The Clutch of Sharys: Chapter Fourteen
Chapter 14: An Overt Overshadowing
They found themselves slaughtered where they stood, for weapons give little succor against the scales of a Dragon.
The evening flew by as conversation broke out over excellent food, though Cara avoided any such discussion due to the advantage of sitting at the end of the table. It also helped that Loralei was kept in a hearty conversation with her neighbor, who seemed more than enthusiastic about his luck in company. Instead, Cara spent her time slipping morsels of food to the dragon in her lap, pushing food around her plate, and keeping her expression pleasantly vacant while desperately wishing for the festivities to end so she could return to her room.
As the light of day slowly slipped away over the distant hills, a couple of servants stepped forward, opening and closing their hands as though they held a book. Orbs of light flew out, floating above the feast hall and illuminating its occupants in their brilliant light, and Cara found herself wondering if she could recreate a similar effect on her own.
To Cara, it appeared the sun had been viciously yanked from behind the hills and hauled back into the hall where it hovered in dozens of blazing little balls of the heads of King and court.
The evening waned on as the dishes were swept away and replaced with platters of pastries, towers of fruits and candies, and near Cara's right hand, a platter containing what looked like pure snow. Curiosity getting the better of her, Cara scooped some of the puffy white mixture onto her plate, leaning forward slightly to sniff the contents. Down the table, a minor commotion broke out as a young dragon knocked over a tower of fruit, spilling more than a few glasses of wine and ruining at least one gown.
The dessert on her plate smelled of fruit and flowers simultaneously, further piquing Cara's curiosity as she scooped some up into a spoon and tried it. Her first taste of the cold mixture brought the mildest sweetness she had ever tasted dancing across her tongue, followed by the faintest hint of fruit and blossoms as she swallowed. Remembering her manners, Cara neatly but enthusiastically consumed the rest of the mixture on her plate, slipping a small amount down to her hatchling after she was nipped on the arm for not sharing.
She reached for the dish to get more, only to find that it had gone missing from near her arm. Cara craned her neck as she looked down the table to spot where it had been passed, weighing if she wanted seconds enough to socially interact with her fellow riders. "Lady Myzanti," Loralei's voice purred, snapping Cara's attention to her eyes, "It appears you've attracted an admirer." Cara followed her gaze across the hall to where the heirs sat at their long table, and a pair of bright green eyes were staring at Cara again, this time holding no small measure of amusement.
Wondering how long the Aspas girl had been watching her, Cara looked away, face hot after a few seconds of holding the woman's gaze. "I could make some introductions if you like.” Loralei offered. “My cousin can be… capricious... but she's lots of fun to be around once she warms up to you." She gave Cara a gentle smile as she finished speaking. Cara laughed slightly and shook her head, opening her mouth to reply when she was instantly cut off as the main doors to the hall flew open once more.
A giant, towering confection was wheeled into the hall, a decadent multi-tiered cake lavishly decorated with flowers and small animals wrought out of spun sugar and marzipan. As it was carefully brought before the king, Lady Manlis stood, shaking her golden tresses back as she addressed the monarch. "A gift, my king, from the finest cooks in Netis, specially crafted in celebration of you and your many powerful heirs. May your dynasty shine through the ages."
She had been seated at the table closest to the center of the room, a place that seemed to be reserved for the Generals and other beloved guests of the king. Cara had caught several glimpses of her sister's dark curls through the night, but Keti was largely obscured by the massive mound of dark red hair belonging to whoever sat across from her.
Clapping his hands with delight, the king stood and eagerly waved Lady Manlis up on the dais with him as the Royal Steward stepped forward to cut the cake. The instant the knife touched the pastry and sliced it open, a fountain of prismatic rainbow bubbles poured out, floating around the hall and filling the air overhead.
"What's this then?" The King's voice boomed out, followed by a chuckle as Kalatreal snapped in annoyance at the small spheres flying too close to its face.
"These, my love, are the true dessert! They’re a Cetnan delicacy called ‘Wisps of Fruit!’ Catch one in your mouth to try its flavor." Lady Manlis declared, her lovely face full of a sly pride.
Reaching a hand out, the king used a small gust of air to pop one of the spheres between his teeth, biting down and going momentarily silent. The whole of the hall froze as they watched his face screw up quickly in confusion before his expression relaxed, a delighted laugh issuing forth. "Genius!" He cried, and though it seemed no one else had even tried a single bubble, the hall broke out into raucous applause at his reaction.
As King Marckes sank back into his gilded throne, the rest of the hall relaxed, reaching out hands and powers to grab one of the thousands of bubbles that now floated through the banquet hall. Cara's dragon managed to get a taste before she did, the tiny creature scuttling her way up to Cara's shoulder and catching a sphere with a quick snap of her jaw. Waiting until a bubble passed by around the level of her face, Cara inhaled it into her mouth, crushing the globe between her teeth.
After the glowing review that the King and courtiers around her had given it, Cara expected some extraordinary delicacy that blew the mind to unknown heights of flavor. Instead, the treat tasted more of empty air and something vaguely analogous to a fruity flavor. It was like the bubbles had been formed in the same room as someone who was dreaming of fruit, all air, and no substance.
