Latest revision as of 17:45, 8 June 2010

Introduction

There were lies in every smile.

Salaria looked around the room, a courteous smile pasted neatly onto her lovely face. Any excuse for a party, she thought. The masquerade was simple; Salaria would pretend to be her normal, effusive self, and the guests would pretend to mask their disappointment with her. Parties were about politics and alliances, not about celebration-- and so Salaria’s mother could not be bothered to cancel a party to celebrate her daughter’s triumph simply on account of her daughter’s failure.

Salaria had never disappointed anyone in her life; from a young age she had been sweet and captivating, the darling eldest daughter of one of the most powerful families in House Tepet. It was obvious from youth that someday, as an Exalted, she had the potential to bring even larger levels of greatness to one of the oldest Dragon-Blooded houses--perhaps even through a position in the Empress’ court. Her destiny seemed written in stone, not stars, and the House waited with baited breath to see just how long a shadow she would cast.

As her time in primary school stretched by, however, the slow realization that she might not Exalt began to set in. All around her, classmates and friends were enjoying the new status that Exaltation brings; Salaria, who was once the favored child, was left behind. She determined to study even harder, as did her friend, Lidoll Wilem-- another dynast whom the Dragons seemed to look over. They spent long hours together, pouring over minutiae, hoping that their knowledge of even the smallest facts would make them stand out somehow-- would make them worthy.

Wilem soon became her closest friend. Despite her charismatic nature, those students who had once flocked to her now had better things to do; juvenile demigods with little care for mere mortals. Instead, Wilem and Salaria would walk the grounds, talking about how good things would be when they finally Exalted. It was obvious to Salaria that her friend thought he had no chance of Exaltation, however, and she did her best to bolster his confidence whenever she got the chance.

Finally, the week before graduation, Wilem Exalted. Salaria was both happy and heartbroken-- she was glad her friend finally fulfilled his potential, but now she felt more alone than ever. She listened as Wilem babbled about the House of Bells with excitement, smiling when she wanted to cry. Even Wilem seemed guilty as he went on and on, unable to stop himself from sharing his joy with a friend whose world was now worlds different from his own. He went home a hero, and she went home a failure.

Which was why she hated this party. Social situations had always been her element; in minutes she could have an entire banquet hall eating out of the palm of her hand. But now, her failure stared her in the face with every glance-- friends, family, all Dragon-Blooded and somehow so much further above her now than when she was a child. They congratulated her, they complimented her mother on her wit and charm-- but she was beneath them now. An aborted godling. She sighed and turned to refill her drink when she felt a tap on the shoulder.

“Salaria?”

She turned, readying another warm and empty smile. “Wilem! So good to see you!” He pulled her into a hearty embrace.

“I wouldn’t have missed this party for the world. After all, I may not have much time to visit once school starts again.”

Salaria’s smile never faltered. She reached up and squeezed his bicep with a grin. “I certainly hope the other students at the House of Bells have been notified of your plans to attend. They’ll need to spend long hours training if they don’t want to look like weaklings in comparison.”

Wilem blushed. “I don’t know about that.” He glanced around. “Come on, let’s take a walk around the pool. They’ll never miss you.”

Of course they won’t, Salaria thought. You never notice the insects crawling at your feet. She took his arm. “I’d love to.”

They walked for a while; the night was warm and the moon was full, reflected on the still water behind the manse. The air felt funny-- the distinct feeling of trying to avoid an uncomfortable subject. Finally, Willem spoke with forced cheer. “So, what are your plans now that you’ve finished school?”

Salaria winced inwardly at the reminder that she was not free to continue her plan of going to a Dragon-Blooded secondary school. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe I’ll join the Immaculate Order like my brother.” She grinned at Wilem. “Couldn’t you just see me, bald and pious?”

Wilem laughed, grabbing for a handful of her long, dark hair. “Never! Your hair is far too beautiful. As are you. Lasek can pray and fight demons. You and your hair are too precious for such sacrifice.”

Salaria blushed. “Thank you. It’s sweet of you to say.”

Wilem gently pulled her toward him with her hair. “I’ve thought you were beautiful ever since the first time I laid eyes on you, Salaria.”

All of a sudden, Salaria’s discomfort was palpable. She knew where this was going-- romantic interludes were forbidden at the primary schools, and so Wilem had never been given the proper chance to express his feelings for her. She was torn; Wilem was her dearest friend, and she didn’t want to hurt him.. but she simply wasn’t interested.

“I don’t know what I would have done without you in school, Wilem. You’re my best friend. I hope we stay friends for a very long time.” She smiled, but her awkwardness at the situation was obvious. For once, she was flustered.

