.”

“You have read the scriptures in the library have you not? The ones that speak of the time before the Age of Rebirth.” She paused for an answer. Hayden paused for a moment then nodded gently. “What does it say,” continued Surai, “about possession? If a demon is loose in our Kingdom is there not a risk that it could take over the body of one of our own? And if it does, is there anything we can do to help them? Can you get rid of demon once it has claimed another’s body as its own?”

“These are questions you need not concern yourself with.”

“I have to know!” She clenched her fist as she tried to steady her nerves. She needed to know, was there really no hope for her. “Please Father, these people are my own. I have to know.”

A frown appeared across the old man’s wrinkled brow and he stood in thought for a moment, his hand caressing the length of his greying beard. “I have read that the White Riders came across a weapon of sorts on their travels. There are countless references to its use and success in destroying the demon however…” his voice grew grim, “the host has never survived it. Only a stab through the heart can kill the demon but no human could withstand such an injury.”

“Where is the weapon now?”

“Lost. It disappeared along with the Riders.”

“I see…thank you Father.” She mimicked the early gesture of her sister and Hayden bowed to them both before they vanished from his sight. His hand found his beard once again as his fingers drummed along the top of his staff. “Troubling times lie ahead I fear.” He paced the floor in silence, his staff creating dull echoes in the empty room. “I must consult the Gods.”

* * *

The walk back to their rooms was a testing time for both women. Surai’s mind was busily fighting its way out of a tangled web and Layla, who sensed a growing anguish in her sister, was trying to figure out what to say. Surai had never been one to keep secrets from her. She would always tell her if anything was bothering her or if she was concerned about something but she couldn’t understand why she wouldn’t explain the troubling thoughts that was obviously occupying her mind. There was clearly much more to them than she had revealed during her talk with Hayden.

By the time they reached their room both had failed in their tasks. Surai was still grappling with the uncertainty of her future and Layla had been unable to muster the courage to speak with her. In the end, they merely parted with the simplest of goodbyes and retreated to their beds to rest up before the tiring day ahead. Despite her concerns, Layla soon found herself safely caught within the soothing retreat of sleep and spent the night content in her dreamless state. Surai on the other hand, couldn’t sleep. She spent the last of the moonlit hours sat on her bed, staring blankly at the dark mark on her skin. As dawn broke she saw her knuckles consumed by its plague and as daylight poured across the land her mind was finally set. Tomorrow night, once the party had ended and Layla was guaranteed the safety of her fiancée’s arms, she would make her way out of the castle. Somewhere on this Earth was a weapon powerful enough to destroy the demon inside of her and even though she knew it would cost her her life, she knew no other option. If the Fueroc consumed her then it would be free to roam destruction on her Kingdom. The people’s lives would be put in danger and that was something she could not allow to happen.

Rising from her bed, she greeted the rising sun with weary eyes. Her ivory wings – called forth by the breaking dawn – wrapped around her, protecting her from the bitter wind that the evening’s storm had left behind. This was it. By the next sunrise she would no longer be this Kingdom’s heir. Her life, no void and meaningless, would have been cast aside. There would be nothing for her save for the feat she had to accomplish. He only joy life could bring her now, was a quicker death than the one the fates had planned for her.

Gazing across the Kingdom she watched the morning spread. She saw the farmers tending to the fields and the women making their way to market. Just below her feet the servants would be preparing for that evening’s ball. No doubt the chef’s were already busy preparing the feast. In a few minutes one of the maid’s would come and the day-long ritual of preparation would begin. Hours of poking and prodding, of hair and make-up and dressing would finally result in the biggest ball the Kingdom had seen in decades. Every noble-blooded family on Earth would be there and all so she could find herself a husband. It was a privilege none of them would have, and if they knew the truth, a privilege none of them would want.

There was a knock at her door. “Lady Surai, they’re waiting for you downstairs.”

With a heavy sigh, she wrapped a fresh bandage around her arm and gazed once more at the empty sky. It was amazing to her, how such a wild and destructive night could leave such simple beauty in its wake. If only such a thing were true for everything.

There was another knock. “Lady Surai?”

“Yes, yes, I’m coming,” she called back. She crossed the room with all the grace and splendour a princess should possess and opened the door to reveal Layla’s young maid. She was a pretty woman yet one destined for a life of servitude. It was terrible shame but it was how society worked. A man was only as useful as the gold he kept. It was how the world had always been and how it was always destined to be.

“My Lady was worried about you. She sent me to make sure you were alright.”

“I felt like enjoying the morning. It is nice to have a bit of peace before they chaos begins.”

“A necessary chaos no doubt. You do not find a husband without a little mayhem beforehand.”

“So I have heard.”

The young maid smiled. “Well then, are you ready to begin Lady Surai?”

“Of course,” a thin smiled crossed Surai’s face and she added, with a tone that greatly mimicked that of her mother’s, “you know how much I absolutely adore the circus.”

The maid laughed. She had grown used to Surai’s humour through the time she had spent with Layla. “Then we’d best not keep them waiting.” She turned from Surai and together they made their way down to the dinning room where breakfast, and the day’s madness, was waiting to begin.

[eevee-shayna]

As Sam said, we have begun our newest endevor. You can refer here for the trailer and a few pictures:
http://www.pokemasters.net/forums/sh...ad.php?t=15277

I plan on throwing picture in of this fic. Hopefully for each chapter.

[Mew Trainer Rose]

Yay, I've been looking forward to this! Good start so far; I see you wasted no time in getting to the problem of the story. It promises to be an epic quest indeed, though I'm wondering if Layla will find out and cancel the wedding to travel with her sister. What an uproar that would cause, eh?

[darktyranitar]

Ah, so the project came sooner than I thought...

This is a good and a promising starting. One thing that I liked was the description; it was well done, and I really like it.

And it was nice to provide us those drawing. I don't think other- if not, many- does that. Nice drawing, eevee.

Replying this near 3 in the morning... I should sleep now.

[eevee-shayna]

Thank you for commenting DT (and sis)! It's good to get feedback. Sam and were just saying that we hoped some of our K & K fans would follow us into this project.

We started brainstorming for this fic before the last was finished.

[eevee-shayna]

Chapter 2


A young woman with short ebony hair smothered by a knit cap raced down the hall. Holding the folds of her crimson skirt in her fair hands she hurried to a large set of wooden doors. After rapping her knuckles against the hard wood twice she permitted herself entrance.

“Suri!” she squealed excitedly.

The twin who occupied the room answered without looking up.

“Hello Layla,” she said passively.

“Oh, I expected as much,” Layla said with a huff. Surai turned to face her sister.

“I’ve dressed for the ball tonight. Is there anything I’ve forgotten?” Surai questioned.

“Yes, you’ve forgotten to dress like a girl. You know I love you Suri, but you need to be dressed special for tonight. No, this won’t do. Morra, could you bring the dress I laid out on my window chair?” Layla’s young maid stepped shyly from the door.

“Yes, Lady Layla,” she said politely. With a dainty curtsey she excused herself on account of the errand.

Meanwhile, Surai looked down at her chosen attire. She wore a white ruffled shirt with a blue and gold laced vest over it. Her trousers were freshly ironed and tailored to fit her. And her belt was made from the finest leather and had a golden buckle. She even wore a gaudy blue bracelet on her wrist - an accessory she was sure to include. Was this not royal dress?

“Let’s get you out of this,” Layla said as she worked on unbuttoning the vest.

“This is how I always dress. It’s always been suitable before,” Surai protested.

“Ah, but this is a special occasion. We’re trying to find you a husband today so you must look your best,” Layla said firmly.

Surai gave in and allowed her sister to undress her. When Morra returned Layla quickly fit her sister into the dress.

“This is one of your dresses!” Surai exclaimed as Layla tied a bow around her twin’s waist.

“Of course! You don’t even own any dresses, Suri.”

“I do! At least, I have two or three somewhere,” Surai retorted.

Layla chuckled, “You haven’t worn those since your cotillion. Come on, this looks fine on you. Here, carry this parasol. And let me put some ribbons in your hair. If you don’t pick a husband tonight I shall consider it my fault.”

As Layla finished tying blue ribbons in her twin’s hair she stood back. Surai now wore a ruffled light blue dress that began past the shoulders, with a dark blue bow on the top and a matching sash around her waist.

“You’re gorgeous Suri!” Layle gasped happily. But then she noticed the clunky bracelet.

“Maybe we could take that off-”

“No!” Surai said with a little too much force. Quickly she recovered, “I mean, I thought that some jewellery would be appropriate. You chose the dress, so may I chose the jewellery?”

“I suppose it matches,” the ebony twin said after some thought.

“Excuse my interruption, but the princesses are needed in the main ball room,” Morra announced politely.

“Oh dear!” Layla said with panic, “It seems that it might be my fault already that you’ll miss out on a husband!” She pulled the two locks of hair that framed her cheeks behind her ears as a nervous habit and held up the cloth of her skirt as she shuffled to the door. Morra began to lead the way down the hall, but Layla noticed that she was not being followed. She turned toward the room to see Surai rubbing the bracelet.

“Is something wrong?” Layla asked.

Surai put on a smile. “Nothing. Just adjusting it. Let’s go.”

