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[Lady Sabine & QuirkyAngel] A Land Steeped in Magic & Mystery

Blah, bla-blah, bla-blah….


Krezbel sat on throne, an utterly bored expression on his face. It was only his step-mother’s constant pinching that kept him from slumping in his seat. Krezbel knew he ought do a better job of keeping his true feelings hidden. However, one could only listen to so many petty complaints from shallow-minded nobles before one started to tune them out.


They were all like sheep, milling around the throne room, trying to garner attention from the king—each trying to use their closeness to the royal line to their advantage. Wolf-like, self-important, sheep, but still sheep nonetheless. If they needed something they go to the king. If they had an argument, they expect the king to solve it. It was as if they expected the king to solve all their problems!


Krezbel had to fight desperately to keep his face from warping into a sneer. At least the complaints from commoners were relevant and often a necessity. Krezbel couldn’t care less about a broken engagement between Lord ‘So and so’ and Lord ‘What’s his name’s’ daughter nor the subsequent loss of fortunes. If the girl wanted to elope with another man, Krezbel failed to see how he could do anything about it.


Krezbel blinked in surprise, awoken from his sleepiness, when he heard an audible gasp from the wealthy lord and ladies. The Commander of his Rangers arrived at the throne room moving with the grace and dexterity of a lioness on the hunt. Maeve appeared as she would in a battle, her face caked with paint, giving her a feral appearance. The king was so mesmerized by the savage appearance of his former friend that Krezbel was at a loss for words.


He remembered arranging a meeting with her—but he had thought it to be about the Ranger’s budget and other trivial ranger matters. Krezbel never expected Maeve to show up looking so…exotic.


Krezbel could hear the murmurs of discontent from the nobles. Apparently none were happy about the appearance of the barbarous commoner, but they were all too polite to say anything. Only Lady Aithne looked strangely satisfied by the turn of events.


“Your Excellency,” Krezbel’s step-mother practically purred to the dumbfounded king. “I believe all matters regarding specific divisions of the kingdom’s military affairs should be discussed within a private audience, should it not?”


“Huh? Oh right…” Krezbel coughed, clearing his throat. “So that all military secrets of the kingdom remain protected, I ask that all parties not involved with the Rangers excuse themselves from the throne room.”


Which, Krezbel reflected, was the polite, roundabout way of kicking the nobles out of the throne room…and they all knew it.


“But, your majesty—,”


Krezbel didn’t even have to reply. Lady’s Aithne’s scathing expression was enough to silence the protesting Lord. Krezbel watched as one by one, the nobles filed out of the throne room so that only Krezbel, Maeve, and his Emerald Knight bodyguards remained. Their duty was to ensure the safety of the king and they were always present wherever the king went...regardless of the fact that Krezbel found them utterly useless and often escaped them with ease. Lady Aithne left last, her calculating gaze flicking only once to Maeve before the former queen left with the same dignity she always carried when her husband was still alive.


Krezbel sighed. "Why are you always so full of surprises, Commander Maeve?" Despite, his words he couldn't hide the glimmer of curiosity in his eyes. "So, what is it you wish to speak of?"


He certainly didn't think that discussing the ranger's budget required such a...unique get-up.
 
She grinned in satisfaction as the nobles filed out, her teeth a flash of white on her paint-dark face. It was satisfying to see them all retreat before her, to part like the sea before a wrathful god. She was in her element dressed like that, brave enough to face anything- even Krezbel. Somehow, the thought of being rejected by him was almost as bad as the thought of ruining the Rangers' respect forever. Still, she bowed formally to him as he addressed her, trying her best not to let the sigh be too discouraging.


"It's hard to ask you to understand something that you can't see, your grace," She replied smoothly, rising and pulling the hood over her features, pulling her arms into the voluminous expanse of the cloak until she was formless, then bowing deeply. "I have been negligent in my duties. I have no excuses, but in way of reason I offer my youth and inexperience. When I served your father, he already knew all I had to tell, and my previous Commander perished before he passed on to me the fact that you had not been informed."


Her eyes flicked to the Emerald Knights standing behind him. They had secrets of their own, and she suspected more than a few of them were supernatural, at least in origin, but she couldn't even venture a guess if they trusted the King with them or not. They were a whole different breed, and she couldn't recall getting one to have a decent conversation with her.


"Before I explain to you our unique needs, I thought I would explain our unique duties," She continued, motioning for the blinds to be drawn back, casting the hall into further darkness. Other Rangers stepped out, some carrying instruments, others with artifacts. "That others have done this better than I in the past there is no doubt, but this is the only way I know how. Through the same songs and stories this knowledge was passed to me."