Wilem pulled her close, regardless. “We will always be friends. I promise.” He leaned in, attempting to kiss Salaria. She turned her head.

“Please.. if you want to be my friend, stop. Let’s go inside. Please.”

Wilem frowned, blushing with the embarrassment of being rejected by his best friend.. a woman who, by all rights, should be honored by his advances. “I’m doing you a favor, Salaria. You didn’t Exalt, and let’s face it-- it’s too late. You never will. If you can’t honor your House by being Dragon-Blooded, you can at least mate with one. Maybe our child-“

She cut him off. “I don’t want to, Wilem. I’m sorry. Let’s go inside.” The small hairs on the back of her neck were rising. Wilem can be so stubborn sometimes..

He frowned, took her head in his large hand, and forced her to look him in the eye. “Aren’t I good enough for you? You should be grateful that I care enough not to abandon you! This is for your own good.” He shoved her to the ground.

Hot tears raised to Salaria’s eyes as her heart started hammering in her panic. She felt as if she couldn’t breathe; images flashed wildly in her mind’s eye-Wilem winning competition after competition, so strong. So gentle.. until now. She closed her eyes tightly, bunched her legs against her abdomen, and kicked him in the chest.

And Wilem flew.

She was certainly no weakling, but Salaria knew there was no way she would have been able to send her friend that high in the air, or that far. Wilem landed a couple yards away. He stood, wiping dirt from his face in confusion. “What the-“ He turned white as a ghost as he stared at his friend, pointing in numb shock at her forehead.

“What?” She turned and looked at her reflection in the mirror. An empty golden circle glittered subtly on her forehead. Her eyes flew wide. “I.. I can’t be..”

“Anathema.” The word was half-spat, half whispered. Even deeper than the hurt of Wilem’s forcefulness was the pain of seeing him look at her like that.. with such disgust.

They stood there for a moment in silence, staring at each other. Flashes of memories sparked in Salaria’s mind, confusing themselves with dreams.. she was chosen of a god. There was a god who thought she was worthy.. the Dragons had abandoned her, but she was loved. She was a demon. She was despised, but she was worthy.. conflicting thoughts and feelings warred in her mind as she stared into the eyes of the young Dragon-Blooded yards away.

With little warning, he turned to run in to the party. He took a deep breath before starting to yell. “ANA--!”

There was a large, sharp rock in her hand; she didn’t know how. Trails of golden essence followed it in its path, hitting her friend in the temple. She watched the large man topple into the water, his precious, blessed blood marring the surface of the water, clouding it in inky blackness. Wilem’s eyes fluttered, then closed.

It was silence except for the sound of Salaria’s ragged breath. She blinked back tears before glancing back to the manse. And she ran.

She had always been a good fly on the wall; being unobtrusive enough to “accidentally” overhear privileged conversations was part of her social arsenal-- the tools that made her so good at what she did. Now, though, it was almost as if she were invisible. Dodging drunken revelers, she managed to make it up the spiral staircase to the upper floors-- the bedrooms. Her older brother Lasek was visiting from the Cloister of Wisdom; she was taking a very large chance. She snuck into the guest room, crossing her fingers-- and breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn’t there.. but his chakram was. She picked it up; the smooth jade was oddly cool in her hands. But there was one more stop before she left.

The cloak was hanging on the wall in her mother’s bedroom, surrounded by crests of the House. It looked new, just as it had since the last Age; impeccably crafted. And yet, it looked no different than any other plain black cloak. Salaria knew better. Taking a deep breath, she plucked the cloak from the wall and wrapped it around her. She looked out of the window, squinting at the hill a few miles from the manse. In seconds, she was gone.

10 days later

Salaria stood on the deck of the Leaping Swordfish, staring as the Scavenger Lands slowly came into focus through the early-morning mist. Part of her was still in disbelief that she was able to sweet-talk her way into free passage without giving her name; a wry smile touched her face. I suppose there are advantages to being a demon.

The last week and a half had been a jumble of feelings; one on hand, she felt deep within her that she had been chosen for a special purpose.. That the Unconquered Sun had seen in her what the Dragons had not. And yet, her only true knowledge of the Anathema came from bitter Immaculate texts and childhood bedtime stories.. Eat your vegetables, Salaria, or the Anathema will take you.

She didn’t feel like a demon, and yet.. Every time she looked down at the churning water, she saw the blood draining from Wilem’s skull, swirling inky darkness in a once-beautiful reflection pool. Such black water.Dissolvegirl/I>

Twisted. I like. - Jefepato