Topic: The Parting Glass

Shaye OConnor

Date: 2014-04-20 07:30 EST
Years passed, as years do. From winter to winter, and winter again, and the recruits in the barracks of the Queen's Legions grew strong and skilled. The time was soon approaching when they would take their places alongside the men and women who had trained them, in defense of the realm of Arctra and Queen Talaera. That wasn't to say that it had all gone smoothly. There had been niggles, naturally - discipline handed out to those caught making life difficult for their comrades, officially and unofficially. A few of the female recruits had dropped out of the course, heavy with child and quick to be married off to the men who had gotten them that way, given a dowry from the royal purse. Not so with Shaye Dervla.

At fifteen, almost sixteen, she remained the wildcat she'd been when she had first entered the barracks, but now a wildcat with skill and training. She'd grown tall in the past two years, though she would never match the height of her best friend ....of the young man she loved fiercely, deep in her heart. No one could match her in a fight but him, and though he often seemed to let her win, she no longer goaded him about it. Their bond was closer than most, but no child came of it, a fact that impressed their sergeant and earned them as much praise off the training ground as they received on it.

She had come into her own, growing into the looks that had always been hinted at, filling out her uniform in a manner that made other recruits envious of the only one with whom she allowed herself to be soft. Dark eyes still blazed looked out from an angelic face crowned with pale blonde hair, marked often with a cheeky grin as she swung her strong sword arm. There were few who dared now to tangle with Shaye Dervla, the runt of the litter who had come into her own.

As for her best friend and closest companion, the last two years had changed him from a shy, almost timid boy to a man and a warrior in his own right. The son of the Captain of the Royal Guard, who came from a long line of Royal Guards, Liam O'Connor took great pride in his heritage and his own accomplishments. He had proven his worth beyond that of just his bloodline and showed promise in his pledge to serve Arctra and her Queen in the years to come. But for all his courage and skill, there was only one who knew him better than any other, and though he had been careful not to let his passion get the best of him, he had pledged his heart to the girl named Shaye Dervla.

Whether or not she could defeat him in a fight, she had already claimed his heart as hers, and he had given it freely and completely. Now at sixteen, nearly seventeen, years of age, he stood on the brink of manhood. He'd grown tall and broad and was not yet done growing. A mane of pale blond hair fell to his shoulders; eagle-sharp, gray-green eyes gazed out from a handsome face that could not yet grow a full beard, though he was well on his way to becoming a man and a soldier in his own right. There were few who could match his strength, courage, and skill; few he kept close to his heart, save the girl who had once been the runt of the litter.

That winter had been a hard one, but with a lot of promise hoped for by the people of Arctra. Queen Talaera's youngest daughter, Arian, was heavy with child - rumor said it was twins, a boy and a girl, proof that Arlan's line was still strong. From Loscar to Phalion, everyone waited for the news of the birth, the guarantee of the succession. And in the training barracks, the last study days before the final examination of the troops were rolling by. Though she had improved greatly over the past years, Shaye still struggled with the histories of the realm, not looking forward to the recitation of queens one little bit. She sighed, thumping onto her back on her narrow bunk with a loud groan. "Rua, I am never going to get this," she complained. "Just leave me with sergeant's bands, and be done with it. I'm never going to get any higher in rank, and we both know it."

Liam had set his sights on the rank of Captain, like his father before him. It was what was expected of him, after all, but it would take years before he reached that rank, and he would be happy to just be done with training. He had worked long and hard for this, just as Shaye had, and though he was skilled with horse and blade, he was untested and untried in real battle. He scowled over at his companion, slightly irritated by the lack of confidence she showed in herself. Where she lacked in book-learning, he excelled, and though he knew there were far more important things to know than history lessons, he had always done his best to help her along. "Come, lea, they are just names. Surely, you can remember a few names. We will make a game of it, and then you will remember." He pushed away from the desk where he sat perched upon a chair, some historical text spread open in front of him.