Layla playfully linked arms with her sister and they walked down the grand steps together.

“Princess Surai and Princess Layla,” announced a loud voice as they descended. A thunderous applause bellowed through the room. The twins crossed the great hall and followed a decorative rug to the King and Queen who sat on their thrones. The girls curtsied to their parents as tradition entailed.

“A little late,” their father whispered, with a royal smile still plastered on his face for his subjects to see.

“Excuse our tardiness. I needed to change Suri’s dress. You should have seen what she was planning on wearing,” Layla whispered, using the same trick.

“I can only imagine,” their mother said quietly, though she needn’t whisper. Her voice was soft from her ailments. The family smiled and shared a secret laugh, until the queen began to cough. She held the arm of her chair firmly and brought a handkerchief to her mouth. The daughters shared a worried glance and Surai asked, “Mother, should you be out of bed?”

The Queen waved off the question and said between coughs, “This is an important occasion. I will see both my daughters engaged.” The Queen’s maids came rushing over and handed her some tea. The tea eventually soothed her throat and the coughing fit ceased.

From within the tense moment, Layla said, “Mother, you look so beautiful tonight. I haven’t seen you in this dress before, it suits you well.”

Smiles once again returned as if Layla had spoken magic words.

The King stood and faced his audience. Immediately the room hushed and the princesses moved to the side.

“Today, all the princes and noble families of the surrounding kingdoms have been gathered here for a special occasion. My daughters, Princess Surai and Princess Layla, have come of age for marriage. It is a custom of our kingdom that if my heirs have not chosen a suitor for themselves at this age then she will be presented all the available suitors and chose one. My daughter, Layla, has already found a suitable match. However, Surai has not yet chosen. May I present to you, Princess Surai!”

The young woman stepped forward and was met by another applause. With a mighty clap from the King the ceremony commenced.

“Go get ‘em,” Layla said reassuringly to her twin.

As Surai became engulfed by the crowd, Layla wondered off to pay her respects to the royal families. In her ladylike manor she curtsied to every King and Queen she came by. They chatted politely and soon she went on her way to greet another. She had drawn halfway around the room when she bumped into a familiar face.

“Always the perfect hostess,” said a rich male voice.

“Sir Charles!” she gasped. She curtsied politely and offered her hand which was promptly kissed.

“Lady Layla, you look elegant tonight. And your dress matches your wings so stunningly.”

“You flatter me,” Layla said with a smile.

“Come to the balcony with me, I have something for you,” Charles said gently. The young lady glanced quickly at her public.

Reading her mind the prince added, “They won’t mind if I borrow you for a moment. This party is for your sister, after all.”

“I suppose you’re right. I already have you,” Layla said, batting her dark eyes.

Charles offered his arm in a gentile manor, which the Princess accepted, and he led her toward grand glass doors. He pushed the door open for her and she daintily left his arm to step through the open doorway. Outside the night was pitch black –not even the moon or one star speck inhabited the sky. Lanterns had been lit all across the palace grounds and illuminated the ground below. Over the stone railing Laya overlooked the royal garden. Rose vines crept up the stone building and climbed past the balcony she stood on. However, all the beautiful rose blooms had washed away from the weeks of violent weather. It was the first time in many nights that the sky wasn’t pouring buckets of rain upon the kingdom.

A chilly breezy swept by and Layla interrupted her sightseeing to hug her shivering arms. Unasked, Charles placed his coat over her shoulders, still warm from his body heat. The Princess looked up at her betrothed and smiled thankfully. Even in the dark night she could see his golden hair and bright eyes. He stood a head taller then her and looked down like a ray of sunshine. Even his wings looked as if they were made up of golden feathers.

“I brought you this, Lady Layla,” he said as he pulled out a velvet covered box from his pocket. He opened the box before her and let her pull out the prize. On a golden chain hung a large ruby embedded in golden wings. Layla stroked her fingertips over the smooth stone and gold.

“It’s beautiful!” Layla exclaimed giddily.

“I’m glad you like it. Here, let me put it on.”

Layla held her hair out of the way as he fastened the necklace upon her neck. Her heart skipped a beat as his hands touched her skin.

She turned her head when the necklace was secured.

“Thank you, Charles,” she said with a genuine smile upon her cerise lips.

“Anything to see that little-girl smile on your face,” he said.

He leaned down and before either of them knew what was happening there was no more space between their lips. Layla’s eyes slowly closed and the chilly night air no longer reached her.

In an instance, something felt wrong. A chilling feeling trickled through the Princess’s body and she immediately pulled away. For at that moment, during her first kiss, a blood curdling scream had sounded form within the palace.




http://www.deviantart.com/deviation/45476851/

[Samchu]

And here is part B of chapter 2

Surai's Side

The crowd had taken to Surai the way a shark takes to blood, swarming about her until she was engulfed by a sea of heaving bodies. All around her there were Kings and Queens, each of them proudly presenting their primed and proper sons. She did as society commanded; smiling at each of them in turn and offering her hand to those who asked for it. Yet throughout it all she maintained a faint detachment from her guests. What was the point in picking a suitor she didn’t love or promising her heart to a man she wouldn’t see again? She knew her fate, and she would have no one else apart of it.

“For the guest of honour, you’re certainly not what they would call the life of the party.”

She turned to face the young man who had addressed her. He was smartly dressed though his attire was simple and – to an extent – somewhat crude; yet his meagre appearance was greatly overshadowed by the pureness of his face and gentility of his eyes. Had she known any better, Surai may have considered him to be cute, handsome even, but he was of royal blood and you would find few who did not possess even the slightest hint of beauty. Even Surai herself, despite hiding behind her less than complimenting attire, could be considered beautiful.

“And who are you to question the means by which I present myself?”

“My apologies,” he bowed, “my name is Churo, I present myself on behalf of the kingdom of Fe~her.”

Surai returned his gesture. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Churo of Fe~her.”

“I must apologise again for my rudeness. You were not what I expected.”

“I rarely am.”

A warm smile caressed his soft lips. “I had heard you were, shall we say, ‘feistier’ than most.”

“Being ‘feisty’ does not win one a husband.”

“Last time I checked you were not the type to be looking for a husband.”

“Then I am afraid that you have been gravely misinformed.” She was beginning to discover how great an effect this man’s presence was having on her emotions. Though she welcomed the opportunity to engage in such an amusing battle of wit and words, the nagging pain of the curse she carried was forever weighing down upon her mind, and Churo’s attempts to understand were only adding to her frustrations. “My family is bound by law to marry before taking the throne.”

“It would appear that my servants have failed me. I will have them dealt with at once as punishment.” He smiled at her again to show that he was joking even though his tone more than exposed his intent.

“I hope for your sake that nothing ever comes of your jest.” She curtsied to him faintly, just enough to keep the standards of civility intact. “Now if you will please excuse me, I still have many guests that require my attention.”

“Of course,” he completed his bow of farewell and disappeared into the crowd. To an extent she had been surprised to see him go, he was clearly the type of man who possessed more than a fair share of impudence and she had been half expecting him to try and find an excuse to prolong their conversation. However, there was no time to dawdle on idle thoughts of a man she barely knew for no sooner had he left her company than she was approached by yet another hopeful bachelor. His company was much less amusing and she was thankful – if not concerned – by her mother’s swift departure to the upper bed chambers. At the very least it gave her an excuse to escape this mindless chaos.

Safely hidden in the shadows beside her mother’s bedroom, Surai listened as her parents spoke with her mother’s doctor.

“Your condition is progressing much faster than we anticipated,” the doctor explained. “It would be unwise for you to leave this bed again; too much strain will only contribute to the disease.”

“How long do you think she has left?”

“A few days at best.”

“And there’s nothing that we can do?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“Thank you doctor.”

Surai sank deeper into the shadows, fighting back the tears that threatened to overwhelm her. She heard the doctor take his leave and the hushed footsteps of her father as he paced the room, his mind as lost and tangled as her own.

“Do we tell them?”

“No, we must go on as if nothing has changed.” A fit of coughing burst from the bedchamber, each laboured breath tearing at Surai’s heart like fire.

“Here…” she knew her father was offering her the tea on her bedside. The doctor had brewed it to help subdue the pain of the illness but as time had worn on it had begun to grow increasingly ineffective. Its only use now was as balm to sooth the violent spurts of coughing. “I’ll go and fetch some more tea, try and get some rest.” She watched her father make his way towards the kitchens as she fought within herself for the strength to face her mother. Knowing now that her mother lay at the foot of death’s door, the very least she could do was grant her a last farewell.

Taking a breath for luck, Surai turned from the shadows and quietly made her way inside. She did not wish to attract any unwanted attention from the servants who would undoubtedly be taking care of the nearby rooms. She took the seat from her mother’s dresser and drew it up to her bedside so that she could lean on the covers beside her. The pain on her mother’s face was unbearable and a stream of moments flew past before she had the courage to face her. Surai took her mother’s hand in her own and brushed the locks of hair from her face until she looked at her, frowning with concern.

“You should be downstairs.”

“I was worried about you,” Surai insisted, determined not to force her mother to say more than she was capable of. “I will go back to the party as soon as I know you are alright.”

