This is the first thing I'm posting on here and I would really appreciate someone taking a look at it. Please dont be too harsh though, constructive criticism only!
p.s. I know the title is the same as my pen name but I only just realised this! This has always been called Leoni for reasons that become apparent, but I suddenly realised I named myself after it! Oh well....
Prologue
The streets of Old Karnac were knotted and gnarled from years of wear and use. Some led to rows of houses, some to the old gates of the royal castle, whereas others led to nowhere but further dark passageways. Houses bulged from their allotted spaces onto the cobbles, growing ever taller with necessity. Drying lines were strung between the houses like stitches on a wound; a desperate attempt to keep the streets from bursting open. However it seemed that wherever one looked, Old Karnac was splitting at the seams.
At this time of night, the city bristled with the sorts of activities reserved for the darker hours of the day. The horse clattering idly through Old Karnac was largely ignored, the general idea being that was normal for shadowy figures on horseback to travel through the city at night.
This rider’s eyes were cast to the underhand deals and the brutality in the corners with little surprise or worry. Dressed for the winter - with a cloak draping him from the neck to his boots - he had his hood pulled low over his face and shoulders hunched against the chill. The white shirt underneath his torn-open jacket was muddied by spatters from rivers and marshes along the journey. Fingers encased in worn and holed gloves gripped the reigns and knee-high felt boots rubbed gently against the horse’s side. He brought the horse to a stop in a central courtyard, movements in the shadows halting temporarily to watch. The rider moved his eyes upwards, tilting back his head. Above him, on an rugged outcrop of black stone, the royal castle sat comfortably in the silence. The windows were shuttered like hooded eyes and all lights bar the ones guarding the gates were dimmed or shut out. In great rooms smelling of wood smoke and winter flowers, the King and his guests slept uneasily. The rider took his time studying the sight before him, hands loose on the reigns.
The hood soon glided off his tilted head, revealing his pale face to the stars’ glow. He was young, his hair thick and as dark as his eyes. His face was unused to such seriousness, handsome features clouded. His chest rose with a deep breath and with a nudge of his heels, he urged the horse into the street ahead.
The gates of the royal castle did not open without good reason, and the guards took a long time to study the rider as he pulled the horse just short of them, his hood now back in place.
“Name?” one of the guards asked gruffly, as the other circled with narrowed eyes.
“I’m expected,” the rider said with a thin patience.
“You’re expected? This time of night?” the guard scoffed and made a tugging gesture with his hand, “Take down your hood, let me see you.”
With a roll of his eyes, the young rider pushed back his hood.
“Oh. It’s you.”
“May I come in?”
As the guard prepared to toss back an answer, the gate door swung open with the creak and groan of hinges long-ignored. Recognising the newcomer, the guards straightened then bowed, unconsciously letting the hilts of their swords go.
“Your Majesty. It’s Bluekai. Does he have permission to come in?”
“Of course, you can let him through. But quietly, please.”
Prince Arkane inclined his head and his face lit up with a smile, “It will probably be best for everyone if my father does not realise he is here.”
Bluekai had tethered his horse and was beginning to brush him down when Arkane spoke again.
“Blue’. Where are your family at the moment?”
“Dred Valley.”
“Is it really too cold to stay in your village?”
“The dogs can barely bury their sticks. Raising vegetables is out of the question. So...” he brushed clinging pieces of straw from his gloves, “...the Dred valley it is. Then to the coast, I think we are going to Sanhuay.”
“Ah,” Arkane smirked, “Mixing with pirates? Do the Jaila not have a poor enough reputation as it is?”
Bluekai sighed and made the last tie on his horse’s blanket, “What did you call me here for, Arkane? I rode halfway across Katoric to come here, and it is not as if I’m welcome. If your father finds out you’re still fraternising with a Jaila-”
“I found something,” Arkane interrupted, his smile childishly devilish.
“You found something?” Bluekai growled after a moment’s pause, “Found something? That is it? You called me across the kingdom to come and look at something you found?”
Arkane took hold of Bluekai’s wrist, pulling him gently towards the stable door. Bluekai jumped at the feel of Arkane’s skin against his, but it did not deter Arkane from tugging him out into the courtyard.
“Where are we going?”
“I’m going to show you what I found.”
“It had better be good,” Bluekai threatened half-heartedly, “If it’s those trousers that I lost under your bed the last time I was here, then there really was no need to call me.”
“They aren’t your trousers, Bluekai,” Arkane smiled with a chuckle.
For reasons both physical and something else - something he could not quite identify - he could not wriggle from Arkane’s grip. With Arkane’s tall, broad-shouldered frame protecting him from the wind, he let himself be dragged through a side entrance to the royal castle.
Inside, the walls were bathed in the buttery yellow of the night candles. Bluekai felt the warmth immediately begin to seep through his stiff, cold clothes. For the first time since he arrived, he caught Arkane’s face in full light as he turned to show him up the stairs.
His hair had grown a little longer since his last visit, Bluekai mused. His light brown curls now licked the tops of his ears, green eyes set into a more defined face. His twenty second year had accentuated the seriousness in his features, a seriousness that lay beneath a more childish persona. Bluekai suddenly felt dwarfed by his old friend.
“So what have you found?” he whispered, as they drew up outside one of the many bedroom doors. At the back of his mind Bluekai knew there was one door he would recognise any day.
“Come and see.”
Arkane shouldered open the door and ushered Bluekai in. The room did not have the splendour of most, but it was unmistakably a room of the Katoric royal family’s home. The bed was four poster, barely making an impression on the four walls sweeping to the high ceiling.
On the bed, however, lay four figures. The bed was large enough to leave space between them all as they lay on their sides. Two girls, and two boys. Hair straggled and clothes smeared with mud, they were bruised and battered.
“Who are they?” Bluekai asked in a low voice, eyes wide.
“We don’t know. They swept up in a foreign boat on the coast. But look at their clothes.”
Bluekai stepped forward and took in the dark blue, firm material of their trousers.
“They’re...odd. I haven’t seen anything like them before.”
“No. Exactly. My father was suspicious; he had them drugged when they arrived. I think he is struggling to know what to do with them.”
“Who are they?” Bluekai asked again, inching closer.
“Nobody knows. But they had this with them.”
Arkane leant around Bluekai to a small dresser table and scooped up a muddied, silver object. He opened up his palm and held it out for Bluekai to inspect.
“No wonder your father is nervous about them.”
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Thanks guys!