She raised a brow as she sat up, eying him with an unconvinced expression on her face. "You're going to make a game out of dusty old names that belong to dusty old statues in the dusty old crypts beneath the Palatine," she sighed. "I can't see that working." She flashed him her grin - her lack of confidence in herself was real enough, but it was fun to wind Liam up on occasion, too.

He was far too serious for his own good and always had been. The somber boy had grown into a somber young man, and as was often the case, Shaye was the only one who'd ever been able to make him laugh, but he was not laughing now, finding no humor in the predicament. Though he might not judge these lessons important to soldiering, if she did not pass her exams, there was a very real chance all her years of hard work might come to naught, along with her hopes and dreams, as only the very best were admitted to the Queen's Own Legions. "Oh, ye of little faith," he muttered with a sigh. "Those dusty old names were once Queens of the Realm, and you would do well to remember that," he chided gently.

Shaye rolled her eyes, flicking her thick braid back over her shoulder. She and Liam often ended up having these debates, and she always lost, but not for lack of trying. "The only ones that matter are Arlan, the founder of the line and Thalan's Blessed, and the current incumbent - Queen Talaera, and her daughters, Nepsis, Teraina, and Arian. Oh, and Arian's girl, when she's born."

"Perhaps," he grudgingly agreed. "But everyone knows those. They are not going to ask about them on the test." He was slightly annoyed with her for not knowing these already. She'd had literally years to memorize them, but had always been too busy doing something else while he pored over the books and studied for the both of them. "Now," he started as he turned his tall self sideways in the wooden chair to face her, "name the Queens of the First Dynasty."

Groaning - she knew that look on his face entirely too well to think she was going to get away without saying something right - Shaye rubbed her forehead and tried to concentrate. "The First Dynasty began with Arlan the Wise, Thalan's Blessed and Hano's Chosen. Arlan begat Lenthia, begat Jorin, begat somebody the Good, who begat Tesseria who was murdered. Tesseria begat Ariana, who restored the throne of Arctra and reforged the Sword of Arlan; Ariana begat Nerys, who begat Arlia, who begat ..." She frowned, trailing off. That was about as far as she could get, and incomplete though it was, it was better than last week's attempt.

Shaye OConnor

Date: 2014-04-20 07:30 EST
"Good!" he declared, with a pleased grin on his face. A smile from Liam almost as rare as his praise, though of everyone he knew, Shaye was the one most likely to be smiled upon. It was only because he cared for her that he insisted upon this line of questioning. He simply would not allow her to fail. "Better. Maris. It was Maris the Good. Now, Second Dynasty," he demanded, not having to look at the book to know if she was right or wrong. This line of questioning would continue for an hour or more until she could no longer think, and then it would start all over again. He would quiz her while they were doing chores, dressing, riding, eating until she could rattle off the list of names without having to think about it.

She was halfway through the Winter Queens of the Fourth Dynasty when a horn began to blow, the sound reverberating through the barrack huts. It was a familiar sound - the horn blew to summon all those present to gather in the yard, to be addressed by whoever was in charge at that moment in time. Shaye frowned even as she stood up and reached for her sword and belt, buckling it in place over the stiff leather of her armor. "Wasn't expecting a gathering today."

Liam stood, drawn to the window by the sound of the horn, as curious as his companion, watching while their comrades emerged from their own barracks to gather in the yard nearby. It was unusual to be summoned without notice, and such a summons usually only took place if something of great import was to be imparted. "Perhaps the princess has given birth," Liam mused. It was the only bit of news he could think of that might be so important as to cause them all to gather together in order to hear it. Whatever it was, instinct told him to buckle on his belt and sword. A soldier in the Queen's Guard was always at the ready.

"Maybe." Unlike Liam, Shaye tended to think the worst, a product of her early years on the streets. With her sword belt settled, her hand resting on the hilt, she shrugged lightly, not wanting to darken his outlook. "C'mon, let's see what?s up."

