Destined I: Siriahail

Azure Glaciers

Its a bright, sunny day in the usual hustle and bustle of the Septentrion, the capital city with its tall, white concrete buildings in the magnanimous iced mountains. Delicate arches and cream vines surround the belle of fountains and ice parks connecting each structure. On the lower ice lands are the wide arrays of varying houses from small bungalows to huge mansions circling the Capitol. Beyond the mountains on its very peak, the pride and beauty of the North, lies the Palace of the Royals-- glass, ice, silver and white combined-- to create the colossal structure that housed millennia of rulers. On its side, flowing downwards the mountain so powerful and majestic, the famed Falls of Khione, which they all believe as the essence of their magic. It then flows down, down and down to a river that connects to the ensorcelled White Forest before it joins to the Northern seas and the ocean beyond the glaciers.

         If you listen more closely, you would hear the pitter patter of water, the buoyant drums, the tingling of icicles, the laughter and the murmur of the citizens going about.

          For a starter, it will take days before you get used to the enchanted sight and most specially the biting cold. But for the citizens of the Septentrion, this is home. The Royals, the Council, the Nobles, Elites, Knights, Artisans and the Commoners all unite as one in this land. The 7 stars of the North as the King Mage Alexus would put it just like the ones in their navy flag's diamond insignia. 

          The sun surely rose smiling through Septentrion and it welcomed another chanceful day.

          "Huc redire!!! Get back here!" A male merchant of stones and jewels screams when one of his pendants got snatched up by a little boy running at lightning speed, making his retreat from the buzzing market.

          Bystanders were fazed by the unraveling situation, usually there would be a knight or two around every area but the merchant was looking very unlucky. Not all citizens can use much magic. The boy knowing this, leaped over crates, fences and tables hurrying for the outer lands, bumping fae after fae. 

          And then as if the cold can even get colder, there was a little dew felt following a pleasant shiver as she came.

          Her hair flowing behind her, laughing as she dashes through the crowd. A few feet away from her were Royal Guards scurrying about. She turns three corners losing them in her tail.  

         She wore a thick, midnight blue cloak upon a cerulean suit fitted upon her waist. Silver laces and delicate pearls adorn her arms and the ends of her pants. A casual tiara rested across her forehead, a sapphire gem in the middle. Her thick black furred booths a statement. 

          Radiant. Jovial. Like she possessed her own sun. The ambience of a Royal.

          Almost notable to each and everyone as she ran was her pale skin, a little freckled in the nose but a certain glow in her complexion that matches the platinum hair with dark locks of gray. And then to that feat that everyone knows best, spoken in blue campfires and bed stories, said to allure every single creature known, her bluest blue eyes.

          Khione be damned, she came like the Northern Goddess reincarnate.

          Or rather, she came peach lips guffawing and giggling.

          Heading towards her in the opposite direction, was the little boy running as if being chased by a female mama polar bear. 

         Both forces almost rammed but with her quick wit and footing, she stopped, dodged to the side and grabbed the little boy by his shirt's collar as he swung back and forth kicking. "No!"

          The merchant finally arriving to the scene chest heaving, points toward the thief. "You little naughty, naughty kid!" He came nearer as the Royal on the other hand puts the boy down but not before grabbing the stolen nickel pendant. 

         Coming to his senses the old merchant's eyes widened recognizing who was before him, "Oh my Goddess, its our Highness!!! Lady Siriahail." The man immediately bows in reverence.

          As if on cue, everyone else in the market follows.

          Siriahail on the other hand, would've rolled her eyes if the Queen wouldn't nag her about it. For her, this was ice tilting overreacting. She didn't even notice they gathered everyone's attention. 

          She only wanted a normal walk in the grounds, ah, she should've disguised herself instead, she knew it. But what was the fun in that, she loved playing chase with her guards to pass the time.

          Now eyeing the small boy whose cheeks were flushed pink, not of the cold, but of embarrassment, the princess' eyebrows furrowed. She held the pendant in the air which the boy jumped to reach. Her gaze moved from the boy to the pendant and back.

