a/n: hey, thanks for checking out Starry Veins! This is the novel I
wrote for Round V of LMS, and it's still a first draft! While I don't
discourage any feedback, I prefer not to receive feedback on grammar!
I'm not polishing this draft up yet, so I'm not as concerned about
editing. I am, of course, open to all feedback, but I ask that you keep
this in consideration! Thanks <3
*
[Isadora]
The
weather was nice enough that Isadora wondered if the other four back
home were running around the forest yet. It made the adults jittery,
but the land was domesticated around the citadel and the village. It
had never hurt anyone before, although there’d been one incident
where Mishal had sworn a root had tried to grab his foot.
That
hadn’t been long after Mishal started trying to be years older than
he was, and Cassius had reverted as if in retaliation.
There
was a river running parallel to the road that had been there for
three days. A forest stretched beyond it. The Wilderlands were quiet,
and so was Mishal beside her. He’d been quiet ever since their
conversation of missing home and his birthday. She didn’t know if
this was some mood because of that, or if he was bored.
He’d
never admit that. He was still a child, and a veracious learner at
that, and he’d been stuck on a horse for over a week. Still, he’d
never complain, not even up to the point where he died of it.
She
didn’t press, though she wanted to. He’d probably retreat, like
he always did, and they’d get nowhere.
There
was a light breeze that only moderated the sun beaming from above.
The sound of the gears of the walking carriages clacked behind them,
steam hissing and dissipating on the wind. She had shed her coat and
gloves already, baring her arms to the warmth of the sun. Mishal was
still wrapped in his jacket like it was the Moon’s Vigil again.
She
wondered of the others. She hoped they were all right. Ember and
Rowan could take care of themselves well enough, but Cassius was so
sensitive and Alanna so young. It was already the longest she’d
ever been away from any of them. She’d never
been away from any of them.
A
wish in exchange for absence of the ones loved the most.
She sighed. There was no perfect scenario. She had, in truth, been
sick of the citadel and seeing the same everything all the time.
She
shifted in her saddle. Her thighs hurt. Her back and shoulders ached.
She wished there were even a few comforts on the road, as there were
back home. She missed hot baths.
Then
she realised Margaretta had turned from her place at the front of the
party and was straightening her horse to approach her and Mishal.
“I
apologise that I have not come to speak with the two of you since we
departed,” Margaretta said, pulling her horse around until she rode
on Isadora’s left. “You must have questions, and I wanted to
explain in more explicit detail the undertaking we have before us.”
She
glanced at Mishal on her right. He nodded, the distant glaze over his
eyes replaced by attentiveness. He had something to focus on now. She
turned back to Margaretta.
Margaretta
nodded when they gave her a silent invitation to continue. “You
know we are heading towards the Castle in the Valley. We’re first
heading to the village south of the ruins, where we’ll restock and
collect our bearings. Then we’ll head north over the hills the
block in the ruins. I’ve heard in the recent years, rocs have been
making their nests in the area, and they’re not friendly in the
slightest. We’ll have to be careful.”
“I
do have a question, actually,” she said. She shifted her weight to
better face Margaretta. “The three kingdoms, at least two of the
them fell because they had lost their trueblooded rulers. What about
the third?”
“Its
people disappeared,” Margaretta said. “There are reports of some
kind of slaughter, but certainly not high enough in number to
encompass the whole city, and there isn’t a single report of what
happened to the truebloods. It’s assumed that something happened to
them, however, as the kingdom fell to ruin, and its people
disappeared.” She shook her head. “Nobody really knows. The
Canopy Kingdom was the last to fall, and the land quickly took over
after. Nobody can even get close to the ruins. Nobody even knows if
they’re still there.”
Rowan
would be more productive at asking questions than she was. What had
they said about it?
“I
thought nobody’s gotten close to the other ruins either?” Mishal
asked, brow bent in a thoughtful frown.
“Nobody
has accessed any of the ruins, but the ones that fell in the jungle
aren’t even visible from a distance. The Wilderlands remains a
tightknit forest there, closing off everything inside from any who
would try to access it. At least for the Valley Ruins and the Sundown
Ruins, you can see the walls where the kingdoms once stood.”
She
frowned. “If nobody can access the ruins, what makes you believe we
can?”
Margaretta’s
expression grew tense and she turned, staring ahead towards the
horizon. Her features looked severe, even with the pale hue of her
hair to frame and soften her face. “We have something the other
expeditions do not,” was all she said in place of an explanation.
She
exchanged a glance with Mishal. He looked unsettled, but he wouldn’t
voice his own thoughts unless pressed. She nodded to herself. “That
sounds like something you say to convince yourself that the outcome
may be different than past attempts. How is there anything to
distinguish us from those who have tried and failed in the past?
Tried and failed and died?”
She knew little about the ruins’ gruesome histories, but Margaretta
stiffened at her words, and it was all the confirmation she needed.
“Just
because your parents are not present does not mean you have free rein
of however you choose to act. Mind your place. We do
have something to set us apart from other expeditions. To go into
this blindly would be foolish.” Margaretta tapped her horse and he
began to move faster forward, back towards the front. “It is not
your place to wonder how, it is your place to take in this
opportunity. We record history, and in some instances, make it, but
you will stay in line while we do so.” And then her horse trotted
away.
She
stared at the back of Margaretta’s head in complete surprise. She’d
asked a question. And maybe she had pressed her luck, but to get so
defensive?
Someone
laughed behind her, and she turned to see one of the scholars who had
some skill with a blade. Forestter. “Just wait until we’ve been
on the road a few months,” he said, as if nothing had just
happened. “We’ll all be ready to kill each other then.”
“Seems
like Margaretta’s getting started early,” Mishal murmured under
his breath. He looked as perturbed as she felt.
She
nodded her agreement, and was uneasy about it the rest of the day.
word count:
1,141
Points: 2806
Reviews: 935
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