Together, they stepped out into the barrack yard, joining the stream of their fellows as the horn sounded again. The chill of winter was still in the air, and many of the recruits shivered as they lined up, taking their places on the yard without a second thought. But Shaye's frown darkened as she looked around. The Second Guard of the Queen's Own Legion stood before the raised platform, armed and grim-faced, row upon row of trained soldiers watching in silence as the recruits found their places. She had never seen a full guard on the training field before, never in full armor and seemingly arrayed for some task before them. And there, on the platform, black armor supple over his muscled form, was the First Blade of Arctra, the greatest warrior of the realm, loyal to the Sword of Arlan and whoever bore it, by command of the god Thalan.

"I don't like this," she muttered to Liam, scanning the yard warily. Something was not right.

"I'm sure it's nothing," Liam muttered back, though he was not so sure himself. A gathering such as this was unprecedented, and from the grim expression on the guards' faces, it didn't look like the news they were about to receive was of a pleasant nature. He, too, noticed the First Blade on the field and wondered why he was there. There had been some speculation among their mentors that perhaps he or Shaye might one day attain such an honorable rank, but Liam didn't worry so much about the future as the present. He knew that whatever future awaited him depended on the choices he made today. The fingers of his right hand twitched against the hilt of his blade, either wanting to draw it or to reach for Shaye's hand, but he could do neither until they both knew what all this was about.

As soon as the yard was filled and the noise died away, the First Blade spoke, his voice carrying easily across the yard. "Soldiers of the Queen, you have been called to bear witness. Stand fast and do honor." He turned his head, giving an order no one heard clearly, and two soldiers stepped up onto the platform, dragging between them an old man.

Shaye felt a gasp strangle in her throat as she recognized the Lord Marshal of the Queen's armies, beaten and bloodied, his hands shaking with the weight of the shackles on his wrists. Her eyes flickered to Liam, willing him to keep still and quiet, even as others cried out in surprise. Even their training sergeant, Makos, started at the sight of his overall commander, visibly forcing himself to stand firm and not react further.

To Liam's credit, he neither gasped nor cried out, the only visible response to what he was witnessing the clenching of his jaw, his fingers tightening on the hilt of his sword, though it still remained sheathed. He gave Shaye a faint shake of his head, as if to reassure her that he was fine, before returning his gaze to the platform to witness what was taking place there. Though he outwardly appeared as calm as still waters on a summer's day, there was a storm of confusion and dread raging inside him.

Order was restored with a single action - as the hands of the legion came to rest on their swords, the objections among the recruits and their training sergeants stilled and were silenced. On the platform, a scroll was pushed into the bloodied hands of the Lord Marshal, and slowly, painfully, he began to speak, reading what was before him in a voice that was almost as broken as his body. "Hear now the words of a traitor, condemned from his own lips. I, Renard Highcliffe, Lord Marshal of the Queen's Armies, stood before the throne of Arlan and denounced Queen Velasca as a usurper."

Shaye started this time, along with many of her companions. Talaera was queen; Velasca was a peasant plucked from the streets to be a companion to her daughters, nothing more. Anger blossomed, but respect for the Lord Marshal kept them silenced for now. "Arlan's line is ended. By right of conquest, Velasca holds the Sword of Arlan and the throne of Arctra. As Queen, she commands the loyalty of all faithful Arctrans. I stand a traitor, and so shall I die."

Now it was Liam's turn to be startled, rage and confusion warring inside him. How could Velasca possibly have become Queen, unless she had done something unthinkable to usurp the throne" How could the Lord Marshal be a traitor if he was loyal to the true queen" What had become of Talaera and her daughters" How far had Velasca's treachery take her" Was he presuming wrongly' What had really happened? Liam's stomach roiled, feeling sick with grief and anger and for once in his life, he joined Shaye in expecting the worst.

Shaye OConnor

Date: 2014-04-20 07:31 EST
The Lord Marshal crumpled the scroll in his hand, straightening his back with barely a wince, ignoring his pain to stand tall and look into the eyes of the recruits he had watched grow for five long years. Those piercing eyes touched on Liam's outraged expression, a warning hidden in that look in the moments before he spoke again. "So long as a daughter of Arlan's blood bestrides the throne of Arctra, this land will neither fail nor fall, and shall be forever blessed! Cursed be the Usurper, Velasca, and all her kin!"

