Aiobrar (taking characters)

[Zazz]

Nizar's face lit up with joy at the fruit he now cradled to his chest. So far, Erik and Safiya were his favourites in this land of ice. And, perhaps, the farmer at the border who had sold them his furs. The Shirazi men would surely have frozen to death otherwise. He had been paid handsomely, in the hopes the farmer could feed his scrawny family and procure new furs for his home.

"Thank you, I believe I do." He took a slight bow before the young woman, grinning, and practically skipped back to his room with his apples. "Goodnight, Lady Safiya."

______

The next morning began i the guest room, with Khalil watching from a cushioned chair as Nizar received a shave from a Holtian barber. Nizar was anxious, used to his own barber who knew exactly how he liked his beard shaped. He was very clear with this barber how he wanted his beard short and neat, but not completely clean-shaven. His hair, which had grown long beneath his headscarf over the journey, was to be trimmed to about a dagger's width. Just as he finished, a servant came by to inform Khalil and the prince that it was time to retrieve the sword, as per Dominik's instructions.

 

[SilverFlight]

Prince Jahden looked at Kassandra as innocently as a child caught doing something he shouldn't. "My horse?" There was a smile playing on his lips that betrayed absolute delight. He stayed firmly out of the waves but leaned in slightly to be better heard.
"My dear lady, the horse I have brought to you isn't mine at all...She is yours."
He straightened and looked back at the animal, pawing the sand, eager to run again. "A gift, one of the finest mares I have ever trained."
He returned her smirk with a mischievous smile. "I am afraid water clothes do not suit me half as much as they do you. If the lady permits, I will stay on shore."
At that moment Reyshara arrived, taking a place not far from Rowan and standing at ease but within reachable distance of her prince.
The servants began to set down what they had brought and Jahden began to pour a fine wine into two silver goblets. There were grapes and more exotic fruits laid out as well. Jahden sat himself in one of the chairs and reclined in it gratefully.
"I trust the journey was not too arduous for you? These roads can be beastly in the rain."
He watched the servants carefully as they laid out the things and then stood aside.
Zazz

 

[NightmareFox]

As the men woke up and readied themselves for the 'grave robbing' of an ancestral sword, the princess was still fast asleep. She had been awake late, nearly seeing the sun start to peak over the horizon. There was a heavy knock at the princess's door before it was pushed ajar. "GOOD MORNING! RISE AND SHINE, LOVELY!" Safiya burst into the room in high spirits. "YOU ARE GETTING MARRIED TODAY!" The dark haired lady plopped onto the princess's bed gaining a much earned pillow to the face.

"Hmrph," Cecilie sleepily responded. "Too. Early. For. This." The princess lifted her head slowly, her vision still foggy from sleep. She rubbed the crust from her eyes as the weight of her day came down upon her. "How are you even in here? I haven't had the bath." Cecilie had mixed feelings over a bunch of married women bathing with her in the hot baths. She just hoped they did not intend to actually clean her. The princess was independent when it came to her hygiene; she did not want one washing her body when she was perfectly capable of doing it herself.

Safiya pursed her lips, "I may have taken advantage of the poor guard outside." It was one of the guards that had been smitten with the lady when they were younger, and apparently he still felt so. "Perhaps my lips befell his cheek and I asked very nicely if I may see the princess for a few minutes." Cecilie shook her head as her lady pulled out a wrapped item. "I just wanted to be the first to give you a gift. It's traveled a long way."

The princess took the small parcel from her friend and pulled aside the wrappings to find a smooth, slightly pink, round gem inside a moon. The princess gazed at the gem curiously. She had not seen such a gem before. "What is this?" She asked as she un-clipped the clasp to the small metal chain to wrap around her wrist.

"Rose quartz. A gemstone found in Shiraz." Safiya covered her friend's hand. "Not for your wrist, though. You wear it on your ankle." The dark haired lady took the anklet from the princess and clasped it around the left ankle. Safiya uncovered her right ankle with a nearly twin anklet adorned her leg. Instead of a moon, however, it was a sun. "Women in Shiraz wear many such things. I though perhaps I could be the first to gift you one."

Cecilie and Safiya had always been close; the princess considered the dark haired beauty a sister. "Thank you, Safiya. It is beautiful." The nearly white haired blonde wrapped her friend into a hug. "I do suppose I forgive you for waking me." They both chuckled and pulled apart when the door open, the young guard ushering the lady to come out as he heard the voices of the older women down the hall. Safiya scurried out, giving the guard another kiss on the cheek. His face was flushed as he bowed to the princess and closed her door.

Shortly after Safiya's departure, the guard opened the door once more, announcing the arrival of the queen and the women with her. Miranda, the queen, was shocked to find the princess awake. "I thought I would have to shake you from your slumber." Before Cecilie could respond to her mother's remark, the queen raised her hand, "Well, let's go have breakfast before the bathing. There is much to do before you are to be wedded this late noon."

Cecilie's aunt yawned lightly, having had very little sleep as well. Afterall, she had been in the princess's room far later than the rest of the women, listening to the princess about her worries and hopes for her future. "Breakfast sounds lovely, yes." She took the princess's hand, "But let us get her changed first, hmm?" Miranda sighed, waving them off as she left the room.

The princess graciously thanked her aunt for having a head on her shoulders as she changed into clothing that was more appropriate to be parading in around the castle rather than her bed clothes.





Dominik and the cousins stood outside the family's burial vault. All the royal members of the family were buried in a vault while the commoners were buried in the land. It was a way to preserve the bodies that had ruled over the peoples. They were not to feed the land but to watch over the future generations. Beside them, the prince's brothers anxiously awaited the return of their brother. With a small smirk, Dominik wondered if the Shirazi prince would even find the sword. He had hid it very deep in the vault. The blonde nearly gagged at the smell of the casket he hid it behind.

Zazz

 

[Zazz]

The prince of Shiraz pulled the loose end of his headscarf across his face, shielding himself from the chill of the northern air. Up ahead, his half-brothers stood with Prince Dominik just outside the royal burial vault, as it had been called. The Shirazi's nose wrinkled at the thought of rotting corpses. He had seen his share of dead bodies from the skirmishes at the borders, and travellers caught in the badlands. Traders, unaccustomed to the desert heat, left to dry in the sand. Nizar-Amir could not fathom why one would dishonour their own family for generations and not return their bodies to ashes. He hoped it was simply a cruel joke.

But alas, it was not, as he soon discovered; the stench was... unpleasant, at best, as he entered the vault. The chill of the air outside seemed to seep into the stone. He held the fabric of his headscarf against his mouth and nose, trying not to gag. He did not wish to offend the dead, but he really, really wanted to light the vault's innards. He was happy his own ancestral sword would be nowhere near this place.

Deeper he went, and the stench only grew more unbearable. Twists and turns around the vault turned up nothing. Nothing but dead bodies of old kings and queens poorly sealed in stone coffins. Decorations in words and symbols the prince did not understand. Onward, he pressed himself, even while he felt sick to his stomach. This was wrong. So wrong. He muttered prayers for the deceased's souls as he passed each coffin.

The prince was thankful he had not eaten before this adventure, as he would surely have emptied his stomach at the smell. Thankfully, it was, indeed, the sword of Princess Cecilie's ancestor just up ahead. Kneeling in the forsaken place, Nizar uttered one last prayer. A prayer for the long life, good health, and happiness of his bride to be.

The prince of Shiraz emerged from the burial vault stinking of it, the sword in his hand. With a cough, he uncovered his face, inhaling the crisp, northern air. To Domiik, he said, "Your land holds strange customs, my friend. I do hope it is time for that bath."