Behind the Facade

Alrighty. Here goes.

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Prologue:
A Harmonious Cry



“NO!” the young girl of only eight screamed, running to her father, the prince’s side. She fell to his frozen feet, weeping. “What did you do to him?”
The magician stepped up behind the raven haired child and silently placed her hand on the child’s shoulder. “I did what I must,” she explained, “by order of the King, your uncle.”
The girl turned and her cold blue eyes prodded the magician’s mind for an answer as to why this was done. “It wasn’t his fault. Did the King know that?” She pointed an accusing finger at the woman. “He was only helping; giving the empire a greater name. I bet the King was too caught up in his sins to even notice!” The child knew more than thought possible. She was wiser beyond her years, yet she was still young and innocent, she would never find a way to prove her point.
The magician found that she could not defend her stand; her hand fell from the girl’s delicate shoulder. “I’m sorry, but you are wrong.” She turned and left, leaving the girl there crying by her father’s feet.

The next morning the girl’s mother found her asleep still at her father’s feet. Her breathe was rough and ragged like it is when you cry yourself to sleep. The woman bent down and lightly picked up the girl and carried her back to their home. “I don’t like it either, but it’s what must be done,” she whispered, encouraging herself as much as her daughter.
On her way to their home she noticed the magician standing on the other side of the clearing where her husband stood. The magician was singing, her perfect soprano voice resonating.

“One stone of true magic be,
Two keys, pure of royalty,
Three rings, objects in each,
Quietly hidden within the impeach,

“Two lips so pale as waning stars,
Two eyes, one head so dark,
In semblance to a sky without,
One in radiance is the only route,”

She paused momentarily, sitting down up against a mighty oak.

“Down is up and up is down,
Three thousand hide behind the crown,
Up or down, down or up?
Blood hidden within the cup,

“But true we know,
The horn shall never blow,
Which wakes the master,
Hidden deep within the aster.”

Then she came to a close; the song complete. The magician played with a piece of wolfe-bane in her fingers, never noticing the woman with the child.
The woman smiled and disappeared deep into the trees, towards her home. She now knew the secret and so would her daughter, one day to reveal it and with it bare her father’s freedom; or peril.



Chapter I
Dark Memories



Lacara crouched behind a bush on the side of the road. Her eyes shown green in the dark night. She watched as a note was handed by a royal messenger to the mysterious cloaked man. Who is he? She wondered to herself. Suddenly the man vanished. The messenger gasped, but shrugged his shoulders and road off into the darkening horizon.
This wasn’t the first time Lacara had chanced upon this mysterious person. The first time was only about two weeks earlier. She had been just taking a walk when she heard someone behind her. She ducked behind a tree as the man walked past. She didn’t know who he was, but she was determined to find the answer and pull off his façade. But it was getting late and her mother would be worried. The seventeen year old girl ran back to her small home.
The simple two room hut stood in the middle of the Karita forest. The densely packed wood consisted of tall oaks and mighty maples and many other trees of both coniferous and deciduous. Strange animals tended to roam in the dull light of the Karita. Therefore Lacara was used to keeping her eyes alert to any unusual movement, but she was in love with the vast spread of trees. It was her home.
After about fifteen minutes of hard running she came to the humble cottage. It fit well in its surroundings. The house was made primarily of branches, leaves, and compressed mud. After her father disappeared when Lacara was only ten, it was all they could afford. But it was sturdy and fit the small family’s needs. Quietly, she opened the door and stepped inside the dark home. With soft footsteps she made her way around the table in the main room and into the second small room where she, her baby brother, and her mother slept. She found her bed roll and lay down. Slowly, after much thought about the mysterious man, she fell asleep.
The next morning Lacara opened her eyes, well rested. Outside she heard a single bird calling its mate. It was quiet, still; too quiet. Her mother must still be in bed and her baby brother must be asleep, also. Any other morning her mother would be up making breakfast by this time. Lacara pondered this for a moment until she decided she’d better check on her brother. Sleepily, she stood up, noting her mother wasn’t in her bed, and walked over to her brother’s cradle. It sat against the opposite wall where her and her mother’s beds lay. There Talien, or Taka as they called him, slept peacefully. Taka struggled against an invisible foe in his dream, as Lacara smiled. She walked out into the main room where a dull light shown through the single window in the room, which faced east towards the riding sun. The room was empty, her mother wasn’t there. Her long legs strode to the door and she peered out. Her mother didn’t seem to be outside, either. She must have gone for a walk or in search of herbs, she thought as she brushed away the doubts that tried to smother her mind.
Lacara eased her worries by taking care of Taka and making breakfast for herself. But it wasn’t hours later until her mother returned. Jaode walked through the door, her black hair knotted and her tan skin was white as if she had seen the dead walking. She had just made it through the door hen she collapsed, barely making it into a chair. “Mother?” Lacara said anxiously, comforting the crying Taka. Her mother didn’t respond. Lacara lay the crying baby down on a quilt that was spread across the dirt floor and she quickly walked over to her mother. “Mother?” she repeated. The young woman carefully pushed back her mother’s long black hair from her eyes. “Lacara,” Jeode started putting her hand on her daughter’s shoulder. Her mother’s blue eyes were clouded as if some vision of the past or future was playing in from of them. “Take your brother and get out of here. Don’t look back.” She stared straight into her daughter’s eyes, so like her own, but had the color of her father‘s. “But mother,” Lacara began to argue. Suddenly there was a loud noise outside the hut’ some sort of scream mixed with loud laughter. “It will soon be too late. Get out of here,” her mother commanded sternly. Lacara didn’t question her this time.
She grabbed a sack in which she tossed some bread and salted pork. She ran to the other room and grabbed a small purse of coins and stuffed them into the bag. From beside her bed, she snatched her tattered black cloak and pinned it on. Hurriedly, she made her way back to the other room as she shrugged the small pack onto her back and picked up the ever crying Taka. “Mother,” Lacara said clutching Jaode’s hand with her free hand. “Come with us, please.” Jaode merely shook her head. “Don’t leave by the door, they’ll see you. The back window…” Jaode motioned towards the other room. Lacara nodded, understanding. Tears filled her eyes as she ran to the window. Hushing Taka, she began to crawl out of the window. She heard heavy footsteps getting closer to their home. Lacara, even more frightened, began to run. She held Taka close, not looking back.
Behind her she heard screams; the screams of her frightened mother. Lacara turned around. No longer could she spot the house in the dense wood, but she could smell smoke and see an orange glow about the tree tops. “Mother,” Lacara cried. She fell to her knees weeping. Now she could make out laughing; loud cruel laughing. And it was getting laugher who ever it was coming their way. Soon she found her footing and began to run again, as fast as her feet would guide her. Lacara didn’t know which was left or right, but she knew she had to get away from there, fast.
 
