This is my first post and it's only a rough draft so it won't be my best work but I'm in desperate need of ideas to make it better. Plus I'm not too keen on the name so if you have any ideas feel free to let me know. Oh, and please don't comment on how long it is becausse I already know. Thanks. Read and enjoy...
Prologue:
The moon hid behind the clouds, not wanting to share the sorrow and dread that had spread through the land, as a small, regal coach made its way towards its destination. Even the trees shook with fear as the howling wind raged through their branches and the rain fell from the heavens like angels tears, creating an echo inside the coach as each drop bounced off the canvas roof. Four escort riders, equipped with chain mail armour and falchion swords, rode beside the carriage; ready to protect it if the need arises.
Within the warmth and safety of the carriage sat an elderly woman embracing a young infant in her fragile arms. Lines marked her face where age had taken its toll and a soft shawl wrapped around her head and shoulders kept her silver hair from falling over her face. Across from her sat a younger man who also had a young infant clutched in his arms. His broad shoulders and strong jaw line expressed a valuable fighter but the grey hairs that had started to seep through his nest of fiery red ones and his soften facial features suggested that the battle ground was a place he had left years ago. After hours of watching over the sleeping tot in his arms, the man finally moved from his trance like position and rested his gaze on the golden crown that was positioned on the plush seat beside him. A single tear ran down his cheek and sadness clawed at his heart as realisation struck him; he might never be able to give his crown to his son. He raised his head to look at his companion, two sad, hazel eyes meeting two sombre, grey ones. A delicate smile appeared on her face in a feeble attempt to comfort her friend through the difficult task ahead.
“I share your pain.” She whispered, not wanting to disturb the two children.
“Do you? It is not your child that you are giving up, Natara. It is not the sole heir to your kingdom and fortune.” His response was more forceful then intended and the smile on her face would have faltered at his lack of sympathy, but the old woman knew better then to be hurt by a comment that had not been thought through. Still, she felt obliged to point out her friend’s mistake and argue the point.
“It may not be my child that I am giving up, but she is still my grand-child and I would do anything for her to be able to stay here with me and her father.” Her companion nodded in apology, realising how harsh his words sounded, but quickly moved on to get away from the silence that was slowly becoming more dominant.
“How was Ferris? Did he take it well?”
“That is not the word I would have chosen.” Natara sighed. “He broke down within seconds of us entering and it took two of your men to hold him back as I picked up the child. He may be a robust blacksmith, but she is his world and I would have called him a fool if he didn’t act the way he did. He will not get over this in a week.”
“None of us will.”
The carriage pulled to a sudden stop and a young boy appeared at the window; his chestnut coloured hair blowing fiercely across his face in the strong wind. With a gentle CLICK of the latch he opened the door and stood aside to let the occupants out. The carriage driver jumped down from his seat and held on to the horses reins so they didn’t get spooked by the wind.
“This is it, your majesty. The northern most point, just like you asked for.” The King nodded his thanks and handed the man a leather bound bag, which was received with great pleasure.
The smell of the sea salt below was overwhelming and the sharp waves crashing against the cliff face sent spray over the top, aiding the rain in soaking everything. The two adults wrapped the infants up in tight blankets in an attempt to shield them from the harsh weather. On the very edge of the cliff top protruded a large, stone archway. Several symbols had been etched into the stone and weeds had started to grow around the base.
The King and Natara advanced towards the archway, while the four knights dismounted their horses and formed a protective barrier around the cliff top. The young boy from before, wasting no time, reached into the carriage and produced two wicker baskets, each lined with soft material, and placed them in front of the arch. The two children were placed in their own baskets and all goodbyes were said quickly and quietly; no-one wanted to make this torture any longer than it had to be. Natara knelt between the two baskets once the King had stood up and moved away, and whispered under her breath to each of them in an ancient language. After lightly kissing them both on the forehead and slipping an envelope into each basket, she proceeded to stand up and turned to her friend, a sad glint in her eyes.
