The Girl and The Sword That Fell From the Heavens

    There is something so spectacularly painful when the people you love most, your protectors, your supporters, betray you.  When you realize that you came second to their aspirations and prejudices.   You might as well stab me in the gut, I'd prefer it.  At least then I would know how to relieve the pain or I could just die.  Instead, I'm stuck kneeling on this cold, marble floor surrounded by thousands of my brethren, my kin, but the only face I see is cold and immovable.  One of the first faces I saw as a babe, the face that secretly taught me swordsmanship as a young girl behind my mothers back, and now the face that has taken advantage of my brothers betrayal for his own gain.       I guess I should have seen this coming.  My father, while progressive in his way of educating me, was still a dedicated Elf King to the Ways of the People.  The last reigning Queen of the elves was more than a millennia ago and the Elves had languished in misogyny since.  I could be the most powerful, wise, and cunning elf to ever grace the continent and it still wouldn't be enough.  My abilities, even at this point, far outshine my older brothers and my younger brothers were too given to alcoholism to give me a run for my coin.  I was a clear threat to a male claim to the throne.  I was just the i***t who hoped her father would be different.     I guess my punishment for being an i***t was my current predicament.       Whispers echoed off the marble floors and walls.  It was no secret in the kingdom that I was the strongest child of King Daroc.  Not to mention the smartest and most prepared to rule.  Although this most recent scheme on my brothers part spoke either to a sudden increase in brain capacity or, more predictability, the reliable machinations of a High Lord.  I squinted at the group of opulently dressed High Lords standing near my Father's dais.  Lord Ilulion, a particularly cunning Lord, stood oddly close to my brother.  More obvious were the giddy looks my brother, Ramos, sent Lord Ilulion's way.  For the Sky's sake, he was incredibly dense.       "Epha."  King Daroc's low voice echoed across the room to me, despite no discernible raise in volume his voice woke my from my suspicious thoughts.       I glared across the room at my traitorous paternal figure.   Skies, he was wearing that awful, gaudy gold robe again.  While King Daroc was notably handsome as all elves were, gold was clearly not his color.     "Yes, My King?"  I infused my voice with as much caustic hatred as I dared.  One eyebrow raised at my impertinence, but I was beyond caring.     "You have been charged with treason against the Kingdom and the Crown by conspiring with several other countries including the humans in Tehan, the witches of Hsaria, and the Ogres of Mauldin."     I had to scoff at the last country.  It was well known that there was little love lost between myself and the Ogres after I vehemently rejected their Crown Princes hand.  At the time all I could think of  was how I was meant to be the Queen of the Elves, not the Ogres.     "And, pray tell Father," I smirked at his look of consternation when I brought up our familial connection in court, "what evidence do you have of these fallacious charges?"     No doubt my brother, or rather Lord Ilulion, had concocted a load of false evidence that would no doubt have been humorous to view if it was not being lobbed at me.       "We have collected several documents."  My father said as I nodded at the expected response.  "As well as a witness."     My head jerked up at this.  A witness?  That was incredibly unusual and troublesome.  No doubt with the fabricated evidence I was likely to be charged, but, because it was easily acknowledged that this evidence was likely false, that sentence would be comparatively light.  A witness changed that.       "And who, in this world graced by the Light, would dare lie in these hallowed halls?"  I ground out between gritted teeth.     For the first time since this whole debacle had begun, my father looked at me with pity.  Not a remote, kingly pity, but the pity of a father for his foolish child.       My eyes widen and a gasp escaped my lungs as a radiant elf stepped from the throng.  My heart clenched painfully and my whole being seemed to scream at the wrongness of what was about to happen.  Anger, resentment, and horrible sorrow rushed through my chest and to my head.  The chestnut hair I loved running my fingers through swayed as his lithe form settled next to the king.      "Ilan has come forward to confirm your actions in regard to the humans and the witches."  My eyebrow quirked at the Ogres being omitted from his testimony.       I spat out a startling, hysterical bubble of laughter.  The guards on either side of my glanced warily at me.   