Chapter II
A Weary Path



Lacara woke in a cold sweat, sitting up abruptly. “It was just a dream,” she reassured herself. The past few nights she had been having the same dream over and over. She had no idea why her mind suddenly decided to play the cruel event of her past in her mind. That was three years ago. She was now twenty years old, no twenty-one; today was her birthday, she remembered. But just like any other year, it would just be forgotten. Lacara glanced across the room to where the four-year-old, Taka, slept. Ever since that horrific event in her life she had taken care of herself and her young brother, by any means necessary. They lived in a rented room off of a farm house. However, this month her rent was due, and she knew it, but she didn’t’ have the money right now. It was either the room or the food. Lacara ignored the rumbling of her stomach even then. She looked out the window at the dark night sky; at the position of the moon. It was a little past midnight, she figured. She lay back down and closed her eyes but her mind was running too much for her to sleep. She rolled her eyes, agitated, and rolled over to the other side of her bed. She couldn’t sleep there either. Sighing, she stood up and grabbed her black cloak from the floor and slipped on her boots. Then she quietly opened the door and snuck silently out of the house. For fear she would wake the owners.
She stood on the porch; lost in thought. Lacara looked down the dirt road. She began to follow it, her feet leading her wherever they wished. She walked a while until she came to the mouth of the woods, which where to the north of the house. Sighing evocatively, she continued, ignoring he fact that she was returning to the place of her past. She followed where the road took her. All of a sudden she heard footsteps behind her. Quietly, she ducked out of the way, just in time to be hidden from a cloaked figure walking up the road. Lacara gasped; it was the man. She had not seen him since that dreadful night. He must not have seen me, she thought, wiping the beads of sweat forming on her brow. She stood up, turning to go back to her home, the spare room.