Whatever more he might have said was cut off as one of the men guarding him landed a double-handed punch to the old man's gut. He doubled over, wheezing, and without a moment's hesitation, the First Blade struck the Lord Marshal's head from his body.

"See how a traitor dies!"

In that last moment of life, it seemed the Lord Marshal was directing his speech solely to Liam. There was truth in those defiant words for the ears of anyone who was willing to listen and understand. A daughter of Arlan's blood. The true heir to the throne, not a commoner who had only been chosen to be a companion and nothing more. He opened his mouth to speak, to join the Lord Marshal in his defiant outburst, to gather all those loyal to Arctra and end this madness, but it was too late. His blood ran cold as the First Blade's sword fell, silencing the Lord Marshal and ending his life forever, and Liam felt sick with grief and pain and rage. He took one step forward, out of line, knuckles white as he grasped the hilt of his blade, the muscles in his jaw bunching as he struggled to keep control of his wits and his anger.

Shaye saw him move a moment too late, but someone else had been keeping an eye on Liam O'Connor. Sergeant-at-Arms Gregor Makos took one step smartly out of line in the midst of the uproar that rose on the death of the Lord Marshal, and firmly punched the young man in the gut. "Hold fast," he hissed, pushing Liam back into line beside Shaye. "This isn't all played out yet."

The young man doubled over and stumbled back into line, gasping in pain. Not having expected the punch, he had not been prepared for it, and even if he had been, he would not have defended himself against the Sergeant-at-Arms, whom he respected just as much as the man who now lay dead on the platform, blood pooling around him. Perhaps it was better, as a red rage clouded Liam's mind, and he could not be trusted to act with reason. He squeezed his eyes shut, forcing away angry tears. He would grieve later, when he had separated the First Blade's head from his own shoulders.

Beside him, Shaye was snarling, in better control of her own fury at the sight of their Lord Marshal, their commander, struck down for speaking what was only the truth. She wasn't the only one, but even now, the threat of the Second Guard was enough to hold the recruits and sergeants back from rash action as the First Blade spoke again. "Hear now the names of the traitors executed in the name of Queen Velasca!"

The names meant nothing to Shaye, men and women she knew only by reputation, who were known for their honor and loyalty to Arlan's line, but all of them strangers ....all but one. O'Connor. Liam's father. Executed for defending the throne against the Usurper. And this time, Shaye was ready. She gripped Liam's sword arm, aware that on his other side another of their fellows had tight hold on him. "Mouth shut," she hissed to Liam. "You know what comes next. Don't make it easy for them."

He was having enough trouble keeping control of his temper, the fury inside him roiling as each name was read off the list, all of them men and women of honor and loyalty to the line of Arlan, none of them traitors in his eyes. "Lies," he muttered through clenched teeth, muscles bunching with tension and barely-repressed rage, until one name was read that shocked him into silence, hissing a breath, all the air going out of him, like he'd been punched in the gut yet again.

"No," Liam murmured. "That's a lie," he added, as he tried to shake his companions off and free himself to defend his father's good name before realizing with fresh grief that he, too, had been killed - murdered for defending the throne against a traitor. For a moment, he forgot where he was as the world seemed to spin around him, grief and rage gripping his heart so tightly he thought he would die, a painful heaviness tightening his chest so that he could hardly breathe.

"He's no traitor," Shaye agreed in a hiss, holding tight to his arm. "I know that, you know that, many people know that. But with a usurper on the throne ....he wouldn't have run. He would have stood, just like you would, and that's why he's dead. Save the anger for when you can fight back."

As once again the dissent died down, the First Blade continued. "Some of you here present are traitor-born," he declared in a dull tone. "The children of traitors who cannot be allowed to live. Your families are being put to the sword as we speak. Soldiers of the Queen, I command you, as First Blade of Arctra - give up the traitor-born and swear allegiance to Velasca!"

For a long moment, there was silence, disbelief and shock rippling through the crowd of recruits. Suddenly, breaking the silence, a voice rang out from among them. "Here's one! Bronagh Goleire, she's standing right here!" And all hell broke loose.