Her mother smiled at her faintly and nodded; content to let her daughter linger by her bedside a little longer. Despite the pressing need for engagement, knowing how little of her life was left filled her with a deep and desperate desire to spend as many of her final hours as she could in the company of her children. They sat hand-in-hand in silence; one basking in the warmth of this company whilst the other struggled to find the words that would explain the terrible reality that was to follow the evening’s festivities.

“Mother…I…” But she couldn’t bring herself to finish her confession. Just one look at her mother’s pallid face turned the words to ash and they sat, hot and bitter on her tongue, refusing to come out. “I think that you must let me fluff your pillow for you, it is far too flat.” Surai carefully lifted her mother’s head and slid the pillow from beneath her. She paced the room, pounding the soft cushion as she wished to pound herself for her weakness. All the things she had accomplished in her lifetime, all the graces her status had granted her and she could do nothing to ease her mother’s suffering. But the pain this realisation cause paled in comparison to the overhanging truth that as her mother’s life drew to a close she, as her firstborn, would only succeed in breaking her heart. It wasn’t fair. Her mother had once possessed a grace and beauty unparalleled by any other but what was she now? A living corpse. A barren oak stripped of all its glory. That her life should end this way was an insult to everything she had done for their people.

As she drew once again to her mother’s bedside, Surai was struck with a thought that chilled her bones to the core. There was one thing she could do; one way she could ease her mother’s suffering. Her grip tightened on the pillow as she lifted it silently above her mother’s face. A voice in the back of her mind screamed at her, begging her to stop this madness, but she could no longer control herself. Her arms fixed in place and she pressed the pillow into her mother’s face and held it there.

She barely struggled, too weakened by the disease to do any more than disturb the blanket that kept her wrapped in place. Surai closed her eyes, refusing to watch her mother die at her hands. Ice-like tears stroked her hand as she whispered a thousand apologies to the dying Queen. Murdering her was the last thing Surai would have wanted but now that it had begun, she was powerless to stop it.

“Surai, no!”

A pot of tea crashed to the floor, spilling the warm liquid across the velvet carpet and staining it a sickening shade of brown. Surai’s father bolted across the room, throwing her from her mother’s side with such force that the wall trembled. The grand mirror that stood on the desk stumbled and fell, smashing to pieces beside her. She sank to the floor, sobbing into the pillow as her father desperately called out to his wife. He was too late to save her. She had crossed over to far to come back now. Defeated, he knelt at the feet of his daughter and confronted her.

“What have you done?”

Between heavy sobs he barely heard her words. “I tried to stop it, I tried so hard but I couldn’t stop it.”

“It’s ok. Everything’s going to be alright.”

Surai felt his arms wrap around her and the fatherly warmth that only he possessed began to fill her. That he would hold her like this, the way he had always held her, even though she had done such a terrible act; it only proved how foolish he was. A moment later she felt his body stiffen against her own, his choking breaths echoing in her ear. His blood trickled onto her fingertips as it ran down the shard of glass that had so easily pierced his chest. Grinning with satisfaction, she twisted it deeper and pushed him away from her, forcing him back to where his departed lay. He could do nothing but stare at her, his eyes wide and alive with fear. Just one look from her, one hateful firey gaze, and he knew at once the darkness that had been unleashed upon his Kingdom. It was a knowledge destined to follow him to the grave.

Without a word, Surai made her way out into the corridor and towards the balcony overlooking the palace gardens. Below she could see her sister and her suitor, the man she had chosen to take her out of Surai’s life. Her hand tightened around the banister beside her as she watched him place his claim on Layla. Even in the darkness she could see the red that flashed across her sister’s cheeks. It sickened her. They stared at one another in the darkness until she could no longer separate their forms. He had his arms around her, holding her body against his as their lips met. Surai felt the marble crumbling in her grasp. He didn’t deserve to take Layla’s kiss or to hold her so lovingly in his arms. He couldn’t protect her the way she had protected her or keep the secrets she had helped her to keep. He could never replace her. Surai would make sure he couldn’t.

Their moment was destroyed by a scream from the Queen’s bedroom but Surai refused to tear her gaze from Charles and once Layla had gone back inside to see what had happened, she made her move. The rose-less vines provided the easiest route to her victim as he lingered on the balcony awaiting Layla’s return. It was the simplest of tasks, plucking his dagger from his belt, even easier though, was driving it through his heart. He didn’t have time to put up a resistance and the guests inside were too distracted by the news of the deaths to look outside. Surai pulled him towards her, just close enough so that she whisper a final message to him: “No one will ever take my sister from me.”

She had barely managed to climb back onto her own balcony when Layla rushed outside to tell her fiancée the terrible news and found him stone dead on the floor. Her sister’s screams tore into her but there was a sickening joy in the sound. Surai knew what her actions had done, they had granted the two of them a few more precious weeks together. With no parents to force their engagements they could hold off the ceremonies until the end, and then Layla could lead their people as she wished and not as law commanded.

She lifted the dagger, its blade still stained with the blood of its victim. Layla would come looking for her next, she knew her sister well enough to predict her actions, and she would need to find excuse for her absence. To be found unscathed would only make them suspicious of her and so she sought to present herself with the most perfect of alibis. She drew the blade across her cheek until she felt the warmth of blood on her neck and then set about tearing her dress so that it appeared battle worn. She adorned her skin with rows of cuts and slashes, like strings oozing with blood, and then focused on the deepest of her wounds. Starting at the top of her left breast, she pulled the blade towards the edge of her stomach, tearing through both flesh and fabric with ease until the dress was stained with blood. It was deep enough to cause a great deal of pain but not so deep that it would kill her. She was creating an excuse, not a suicide.

Her task complete, she threw Charles’ blade out into the garden, where it slept, buried in the Earth. The pain of her wounds had begun to overwhelm her and she let her body slip to the floor where it lay waiting in silence. Along the corridor she heard the echo of footsteps as Layla rushed to find her. None of the servants had come so far as to discover her faint silhouette in the darkness but Layla would, she knew that Layla would. Lying her head against the flattened stone she could feel the darkness within her retreating once more to the dark crevices of her mind. The raging fires that had burned behind her eyes extinguished and she found herself overcome with the gentle numbness of sleep.

[Mew Trainer Rose]

Wow. Surai's half of the story is already much darker than her sister's. It appears the demon has already taken hold of her in some way.

And regarding my previoue comment, it appears there is no need to cancel the wedding anymore, and a far greater uproar has been caused. I suppose the silver lining to this cloud is that Layla will never know how close to death her mother was.

[eevee-shayna]

And now, Chapter 3.

Chapter 3

Dead. Dead. Dead? No, it couldn’t be. Just a moment ago they had been talking. Just a moment ago her biggest concern was her sister’s marriage. Just a moment ago everyone had been smiling their fake royal smiles and conversing about the weather. How had the moment changed so quickly?

Layla fumbled up the stairs, running as fast as she could. The crimson cloth tangled around her frantic legs and she stumbled. She instinctly held her arm out as she fell and a sharp pain stung through her wrist. A sob leapt from her throat and tears streaked her face. The Princess whipped her free arm across her face, but instead of cleaning off the tears she managed to smear her fiancé’s fresh blood across her face. Another sob caught in her throat as she dragged herself up. Layla clutched her dress so tight that her knuckles turned white as she continued to run up the grand stairs. On the second floor she ran so clumsily that a handful of ebony feathers flaked off as she tore past the ornamental swords and suits of armour that lined the hall. She turned a corner and headed to a hard wooden door engraved with the letter “S”.

But several doors before her destiny Layla came across a bundle of blue and blood on the carpet. Instantly recognizing the form, Layla fell to her knees and turned the girl over onto her back.

“Suri!” she screamed in a hoarse, sob-filled shriek. Fresh tears glazed over Layla’s red, puffy face.

“No Suri, not you too!” she sputtered.

The Princess pulled the hair out of her sister’s face --- hair that still held crumpled blue ribbons --- and she looked closely for any sign of life. Layla’s heart pounded in her chest as if it wanted to be let out in that eternal moment before she noticed Surai’s chest rising and falling ever so slightly. Layla gasped out a sigh of relief.

“You’re still alive. I can feel it. You’re barely there, but you’re still alive,” Layla whispered.

Holding her head up, Layla yelled with her sore voice as loud as she could.

“Help! Anyone, please come and help!” her royal voice was known by all the palace’s staff and it was not long before handmaids, knights, and advisors came running to her voice.

“Thank goodness, they didn’t get you!” someone yelled as he rushed to the Princess.

“Suri!” Was all Layla could utter. Immediately the wounded twin was placed on a stretcher and carried off to her room. Layla held her sister’s limp hand as the nurses cleaned the wounds and bandaged them. If Layla’s dress had not been red, then it would have been by the time they had finished bandaging her sister. Blood was everywhere and the nurses were afraid that Surai had lost too much.

“She needs to rest now,” the nurses at last said.

“Suri!”

“You need to leave her to rest.” They pulled Layla from the bedside.

“Suri!”

“You must leave the room now, Princess.” Further and further they pulled her from the mummied form.