Cara must've had a rather nasty expression after tasting her bubble because Loralei took one look at her face and burst out into quiet giggles. "They're wretched, aren't they?" She whispered to Cara, a knowing smile on her lips. "Lady Manlis likes them because they 'impart the flavor of sweets without going to one's hips,' but I doubt anyone truly likes them." Cara cast a wary eye across the hall to the many nobles and merchants consuming the bubbles and crying out praises to the King and his mistress.
"Oh, don't mind them; they’re just trying to curry favor." Loralei said dismissively, following her gaze, "The king could tell them to eat dirt, and they would praise its depth of flavor." Cara snorted as the young man on the other side of Loralei guffawed at her statement. "Truer words have never been spoken." The young man said pleasantly, casting a quick eye over Cara while he spoke.
Cara shook her head, poking one bubble away when it nearly flew into her eye. "Sycophants, the lot of them." She murmured, drawing another giggle of agreement from Loralei. "You know." The girl said, leaning into Cara with a mischievous smile, "I heard that it was Lady Manlis' idea to have the heirs called to court at the same time as the trial happened." Cara looked over at her in surprise, her shock delighting the young noblewomen.
"Why would she do that? Why wouldn't she want the spotlight not to be shared between her heirs and the others instead of with the new riders?" Cara asked. Arching a delicate eyebrow, Loralei replied, "Why indeed? Why bother to share something so important like the attention of King and court….unless you were hoping to overshadow someone else in the process?" Her eyes flicked towards the end of the heir's table, where Prince Kimon sat.
"Kimon? What'd he do?" Cara inquired. "Besides being a smooth horned uptight prick." She added mentally, throwing in the aerie-yard insult implied he was snobbish. "It's not so much anything His Highness has done." The yet nameless young man from Loralei's side responded, "But rather…" he trailed off slyly, looking up at Loralei, who finished "Who his mother is."
Cara pinched her lips, glancing back over to the long table. The heirs had largely divided up seats according to their houses, and Kimon looked miserable sitting amongst his siblings of House Kalatis. "I take it the Lady Kalatis is not an admirer of the exuberant Lady Manlis?" She asked, lowering her voice slightly.
Loralei nodded sagely, her smile perking up at the corners as though she had a joke in mind. "I should say not. Rather nasty exchange the two of them had over the summer, isn't that right, Lord Rusker?" She addressed the young man sitting to her right, who inclined his head in agreement with her words. "In fact-"
The rest of Loralei's court gossip abruptly ended as the King stood once more, snapping his fingers. The hall fell silent as the side doors flew open again, this time admitting four of the crown's servants. Carrying a carved wooden chest in each of their arms, the men and women who served the king came to a stop in front of the new riders, opening the lids of their boxes.
Nestled within the red silken interior of the chests were golden braces inlaid with silver shaped into the crest of Netis, curling around a round, deep blue stone barely the size of Cara's pinky nail. "I gift these cuffs to you, my new Dragonriders. May they serve as a reminder of your duties and a mark of my love and approval in your travels across our glorious lands." Marckes booming voice declared as those who had survived the Trial leaned forward to accept their gifts.
Placing her bracer over her left wrist, Cara felt an odd buzzing sensation where the metal met her skin and instantly wished she could take it back off without appearing rude. "Such small shards." Lord Rusker muttered, shaking his dark head as he examined the jewelry on his arm. "Well, of course, they're small darling, the king doesn't want us flauting about declaring shardcombat before our dragons are even grown." Loralei responded, neatly placing her bracelet on the table rather than on her arm.
It was customary that those who declared shardcombat placed their hands upon one of the original shards of the Godbeast's eye, called the mirrors of Sharys, and spoke some official, sacred words to establish the game. Cara looked into the dull, unrelenting depths of the tiny stone in front of her now and wondered what it felt like to be whisked away into the sky to unleash one's true power. "Not that I'll ever know." She thought bitterly, the sting of disappointment curdling her thoughts.
King Marckes stood once more, calling the feast to an end, and Cara split off from the table as quickly as possible, carrying her full, dozing hatchling in one arm. A few steps into her retreat, she realized it was rude to leave without a farewell and looked over her shoulder to call out a polite goodnight to Lady Loralei. After a few seconds of looking around, Cara saw she needn't have bothered, for Loralei had made a beeline of her own to Prince Kimon's side. The blonde-haired girl was chatting amicably once more with his highness, her eyes bright with excitement as she undoubtedly regaled him with gossip from the new rider’s table.
Turning back, Cara left the feast hall and ambled her way up to her room, mind still buzzing with everything that had happened in the last few days. It was all too much, and yet nothing she expected, though that did not mean that it was all bad. She waved Lorsa over as the maid fussed over getting Cara settled in. "Is there pen and paper that I could use?" She asked and was quickly shown a drawer of the table she had gotten prepared at earlier in the night, which contained both.
She let Lorsa leave for the evening and began penning a letter to her best friend Bree, venting her frustrations and confusion onto the page.