The Rangers sat in a half-circle near the base of the throne, Maeve and four other longest-serving of her men, and they spoke, and sang, and spoke again, and passed him items. A splintered unicorn's horn. An old and tarnished dragon scale. A length of silk said to be a thousand years old, untearable, and still vibrant as though freshly woven. Rough charcoal sketches. The songs were somewhat tamer, speaking instead of the great heroes of her past, of Stride-Alone and Bertan Greenbeard and the Silvertongue, of the mad dash of an anonymous ranger along the kingsroad and a new recruit meeting a dryad in the woods. Then there were the stories, stories that spoke of the signs of magic, the feel of it, how to use it, how to twist shadows and bond with horses and use dreams to understand the world.


It was inadequate. Inadequate to prepare new Rangers, much the less explain what they had seen and done and would need to do again to someone who had never ridden out, never felt the tug of magic on their skin or their hearts. When the Rangers were done and sunlight flowed in again, each of them in turn rolled up a sleeve or a pant leg to display the mark on their skin that the magic put there, the arrow and twining vines that marked them as Rangers, no two alike.


Maeve's own was last, right over her sternum so that she had to unlace her vest a ways in order to display it. A golden arrow facing upwards, wound about by intricate leaved vines that covered an area the size of her hand, the largest and most vibrant mark among the Rangers. A tattoo, almost, but put there by no mortal hand. They appeared when on was chosen for the call, and gained their true color upon induction. The Captains' arrows gleamed silver; Maeve's gold. She had not chosen the job of Commander at all, nay, it had chosen her. She still remembered the pain of waking up one morning to the mark burning, branding her as it changed, and how it was sore for days. Would it hurt so bad, she wondered, when it left? Or would she die in the line of duty like so many before her, and never need to find out?


"There is so little we know, and less we can explain," She sighed to Krezbel as she laced her vest up again, covering the mark slowly. "I had always thought you knew. I should have informed you sooner, my king. And I wish I knew a better way to make it all clear."
 
Krezbel listened to Maeve, confused by the “duties” she spoke of. Her voice and the ways she spoke captivated his interest. He wanted to know more of what his father apparently knew that he didn’t. When the throne room descended to darkness and more Rangers stepped from behind the blinds, several Emerald Knights reached for their swords. Only Krezbel’s hand stopped them from drawing their blades.


He didn’t think Maeve would try to kill him. Krezbel sensed no lies, nor malice from the Commander of his Rangers. Therefore, he simply waited and watched as the Rangers formed a half circle near the base of his throne, carrying unique instruments and strange items. When they began to speak, singing stories of old, Krezebel’s features morphed from confused to entranced. Krezbel hadn’t heard of such stories since childhood, when his father had taken him upon his knee and enthralled him with tales of unicorns and dragons that once roamed the land.


Krezbel reverently took the items the Rangers handed him, studying the artifacts curiously. He had no idea whether the items were real or not. However, the fact that he detected no lies, suggested they were real…at the very least, the Rangers believed it to be so. When the song ended, and sunlight returned to the throne room, Krezbel was almost disappointed. He watched, somewhat transfixed, as the Rangers unveiled the Marks on their skin. Krezbel could feel the power from their marks just as he felt the magic within him stirring in response. A proper gentleman might have turned away from Maeve when she undid her vest, but Krezbel couldn’t look away from the mark on her skin.


Magic.


That’s what Maeve wanted to tell Krezbel. All of the Rangers had magic. Either it was given to them or they were born with it, Krezbel didn’t know. He certainly didn’t remember Maeve having such a mark as a child…but then again, Krezbel had barely remembered Maeve’s face as a child.


“Commander Maeve,” Krezbel began, struggling to find the right words to convey his thoughts. “What is it you wish to accomplish by telling me this?”


Krezbel had always known that magic existed. He had it within himself—though he never bothered to learn much more. All of the royal line did. However, the magic that had been so abundant from the time of his ancestors was now gone from his kingdom. Magic is now a sin. So what if the rangers also had magic? What did that change? Magic was still considered a blasphemy in Terra Sylvan; the elves were still their enemies. What could the Rangers hope to gain by exposing their secret now?


“You realize the consequences of your revelation, don’t you?” Krezbel asked tiredly. He didn’t want to be responsible for the safety of his rangers…as well as his realm. Krezbel already had enough on his shoulders as it was with the Elves. “If news of the Rangers ever got out, the Church won’t hesitate to act…to purge heretics.”


Just as they had done to the Green Priests. Krezbel grimaced.


The Tu Sylvans had managed to keep their power, by keeping their magic hidden so that most common people conveniently forgot that the royal blood carried magic. Only a select few still remembered. Krezbel had little doubt that the Church still remembered, but they had been content so long as the royals did not bring up the subject of magic. Such was the kingdom that Krezbel lived in.
 
Well, he wasn't angry. Or hurt. Or... surprised? It seemed almost like he was just weary of being presented with another small, unimportant issue, as though she was just another courtier there to curry favor with her monarch. Somehow that stung almost as bad as if he had ranted and thrown things and been angry at the thought of having heretics serve him. At least then she would have felt... no, that wasn't important. She swallowed her heart back down into her chest where it belonged, but didn't raise her face to him.