“Suri!” Her last shout was full of panic and terror. She had been pushed back into the hall and the wooden doors --- engraved with “S” --- were shut in front of her. Layla banged her fists against the door like a wild woman. Her wrist felt on fire from the abuse, but she ignored it. When she ran out of energy she collapsed onto the floor and bawled uncontrollably.

It all came to her then. Her parents, the King and Queen, were dead. Charles was dead. She was shut off from her sister, who was on the verge of death. And she was all alone. Never in her life had she felt so abandoned. What was she supposed to do? What could she do?

Looking up Layla noticed that she had drawn a crowd of palace staff. They looked at her with horror. Yet they also looked upon her as lambs who wanted to be told what to do. The King and Queen had been murdered. She was the next in line to lead.

Layla rose on unstable legs. Several maids tried to help her up, but she pushed them away. Unable to lift her head, Layla stumbled down the hall. She legs kept refusing to work, causing the young woman to trip several times, but she kept walking down the hall. Past the blood stain on the carpet from her sister. Past the ornamental swords and suits of armour that still held her blood and feathers. Down the stairs and past the place where she had fallen – which was marked by her knit cap that must have fallen off.

In the ballroom the Kings, Queens, and Suitors of foreign Kingdoms were in an uproar. Chaos caused them to scream and run in panic. Layla was bumped into many times by frantic royalty as she made her way to the thrown. In front of her father’s chair she turned to face the mob.

“Listen!” she yelled, still unable to left her head. Some paused, but the rest were still as panicked as a colony of ants in an uprooted anthill.

“Listen!” Layla shouted in a blood curdling cry.

They stopped.

After taking a moment to catch her breath, the black winged woman spoke. “The King and Queen of my Kingdom. Dead. The Prince of Flior, my fiancé. Dead. Princess Surai-” gasps filled the room, but Layla silenced them with a raise of her hand. She finished “Critically injured. Someone has sabotaged this royal family. I don’t know who, and I don’t know why. But from this moment forward, this Kingdom will consider all of the surrounding kingdoms to be enemies, until I find out who is responsible.”

Layla was being torn apart on the inside by ramped emotions. She didn’t know which to trust, but the unbalanced inner swarm had lead her to the decision she had announced. The ancient royal blood within her had spoken.

She used the rest of her strength to lift her head. In that moment she held her head tall and looked everyone in the eye. They saw her eyes and knew something had begun. When everyone had the message, Layla’s energy was finally drained and she subsided into the thrown behind her and everything went black.

* * *

When Layla awoke, her wings had withdrawn. She felt feverish and weak. Shifting, Layla realized that she was in her own bed and she had been changed into a clean night gown. She slowly pulled her hand up to rub her face and found that her wrist hande been bandaged.

“Don’t move to much, my lady, you’re ill,” came a shy voice.

Layla’s heart skipped and she turned her head to face the voice. Morra. Morra was still there. Layla had lost her family, and had come close to losing her sister, but she hadn’t lost her best friend.

Tears began to trickle down the Princess’s face. Morra hurried to her side and dabbed Layla’s eyes with a handkerchief.

“My poor Lady,” Morra said, “I am so sorry for what has happened to you.” The words were sincere and pure, just like the girl who had spoken them. Morra had been Layla’s handmade for as long as she could remember. Surai also had a handmaid, but being a tomboy she never liked to have things done for her and dismissed the maid. But for Layla, Morra was the only person besides her sister who she could talk to about anything.

Morra read Layla’s face and leaned down to hug the Princess. Even though she was just a commoner by title, the handmaid meant a great deal to Layla. She felt safe and comforted in that hug. She didn’t have to worry about the deaths in her family and the huge burden that had been passed down to her. In that hug she could relax.

Layla’s fever drained the energy quickly from her and soon she had fallen asleep again.

* * *



http://www.deviantart.com/deviation/45760500/
“Suri!” Her last shout was full of panic and terror. She had been pushed back into the hall and the wooden doors --- engraved with “S” --- were shut in front of her. Layla banged her fists against the door like a wild woman. Her wrist felt on fire from the abuse, but she ignored it. When she ran out of energy she collapsed onto the floor and bawled uncontrollably.

[eevee-shayna]

Posting this for Sam. BTW, Pikachu-Sensei, Sam and I are amused by your Most Likely To Be A Couple nominee. Now, onward to more character abuse!


Chapter 4

Inside Surai’s bedchamber, the hours ticked by slowly. Unknown to the maid watching over her, the young princess was fighting a desperate battle, not only for her life, but for her soul. Deep within the hidden chambers of her mind, she sought out the demon that had taken her parents from her. Though she knew she could not defeat it – not by mere will – there was a fire burning within her that only the rush of battle could extinguish.

“Why?” she screamed into the unforgiving darkness, “Why did they have to die?”

Its voice for came to her from everywhere and nowhere. She circled her shadow, trying in vain to seek out the demon. Her blade flashed silver in the dim light. “They died because you asked for it.”

“Liar!” Her eyes were stinging with tears though she had no idea why.

She could hear the low rumble of its growl. The very air around her shook. “You wanted to end your mother’s suffering. You begged the Gods to grant her relief.”

“I begged the Gods! Not you!”

“She suffers no more.”

“It wasn’t meant to be this way! She wasn’t meant to die yet!” The tears were pouring thick and fast. Inside her heart was stirring, wailing through its dull beat. A numb pain pulsated in her chest.

“Death was the only way to end her suffering. Why deny what you know? You wished her to die, you wished her to sleep in peace.”

“But why? Why did she have to die at my hands?”

“Because it was you who wished it and you who could grant that wish. You are the cause of their deaths.”

“They died because of you!”

It laughed at her, a sound that tore a bitter realization into her soul. “You killed your mother to spare her suffering. Murdered your father because you knew he would never forgive you. Then you killed Charles because he would take Layla away from you.” Its cruel voice tormented her again. “You killed them for your own selfish desires.”

“No!”

“Their blood is on your hands, on your conscience.”

Her hands burned. Looking down she could see blood upon her blade, upon her hands. She tried to wipe it away but it was like a scar, forever boring into her skin. She threw her blade from her, screaming once more into the darkness. “It’s not true! It can’t be true!”

She felt warm arms wrap around her. Darkness whirled around her. There was a comfort in it that she had never known before, like a relief she had never experienced. It was like rain, washing away all the guilt, all the pain. It called out to her, calming and inviting. She wanted to go to it, to cast off the web of shame that so tightly bound her. She could feel her body slipping, disappearing into the darkness. Surai closed her eyes, letting the numbing feeling wash over her until she felt nothing but emptiness. She would give anything to make this feeling last, her mind, her body, even her soul. Just to make the pain stop, just to wipe the memories that would forever haunt her.

“Suri!”

She opened a weary eye. A figure hovered in the distance, bathed in light. It reached out to her, its wings brimming with colour. “Layla?”

“Suri! Suri you have to come back!”

She thought back some of the darkness that held her. It wrapped around her wrists, dragging her back into its depths. “Let me go to my sister,” she demanded through gritted teeth. Slowly, very slowly, she clawed her way over to the angelic figure of her sister. The darkness tightened its hold on her, desperate to keep her. She yanked a hand free and reached out to her sister. Their fingers brushed for a moment. Surai clawed frantically at the space between them, fighting with all her strength. At last her hand caught Layla’s and with a terrible scream the darkness receded.

The darkness was suddenly replaced by a warming light. Surai looked at her sister who bore that adorable child-like smile of hers. “Why must you always do things by yourself?”

“I have my reasons,” Surai replied, distance in her voice.

“Suri…” Layla trapped her gaze and held on to it, tightly. “You have to trust me. I’m not a child, not anymore.”

“But you are my little sister.”

She giggled. “Barely.”

“It’s the truth, regardless of the fact that it is mere moments that separate us.” She sighed, a deep, heart-filled sigh. “I’m supposed to protect you.”

“And who will protect you?”

Surai pulled her eyes from Layla’s gaze. “I should wake up…”

“Only if you come see me after,” Layla replied, a sly grin stretched across her face.

“You know I will…”

Layla’s face was suddenly serious. “Suri? You’ll tell me what’s wrong, won’t you? In your own time, you’ll tell me what it is that troubles you?”

“In my own time,” she had no intention of telling Layla anything. She did not need to be burdened with her troubles and Surai had no desire to tell her sister anything that would turn her against her, for that was what she had decided would happen if Layla ever was to find out what had happened that night. Of the terrible deaths she had wrought with her own two hands. “Looks like it’s time for me to go…”

Slowly, Layla’s angelic form faded into the distance and Surai awakened to see the dimly lit ceiling of her bedchamber hovering above her. With a gentle sigh she turned her head around to look at the sleeping form of the chambermaid beside her. The poor woman had been ordered to stay by the princess’ bedside until she awakened but the past few days had been tiring on all those involved. After the evening’s end, Hayden had been entrusted with charge of the palace. He had sent the nobles back to their kingdoms and an investigation had been carried out to try and seek out the men responsible for the murders of the King, the Queen, and the young prince Charles. Soldiers had roamed the streets like packs of wolves but all they uncovered were rumours and stories, no suspects were ever caught. The princess’ had remained under the care of the servants; with Surai in such a critical condition and Layla stricken with fever there was nothing to do but help them through their treacherous trials, only the Gods knew the hardships that awaited them.

