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♦Darian Alistair

Darian

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Consumed Apr 26, 2015 21:17:57 GMT Christian Byzantir likes this

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Post by Darian Alistair on Apr 26, 2015 21:17:57 GMT

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The library was eerily silent. Very few scholars could be found lurking behind the bookcases these days – not many were willing to make the pilgrimage to Byzantir, not in these dark times.

Darian Alistair, member of the King’s Guard, stood alone in front of a great oak table. He leaned heavily against the solid wood, palms pressed against the worn grain. In front of him a large, yellowed map of Escar lay unfurled. The map was old; the edges curled in upon themselves, cringing away from the light of the candles around him. In places the ink had begun to fade, and deep wrinkles snaked their way from one edge to another creating new boarders through the realm.

His eyes scanned the heavy parchment again. He had been studying this map for many nights now. Even he was unsure what he hoped to find. A careful hand had noted down the sites of many great battles – wars fought in valleys and fields, upon mountain ridges and hilltops. In his mind he had travelled each route countless times. So much so he almost felt as though he had been there himself. The man hoped something here – some small detail – would help in the days to come. Some insignificant triviality might prove to be the difference between slaughter and salvation.

A stack of musty old tomes lay just outside the pool of light cast by the candle an attendant had brought in some time ago. Darian couldn’t be sure how long he had been in the great library – as soon as he had been relieved of duty by one of the other members of the King’s Guard he had come here, as he had done every night this week. Spare moments were becoming harder and harder to come by, and he knew he should be using those few precious moments to sleep. When the war finally burst there would be no time for such things. But he found rest eluded him every night. His mind constantly whirred as he lay staring up at the roof of the barracks. His thoughts would not quiet – instead it crafted military tactics, considered new angles of attack, and devised new defensive lines. Even when he did manage to sleep, his dreams were consumed with ideas of protecting the kingdom and it’s people. It was already too late for some. They had been too slow to react, too blind to the outer edges of the kingdom.

Reaching forward, he dragged one of the candles closer to a portion of the map depicting a mountain path. Had some long dead captain not managed to hold off an enemy horde by restricting their movement through those narrow channels? The man reached passed the candles and selected one of the books, sliding it out from among its fellows and quickly thumbed through the dusty pages, searching for more detail.

As his finger traced a path down the long passages the delicate black script danced in front of his eyes in the light of the candle. He paused, scrunched his eyes closed and rubbed his forefinger and thumb against his eyelids. The strain was getting to him. He had never been much of a reader, and poring over reams and reams of words was starting to wear on his eyesight. His hand travelled down his face, rasping against the stubble growing unchecked along his jawline.

He needed rest. He needed a respite. What he really needed was a distraction…even if only for a moment. Something to draw his mind away from his tactics so he could come back at it with fresh eyes.

♦Zuri Orus

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Consumed Apr 30, 2015 14:57:00 GMT

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Post by Zuri Orus on Apr 30, 2015 14:57:00 GMT

For the first time Zuri felt safe. The walls of the palace offered protection that her home in Orus did not. The thick stone walls were nearly impenetrable and the continuous presence of the king’s guard on the streets provided a sense of calm and reassurance that Zuri hadn’t experienced in quite a long time.
With her worries at bay, she had taken up reading again. As a child she could lose herself between the pages of dusty tomes and find her face pressed against those very books in the morning hours. Before she married into wealth she had nothing but her imagination to pull her away from the daily routine of weaving and dress making. The art, while enjoyable, had become burdensome and she longed for escape. Running away into the darkened woods of Escar hadn’t been the most practical option, so instead she took up a novel, and then another until she couldn’t put them down.

Her latest prey, an autobiography, rested in her arms as she weaved between the mahogany shelves in search of another author. Her owlish, chestnut brown eyes flitted between the titles in awe. Her private library in Orus paled in comparison to the Great Library. The collection of novels, fiction and nonfiction were a tad bit overwhelming. How was she to choose with so many options?

Perhaps she’d settle for her autobiography. Written about a painter and knight named Sir Demetri Endres, it chronicled his life story as he battled both ruthless enemies on the field and a more challenging opponent at home, a blank canvas. The contrast intrigued her. Perhaps it was frivolous reading. Perhaps she could find other ways to make herself useful, but with the pressures of daily life weighing down on her from all sides she needed these short moments of respite to keep her sanity. She need not feel guilty, yet she did at times.

Rarely did she come across anyone while browsing. On the rare occasion that she did she’d bob a polite curtsey and continue on her way. However, during her brief strolls through the library recently, she’d come upon a man tucked away in the less traveled areas of the library. He appeared to be deep in thought as he scanned a large bit of parchment spread wide across an oak table. From her hiding place in the shadows she couldn’t make out exactly what it was that held his attention.

