Horse Eden : Kyubi x Bad Wolf

Droplets of essential fragranced waters slid off of her skin and raven black locks as she eased herself out of the formerly heated waters. Plastered against her neck and back, she slid her soaking hair away from the nape of her neck and over her shoulder. Daintily dabbing her flushed skin dry, the suds of soap residue and water were soaked up with ease. A superficial breath deserted her mouth. She found pleasure in the deficiency of nauseousness, yet it continued to suspiciously hinder. It was prompt to assume that even warmed bath waters weren’t the cure for dizziness. Zielle could only accuse herself of this feeling, as it was her preference to drink so much. Well, that didn’t incorporate the unjustified solicitudes she had concerning Lord Soryn. As much as she aspired to rest her head to expedite away the feeble sickly ailments, she forced herself to redress. It wasn’t informal of her to not bear a corset this time so she obtained satisfaction slipping into a sparser, more casual, dress.

The day slipped away from her, her principal duties as the daughter of the Maeve family having taken over. The influx of fundamental duties provided her no lenience for a break. Such obligations consisted of her average studies required to become a flourishing and exquisite woman mostly by reading books and studying for the most part. Very rarely did she fancy visiting her father’s province to assist him with financial paperwork. Most of the time her father would babble under his breath and chortle her away if she did help, as it wasn’t appropriate for a woman to converge on a man’s work, or so he said.

Even though the sun still oozed through the sheer drapes of her chamber, she decided to slip into her nightgown. Her lips pursed in persistence as she forced her balance to remain poised. To her dismay, she had to use the aid of a nearby stationary piece for indefinite ease. She solely concluded that it was probably because she was on her feet for the majority of the day other than her studying concourses. Zielle’s body throbbed, bellowing for some genuine rest. She was probably just deprived of sleep. She couldn’t induce herself to depress about the conspiracy theories of Soryn taking advantage of her and all the nonsense she came up with. It only provoked her to worry so it was easier to conclude it to be other reasons. She caressed a clammy hand on her cheek before easing herself over to her bed. Even lifting the delicate linen covers was too much work for her tired reckoned body. Zielle hoped that the mere actions of laying down would take away her unfavorable feelings. Though she was meandering at first, kicking her legs like a child until she got nestled in the right place, she was able to drift into a deep slumber. The room became soundless as the sun vanished over the horizon, its ocherous and golden hues corrupting the skies no more. The stars swelled in heartache as the moon radiated upon the immense land of the kingdom. For once the night seemed to be eternally tranquil. That was until a scent arose in the air - or maybe it was a feeling. It didn’t take long for Zielle to unconsciously perceive this agitation in the atmosphere. Her eyes partially flicked open, her heart racing in her chest. She couldn’t tell what precisely disturbed her enough to composedly wake her. It wasn’t a transient wicked dream since she hadn’t jolted out of her covers. Though it was clear that something did alarm her since her heart was racing. But as her thoughts became hazier, she swore she heard Soryn’s voice. It twisted in warmth and echoed in her ears overtaking her attention but provoking great relaxation. It didn’t catch her off guard or startle her. Zielle didn’t even sense the necessity to dash her eyes across the room in hopes to uncover what she inferred to be an auditory hallucination. She fringed her fingers across the silk-lined pillow she was resting her head upon, touching her lips afterward. For some reason, she yearned for him. Zielle couldn’t determine if it was a craving for affection or if she possessed this natural compulsion to be with him - or maybe that voice she apprehended was his yearning for her. Though she wasn’t one to reminisce about unrealistic things. It felt as though, no matter how arduous they tried, they couldn’t be separate any longer for some certain reason.