Wrapping her wings about her, Surai carefully rose from her bed and checked the bandaging on her wounds. So little of her skin remained visible beneath the yards of material but she was thankful to find that her dark secret still remained hidden beneath the large bracelet she adorned for the party. Surai silently replaced the bandages about her frame and dressed in a pair of fresh clothes. She had no intention of lingering in the palace for long, there were things to be taken care of – her promise to see Layla, for instance – but then she would depart. Her actions that fateful night were a bitter reminder of the demon’s deathly grip upon her and she wished to be rid of it before she did harm to anyone else – or worse, to Layla.

Checking that the hallway was clear, Surai snuck across to the room where her sister lay, sleeping. Her fever had broken during the night and so there was no need to keep her under watch and she had been left to sleep off the last of its influences. A fact Surai was thankful for. She ducked inside and made her way over to Layla’s bedside, sitting with her as she had sat with their mother just a few days before. Taking her twin’s hand in her own, Surai placed her gentle kiss on Layla’s forehead, smiling as her eyes slowly opened to reveal beautiful hazy pupils.

“Hey you,” the older twin whispered, running a hand through her sister’s hair.


“Suri…” her eyes widened and she shot up suddenly. The pain hit her like a brick wall and she fell back onto the bed, wheezing slightly. She hadn’t realized how weak the fever had left her and she was only just beginning to recover. “You should be resting.”

“So should you. You’ve been ill,” she commented, having only just realized the fact herself. It had escaped her attention during her hours of unconsciousness.

“They said it was the stress. The stress of seeing them all…” her voice broke and pools of water began to form beneath her eyes, running in streams down her cheeks. Surai’s heart cried out to her but she knew there was nothing that she could do. She grabbed a handkerchief from the bedside and handed it to Layla, patting her hand as she wiped her shimmering crystal-like eyes. “I thought I’d lost you too. For a moment I thought…” the tears overwhelmed her once more and she buried her eyes in her handkerchief.

“You won’t lose me, not yet,” she told her comfortingly, knowing full well the demon would not let her die unless she forced it to and that was not a feat she could accomplish with a mortal blade. A look of seriousness crossed Surai’s face. “Layla…I think…I think that I must go away for some time.”

“What?” Layla’s face was laced with concern.

“I need to get away from here. Just for a little while. There is too much death here; I need to get away from it.”

“You can’t leave. The people here need you. Besides…” a flicker of something – Surai wasn’t sure what – crossed Layla’s cheeks. “I declared war on the neighboring kingdoms. You won’t be able to cross the borders.”

“Then I’ll go to the distant kingdoms, I’ll go where no one knows who we are or what has happened here. I’ll hide my wings; I’ll disappear, just for a little while. Just long enough to…” she stopped herself before she could reveal anything more than she wanted, but she still needed to give Layla an answer. “Long enough to straighten my head out.”

Layla shot up again, only this time with enough strength to hold herself upright. “You must take me with you.”

“Layla –“

“You are not going without me! If you go, I go!”

“Layla…” the strength of her sister’s voice astonished her.

“I do not wish to stay here, not with so much misery hanging over this palace and especially not with…not with this rift that hangs between us. I fear it will divide us and with us, our kingdom.” She held her sister’s hands in her own. “And I believe that if you leave me, we will never regain what we have lost.”

“You’re not coming with me,” Surai retorted.

“You won’t stop me.” Layla was being stubborn, a trait she had not used for a long time. Surai knew that no matter how hard she tried, she would not be able to persuade Layla to stay behind.

“There is no dealing with you like this,” she said, sighing with defeat. “I will speak to Hayden on the matter and we will leave once you have the strength to do so.”

“What about you?”

“You…” she flicked her sister’s nose playfully, “should worry about yourself for a change. I will recover soon enough and I am more than capable of travel. You on the other hand, are weak from your fever and need rest. Sleep, I will not leave without you.” It was the truth, though she regretted it deeply.

Content that her sister would comply with her wishes, Surai left Layla’s side in order to seek out Hayden. The servants stared at her as though she was a corpse brought to life but they had no idea of the inner strength the demon had granted her with. They led her to Hayden, too afraid to speak their worries aloud. She was thankful when they eventually took their leave of her, their presence alone unnerved her.

“My dear, is it wise for you to be about so soon?” Hayden was anxious to offer her a seat, which she refused with all politeness.

“My health is not an issue at this point. Please, tell me of this war that my sister has declared.”

“Yes…” his face was suddenly full of grimace and pride, “I would have never thought she had it in her to take such action. Perhaps the royal blood in her is stronger than we expected.” He led Surai across the room to a map hoisted up against a wall. To the south-west was Kayan – their kingdom – with the Sea of Corum to its south. Around it were the kingdoms of Shraun, To-um, Geiln, and Fe~her; once their allies, now their enemies. A ring of blue dots symbolized the Kayan army, currently stationed around the border of the kingdom, the red dots were those of enemy troops, stationed in a similar pattern around their respective kingdoms.

“Have there been any skirmishes yet?”

“Not yet, though tension grows between the ranks each day. I fear one will come, and soon.”

Surai was thoughtful for a moment. “My sister has acted rashly and I fear no resolve will come soon.” She paced the room, rubbing her temple in thought. “Hayden, send orders to the men, tell them not to attack, only to defend our kingdom, no one is to go in or out until this matter is resolved.” She would resolve it soon enough. If Layla was going to insist on coming with her then she would confess the truth to her as her hours ended. She did not want to live with her sister’s scorn. “I want you to conduct peace talks with their leaders. The last thing this kingdom needs on top of this sadness is an open war, the least bloodshed there is the better.”

“What shall I say?”

“Tell them that our kingdom is angered by the death of its leaders and will not rest until the criminals are caught – no doubt Charles’ kingdom takes the same view. You are ordered, however, to make it clear to them that we do not accuse them of this treacherous act and that in order to protect the last of our royal bloodline we cannot afford to take any chances. Hopefully, they will accept this and this ‘war’ will never become anything more than a fruitless stand-off between our legions.”

“As you wish,” he bowed. “But may I ask; why do you want me to lead the peace talks? Surely you, as our chosen heir, should handle that responsibility.”

“I am going away,” she confessed quietly. “After what has happened I fear that I must leave this place if I am to adequately prepare for my fate. Also…” she paused briefly, her gaze longingly drifting across the map stretched out before her, “I wish to see the world Hayden. Everything I know exists behind these borders, how can I live in contentment if I know not what the world is like?”

“The world is a dangerous place.”

“Perhaps, but is it also not a wonderful one? I would like to see it, some of it, before my time is through.”

He gave a short laugh. “Princess, you speak of death as though it has called its claim on you already.”

“In its own way it has,” she murmured, though she was quick to dismiss the comment when Hayden pressured her. “I assume the preparations for my parents’ funeral are almost complete?” She threw the question out before he could question her further.

“If you are both fit it will take place tomorrow. Their ‘stones have been prepared and the bodies are ready for their journey. We had to act; the people were becoming restless.”

“I can imagine…” She let an empty thought cross her mind then turned back to Hayden once more. “The ceremony will take place tomorrow. In the meantime, I want you to prepare a boat for Layla and myself to take us to the eastern kingdom of Paur. Recruit only the men needed to man the vessel – and it will be a simple one. No servants will accompany us save for Layla’s chambermaid, Morra. She can be trusted and I suspect Layla will want the chance to bid her a proper farewell. She will return with the boat so that you know we have arrived safely. You will not hear of us until our return for I will not have any messengers allowed to enter the city unless they are sufficiently searched and watched throughout the time of their stay. I do not trust anyone at this point and a letter would risk revealing our identities; that is something I cannot allow to happen.” She fixed Hayden with a hardened stare that made his bones uneasy. If he felt something unusual in the princess’ gaze, he made no mention of it. “I assume you can handle all that?”

“Of course, Princess.”

Surai smiled to him. “I should be off. No doubt my ‘guard’ will be worried to find me missing and I am too weary to deal with their fearful concerns. I will see you at the funeral, Hayden.”

The wizened priest watched her go, a twinge of worry in his soft eyes. The presence he had sensed within the princess that night she had returned from the cave felt stronger now than ever and it left a fierce discomfort in his gut. The Gods had offered no advice to him on the matter but their silence had done nothing to ease his concern. He nodded sharply to himself. He would speak with Layla on the matter tomorrow, privately of course. He could not prove that something with her sister was amiss but he could voice his concerns to her, she had always been blessed with a tentative ear and a patient manner. She would hear him out – if only to dismiss his concerns later – but she would listen to his worries nonetheless.

He hoped with all his heart that tomorrow’s sorrows would not cloud the young Princesses’ judgment. Something in the back of his mind was screaming, with as much desperation a pig pulled to the slaughter. Something inside him knew that a terrible force had wormed its way into their lives and if it were to be unleashed…who knew what chaos it could bring to these already torn and distanced lands.


http://www.deviantart.com/deviation/45843722/
Her hands burned. Looking down she could see blood upon her blade, upon her hands. She tried to wipe it away but it was like a scar, forever boring into her skin.