          "Do you not have any food to eat?" She asks and the young lad looks down. "Your Princess asked you a question." She gently held the boy's shoulder. The crowd is now whispering, knowing it would be the talk of the town for some days, she internally groaned. Not again.

          Gossips reach until the smallest fish under the ice, and they didn't even get half of it right.

          "Child, if you ever wish for any help, you only to need to come to the Palace and we can provide." She knelt in front of the boy, heart almost aching for the sight, gave her three gold coins that should last him some weeks until she can bring up the matter to her father. The boy looked up to her, eyes wide, hugged her knee briefly and was quick to run away. 

          Smiling, she comically waved goodbye.

         At last, the fumbling Royal Guards eventually caught up taking their positions around Siriahail. "Your Highness, please do not leave unattended." One of them expresses. They noticed the merchant who came face to face with their lady, "Is this commoner bothering you?" 

          She almost rolled her eyes in the ridiculousness.

          "Your Highness, please forgive me for this sit---" The merchant, a nervewreck, almost immediately kneels. Now she rolled her eyes.

"Stand. You did not cause me any trouble at all good sir." Siriahail stated as she handed back the pendant to the old merchant who bows thankfully. She gave a huge sigh and decided to give up the agenda to loiter about. 

         This was all so annoying her.

          Everybody else disperses and goes back to their own business, murmurs were louder than before, squeals of delight, awe and gushing, the never ending busybodies.

          Five minutes outside the palace and this happens. She thought.

          In her heart, she did not like being treated this way, so differently. She wanted to belong with the people but not knowing much how. She loved the people but she did not know if this was the proper way to be loved back.

          This is why Siria didn't really think she was Queen material, her sister Phoenice, she is the one who loves dressing up, meeting with the citizens, holding small tea parties, showing kids her water magic and launching games and contests, she was the Queen material.

          But then, she would never allow Phoenice to do what she has to in less than three days. Her obligation. The war is on the horizon and the small boys just like she encountered now will only be many if she did not do something. Even if it will hurt, the Septentrion is worth the sacrifice. 

          It is.

          She walks back to the Palace eyeing every gorgeous little detail she passes by: the gigantic ice park she loved as a babe, the ancient fountain at the center of the capitol where children play with the moon fishes, the circuits of the arches that she always wondered how they got through the smallest ice crevices. The small shops, the session road lined with eateries. A little magic here and there of gusts, drops or little ice. The occasional white fox and fat maritimus roaming about. It was all so special.

        It was her home.

        She imagined the day when she has to leave this place and sadness, whole and true, just flooded through her heart, unstoppable. Not seeing this place for a day? 

          I'd die. She thought. 

          She did not want to leave Septentrion. Of course there are a lot of other things she did not want. She did not want to have the azure color of her eyes. She did not want her plenty magic. She only needed her loving family, a real life. 

          "Stupid destiny shit." She mumbled. 

          Her thoughts on how her last walks in the North would be like only made her heart ache. "Ah. Just get yourself together Siriahail." She utters, putting her right hand to her chest, she smiles upon reaching the Palace Walls.

~

          "Sirawyaaahhh!!!" A prolonged shout echoed and there she goes, her lovely sister, Phoenice. Phoenice with the very same azure eyes only that they do not glow when she uses her magic and her hair was a curled hazelnut brown just like their Father's. She ran towards her, face bright and happy with arms wide open. Phoenice is only eleven while Siriahail is at nineteen, inseparable, different and yet two sides of the same coin as the Nobles would gossip about.

          "I was only gone for an hour, Phi." Siriahail laughed as they hugged. "Can you not finish a class without me?" 

          "But it just doesn't feel right." Phoenice pouted, fixing her plaited hair and her light pink dress. In contrary to Siria's swagger and impulsive shenanigans, Phoenice was the ideal princess you'd like to see when you visit a palace. 

          Taking in her sister's charms, Siriahail frowned knowing that in her absence Phoenice would have the hardest time. She would too, but her sister was just too young. She had to remember whom this was for. But she wouldn't tell her yet, not yet. She'd like to spend her days before departure in normalcy.