“The enchantment I placed on them both will conceal them from evil until they are both sixteen. However, the magic that they were born with will disappear until the spell wears off. I have placed the letters in each of the baskets that you and Ferris wrote.” The King nodded in understanding and Natara nodded back before turning around and stretching her arms out wide. “Oenp het paltar ot het reath dwolr.” She shouted, making sure she could be heard over the sound of the wind and rain. A rushing sound filled the air as a swirling blue portal occupied the archway.
A swift flash of light hit the ground in front of the two baskets, barely missing Natara’s arm. Turning around to face the disturbance they could just make out a cloaked figure with, what looked like, a small child at her side. The figure let out a cackling laugh and both Natara and the King gasped in shock. How could she have known, thought Natara.
The driver grabbed the horses and pulled the carriage towards the woods as the four escort riders pulled the King and the young boy behind it for safety before creating a barrier in front of Natara and the children. They unsheathed their swords and pointed them towards the figure in a feeble attempt to ward it off. The figure pointed a bony figure to the knights, keeping one hand on the shoulder of the child behind her.
“What are you doing here, Ira?” shouted the King from his crouched position in the trees, not really wanting a reply but trying to bide some time for Natara by distracting her.
“What am I doing here? You fool.” She hissed. “I am here to stop you from sending those two brats through that portal.” She cackled once again and sent a bolt of energy towards the line of knights. The four men closed their eyes tightly, waiting for the impact that never came. They slowly opened their eyes to see Natara standing before them, surrounded by a greyish haze that was stopping the energy pulse from hitting her. Ira stopped her attack and stared as the old woman fell to the ground, not used to defending herself from such strong magic. The knights knelt down and helped her to her feet again, making sure she was alright.
“Do not worry about me. These old bones have some life in them still.” Once standing again, she faced the cloaked woman with a fierce expression on her face. “I will not allow you to harm these children, Ira, especially when you have someone so young watching you. Why have you brought her here?” She pointed to young girl who clung on tightly around the figures leg. Her piercing green eyes stood out through the long, ebony hair that had fallen across her face. She wore the same type of cloak as the figure and watched everyone intensely.
“Keaira needs to know how her power should be used and who our enemies are!” The two smiled simultaneously and Ira sent out another bolt of energy, which Natara blocked again.
“Keaira might be your eldest daughter, Ira, but you have another one as well.” She pointed to one of the baskets. “She is your daughter, your youngest daughter, and I bet you don’t even know her name.” Natara waited for a reply and let out a small laugh when, just as she had expected, it didn’t come.
“Yes. Unfortunately for me that brat is my daughter and you, old hag, have to be my mother. Well, Keaira, say goodbye to your grandmother.” The small child waved with an evil smile on her face, which stunned Natara to the core.
A furious bolt of energy that burned bright blue with power came from Ira’s hands. It sliced through the rain, heading straight for the two cribs that still sat quietly beside the portal. The four knights moved to block the attack but Natara knew it wouldn’t be as simple as that. Time seemed to slow down as she stepped in front of the baskets and stuck her hand out towards the arch, whispering in the ancient language. The baskets floated in the air and as the energy blast hit Natara straight in the back a pulse of energy from her own hand sent the baskets through. Time speed up again the elderly woman hit the ground and the portal closed, trapping the two babies on the other side.
Ira let out a piercing scream and blasted her mother with several more energy bolts. She backed off, breathing heavily, and grabbed Keaira’s hand tightly.
“Do not think you have seen the last of me, your majesty. I have seen how you cower behind that cart, leaving your son’s side. We will be back and the whole of your kingdom will shake with fear under our reign.” With a click of her fingers the two were engulfed by smoke and vanished just as quickly and quietly as they had appeared.
“Natara?” The King croaked appearing from behind the coach and watching silently as one of the knights placed two fingers to her wrist. After a few seconds he shook his head and placed a hand over her face, closing her eyes. The men bowed their head’s in respect and spent a few seconds in silence. The rain ceased its quest to drench the world and the wind died down, as if paying their own respects.
“What do we do know, Sire?” One of the knights asked.
“We go back to the castle and inform every one of these events,” he sighed, “and we pray every night that the two children are safe and will be safe for the next sixteen years.”