Bit of a joke picture, but I couldn't help myself.

[Sike Saner]

I was already won over from the start by the lovely language employed here, but the moment I read of Layla’s wings, my interest easily tripled. And then it went a step further still when the Fueroc appeared (AWESOME creature) and possessed Surai—I knew without a doubt that this was the kind of story that was right up my alley. ^^

The sisters are good characters; I like the bond they share, especially given the particular complications presented by Surai’s curse and the danger therein. That this curse renders Surai a threat to the one person whom she cares about most makes for some interesting possibilities for the future, that’s for sure. I’m sure ol’ Mr. Demon would just be tickled pink if he could succeed in making Surai harm her sister…however, something gives me the feeling that Layla will not be such easy prey.

Speaking of demon possession and things done as a result, the murder of the King and Queen and Layla’s fiancé was an amazing scene, very much a shock and well-written to boot. Another scene I very much liked was the initial possession itself, the way it was depicted was; when the Fueroc’s claws plunged in and seized Surai’s heart…very cool.

Also, I like that you’ve chosen to include art for this story in this thread. Boss pictures, those. ^^

I look very much forward to more of this story. Excellent work thus far, both of you. ^^

[eevee-shayna]

I had a snowday yesterday, so Chapter 5 is finally writen. Let the madness begin!

Chapter 5
Layla threw open the heavy drapes that concealed the sun from her dreary chamber. She bustled around the room busily in a black hoop-skirt as she nit-picked over her room. Ever since her fever had broken she had insisted on dark clothes for mourning.

She took in a deep breath before exiting her chambers. She looked away from her sister’s blood stain on the carpet. It had been scrubbed several times but a ring, like a water stain, still remained. Every time Layla saw that stain she vividly pictured her sister, draining her life into the ground.

“Suri, you ready?” Layla yelled at her sister’s door and putting on her cheerful voice.

Surai emerged dressed in a black suit. She rubbed her eyes with gloved hands. Layla noticed bags underneath her sister’s eyes. Layla hadn’t seen Surai sleep since she woke up from her coma. Layla took out a compact and kindly dabbed bellow her sister’s eyes. They shared a sorrowful smile and then continued down the hall.


Like a large black cloud the funeral brigade moved slowly in a precession. Only, the rain fell above the instead of below them. A relentless down pour had been storming onto the Kingdom for weeks and would not cease for the royal funeral. Philosophers said that there was not enough water in the skies to produce the violent rains with such endurance. But despite reason, the precipitation would not let up.

Layla grasped Surai’s gloved hand. The sister stiffened, but Layla decided that it was on account of the cold. After a pause Surai tightened her grip in the hand clutch. The twins silently suffered together, but showed no sign of it on their faces.

At the muddy plot the funeral was cut short due to the mercifulness rain and its guest of thunder. The Kingdom’s previous rulers were now just a swell in the ground, with stone tablets to distinguish them from any other hill.

If anyone cried, the weather masked their tears. If anyone mourned, the thunder over rid them. And if anyone was shrouded with madness, then the damp air cloaked that too.

Back in the castle, the cooks had busily prepared the funeral feast. Amongst condolences from the funeral guests, Layla noticed something peculiar.

“Why are there no villagers here? Surely they were invited?”

A royal official replied, “These are dark times Princess, We can’t be too careful.”

Although Layla did not want to separate the royal court from the commoners, it seemed that nothing could be done about it at the present.

When everyone sat down to dine, Surai pointed out something else peculiar.

“Why are none of the foods red or black?”

A cook who was placing a platter down replied, “We can’t be too careful.”

During the meal someone else suggested, “After today I think all the black and red clothes in the castle should be burned.”

“Yes!” agreed someone else, “Black is the color of a crow, which symbolizes death. One who wears the color of death surely may die themselves!”

Yet another added, “And red is the color of blood. Why, even the presence of that color could bring misfortune to the whole kingdom!”

Agreeing murmurs arose around the table. People went so far as to eat around charred spots on their meat.

“It’s as if the rain were made of liquid silver! What has gotten into these people, Suri?” Layla said quietly to her sister.

“Suri?” she repeated after a silent moment.

“What was that?” Surai said dazed. She was pinching the bridge of her nose as if she had a headache. When she looked up at Layla she had moved to rubbing her arm.

“Are you ill, Suri? Maybe you should rest. I haven’t seen you sleep a wink for weeks now,” Layla said with care.

“No!” Surai said with unexpected force. For a moment Layla thought she saw her sister’s pupils turn to thin lines and her irises burn red. The white winged Princess quickly closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose again.

“Perhaps the whole ordeal has made me testy,” Surai said with an adjusted voice. She looked at her twin with caring eyes and Layla was forced to forget what she had seen a moment ago.

“I’ll be alright Layla,” Surai said reassuringly.

The evening carried on fairly normal and the dinner guests dispersed. They soon became busy pointing out every tapestry, carpet, and candle that was red or had a fleck of black. Carpenters, Painters, and Tailors who had been in the trade for three or more generations were called to the palace. The Royal Court decided that only commoners who had been in the trade for multiple generations could be trusted in the palace. Surai and Layla, although the rightful rulers, were powerless to stop the entire staff which seemed controlled by madness.

“M’Lady, come quick!” Morra yelled with panic to Princes Layla. They ran to Layla’s bed chambers, where a hoard of palace staff were digging through her wardrobe.

“Cease this at once! What is the meaning of this?” demanded the Princess. The adults turned to face her and stopped mid-scrounging.

“Pardon, but we must get rid of all black and red objects. This includes your wardrobe, Princess Layla.”

Layla’s face turned the forbidden rosey color. “You have no business in my chambers. Furthermore, you have no business destroying my belongings! My sister and I are the only rulers of this Kingdom and you shall do what we tell you too do! If you don’t want to eat red or black foods, then that is your choice. If you don’t want to wear or touch red or black items, that is also up to you. But you will not tell me what to do or what to wear. Is that understood?”

Silk and lace fell to the floor as the rummages let go of what they held. Despite the madness that had overcome them, they still held the Royal word as their highest value.

“We’re sorry to have displeased you, Princess,” a servant at last said.

“But you can’t be too careful these days,” a laundry washer said.

Layla sighed. “I appreciate you’re concern, but please leave the big decisions up to Surai and myself. If it makes the staff feel less edgy then I will refrain from wearing black and red. But I will wear dark grey for the proper 30 days in mourning for my parents’ deaths. You may go now.”

Like scolded puppies the group left Layla’s chambers.

Morra began to pick up the scattered clothes and said, “I’m sorry Lady Layla. I tried to stop them but-”

“It’s alright, Morra,” Layla said, cutting her off. Layla smiled reassuringly at her friends and they put away the clothes together.

When the room was straightened out, Layla planned to visit her sister’s chambers. As she began to open her chamber doors to leave the room, she felt a tug on the other end. Fury began to surface within her. Was the black and red obsessed staff back again? Hadn’t they understood her words?

“I told you, leave my chamber alone!” Layla bellowed as she threw the door open. Only, she did not find a mob on the other side, but the palace Priest instead.

“I’m sorry Princess, should I go?” he said meekly.

“No no, no that’s alright. Forgive me, I thought it was someone else,” Layla apologized. She motioned for the man to enter.

“Forgive my intrusion, but I was not able to talk to you at the funeral or at dinner,” he said. He left the door open when he entered – fore it was palace policy that if a female has a male guest in their room then the door most remain open, and visa versa – an then he walked to the furthest part of the room. The Priest was a gentleman and won of the only sensible adults within the palace walls at the moment.

“I wanted to talk to you about what has been happening lately, and about your sister,” he said after a hesitation. Layla joined him at the window and Morra politely excused herself.

“Continue,” Layla said with concern.

“Thank you. Maybe it is just me being superstitious, but lately things have not been normal here. Everyone has been acting peculiar. They’ve asked me to bless everything – food, water, anything in this building – or else they are afraid to touch it. Why, just this morning I have had three members of the staff come to me and accuse other members of stealing. I know these people like the back of my hand, and they are all honest, hard working folk. I understand that there must be some excitement over the recent murders and the declaration of war, but it seems to me that they’ve gone mad.

“I’ve tried to talk to your sister about it, but she seems unconcerned with it. Maybe you could talk some sense into her. Maybe you can call off this war and calm down everyone,” the Priest said.

“I was just on my way to her room, actually,” Layla said. “I have the same concerns as you. Something is not right. And I fear for Surai’s health. She always has a headache and has not slept for weeks. Thank you for voicing your concerns. I shall see what I can do.”

Layla curtsied to the Priest and then strode to her twin’s chambers.


“What has come over the staff?” the black winged princess sighed. Surai had her back to her twin and was starring out a window. The rain was thick enough to swim in and all colors had been washed away. The gardens were a pile of mud and the bricks of the palace walls were becoming smooth from erosion.

Surai remained silent as her shoulder-blades began to glow and then elongate. Two appendages sprouted and budded with white feathers. At the same time, Layla could feel her black wings fill with warm light and then contract until the only sign of her glorious feathered extremities were her shoulder-blades upon her bare back.