Her own foolish trepidation eclipsed the curiosity that burrowed within her and she remained in the dark. The day before she saw him again. This time he appeared frustrated and tired as he rubbed his dark, brooding eyes. She knew she shouldn’t watch him secretly. Being a lady she should make her presence known, but she discovered that spying on a man, who was clearly abled-bodied and undeniably dangerous, while he remained none the wiser, was exhilarating. It was a bit of devilish fun; until she was discovered of course.

The soft, pulsing glow of flickering candlelight lead her to his sanctuary. She thought to remain hidden to watch him, again, from a distance. She’d allow her childish imagination to toy with the possibilities of the briefest encounters with such a man. Never in her wildish dreams would she approach him for fear of invoking the very responses she day dream about. Yet, it seemed, fate would defy her. As she shifted forward to get a better view of the map; yes a map, she could see it now; her emerald green dress snagged a rather large splinter on one of the bookshelves. Hobbling forward, she yelped before she could stop herself. Her autobiography thundered to the ground at her feet as she caught herself against the shelf frame. Breathless and bit embarrassed, she knew her game was finally over. You’d have to be both blind and deaf not to notice her.

“Pardon me. I’m sorry to disturb you.” She said, bowing low. Her husband would chastise her for the gesture. She was a lady now. She bowed to no one, especially not a commoner, but old habits die hard. She knelt to retrieve her book and tucked it casually back in the crook of her arm.

Tag: Darian Alistair

♦Darian Alistair

Darian

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Consumed Apr 30, 2015 19:08:29 GMT

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Post by Darian Alistair on Apr 30, 2015 19:08:29 GMT

His finger traced a slow, deliberate path down the twists and tangles of letters on the page. No one could ever accuse the man of being bookish, but at times like this he almost wished he were – he had known scholars and young lords who could fly through the dense lines of text like a fish through water, but he was not so lucky. Each paragraph was a chore, each passage a struggle. But he was determined. There must be something useful hidden within these pages somewhere.

Getting through the written words in front of him required a fair bit of his concentration, so it was no surprise he remained unaware of the girl skulking behind him. If his subconscious picked up any trace of noise behind him, it immediately dismissed it. It wasn’t until she gave a startled cry that he became aware of her for the first time. One finger lingered on the page, marking his place, as he twisted his head to peer over his shoulder.

The woman was unfamiliar to him, but it was becoming more and more commonplace for him to not recognize faces within the city. With nobles fleeing to Byzantir for protection, he could hardly be expected to know every new face. As the lords and ladies trickled into the city he would come across them at the castle – a few would even be formally introduced to members of the King’s Guard. These highborn people were the ones to watch out for, the ones who needed protection. Lately it seemed as though there were too many people to protect, and not enough actual protectors left. But still they were doing their best to make each visitor feel as though they had finally reached a safe place…even though that was far from the truth these days.

His brow furrowed for a moment as he tried to find a name for the woman, but nothing sprang to mind. She was dressed too finely to be a commoner, made all the more unlikely seeing as they were inside the Great Library. But still he did not know her. Perhaps she was a visiting noble and he had not yet been introduced to her. With all the comings and goings it was impossible to keep track of how many people he had yet to meet. It would be best to just assume she was someone of importance until proven otherwise.

He had just turned to face her properly, a question of concern on his lips when she bowed low, stopping his voice before he had even uttered a sound. Surely a noble would know better than to bow to him. Even though he shrugged off some of the trappings of his uniform in the barracks before hurrying over, there was no doubt of his station. And yet the look of her suggested someone of a high standing. So why would she bow to him?

”Not at all,” he paused, considering, My lady.” he added. If she wasn’t a noble after all, she would likely be flattered. If she was a noble hopefully she wouldn’t notice his slight hesitation. The last thing he needed was another reprimand – his ego and honour were already bruised enough at present.

The heavy book on the ground caught his eye. That would be the source of that loud bang then. He had only taken a step or two towards her, meaning to retrieve her book from the ground, when she bent down to pick it up herself. He stopped dead in his tracks, again confused.

“Are you alright?” he asked. Looking around he failed to see what had made her shout in the first place. Perhaps she had tripped over a book left on the floor, or walked into the edge of the bookcase. There was no way for him to know, everything outside the small circle of light cast by his candles remained hidden in the semi-darkness. But if everything behind him still remained in shadows, what had she been doing back there at all?

Tag: Zuri Orus

♦Zuri Orus

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Consumed May 1, 2015 20:49:40 GMT

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Post by Zuri Orus on May 1, 2015 20:49:40 GMT

Zuri glanced briefly at her gown at the man's question. Sure enough there was a small tear where her dress had ripped. She shifted awkwardly to the side to take in the full extent of her clumsiness. Her gown was thin and only a sheer slip showed beneath the fabric. Luckily, much wasn't exposed but even the tiny rip made her feel naked. Grimacing, she turned her attention back the man taking care to turn just so as to not to expose herself further.

