by Ellen Wilson
And one Ankhor female, the first recorded in over four centuries. Princess Fiora stood with a beaming smile and a twinkle in her eyes. There was something about the expression that seemed expectant; the sort of face Capriella would wear when confronted with a hot meal. This was the young woman they had said she would essentially belong to and Capriella felt her ears and face go hot from the attention those green eyes laid on her.
She knew she must have been blushing, because the princess giggled before she looked back to her father. The king gave her smile with a subtle nod and Fiora turned back to Capriella.
“It is with great pleasure that I welcome you to the Ivory Palace, Capriella of Ronthorn. I am Princess Fiora Tymon Winslett,” the silver-haired beauty said with a polite bow.
“Thanks,” Capriella mumbled quietly. When Madame Ervel shot a disapproving look, she quickly corrected herself, “Thank you… my lady,” she added, an afterthought to the rules of etiquette she’d been briefed on.
“Please call me Fiora,” the princess said.
It brought some relief to her that the princess didn’t seem all that unfriendly. Madame Ervel’s presence, however, continued to remind her to be careful. Capriella just smiled and bowed her head.
The Royal Family questioned her about her village and her upbringings. She could see the pity grow on their faces as she told the story of her absent father and the death of her mother brought about by illness, and how said illness had almost taken her as well when she was just a girl.
“It felt like…” the girl said, shuddering as she crossed her arms, as if chilled. “I thought I was dying. It felt like it to me. Every day. I wasn’t sure if I could keep handling it, waking up to know I was still alive to keep suffering the same. Until one day… that feeling stopped. I started getting better, but by then, I was alone.”
There was a moment of silence that followed her story and Capriella couldn’t help but divert her gaze down, embarrassed.
“Words cannot express how saddened I am by your tale,” Princess Fiora said, slowly and carefully. “Your pain and loss to a cruel illness is something no one should have to suffer.
“It is, however, more proof that you have been blessed as a Sevelyn. You will always have more fortitude than normal humans, even before your powers are fully manifested.”
“But I don’t feel—” Capriella paused, then shook her head. She had to get this out now. “Everyone knows what a Sevelyn woman is. Everyone knows about the powers from some spirit animal and the amazing things you can all do with them. I don’t feel that in me.”
“Spirit Beasts,” the queen corrected, her voice light and melodic yet strong with authority. Princess Fiora frowned and stood aside so that her mother could better address the girl. The younger Winslett seemed to have sensed what was coming. “And you would not yet feel it. It is a power that has always been inside you, growing. It has only recently though presented itself enough to be faintly noticeable.”
Queen Janas crossed a leg gracefully over the other as she leaned forward. Her face hardened a shade. “You will serve my daughter, and she will break the seal that binds it. Then you will understand what it is to feel like a Sevelyn woman.”
Capriella blinked. The woman was certainly direct, a bit cold, but she was at least forthcoming. “Break the seal?” she asked, wondering what it meant.
“In time,” Princess Fiora said quickly with another disarming smile. In contrast to her mother, she was all warmth. She came by Capriella and took her by the hand. “For now, how about a tour? You’ll be staying here, after all. That’s alright, isn’t it, Father?”
“Of course, acquaint yourselves,” King Kleon said with an encouraging smile. Capriella could see where Fiora had inherited that feature. “And please, do join us for dinner later.”
Watchers
Queen Fiora grimaced suddenly and a low rumble growled from her belly, interrupting the story. “Oh, I’m sorry!” Capriella exclaimed. As a fully-fledged Sevelyn woman, she had no need for food to get her nourishment, but her lady was quite the opposite. “You expended tremendous energy in the battle, you must be starving. There should be something,” Capriella glanced over her shoulder in the direction of the basement. “Wait here.”
Her legs screamed once she moved, and they somehow felt weaker than ever. She bit her lip, but a soft whimper passed despite her effort to stifle it. Fiora watched as the loyal attendant steadied her will and pushed onward anyway. The steps were excruciating, and the distance stretching out before her slow and hobbled pace gave cause to concern, but Capriella made it to the entrance and paused to lean against a torn wall.
“Damn,” she hissed as her legs gave out and she slumped down to sit, a deviant act that was against her will. It was a level of fatigue that she was unused to and she groaned as she fought for awareness. “Lady Fiora,” she mumbled, futilely, drifting unconscious.
“She’s moving,” the watcher said to her brother, observing from afar as the red-headed Sevelyn woman walked an unsteady pace.
“I can’t believe that bitch isn’t dead. Queen Dyssa’s going to be furious when she finds out,” the man said.
Vela Furlise dropped the scope from her eye to regard her companion. “Lucky for us that we came back, though. There’s a live Sevelyn woman down there, one that didn’t get away when that pretend-queen cast her spell. Her sword, no less. I think there’s a pretty reward waiting once we take her back.”
Leam Furlise took a moment to catch on. “Should we send word to the queen?”
Vela shook her head. “She’s long gone from here by now. Besides, Fiora’s badly wounded and her sword doesn’t seem to be in any condition to fight back. We might be able to do this on our own. Wait,” she looked through the scope once more and a broad smile crossed her face. “She’s out. This is going to be too easy.”