Bree,
I hope this finds you well and that your difficulties with Anya have somewhat lessened since our last correspondence. I did it. I went through the Trial and survived like I said that I would. I know you find the process "archaic" and "fit for idiots who want to die horrible deaths," but you wouldn't believe the things I saw in there. The whole "Vault of Broken Wings" is just a recreation of a destroyed Cebrene, filled with danger and crimson light. I'm not sure that I came out the other side victorious, however. Nothing, and I mean nothing, has gone the way that I expected. The dragon that I hatched is a Queen, but my powers… they're odd. I thought being a rider to a Queen rank dragon would bring more than what it has, I suppose. I know you always say that the rider determines the strength of a pair's value in combat, but I'm struggling to find value in the hand I've been dealt. I miss you. I wish you were here to give insight into everything that's happening with that unique outlook of yours. Are you still training those rats you mentioned last time? I admit that I'm curious to see them in action in a shardmatch.
Staying warm,
Cara
Cara finished her letter and glanced over at the sleeping huddle of scales on her bed, still fast asleep. Turning back to her letter, she tried to think of a witty postscript joke about her alignment. She had thought of something half-amusing to use when she heard the creaking of hinges behind her. Placing the long, glass pen down on the desk, Cara turned to face her visitor but was surprised to see no one there.
The door was only partially opened, as though someone had cracked it to peek into the room. Highly unnerved, Cara called out, "Hello? Is someone there?" She half rose from her seat, waiting for a response. When none came, icy fingers of anxiety spiked through her chest, and she looked over towards the bed, where her keeper's shank was hidden under the pillow.
The hatchling was gone.
Sharply inhaling, Cara looked around the room to see if the little dragon had just wandered off somewhere, but the room was quiet and devoid of any draconian squeaking. Cara quickly made her way over to the door, leaving her letter behind and throwing it open. The hallway in front of her was quiet, the doors that led to other guest rooms shut tight against the drowsy wave of fatigue left over from the feast. Cara saw nothing but an empty hallway to her right, but a soft cry rapidly drew her attention to the left.
Sitting neatly in front of the corner that led down to the main hall was one little grey dragon, cocking her head at Cara. "Get back here!" Cara hissed, rushing towards the creature. The hatchling complied, staying still until Cara could scoop her up once more. "How'd you even get that door open?" Cara murmured, turning to go back into her room. A small cry answered her, but Cara's hatchling hadn't opened her mouth.
Confused, Cara looked down at the tiny dragon, who glanced back up at her with wide, innocent eyes. The cry sounded once again, sounding further this time, and Cara leaned around the corner that baby girl had been sitting in front of and saw the shape of a familiar young dragon. Seemingly about a little older than her hatchling, based on the fact that it would have come up to her thigh had Cara been able to get close to it. Every time that she took a step towards the pale white dragon, it took several further away.
"Perin?" She whispered, calling out a name that she had never expected to say again. The creature paused in the shadows between lamps, raising its head in recognition as Cara’s heart stopped. “This isn’t possible.” she thought, repeating the words to herself over and over as she continued to move. Hesitantly, Cara took a step forward, keeping her movements smooth and slow to not startle the creature in front of her. "Perin." She called again, more sure of its identity the closer she got. The cry she had heard earlier sounded again, definitely coming from the creature now only a few feet away.
On her approach, Cara began to notice minor details that didn't look entirely correct to her recollection of her brother's dragon. Its form was blurry, an effect that worsened the more she tried to concentrate on the details of its scales and horns. The cry that left its mouth sounded far too sharp and eerie to be the flute-like tones of a young dragon, and its coloration was slightly off, the bright blues and oranges dulled as though dirty and worn. Reaching towards its scales, Cara inhaled sharply when her fingers made contact with something that was neither solid nor air but gave way once she put more pressure into her touch.
The second her hand passed through its scales, Perin was off again, darting down the hall into the maze of hallways that led through the darkness of the palace. Cursing to herself, Cara dashed after it, rounding a corner and nearly barreling full force into the group of young women making their way down the wide passage. Cara skidded to a stop, looking around for the spectral creature that she had been following all this way and finding nothing.
"Lady Myzanti!" One of the girls remarked, bringing Cara's attention back to the group in front of her. She was immediately captured and held in place by the bright green eyes that had been shining her way all through the feast, set in a delicate pale face with a perfect sloped little nose. "We were just on our way to see you!" The girl they belonged to remarked, sounding both amused and curious at the same time.
"Huh, me? Why?" Cara asked, released from the sharp gaze as the girl glanced back towards the servant that had been walking with them, carrying a golden pot with a bright pink lid. "Why? To bring you this dish and an invitation to my viewing reception tomorrow morning." The girl responded, her invitation sounding more like an order with the simple confidence of her tone. "Ahnn was just telling me how much you enjoyed the lychee ice served at tonight's banquet, so I've made sure to have some served tomorrow along with giving you some excess from tonight's feast."
Cara distractedly nodded at the girl's words, not fully listening because of what she had spotted over her shoulder. At the end of the hall, sitting patiently as though waiting, was Perin, head cocked in invitation once more.