The next morning Lacara was awoken by a knock on the door. She rolled over and smashed her pillow over her ears. “Go away,” she mumbled sleepily, but the knocking persisted, even with her best effort to block it out with the pillow. “Lacara, open up!” came a muffled voice from the opposite side of the door. Lacara got up and opened the door. There standing in the doorway was the lady of the house, Beatrice.
“Lacara, the rent’s late again and I don’t appreciate people sneaking out of the house at an ungodly hours of the nights,” Beatrice scolder her like she was a child.
“I’m sorry. I’ll get you the money. Just give me three more days, please?” Lacara pleaded.
Beatrice sighed, “I can’t afford to keep letting you off the hook.”
Lacara remained silent, knowing the woman with the matted gray curls, slatted hazel eyes, and oversized waist would continue, but she kept to pleading with her eyes.
“One more day, that’s it! I’ll give you until tomorrow.” With that Beatrice walked away.
“Thank you!” Lacara yelled over top of the loud footfalls of the elderly woman. Lacara wearily changed into her best gown; a sage-green satin dress with sheer sleeves and a crème bodice. Next, she slipped on a pair of crème slippers, which she happened to have “found” at the market, and pinned up her long black curls of ebony. She walked over to where her brother lay sleeping. “Taka,” she whispered. The boy rolled over. He sleeps like I do. She smiled at the thought. “Taka, don’t make me tickle you.” And just like that the boy sat up wide awake.
“It’s time to go,” she said sighing. Lacara bent down and picked up the sleepy boy. She would have to take him, like always. Worry consuming her again, she walked through the open door and out into a hall and down to the dinning room of the farm house. She walked past Beatrice and her husband, past the huge cherry table where they sat. But still silence filled the house. She kept her head down to not meet either of their sidelong glances. All she could do, to push back the criticizing thoughts that she knew they would be saying about her, was to stare at the simple wood floor and critic every little crease. Soon, but not soon enough, her eyes met the bottom of the plain maple door. She led her coal eyes up the door and found the gold brushed door knob. Her pale fingers lightly caressed the chilled metal. Quickly, she turned it and stepped out once again onto the porch, pulling the door back into its place. Lacara crossed the shaded porch and stepped out on to the dirt road before the house, casting her eyes up. “To the palace,” she whispered. Her mission was engraved in her head; find the city, enter the castle, beg for money in petty court. It was still the early hours of light, but she still had to keep up her pace to make it there before late afternoon. Within a few minutes of the tranquil trek Taka’s body relaxed in a peaceful sleep.
At about noon, Lacara caught sight of the village, gray and brown buildings sitting on the foot of a great mountain which reached up into the clouds. The palace sat just on the other side of the village, up against the Cliffs of Rufania; their many waterfalls feeding into the aqua ducts which provided the city with water. Lacara’s arms were now worn from carrying her brother, who had woken once, then lost interest in walking and went back to his dreamland. Her legs were sore from walking to top that off.



Chapter III
Royalty


When Lacara finally reached the outskirts of the village, an hour or so later, she put Taka on the ground to walk and she paced towards the palace. They passed houses, mostly run down, but a few were nice enough, but she didn’t take time to look and they pushed on. As the two reached deeper into the village they neared the markets. She admired the stalls of food, clothing, jewels, and such items from afar, not daring to come close enough to touch them. Lacara took Taka’s hand in hers as they disappeared in the crowd of various people. Merchants called her to purchase their sales, but she ignored the chanting voices. Knowing she didn’t have the time or money to buy what they offered, she pushed away the wanting feeling. Even though her stomach begged desperately for food she continued. She made her way like this until she came to the open palace gate. The gate stood tall, thirty feet high or so, and gracefully built. Carvings of war scenes and various people in marvelous clothing were depicted across the alabaster wood. Taka stopped and stared at it all. The palace sat behind, basking in the pure sunlight. Its gray stone caught between the green of the gardens around it. The gardens were as colorful as a rainbow. Red and black was scattered across banners and flags of all sorts; the royal colors. Forcing herself towards the marvelous palace, she knew she must take care of the tasks at hand.
Soon, Lacara found that her beaded slippers treaded across the small brown river stones that lay on the footpath that lead into the palace. Her eyes looked over at the road that so often a knight and his horse would trout as they left in search of glory. But now no knights were to be seen; only guards dressed in the royal colors and merchant carts sat littering the palace road. Again, Lacara caught herself in a day dream and she returned her mind to where she walked. Soon, she found, her and Taka came to a small alabaster footbridge. Lacara looked up from her feet to see a woman in beautiful court clothes crossing the bridge from the opposite side. Never once did the woman even glance at Lacara. It was then that the young woman decided she disliked royalty very much.
Continuing on, they finally came to the open double mahogany doors which would direct straight into the palace. A guard stood on either side, armor shielding their faces as they stood as still as statues. Lacara’s lips once again formed a smile. She couldn’t believe her eyes. The interior was astounding. The floor was made of black marble and the walls of an even grander stone of a red tint which she could not name.
 
I'll try to post some today, k? It could be a difficult task. We had to do corn today... But every second I get to sneak off I'll write. ;) I've really been iching to write... and read. :rolleyes: I went to Boarders yesterday and got a couple new books. MMMM... new book smell. ;)
 
that is a wonderful smell. esp when it means you have a book you have never read b4. Yay new books!!!! i am waiting for mine from Amazon. Snail mail...
 
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