Vela watched for a moment longer before she nodded her head, pleased with the situation. “Alright, we’ll nab the girl then send word.”
“What about Fiora?”
“Bah. Wounded or not, I’m not challenging an Ankhor to a fight. I’d rather leave her for the animals or for Queen Dyssa to clean up. Come on.”
They left their cover and hurried down. The two stayed low and always near the cover of some rubble, in case a second party watched them in turn, but they found themselves alone with the two battle-worn women; so they reached the slumped form of Capriella without incident or pause.
“She’s beautiful,” Leam said first thing, and Vela was surprised to hear her own thoughts out loud.
“They always are,” she mumbled with a hint of misplaced jealousy. For despite her plainness, Vela was a pretty woman by any standard. She might have been a little smaller in features compared to the Sevelyn other, but the proportions were simply an unfair contest. Capriella being stripped down to undergarments that did little to hide those features certainly did no favor for Vela’s envy. “Grab her and let’s go.”
“You said she was the sword? Is she strong?” Leam asked, bending down to reach for the woman. Before he could lay his hands on her, two things happened. First, a sudden tremor shook beneath their feet, causing him to stumble away. Second, his nose suddenly broke as Fiora’s foot came crushing into his face.
He went sailing through the air, thoroughly unconscious before he crashed through a jagged stone wall and struck the ground behind it with a hard thump. Vela reactively flinched to the sudden appearance of the queen, ducking and throwing her hands up to protect her head. It took a moment for her to register what had happened, and she looked over her shoulder to where her brother had gone flying.
“S-shit,” she whimpered, visibly trembling as she looked back to Fiora. Where had she even come from? she wondered. The Ankhors were all some sort of super-humans, but she had thought this one was well out of the fight.
The queen looked down to Capriella before she focused a scowl on Vela. “You will leave her alone,” Fiora said, raising a clenched fist. Blood seeped through the dirty exc
use of a bandage on her forearm, and Vela could see the same had happened to the one on her leg. How was she even standing with that kind of injury?
“S-sure. Of course! Really sorry about all that!” she exclaimed while she ran. The woman stooped down to collect her brother and hurriedly started to drag him away. Fiora watched until they were well out of her sight before she relaxed and turned back to Capriella. Her stomach was still making its audible protests, but she was determined to repay the other’s kindness and care and stayed to watch over her.
Flower
The memories of the past were fresh in Capriella’s mind, and she dreamt of the simpler times she had spent at the Ivory Palace before its grand ruination, when its proud towers and roofs still rose high into the sky. Princess Fiora had led her one afternoon to her most favorite place: the palace’s garden.
Capriella had thought she had seen a garden once in Ronthorn. There was one household that had possessed a single bed of purple flowers just beside their front door, to impress those that would come to visit. She remembered thinking the owners must have been very wealthy; now she felt she was only beginning to understand the definition of the word.
The Winsletts’ garden was more than just a bed of flowers. It was a giant plot of land behind the Ivory Palace, surrounded by high stone walls that were thick enough to defend a fortress. Well-trodden paths wove through the big space, surrounded by a myriad of color and growth. There were more flowers and plants here than there were blades of grass in poor Ronthorn, and the majesty of it all took Capriella’s breath away.
Fiora watched her companion’s expression with a pleased smile. “A lovely place, is it not? Father began its construction the day after I was born. He kept and nurtured it himself, until my eighteenth birthday. Just last year. The task is now my own.”
Capriella blinked and looked to the princess with surprise. “But you have so many servants.”
“Who all know not to meddle with my garden,” Fiora said, with a laugh that warmed the orphan girl.
“Incredible. You’ve shown me something new each day, but this,” Capriella said, turning back to the garden from their perch on a balcony. “This is by far the most amazing.”
Fiora sighed contentedly. “I love to hear that. But there’s much to see. Come.”
The princess took her by the hand and led them down the balcony to immerse themselves into the garden. The place was empty and all for themselves. They passed beautiful bushes and well-trimmed hedges before their feet padded against stone, entering a courtyard. It was mostly surrounded by short, stone walls one might be able to peer over on their tiptoes. The sound of water falling greeted Capriella’s ears, and she saw that there were many fountains strewn across the place. But despite the details that went into the forms of animals, such as the fearsome bear or the eagle with its outstretched wings, it was the solitary statue in the middle that struck out the most.
At first, she thought it must have been carved to be the queen, as it certainly bore some resemblance. But here and there, the subtleties differed, and she realized she was staring at someone new yet familiar.
“What do you think? My father sculpted this statue to be me, as I might look once I’m queen.”
“I thought it must be a sister,” Capriella admitted, although Fiora was the only child of the Royal Winsletts. She could see it now, though the statue’s features were fiercer and more mature than their living counterpart. King Kleon must have been confident in his eye to erect a monument reflecting the adult Fiora.
It sat upon a raised platform, which was surrounded by a similarly raised moat of dirt. There, she saw a row of flowers unlike any other. Its petals were red, but they were covered in purple flecks, and Capriella leaned down to admire the abnormality.