          "How was the town? Did you get to see Sir Roderick?" Phoenice asks about their childhood friend who was recently knighted. "Unfortunately I haven't, but know what? I lost the guards twice in three turns and this small boy was---"

         "Ehem! Your Highnesses, the King and Queen and awaits." They both looked at the hallway to see Master Lauer, the Head Council, appear and gesture inside the Palace. 

          Siriahail frowned but remembered the people serving in the Palace has been serving their bloodline for decades now. Their genuinity was beyond doubt and it somehow became the backbone of royalty. She smiled towards Phoenice and held her hand, "I'll continue later." They both curtsied and started heading in. 

          The Royal Palace on its own was very beautiful as it is part of the tallest mountain in the trion. Its walls are of the whitest ice that never melts and blended with concrete of white and deep honeydew. It glimmers under the sun throughout the day wherein faraway, it may hurt the eyes to stare. On its top is the diamond insignia with its pointed spines. The floors to the palace are wonderfully carpeted in the signature navy blue and white. The high ceilings are carved in colors that depict stories that happened upon the walls of the palace. Complete with the Ball Room, the Grand Hall, Throne Room which they are headed to right now and the other fifty three solar rooms plus the servant passages, the bailey, the pen house and the training grounds. 

         It was everything that said Royal.

         As they walk, Siriahail's hands balled into fists, she knew how well she will miss the place until her heart bleeds. She knows she will fight for this place, this home, but it never made the pain feel less of leaving something you love.

          "Look who just graced us with their presence!" A melodious voice echoed in the Throne room.

          "Oh Sabrina, I did not remember we had two daughters." 

         "We had?" The Queen dramatically inhales in surprise, couldn't even hold it in as she laughs wholeheartedly in chorus with the King.

          "Very funny, Mother." Phoenice rolls her eyes and runs to their Mum giving her a kiss on the cheek and her father a hug. "Where have you both been?" She fuzzes upon Phoenice's plaits and collars.

         "Well, she couldn't finish a class without me, so she had to wait for me by the gates as I take a walk on the Grounds." Siriahail grinned, bowing her head first for her mother and father the Queen Mage and the King Mage before giving them both a hug.

          "Actually, I was very productive today. I learned to climb the parapets and got to pretend I was an archer." Phoenice, pristine as ever, proudly told everyone. Siria laughs with her mother, pinching her sister's cheek.

          "Well then, if that sums up your mornings, then its time for lunch." The King chuckles in his deep voice rising first as they all follow to the Grand Hall. 

          The Grand hall was wide and fit to cater more than a thousand guests. The room was made to be warmer than the rest of the castle for comfort of visitors, which they never had in years. The chandeliers made of silver and diamonds hang along balls of prisms radiating rainbows in the sunlight. The table elevated in front was for the Royals. The meals just as lavish as all of their usual meals, fit for the great rulers of a great empire.

         They talked about the day's agenda. The lovely news of some citizens getting married, the new academy built in one town, a family friend giving birth. Nothing too serious but only what a normal family would've talked and teased about.

         "Rumor has it today that you gave a commoner three hundred gold coins." The King raises his eyebrows in humor towards Siria. The Queen laughs and Phoenice shouts, "What?"

          They all looked at Siriahail.

         "Wait what?" Siriahail echoed. The King laughed once more. "I only gave three coins Phi, don't believe him." Siara whispered to Phoenice who nods quickly and the Queen smiled at her daughters.

          The lunch went by to dessert, discussing artisans and commoners and more profitable jobs. As the King babbled on new jobs and less taxes, Phoenice started splashing little water droplets to Siarahail. Moments later they were using their magic to splash each other. 

          "Goodness me Khione, you two better stop that." The Queen gathers a huge pail-size bubble of water behind the King as he reprimands. The two daughters giggle and -- splash -- it plops to his head. 

          "You asked for it!" 

          "Duck your heads children!" 

          "Go for it Mom!"

          "Aim for the beard!"

          Echoes and sounds of laughter rang merrily around the Palace walls. The ruling family was undeniably perfect on their own and it was what made the Northern Empire strong. The guards, the servants, the knights, the nobles and elites, all else has their full loyalty pledged to the crown, to the generations of Royals who never, not even once, became selfish, and offered the Septentrion their all.

          But now it needs more.