Recruits turned on one another, some defending their own, others trying to hand them over. The yard erupted into chaos as the Second Guard began to advance, pushing through the struggling recruits in search of their prey. And Shaye knew there wasn't much time.

Ducking a fist thrown in her direction, she kicked the girl who did it in the chest and grasped hold of Liam once again. "You have to get out of here," she yelled above the noise, pulling at him. "Get to your mother, get her safe!"

The rage that had been rising to the surface suddenly broke, and Liam broke free of his companions, pulling his sword free of its sheath and pointing the tip toward the First Blade, though he was too far away for Liam to challenge directly. "You are the traitor!" he shouted, the din of battle all around him making it hard to focus on Shaye's words, his ears ringing with the sound of his own enraged blood as it pumped through his veins.

Shaye OConnor

Date: 2014-04-20 07:32 EST
"Liam!" Shaye caught at his arm, twisting to put herself between him and the object of his fury. "Rua, listen to me!" She shook him hard, aware that they had only moments before the guard reached them in the midst of the chaotic melee. "Who is going to defend your mother" Are you going to let her be cut down just so you can die a glorious death here" Are you?"

He was itching for a fight, wanting it, embracing it, anxious to spill the blood of the traitors who had started this madness. All the world seemed to have gone mad in a matter of moments, and Liam felt his own sanity slipping away with it. It was only the girl in front of him who pulled him back from the brink, tears of rage and anguish on his face as he was forced to face her. He wanted to throw her off and fight until he could fight no more, but something stopped him - the mention of his mother, who would be defenseless without him or his father to protect her. They wouldn't dare hurt her, would they' He realized Shaye was right. He couldn't take that chance. Vengeance would have to wait for another day.

He growled deep in his throat, like a beast, an almost feral sound, pulling her aside only long enough to cut down the soldier who had been about to run a blade through her back. "Let's go!" he shouted over the din, when the man lay broken and bloody on the ground.

"To the stables, lad!" Makos' voice reached their ears as Shaye drew her own sword, punching a nearby soldier between the eyes with the hilt. "Get a horse and get gone!" The gruff man was laying about him with his thick mace, shattering the bones of those who tried to get past - holding back the tide of guards to let his recruits escape if they could.

Shaye hesitated, wanting to help him but knowing she owed it to Liam to get her best friend safely away first. She grasped Liam's sleeve and pulled hard, ducking out of the melee and between the barrack huts. "Come on!"

Liam didn't want to leave the man who had been like a second father to him behind; he didn't want to run like a coward, but this wasn't about him - it was about his mother's safety, and nothing was more important than that. He hesitated for only a moment, nodding his head to Makos in a show of respect, gratitude, and assent. He didn't know if he'd ever see the gruff warrior again, but he knew he would never forget him. In that moment, when Liam's world was shaken and falling apart, in that moment when he was tested and made his first kill - if there was any doubt before, there was none now - he had become a man, no longer a boy. He kicked a foot into the chest of one of his own comrades who dared to come at him with sword arm lifted, knocking him aside as he hurried after Shaye to escape the melee, not only to save his own skin, but hers and his mother's, as well.

Their flight to the stable was a harrowing one, never far ahead of the advancing guard who pursued the rebellious element within the recruits to their deaths. The First Blade had joined the fray, and he was an intelligent man. The stables were an obvious destination. Bloodied from the various encounters with friend and foe alike, Shaye pushed Liam ahead of her through the doors. "Get on with it," she told him harshly. "They're not far behind!"

There was no time to gather what few precious belongings remained in his barracks. His sword was his most treasured possession now and the one thing that might still keep him alive. He and Shaye cut their way through the fray before reaching the stables, both out of breath, bloody and sweating. There was no mistaking that this was no practice skirmish; it was very real, very deadly, and very unexpected. "What about you?" he asked, as she shoved him through the doors of the stable and he quickly set to work saddling a horse, knowing they only had a few minutes at most before their opponents caught up with them. "I'm not leaving you behind!"