“The only time I can tell if it’s night or day anymore is when our wings change,” Surai finally said. She reached to stroke her wings and then pinned them tightly against her back.

“Suri, what are we going to do?” Layla asked as she approached her twin. Surai turned from the window and seemed to search for something in he sister’s face. At last she spoke.

“Layla, you are much stronger than I. You would be better at ruling these people. I have thought a lot about what has been happening and I have made up my mind. I can’t stay here any longer. I feel like me being her could jeopardise the Kingdom. I can’t explain it, but I know that it is the right thing to do. Layla, I need to leave this palace, this Kingdom, this land. I need to go far away, as far as all the boats and carriages can take me,” Surai said with passion.

Layla fought to stop the tears from flowing, but the tears won.

“Suri! You can’t go! You can’t leave me! We are always by each other’s side. That’s how it is. I can’t rule a whole Kingdom on my own. I’m not stronger than you. I rely on you. You are the reason why I appear so strong. You can’t abandon me. I need you Suri!”

I peevish smile flickered onto Surai’s face, as if she had expected these words. But she retained her mask and Layla had noticed nothing through her teary eyes.

Surai acted convincingly on her end. “Oh, dearest Layla,” she said as she held her weeping sister in her arms. “You’re right. I don’t think I could part from you. IT wouldn’t be natural. We’re twins. Perhaps, you could come with me.”

The crying girl looked into her sister’s face. “Could we really leave our Kingdom behind? We have a duty.”

Surai wiped the salt water from her twin’s face. “We have a duty to be leaders and to carry on the royal blood. If we stay here then we will surly be murdered. The people are uneasy. It is not safe her any longer.”

Layla nodded in agreement. She was so overcome with emotion that words failed her. But Surai was strong. Surai knew what to do.

“Leave it all to my. I will make the arrangements,” the white winged princes cooed.

Layla held clung to her sister. “I will follow you,” she said helplessly.

[Sike Saner]

Wow, the kingdom has certainly fallen into some serious superstition, confusion, and disarray. o.o But, such certainly makes sense after an event as major and shocking as the murder of the rulers, after all, and so the state of the kingdom following those events was quite well portrayed. ^^

At least Layla managed to avoid getting her wings chopped off due to their being black… o.o I wonder if the people would have dared try it?

I also liked the funeral scene—I always like to read funeral scenes, and I thought that this one was nicely done. ^^

Following are my favorite excerpts from the chapter, parts which I thought were especially lovely and/or well-written:

Like a large black cloud the funeral brigade moved slowly in a precession. Only, the rain fell above the instead of below them.

The Kingdom’s previous rulers were now just a swell in the ground, with stone tablets to distinguish them from any other hill.

If anyone cried, the weather masked their tears. If anyone mourned, the thunder over rid them. And if anyone was shrouded with madness, then the damp air cloaked that too.

[eevee-shayna]

I guess it shows in the funeral scene that i'm an Edgar Allen Poe fan. And I've read "Because I could not stop for Death" by Emily Dickinson too many times.

Thank you for the quick reply and friendly comments. ^_^

[eevee-shayna]

Finally got around to scanning this.


http://www.deviantart.com/deviation/50154341/
Layla grasped Surai’s gloved hand. The sister stiffened, but Layla decided that it was on account of the cold. After a pause Surai tightened her grip in the hand clutch. The twins silently suffered together, but showed no sign of it on their faces.

[Mew Trainer Rose]

Nice drawing, I liked how you used a bit of smudging in the sky to add to the greyness, and the overall gloomy feeling of the picture. And nice touch having Layla's hair covering her eyes; it adds to both the wet atmosphere (the hair looks like it's drooping from the rain) and accents her greif. Though it occurs to me that one of them should have wings.

[eevee-shayna]

Nice drawing, I liked how you used a bit of smudging in the sky to add to the greyness, and the overall gloomy feeling of the picture. And nice touch having Layla's hair covering her eyes; it adds to both the wet atmosphere (the hair looks like it's drooping from the rain) and accents her greif. Though it occurs to me that one of them should have wings.

thanks for the feedback!

The picture is more of the emotion of the moment, not what is actually happen. if i had made the scene as it appears in the story then there would be shapeless people surrounding the princesses and a few caskets. i just wanted to capture the emotion of the moment and the signifficance of the hand clasp. Therefore wings aren't necessary because they aren't important at the moment. plus i think they would crowd the scene.

[Samchu]

Ok I know this has taken forever to be written but here at last is chapter six of our little project. Hope you guys enjoy, it should be the start of an exciting run in this story.

Chapter 6

Surai spent the remainder of the day silently regretting her words to her sister. With her inevitable end so clearly in sight, what she needed to be doing was helping Layla to accept the idea of a life without her. Not encouraging this unhealthy dependence the younger twin had for her. She tried to drown her thoughts in the dull chaos of organising their swift departure but Layla’s presence, forever hovering behind her, made it impossible to do so. In the end she had no choice but to leave the final worries to the servants – their tasks did not require her assistance anyway – and succumb at last to Layla’s wishes of a controlling companionship.

“Should you still be wearing that thing?” the elder twin nodded towards Layla’s neck, where the claim Charles had placed on her still hung gracefully against her skin.

She fingered it gently. “After everything that happened between us, this is all I have to remember him by.”

Surai shrugged. “Do what you like. It doesn’t matter to me anyway.”

“Suri…” her voice caught somewhere between pleading and confusion. She watched the back of her twin’s head for a few moments then slowly, carefully, she released the clasp on her necklace and held it out to Surai. “Take it. If you think it’s best.”

Surai eyed her for a moment from the corner of her eye then snatched away the necklace before Layla had a chance to object. Within the blink of an eye it had been deposited in the box on her dresser, safely hidden from eyes that would long for its giver. “Sometimes we have to forget everything that we were in order to accept who we need to be.” It was a thought from nowhere that drifted out of existence as quickly as it had entered it.

They spent the remainder of the day in the company of one another. Surai rushed back and forth as she made preparations for their hasty departure whilst Layla lingered behind her in the shadows, lost to the chaos. Having Layla nearby was both a welcomed relief and lingering torment for the eldest twin. With her sister at her side, the demon’s words were finally silenced in her mind but in its place the streams of guilt had steadily begun to flow. Already she had begun distancing herself from Layla; she dodged her gaze, froze at the slightest of touches from her – she was becoming everything she feared; a rock, cold and emotionless, wrought with a pain that nothing on Earth would let her express. But she didn’t stop it – no, Layla’s disappointment in her would be more painful than the suffering she was forced to endure.

To her fortune – or perhaps misfortune – Layla’s own turmoil kept her bitterly ignorant to the gorge that Surai was forging between them and when darkness fell and Layla slept silently beneath her sister's covers, Surai continued to dig it deeper still. "It will be easier in the end," she whispered, brushing Layla's hair from her face.

Easier for who?

With a sigh, Surai rose to her feet and paced across the room to the grand windows that closed of the balcony. Rain continued to fall steadily outside, drenching the garden outside in a sea of dull browns that drowned the beauty that had once flourished there. "For both of us."

She felt it move beside her and glanced across at the shadowed figure hovering next to her. It wasn't really there - it wouldn't dare to manifest itself where prying eyes might see it - but it had already seeped so far into her subconscious that it had created its own existence in her mind. Its presence haunted her constantly now, forever reminding her of the threat that was fast approaching. Surai pulled up her sleeve to reveal the snake-like skin covering her arm. Its hold had grown since she had last seen it, stretching so far now that some was still hidden beneath her clothes. She sighed again, letting the sleeve fall back across her wrist. How quick the sands of time fall in the realm of man. How fast the poison spreads across human flesh, until blood is torn apart eternally.

"Layla will be fine without me."

Without you who will protect her? Without her family who will she have to guide her? Without her lover whose arms will she turn to for protection?

"She's strong; she won't need any of those things."

Yet she clings to them...

Surai glanced across at the dresser where she had hidden the necklace that Charles had given her sister. It was right; she had an unhealthy attachment to that ridiculous trinket. Hiding it away wasn't enough to break Layla's bond with it - her attitude that day had proven as much - no, it needed to be disposed of. Immediately. She took it out and held it flat in the palm of her hand. "It will just hurt Layla to keep it lying around like this." They sounded like her words but they didn’t feel like them. Surai stepped out onto the balcony and crossed the damp marble until she stood at the its edge, just beyond the waterfall of droplets cascading from the roof. Her hand tightened around it as a flash of guilt swept across her. This was the only thing Layla had to remember Charles by, the single memento of their time together. Could she really destroy it knowing what it meant to Layla?

If she can't let go of him, how will she ever let go of you?

Scowling suddenly, Surai drew back her arm and thrust the necklace out into the storm. It disappeared into the sodden Earth where it was destined to be forgotten, just like Charles' weapon had been just a few short nights ago. She lingered there until daybreak, fighting back the sickening pleasure her actions had brought her. Shortly after, a servant arrived to say that Hayden was expecting them in his quarters. Surai roused her sister and they silently made their way to where the Priest was waiting. As soon as they arrived he escorted them to the hidden passage - an escape route should the palace ever be seized - and they weaved their way through the dark tunnels to where their boat was waiting for them. Morra had already taken their belongings aboard and the crew was assembled. Nothing was left but to depart. Layla quickly embraced Hayden and climbed onto the ship; Surai's goodbye was much more reserved. Her plan was finally be put into action; the last thing she wanted was to risk the old man's interference.

