Tear Tarnished Angel

Title: Inevitable Lastingness - Part One
Rating: This Chapter is G, Later parts will be Rated Higher.
Content Notes:

The life of Naerdiel, who would later become Nilec, the adopted daughter of the Camar'ian King. She who was the woman who seized the Dirian throne through her powers of prophecy, and who became ruthless enough to cause the man that loved her to break and fall to insanity. Shaped forever by her past, and twisted by the world she had to save, at one time, she was but a child. It's time that her story gets told.

Elearn of Camar'a are adult around 200 to 250 years of age. Adolescence starts at 130 to 150. Anything before then is considered a child, if that Ellearn child has had a normal upbringing among their own kind.

Warnings: None
Main Character/s: Naerdiel (Nilec)
Plot: Naerdiel's first impacting memory.


--

Cynteya Un ar hugain Spiritus

(1:21 3250)

Scrambling up an old tree, apologies half coming through teeth as the girl in her velvet dress managed to grab hand holds in the knotted trunk. Up into the branches she watched the boys run by looking for her. The ancient tree moved its upper branches, leaves cascading over her and she laughed as the tree concealed her from sight. The little one was only 35, and the boys were older, angry at her for messing up their game. She felt at the pocket inside her velvet dress at the little metal figures of soldiers and horses she had stolen to play with. Her family did not have money for metal things, so she had to take them. But her parents would not be happy that her velvet dress had a tear in it, as it was the most expensive clothes she had. Naerdiel hugged the tree in thanks for hiding her, and brought out the metal figures to play war with.


( More Inside! )

Eventually the boys caught her; she could not stay hidden in the branches of trees forever. They came upon her kneeling by a tree, using the knots as platforms for the little metal archers, and men on horses were scattered on the ground.There were three separate painted metal armies, already some had fallen over, apparently dead. She was speaking in hushed tones, but in different voices as the largest of the metal figures of each color made out their tactics. The boys stopped and watched her, a single metal figure of no color falling in, and behind the yellow figures. Naerdiel looked up when a step was taken toward her, and she stood in a hurry knocking over some of the brown painted figures as her skirts swirled, and eyes widened. She had never really had friends; her family did not live near the capitol within the Mellimel’disiel. Her father was a ranger, a guard for the forest from the humans beyond. Her mother knit, and made clothes to sell in market. Both were young, still in that first stage of marital bliss with their only child.


The eldest boy stepped forward looking from her to the elaborate game she had set up to play. He looked back to the other boy who shrugged, and he gestured to the few that had fallen when she had spun to her feet. She looked back, and down to them before looking back to the boys, not understanding why they were not mad at her.
“Can we play with you?” one of them asked.

Naerdiel’s green eyes blinked at them, but she nodded with a wide smile, and she dropped back down onto her knees. Picking up the figures that had fallen, standing them back where they should have been. “This army thinks that it can attack when there is little light and ambush this one,” pointing from the yellow figures to the brown. “But they don’t know that this army is approaching too!”

Pointing to the green painted figures, and the younger boy’s head tilted, “What will they do?”

Naerdiel shifted looking between the three painted metal armies, and to the two boys who she hoped could become her friends. “They will wait. When the yellow are attacking the brown, the green will strike and take out both sides.”

There was surprised silence for a moment from both, but the older boy nodded, pointing up to the archers, “They should do cover fire when the yellow, and brown are fighting, make it harder to focus.”

The younger boy took up position by the brown figures, whilst the older boy without being told to do so, took up position by the yellow ones. Naerdiel smiled and she stayed where she was, in perfect position to use the green metal figures.

“The yellow army thinks they can attack with little light,” the older boy began to move his figures across the field sneaking up on the yellow figures.

The three moved their play pieces into position, advancing them, watching as the battle began, and figures started being knocked over. They laughed as their arms, and elbows bumped into each other as they reached to do things with the toys. They all gave their orders to their troops, and laughed more at the different voices made by each person for the horse riders, archers, and warriors.

As the last of the metal figures keeled over, Naerdiel clapped her hands giggling, “Now let’s switch!”
“I’ll be yellow this time, and then you can be green,” Naerdiel continued, and the eldest nodded with a grin, and they switched positions.


Between switching armies, and coming up with new strategies they played for many hours, putting their minds together to find new ways of defeating the other color groups of metal soldiers. But as the sun began to set through the trees, and shadows lengthened, Naerdiel nearly squeaked, and surged to her feet. She looked a little torn, eyes off toward home, and then back to the boys.

“I have to get home, but can we play again soon? I want to play war with you more!”

The Eldest boy nodded, standing to his feet, “I’m Thaldon, and this is my brother Locien. We will meet you here again tomorrow! But what is your name?”

Neardiel wiggled a little with glee, and then she stepped away, “I’m Neardiel.... I’ll meet you here tomorrow.”

“Neardiel?” The eldest boy’s brows furrowed and he made a bit of a face. That name...
“We will meet you tomorrow then.”
Thaldon grasped his younger brother’s hand, helping Locien up, and they began to pick up the figures as the girl ran, skipping over roots, and around trees back toward her home.

“Thaldon?"
The younger sibling, Locien, had scrunched his brow, blonde bangs falling over,“Doesn’t her name mean...?”

Thaldon licked his lips, and put metal figures into his pockets, green eyes looking to his brother’s blue, “Lady of Sorrows.”