As he worked to saddle his horse, Shaye stood guard, her bloody sword in one hand, fiercely determined to hold the side door as long as she needed to. "You have to leave me," she told him with a scowl over her shoulder. "You have to get to your mother - there's only one horse, and that won't carry three." A thunderous hammering began on the side door of the stone stable, and she snarled again, turning to face that way, knowing Liam would be able to get clear if he hurried. "Don't waste time, rua! You have to go, now!"

"Lea, please..." he pleaded, looking on the verge of tears as he gathered the horse's reins, knowing there wasn't much more than a handful of moments left. His heart was beating hard inside his chest, feeling as though it might break. He could not choose between them, would not choose between them, but it seemed she had already chosen for him. He would have rather sent her to save his mother and stayed to fight, but it was already too late. "I can't do this without you..."

She spun to him as the door shuddered, reaching up, grasping his tunic, pulling him down into a kiss that promised reunion and said goodbye in the same moment. "Yes, you can," she told him. "You can and you will. You live and you fight, and you kill the bitch for her crimes. I'll head for Phalion. The Keep there belongs to Arian's husband - maybe the babies will survive. I'll see you there!"

With an almighty crash, the side door gave beneath the hammering, and soldiers burst in, three of them, wielding their swords wildly. Shaye met them with the street smarts and vicious ferocity Makos had never managed to train out of her. One fell with her sword in his throat, another got her dirk in his kidney. The third doubled around the foot that found his family jewels before she slit his throat, too.

"Go, Liam!"

How could he argue with her when she had already decided for them' How could he know that this parting would be the last time he'd lay eyes on her for many years to come" Had he known, he might have swept her away with him, no matter how hard she protested, but it seemed their fates had already been decided. How many nights would he lie awake in bed and go over it in his head in the years to come, regretting having left her behind" But in that moment, he knew none of what was to come. He only knew that it was his duty, his responsibility to rescue his mother. He was the only one who could do it.

Shaye OConnor

Date: 2014-04-20 07:34 EST
"I'll see you in Phalion," he promised as they shared what neither knew would prove to be their last kiss. "I love you, Shaye!" he called, as he kicked the horse's sides to spur him onward. With sword drawn, he cut his way through any who dared get in his way, leaving behind the one person who meant more to him than anyone in the entire world, the one person who held his heart in her hand and would continue to do so for many years to come, whether she knew it or not.

His last sight of her was alone in the stable as the First Blade entered, his sword raised to attack her in fury for the one she had helped to escape. Certain death for most. Yet in the weeks that followed, news spread across the torn land of a new First Blade, a woman, untried before she had killed the one who had come before. Her name spread with that news - Shaye Dervla, First Blade of Arctra, reluctantly in service to the bearer of the Sword of Arlan, the Usurper Queen Velasca. By the third month following the riot at the training grounds, Princess Arian and her husband were dead, the last remaining scion of Arlan's line a newborn boy whose sister had been stillborn. The country mourned, and most gave in. But some fought on, in memory of the men and women executed unjustly, determined to put Arlan's blood back on the throne once more.

Liam O'Connor was one of those who fought on. In the days that followed, he managed to find and save his mother, and together with others who had been been left homeless or who were declared enemies of the new Queen, he led them deep into the vast wilds where they found refuge in the vast forests and mountains of Arctra, and eventually, he made a name for himself as a leader of those who chose to fight back.

They became known as rebels and outlaws, all of them bearing a price upon their heads, and the price on the head of the one named Liam O'Connor was the highest of all. News of the rebels eventually spread and their numbers grew, but Liam never forgot the girl who had once been his friend, the girl he had once vowed to make his wife. Even as her name became known, so did his, and though Fate had chosen to make her his sworn enemy, he could not find it in his heart to hate her. One day, he vowed, he would find her again, and he would save her from her own fate and restore the throne to its rightful heir, even if it took his whole life.

((And so, after a substantial break, we finally finish the backstory! Woohoo! Now for the main story, which is getting more complicated by the day. Yay! And also ....enormously engorged thanks to Liam's player, who indulges me far too much sometimes.))