With a sudden heave the boat settled into the open water. Little more than a simple fishing boat, it would pass unnoticed along the Kingdom's coast. It was for the best. As long as the people believed that nothing had changed then perhaps there was a chance for some peace to be achieved. Were they to discover that their princesses were missing, all chaos would surely be released. Surai perched herself at the side of the boat, watching the endless waters drift past. When they finally rounded the Kingdom's edge, Layla joined her and they surveyed their home in calm silence. The sun had risen to the tip of the wall now, bathing the battered land in a sea of gold. Had the rains ceased it might have been beautiful but the constant torrent of water was a dark reminder of the atrocities that had taken place beyond those heavily-fortified walls.

"Do you think things will be back to normal by the time we get back?" Layla asked.

"They will be," a grim smiled crossed Surai's lips but it went unseen by her sister. "Just wait and see."

[mistysakura]

Mm, I like how this is going. The description is exquite, without being overly verbose and taking away from plot, characters etc. The personalities of Surai and Layla are being establihsed firmly, and it's nice to see Surai's darker side taking hold. I also like the art, although shading could be improved in places (Chater 3's was good, but Chapter 5's seemed a bit scruffy). Oh yeah, good funeral scene in Chapter 5; the atmosphere was great. Surai does seem a bit contradictory at the moment... if the whole point of her leaving was to keep others from being harmed, why let Layla come? Sure she's very attached to her sister, but surely the harm to be done to Layla outweighs all of Layla's pain and loneliness?

Keep it up.

[Sike Saner]

Surai’s internal conflicts are really being conveyed well in that chapter. One of the places in which this is best revealed is as she is deciding what to do with Layla’s necklace, debating within her own mind the reasons why Layla should be allowed to keep it and the reasons why she should not be allowed to keep it, until finally the latter choice won out. Another great example of a view into Surai’s situation is this:

They spent the remainder of the day in the company of one another. Surai rushed back and forth as she made preparations for their hasty departure whilst Layla lingered behind her in the shadows, lost to the chaos. Having Layla nearby was both a welcomed relief and lingering torment for the eldest twin. With her sister at her side, the demon’s words were finally silenced in her mind but in its place the streams of guilt had steadily begun to flow. Already she had begun distancing herself from Layla; she dodged her gaze, froze at the slightest of touches from her – she was becoming everything she feared; a rock, cold and emotionless, wrought with a pain that nothing on Earth would let her express. But she didn’t stop it – no, Layla’s disappointment in her would be more painful than the suffering she was forced to endure.

To her fortune – or perhaps misfortune – Layla’s own turmoil kept her bitterly ignorant to the gorge that Surai was forging between them and when darkness fell and Layla slept silently beneath her sister's covers, Surai continued to dig it deeper still. "It will be easier in the end," she whispered, brushing Layla's hair from her face.

Easier for who?

I view that as a very important and significant excerpt, because it really captures and gets across the nature of what’s going on in Surai’s mind at this point in the story; the surrounding circumstances, what she believes she must do as a result of those circumstances, and how acting on those beliefs makes her feel.

I also thought that speaking of the distance she’s creating between herself and Layla as a gorge was a very nice choice of words.


I continue to enjoy this. Keep it up.

[eevee-shayna]

Chapter 7


“What’s that?” Layla said. She didn’t mean ‘what’s that’, but more of ‘what isn’t that’. Everyone on the boat understood what she meant because they too felt like saying the same thing, for it took everyone some time to get over the ignorant bafflement. It was easier to move around because they felt lighter now. And it was easier to talk because no one had to shout to be heard.

Nearly simultaneously, everyone looked up, and for the first time since anyone could remember, there was no water beating down on them.

“It stopped raining,” Surai said. She had secretly been baffled with the rest of them, but still said it in a way that made her sound superior.

“We must be in foreign waters now,” said the captain, who was in the process of tossing a heavy, weather worn poncho from his shoulders.

The waters they had just charted through were foaming in protest to the relentless army of droplets that crashed down.

“Only our Kingdom and its neighbors are being punished,” Layla said as she stared off the ship’s edge.

“Don’t be silly, there is no divine force that is ‘punishing’ our Kingdom. It’s just rain, that’s all,” Surai corrected her sister.

Layla turned from facing the water and smiled meekly at her sister.

“Yes, of course, you are right,” she said, honestly believing the words she spoke. Unlike her sister, who knew that there was some divine force, and it resided inside her. Surai rubbed her contaminated wrist and slunk back under the deck.

“Whatever it is, I sure don’t want to go back into it.”

Layla turned now to her maid, Morra. “That’s right, you’re going back, aren’t you?” Layla said concerning to her friend. Morra had always been two steps away from the Princess and Layla had never entertained the thought of them being separated.

Morra laughed politely. “It’s quite alright, I don’t mind. I shall go wherever my Lady finds me most useful.”

Surai had previously instructed that only the Princesses were to flee the Kingdom, and that everyone else must remain there in order for things to return to normal.

“This will be the last time we shall speak in a long time,” Layla realized aloud.

“Yes, my Lady,” Morra replied with a smile, although fully aware of the long departure.

“Morra, I do not know how long I will be away, but I do not want you to forget me,” the Princess said as she stared into her handmaid’s face.

“My Lady, there is no way I would forget you.”

“Still, I don’t want you to be left all alone like that. I wish there was some promise I could give you. I can’t promise you when I’ll be back. Still, there has to be something,” Layla said, puzzling over the problem. At last, she spoke up with an idea. “A letter! I will promise you that I will try to send word of my wellbeing. I do not know when I will be able to send it to you or by what means, but someday expect a letter.”

The two women were sitting Aft on the ship – so as to see where they had been – and were leaning forward like two girls chattering some gossip. The sun dried their distinctly statures of clothing.

“The Kingdom has been somewhat, well, off lately. If the letter is addressed from you to me, then it might not reach me,” Morra said as a legitimate concern.

“True. Then it won’t be addressed from me. It will be addressed from a long lost relative. With no return address of course. That would raise all sorts of political issues. Now what should your long lost relative be named..” Layla plotted.

“Ms. Claire D’Lorre, My Aunt traveling abroad. I always wanted to have some relative with a fancy name like that,” Morra piped up.

“Brilliant!” Layla praised, “And it won’t be addressed to you personally, so to avoid suspicion, but instead to your family. What is your family name, by the way?”

“I’m not sure. I was never told. I’ve just been your Handmaid all my life, that’s all I’ve known,” Morra said, losing the spirit she had had a moment ago.

Lalya placed her hand warmly on Morra’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry to hear that,” she said sincerely.

“It’s nothing. The palace is my home, and your court is my family,” Morra said. Layla suspected that Morra had more to say, but stopped herself. Most likely to maintain formalities. The Princess had told Morra many times that such official procedures were not necessary between them, but the woman had also said that she ‘knew her place’.

Layla altered the sad tone. “Well, we’ll just have to make a family name for you. The letter will be addressed to the servant’s mail room, but not to you directly. Instead, it will be addressed to Ebon Family. Ebon, for my ebony feathers. And when everyone looks around confused you’ll simply say that it is an old family name, and since no one else in your family is there to claim the letter, then you will.”

Morra’s spirit returned. “That could work. But what if they search the contents first?”

The Princess’s countenance glowed with excitement at their little game. “Well, The first page will be condolences for some abroad relative of yours. When I start writing with my ‘I’s crossed instead of dotted, the you’ll know it’s me writing and not your Aunt D’Lorre. And I will also put one of my feathers in the envelope. You’ll know it’s from me because of that.”

The two girls giggled as they made up Ms. Claire D’Lorre’s life. There little game passed the time as the ship sailed from one expanse of open water to another.

When the sun began to set, Surai reappeared fro the evening meal. Their rations were not Kingly, but sufficient. As Layla began to eat, Surai pulled her aside out of hearing from the rest of the ship’s inhabitants.

“I talked to the captain and we should be reaching a foreign port by tomorrow. The land is known as K’Tar. We are sure to not be recognized there, but just to be safe we must be precautious. First off, we need to change our clothes. One of the crew is going to go to the market to buy us some clothing of the land, so we won’t look too much like foreigners. We will carry ourselves as slightly upper class people, just so we don’t get sold into slavery. You need to stick close to me and let me do the talking,” Surai said.

Layla nodded obediently. After finishing a bite, she asked, “What is our plan in this land? I know why we fled the Kingdom, but what are we to do in our time here?”

Layla craved her twin’s guidance, more so now that they were entering unfamiliar territory. Surai was so strong, so assured. Layla trusted her twin enough to follow her anywhere.

[Sike Saner]

I’m finding myself really liking Morra as a character. I also feel a little bad for her, for the way she seems inhibit herself due to her status as a handmaid… I wonder if she will be making another appearance at some point after her imminent parting from Layla and Surai… I also wonder what will await the sisters in K’Tar, of course. Looks like there are some interesting things waiting on the horizon—I look forward to finding out what sort of things those might be.