“What are these? They’re beautiful,” she said.
“Those, I don’t have a name for yet. They are my very own hybrid, you know. My father always stresses that the garden is training to an Ankhor. That by nurture, care, and love, we can create something beautiful. The same concept is supposed to apply for the Sevelyn too.”
Fiora turned away from the flowers to face Capriella, and the redhead found herself staring back. “I have to confess, though, I’m not sure what I can do in your case. You’re already the most beautiful thing I have seen. Far more than any flower I could ever grow.”
Capriella opened her mouth to speak, but she found herself at a loss for words. It was just as well, for Fiora chose that moment to kiss her.
Capriella opened her eyes to a hazy, unfocused world. She saw the silver-hair of her princess standing over her and the redhead smiled; the feeling of soft, tender lips upon hers was still prominent in her thoughts. But as the details came clearer, she saw that it wasn’t the princess, but the statue, life-like and real and watching over her.
“Are you okay?” her queen asked.
Capriella blinked to fight for more clarity before she shook her head. “Forgive me. I guess I was worse off than I thought. I feel better now.”
“There’s no need for apology. But I think we should move. There were some people here… It seemed that they meant to take you.”
The Sevelyn woman shifted to look around. She had to assume that, despite the injuries, Fiora had fended them off. Their absence meant they most likely got away. The queen was right; they had to move now, especially once Dyssa got word of Fiora’s survival.
“Okay,” she said, standing back up to her feet with the help of Fiora and the support of the wall behind her. Capriella was happy to see that the strength in her legs had returned. “Dyssa will expect us to go south. There are still towns there loyal to Unicra, but we will go east.” She looked out in the direction they needed to head.
“Why east? And who is Dyssa?” Fiora asked.
The woman paused for a moment, considering how much to tell the amnesiac queen. There were some things that might have been traumatic to reveal, but in this matter, Capriella decided on the truth. For half the questions, at least. “Penley is to the east,” she said. “One of your Sevelyn. I can still feel them, faintly. Your spell scattered them across the land, but they are there. Our first move should be to recover them.”
“What spell? Why would I do that?” Fiora’s questions grew and her tone more frustrated; the deflection from the topic of Dyssa had worked, but it pained Capriella to see her queen that way. There hadn’t even been a glimmer of recognition on hearing Penley’s name. Was she even really the same woman, missing all the experience those memories had given her? All the actions and reactions that had molded her into the person that she was, all of it was just gone. What was she now?
Still her queen, Capriella realized. Still the greatest love of her life.
“It was the sweetest gesture and well-intentioned. It was just the kind of thing you would do,” Capriella said, a sad smile playing at her lips. “But I’m afraid it was taught to you for a nefarious purpose.”
Fiora was silent for a moment, waiting for her to elaborate. Capriella wasn’t any more forthcoming. “My lady, it’s time we set off,” she declared instead, then remembered the protests from the queen’s stomach earlier. “But not before we get you fed.”
Lock and Key
Capriella all but emptied the coffers for her queen and Fiora ate the raw meat that had been kept in vats of salt, happily, forgoing the time it would have taken to cook it. While she scarfed the food down with great hunger, Capriella searched for something to dress herself in. In a chest, she found unornamented clothing, basic attire that had collected dust for some years. They smelled a little off, but at the moment, so did she, so she dressed herself without complaint. A white shirt and brown pants went over her, and a black cloak went over the rest.
She laid aside another set for her queen and stretched an extra cloak out over the ground. There, she piled as many supplies as she could think to take, before she folded the cloak’s black edges over it all and tied it off, giving her an easy handle in which to carry it.
&n
bsp; It was in another chest that Capriella discovered treasures of jewels and gold. She laid aside another cloak and packed that one as tightly as she could with whatever dazzling thing she could find. They were going to need some kind of currency to survive the journey before them.
When she returned to Fiora, she noticed her lady had set aside an extra morsel. Capriella smiled at the consideration, but respectfully declined.
“Sevelyn girls don’t really require food once they’ve been Unsealed,” she explained, setting the packs of supplies down. “Our energy comes from the Ankhor that we’ve Bonded to. Although, now…” Capriella trailed off, her eyes descending away. “Now it’s only a remnant of you. I’m afraid your spell has Sealed me again. In time, I may need food after all, but it won’t be the same as what I got from you.”
Fiora tilted her head inquisitively as she reached for the slabs of meat. “How do I give it to you?”
Capriella couldn’t help but to blush something fierce and she averted her gaze away. “I… I don’t think we have enough time for that. For now, um, you can finish your food and then we have to go. I can… Well, I’ll try to explain it along the way.”
“Mmm,” the young Capriella moaned softly in the kiss, her legs trembling beneath her. The gesture had been quite the surprise, but she was finding it a most welcome one. She could feel the princess’ hands behind her, pushing on the small of her back and mashing their bodies together. Whatever was possessing Fiora to strive for such closeness, Capriella suspected it was the same pull that she felt within her; as if some mystical force was spurring her on to want to embrace the other woman, to press against her, to be one with her.