"No, I'm fine. I'm just...well, I didn't know there was a splinter there and well..." She paused, considering her words. It was unlike her to ramble and stutter, especially over such a small thing as this. She inhaled and smiled gently. "It is nothing. Just a minor mistake on my part. I'm sorry to have intruded."

No, she wasn't actually. Her curiosity continued to tug at her urging her forward. Steadily she stepped forward, her hands grasping the book in her hands. The candle light danced against her skin giving it a soft, honey glow. Pressing her lips together for a moment in thought, she gazed upward into the man's eyes. "Honestly, I'm quite curious as to this map you've been studying. I've seen you study it for quite some time." Did she just admit to secretly watching him? A light blush rose to her cheeks and she tried her best to ignore the burning heat rising upward from her chest. Glancing at the map, she surveyed it for a moment with eyebrows raised.

"What exactly do you hope to find hidden within the map of Escar?"

Tag: Darian Alistair

♦Darian Alistair

Darian

38 Posts × 6 Likes

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Consumed May 2, 2015 12:29:26 GMT

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Post by Darian Alistair on May 2, 2015 12:29:26 GMT

The woman remained half hidden from his sight in the flickering candlelight as she hung just at the edge of the pool of illumination. He saw her looked down to her gown, but at what he couldn’t be sure. From the way she now held herself he could tell whatever it was made her uncomfortable – a rip or hole in her fine dress would be his best guess.

The woman continued to confound him as she searched for words, stuttering and searching for an explanation. To him, it almost seemed as though she were deeply embarrassed. Surely disrupting the quiet of the library could not cause this much distress? Especially when he seemed to be the only one around to have heard the shout at all. He watched her with glassy, tired eyes, almost amused by her antics. The fact that she was so earnestly apologetic over such a small matter could only be described as sweet.

The look he offered her was not quite a proper smile, but at least it wasn’t the grimace that had become an almost permanent fixture on his features these days. ”You need not apologize so sincerely my lady,” he assured her. ”As you said, a mistake. Nothing more. A small disturbance, but by no means aggravating.” His eyes fell back to the spot she had looked down at herself earlier – probably where the splinter had caught her. ”Did it catch your skin at all?” A scratch was just a scratch, but if it had managed to cut her deeply it should be looked at – he had seen infection spread from less.

As she stepped forward into the light, he got his first proper look at her. She was beautiful, of course, but not in the same way many of the woman of Byzantir were. She was different somehow – the light played along her skin, showcasing the stunning honeyed colour. He also couldn’t help but notice how she still grasped the book between her hands, almost like a shield against him. He must look far more haggard than he had originally thought. Straightening up, he tried to banish the fatigue from his bones – pride would not permit him to appear anything less than impeccable in front of a lady.

The shock and surprise registered on his face before he could stop it. ”How long, exactly, have you been watching me?” Up until now, he had no idea that she had been there at all, hidden by the shadows of the tall bookcases. Embarrassment washed through him; how could he have not noticed someone observing him? Especially in a place like this where almost any small whisper seemed like a booming crash. He felt foolish indeed.

Still struggling with his wounded pride he looked back over his shoulder where the map laid spread across the table, the book still flopped open on top. If she had been able to observe his musings, who else had? Building a defence from these notes while any castle spy could wander up behind him and take note would do no good. He cast a calculating look at her, weighing the risk of telling her. If she had been watching him for any amount of time already, she likely already had some idea – between the books he chose to read, and the hushed mutterings he made to himself, it couldn’t be that much of a mystery. There was really nothing left to loose.

”I am just looking through old battle records,” he admitted begrudgingly. The map was marred with the names and dates of long ago conflicts, so he could hardly pass it off as anything else. ”I would do what I can to avoid the mistakes of the past…” he trailed off, stopping himself before he mentioned the upcoming battles he foresaw – no need to add undue distress.

”And you?” he asked. Normally he would never ask such an impertinent question to a noblewoman, but he desperately wanted to distract her from what he was doing. It was a very obvious attempt, but he felt he must at least try. ”What brings you were so late? Still adjusting to Byzantir?” He hoped his supposition that she was not from around here was true, otherwise he would look the fool.

Zuri Orus

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Post by Darian Alistair on Apr 26, 2015 21:17:57 GMT

Post by Zuri Orus on Apr 30, 2015 14:57:00 GMT

Post by Darian Alistair on Apr 30, 2015 19:08:29 GMT

Post by Zuri Orus on May 1, 2015 20:49:40 GMT

Post by Darian Alistair on May 2, 2015 12:29:26 GMT

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