"We have never been purged before, your grace," She replied softly, her shoulders down and voice sounding very deflated. "The royal line and the Emerald Knights have been the only ones to know, with a few exceptions, for generations. I had only wished to accomplish my duties, as your Commander. I had failed you before, by not ensuring you were informed immediately, and thought it best to see you were as fully informed as possible in the shortest amount of time possible. This," here she gestured to her assembled Rangers, "is our past. We have no records, for such would be evidence against us. All we have are our songs and legends."


And our selves, she could have added. It was not only her past but her present and future she had showed him, almost the entirety of what the Rangers had and were. True, it was too much to hope for the youthful rapture she had watched with, soaking up every moment, but his passive response still disappointed her. True, he had been interested enough in their marks, and true it was that he had access to the finest plays and operas and entertainment around... oh, she was just a fool, and now felt it fully. Rangers were a relic of the past, hardly important enough to even get their barracks. She should have handled it better.


"But now that you understand us a bit better, your majesty, I thought you would better understand the requests we need to make," She continued, trying to keep her tone brusque and formal, like a good Commander. "Such as why we need to recruit far and wide, searching for another that the mark will... erm, mark. Why our horses are expensive. That sort of thing. Of course, I can bring the specifics to the treasurer, now that your grace knows why our budget is what it is. Apologies for taking up so much of your valuable time."
 
Krezbel tilted his head as he studied Maeve's downcast expression. "I didn't mean to fault you for your honesty, Commander Maeve. You've accomplished your duties by informing me of something I, as your King, should have been aware of...regardless of the risk that it might have incurred on the Rangers. For that, you have my gratitude."


Krezbel was also thankful that Lady Aithne had the foresight to remind Krezebel to kick everyone out of the throne room. There were several nobles present that were Church zealots and would have caused trouble for the Rangers should they learn of their magical heritage. Assessing the wildness of Maeve's outfit, as well as her formal tone, Krezbel couldn't help but crack a smile at the incongruity of it all. Despite her appearance, Maeve was still a girl underneath the layers of training.


"You should have more confidence in yourself, Commander Maeve. The contributions of the Rangers are an essential part of the Kingdom and it is the king's duty to ensure that his vassal's needs are attended for," Krezbel was amused by the fact that he ended up quoting his step-mother's words when he never really bothered listening to her before. How hypocritical of him. "You needn't be ashamed of taking my time, especially if it is a matter of importance to the Rangers. It's better than listening Lord Wilbur's rants, in any case."


Krezbel ignored the chuckles of one of his Emerald Knights. Some of them had found it vastly amusing when Krezbel had been forced by Lady Aithne to listen to Lord Wilbur's complaints. The guy was a regular Prima Donna in court and always had something to complain about. If Krezbel didn't know better, he would have thought his stepmother had been attempting to torture him.


"I'll admit, I've been a bit stressed as of late," Krezbel said honestly. "However, I apologize if I made it seem as if the Ranger's needs are unimportant. Certainly, I can understand the need for better horses...given the Ranger's recent decrease in numbers."


It was interesting to learn that the Rangers had to be chosen--marked--by magic. With the decline of magic in Terra Sylvan it was no wonder that they would need to extend their search for new members elsewhere. They were searching for another source of magic. Krezbel closed his eyes. Several times after his coronation, Krezbel had entertained thoughts of reviving the magic of Terra Sylvan...of overthrowing the Church and making Terra Sylvan the land it was when his ancestors had ruled. Of course, those had been mere fantasies...nothing more.


"I shall also send a couple of my Emerald Knights to ensure the safety of the Rangers while they search the vast lands for more members," Krezbel pointed at the Emerald Knight that had laughed at him. "You and a couple of your friends can accompany the Rangers."


"Wha--,"


"Since you seemed find the Ranger's situation entertaining, I assume you have no problems in aiding them in their search?"


The Emerald Knight scowled, but obediently bowed.


"I've also ordered the Scholars to research hidden passes through the mountains," Krezbel said. He had been meaning to talk to her about that. "Hopefully they will succeed as that will greatly aid in the mission I have assigned the Rangers. How are the preparations for that, by the way? Have you chosen the Rangers you would assign to the task?"


Krezbel wanted any information that the Ranger's could provide about the Elves fast. With the way things were heading, Lady Aithne would actually succeed in pushing Terra Sylvan to war with the Elves. As wise as his stepmother was, the woman also loved her children dearly and wanted bloody revenge for what was done to the previous Princes of Terra Sylvan. Krezbel couldn't blame her for her rage, but he wanted to avoid war with the Elves at any cost. If he could discover the reason the Elves were acting up, maybe he could nip the war at its bud.
 
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