My skills as a warrior were well established and I didn't need weapons to kill at least five soldiers before being subdued, easily.  With a weapon, well, the odds were not in their favor.       Silence rang out as my mad tinged laughter echoed through the hall.     "What would Ilan know of anything?"  I bit out.  "Clearly, our bond was weak enough for this idiotic behavior, why would I confide anything in him if anything had happened?"     "It is beyond me why women do anything that they do, Epha."  The imperious tone the King used brought my rage to the surface and my fists clenched, painfully flexing against my chains.       "The evidence and the witness speak to your guilt."  He continued.  "Do you have anything to say for yourself?"     My mind reeled at all that had happened to me in such a short span of time.  Just the night before I had been laughing with my family over dinner, toasting to my eldest brothers expecting wife.  Now I knelt in chains and a growing puddle of my own blood before my gaudy, corrupt relations.       "Do I have anything to say for myself?"  I responded to the ridiculous question.  "I guess all I have to say is that the only crime I am guilty of, to my knowledge, is being born a girl.  Perhaps if I was born as man my brothers would not resort to such childish means of ending my challenge to their claim for the throne.   Perhaps if I had been born a man, my father would care more for me and celebrate my accomplishments instead of only seeing a threat.  Perhaps my people would be more accepting and supportive.  Perhaps my One would be more faithful to me than to a promise of gold and power.  Nevertheless, my greater crime is that despite all this I still love those who have wronged me.  But that is the difference between myself and you Father."     I turned my gaze from Ilan, who had captured my attention again as he had so many times before, back to my father.     "I will never resort to such despicable and lowly means for power and the continuation of a weak and boorish tradition.  I would never condemn an innocent to punishment when presented with such flimsy evidence."     Cries came from the audience and the King half rose from his chair as I proclaimed his guilt.     "But, I am no fool like my brothers.  I know none of what I say can change the outcome of this trial.  In truth, I am only guilty of being your subject."     As I finished my testimony, my eyes lingered on my Father's face.  My King's face?  How was I to tell the difference any more?  Rage sparked in them, but I didn't care anymore.  My traitorous heart still yearned for his approval, but I steeled my emotions to accept his rejection of me.       My eyes again sought out Ilan.  Now, that had stung.  A cold stare of indifference was all I got in return.  The love and passion was gone from him, lost some where in between the garden we had kissed in this morning and the hall we now inhabited.     My head dropped to the floor.  He may have claim to my heart, but I would not give him the satisfaction of watching it break.  Tears dripped from my face to join the splatters of blood at my knees.       A loud thud silenced the loud talking and shouts that my passionate defense had drawn out.  I smiled at the smattering of shouts demanding my release and claiming my innocence.       "Despite your testimony and in the face of your evident guilt from testimony of the evidence and this witness, I judge you to be guilty.  In my mercy, I will give you a choice.  Relinquish your title of High Princess, accept the title of lady of the court, and entwine yourself with Ilan or be exiled."     Sound filled the air and a dull roar filled my ears.  So, these were my choices?  Humiliation, relegation to the weakest court position, and forced to partner with the same man who destroyed me?  Or leave behind everything I have ever loved and never return?     It was never really a choice for me.  They thought they could cage me?  I would show them.  I didn't know how, but I would make them regret this.      "I choose exile."     That seemed to shock them all, all of them except my father.  I smiled at the shocked faces of the courtiers, my eldest and younger brothers stepped forward as if to try and dissuade me, and much to my sadistic pleasure, Ramos's face grew pale.  It was Ilan's face that surprised me most of all.  His figure remained loose, but his brows drew together and his lovely amber colored eyes held a storm of emotions.       "Naephandia Sestari, High Princess of Illenium, I judge you guilty and exile you from the country of Illenium.  Never again will you return to these hallowed halls, if you try to return you will be executed."      With that pronouncement from the lips of my father, I was set on a path I had never seen coming.  Truly, it was one that would give even the fates a run for their coin.