“Why would she be given a name like that? That’s not very nice.”

“I don’t know Locien, maybe because of what her parents saw of her destiny?”

There was only silence as they finished picking up the pieces, thinking about their own names, and their meanings from the glimpse their parents had been given into their webs of fate at birth. They began their walk home...

Why would anyone call their daughter, Lady of Sorrows?

Title: Loving this way
Prompt: Jealousy
Rating: (Pg-13)
Content Notes: These two, oh these two. They love each other so dearly, so deeply but they just have to let go.
Inspired by Collin Raye's Loving this Way. The story Please Don't Leave Me comes before this.

Warnings: None
Main Character/s: Mallie Quele, Kallion ap'Eibhlhin
Plot: Love and a relationship left behind.
Location: Dire Cry Castle

--

“I...I think we should start seeing other people Kallion.”

The words held a weight that even with the knowledge they were coming still made shoulders sag and throat go dry.

“I’m...not what you want, I’m not what you need,” the words were soft, tired and hurt, and Kallion starred at Mallie as her hands wrung.

“That’s not true,” Kallion responded with immediately larger hands taking up hers and she shook her head, thick black curls falling into her face.

“I don’t want to love like this anymore, I’ve tried, we’ve tried...Can...We still be friends?” It was asking too much she knew but earnest green eyes looked through curls at the man she had loved sense she had been a child.

( Story Inside )

Title: It took the Death of Hope to let you go...
Rating: (R)
Content Notes/Warnings: You couldn't hate enough to love, and you ripped me apart when you refused to fight.

A memory within a dream is a prelude to this, explaining Drefan and Riq'ua's relationship.

Drefan the antagonist in my novels had a long road to the day when he loses his mind which is told in Love is never gentle and Grief gives way to Hate This story is one of the steps that lead him toward insanity.

Warnings: Child Abuse, Violence

Main Character/s: Drefan Robert Royale, Riq'ua Riviria
Plot: Drefan finally tells Riq'ua why he is so scarred, so skittish, and hopes are crushed to dust when Riq'ua tells him he lies.
Location: illander castle, illander city.

--

Bloodied fists hang loosely by sides, eyes that brimmed with darkness; black pits slowly are turning back to the midnight blue.

What have I done?

The evidence is clear, Riq’ua lies in a pool of his own blood, and there had been barely any noise to give rise to what was going on in the Elven Lord’s bedchambers. Where once anger mixed with bitterness there was only confusion, despair and betrayal.

I trusted you! I gave you everything! I gave you my heart, you wear my soul in the black diamond around your throat and even after everything I would have given my body to you. I was willing to give you all of me, but you scorned me. You think I lied?! You asked me how I had such scars, rope burns around my throat and stigma marks through my hands, Hahahaha, you say I lied?!!
( Story Inside )

Title: Moving on.
Prompt: Depression
Rating: (PG)
Content Notes/Warnings: Follows after When I die lay your head down but move on... 8 years after the novel’s ending.
Warnings: Mentions of Past M-Preg, Past Character Death, Past Under-age Love.

Main Character/s: Damion Ante, Joscelin Quele Ante, mentions of Nathanial Peter Quele Royale
Plot: 8 years after Nathanial’s death, Damion still tries to move on.
Location: illander Castle, Capitol of Camar'a.


“Watch me Papa!”

The untroubled laughter was pure, Damion’s lips curving into a smile as he settled against the wall of the training room. Joscelin always forgot he was blind, but that was due to the old vampire’s ability to still see the blood inside of living creatures, people at the least he could see. Watching through the blood sight his son take the steps and twirl into the air coming down and landing as far as he could tell with limited sight, perfectly.

“You have been training very hard my son,” Damion grinned in the direction of the young form that was wiggling on the spot from the praise.

( More Story Inside )

This was a look into James' mind when Nilec and he were taking over Dire Cry, a look into a man who was breaking inside because of his love for a woman who hated him and only wanted to make him King for the sake of Destiny.

James Red Rose Quele Cross loved her with all his undead heart, but she scorned him so, used him, and he could not understand why...

Every tale has two sides, this is James's.

Warnings: Violence.

---

Why is it her approval matters to me? Means so damn much to me?

An odd thing to be questioning as one rips into and apart brigands with bare hands and claws, but James’s was random at best these days and the lack of water had perhaps fried some of his thought process for good.

She thinks I can rule this land? A country of backward people who kill each other for power, kill each other for the sacred blood that runs through their veins because that is the only water they can find? Nilec my wife you are insane, absolutely crazy. Me? A vampire ruling a desert, can you not see a problem with that?!

A primal growl and James shook himself standing over the body of five men who he had downed, blazing red eyes staring out toward the ruins ahead of him. More would come, flexing his hands, long curved claws scratching at each other as he watched the men in the ruins mount their horses.

Come to me...

( Story Inside )

This was a study on environment description for myself, and also a study of a culture on my world that was destroyed 28 years ago.This is in the third person omniscient point of view.

If you have a few extra minutes I would appreciate you taking a peek.

This does have some violent imagery.
-----------------------------

They had not been a people of walls. The city had been unprotected that day, a day of celebration and enjoyment. A wedding was planned for the next and the city guard was lax.
 

Twenty eight years had passed. It has retained the beauty it had once had, this city that had been named aptly, Beaulieu, Beautiful place in their tongue.
 

 

( More inside )