The morning disgracefully became blurred. The early bird moto never pertained to Zielle, well at least not at this moment. She had constantly found herself becoming an owl of the night, exposing her passion in the silence. Well, for the most part, she would generally find her waking in the night but still be qualified to have an early bird morning. Falling asleep early last night was just a mere coincidence and it wasn’t often her schedule. Sadly, the additional slumber didn’t do her any good as she hoped for. The day grew further blurred by the second, but her mother’s piercing words guided her foggy unmemorable mind back to reality. When her mother ridiculed the words coming up just the other day, Zielle never presumed it to be the neighboring day after fleeing her late-night escapade with Soryn. Her mother was, of course, speaking of the imperial marketed trade routes meeting. She presumed that conference to transpire in a week’s time, but she had no choice but to accept her mother’s poor judgment of words in the previous day. Forcing herself to get ready for a meeting she didn’t even aspire to go to simply compiled on her current sickly feelings. Her skin was strangely pale yet somehow crimsoned at the same time. Her hair feathered out obnoxiously becoming frustrating to tame. She ultimately settled on the professional appearance she deemed necessary for the meeting. The imperial marketed trading route was the justified creation of Zielle’s father. He had undoubtedly declared the idea to the previous king. It formulated an innovative fabrication within the public markets and the processed trading routes to accommodate the essential resources to the whole kingdom. The wealthiest and most upstanding nobles, who highly supported the preceding king, were in ample support. The Maeve family were the founders, along with the assistance of the Fota family, the Cantrell family, and the Halliday family. She didn’t know many of the members personally since women weren’t habitually the ones who decided to attend. Though she knew Saline derives from the Halliday family, and she recently learned that the Fota family had a son, Tanner Fota, whom she had just met. Other than that, she doesn’t seem to know anyone within the meetings. To be honest, she doesn’t attend the meetings often, but they chose to invite her this time since the Maeve family had no known sons.

Everyone became settled in the conference room, where most imperial events of nobles transpired. A long-set table convened many men, Zielle’s father at the heart of the table, an unoccupied seat subsequent to his for the attendance of Zielle. Windows were the highlight of the room but the sunken faces of older men from generations of each family seemed to dull the room. Their orbs were presumptuous, scourging at Zielle’s presence, their hands clasping each other to demonstrate their self-dignity. There was no given time for exchanged huffs or scowls as the meeting commenced sooner than Zielle expected. Uttered words and nods of endorsement made up most of the session but before she knew it it was her turn to present proposals to stay advanced of problems in the future, especially with a new king now ruling. Rather than sitting down and declaring her philosophies, she persisted to her feet in order to command the room. She cleared her throat before articulating. “I have noticed that with the appropriate funds granted to our marketed trading routes we will be able to spread further than the neighboring towns,” With an inadequate pause of her lips she slid her finger across the map that resided in front of her father. The map enlisted information on the current markets and trade routes. Her eyes partially squinted as she found her pointer finger stalling. Eyeing the map for half of a second she tapped a distinct location on the map. “What about Thrawcliffe?” She asked, her lips pursing in surety. Her features slimmed when she was granted significant expressions of repulsion. She could only wonder what exactly they were thinking. The only impression she could make to combat those looks was by yielding the logic behind her words. “Lady Zielle, Thrawcliffe isn’t even a part of the main kingdom. Yet you want to spread the marketed trade routes towards that region? They have no need for resources.” Someone called out, before meandering spread throughout the room. Zielle urged a bashful finger against the frivolous headache tormenting her temple. “Don’t nobles reside in Thrawcliffe?” She queried, glimpsing around only to undergo extended criticism. She wouldn’t make questioned accusations unless she had evidence to back it up. Her evidence was Soryn. He informed her that he dwells in Thrawcliffe and to her assumptions, he was a noble, or at least that was how he presented himself. “Nobles? Lady Zielle, no nobles reside in Thrawcliffe. Only the poor of the poor, mere slums to us, and the banished Prince remain in such a place,” Another one of the members demurred. Zielle’s face grew blank but in order to conserve her statement without resembling a fool, she countered. “Yes, sir, that is correct. My point is we want our newly profound king to be successful in his reign. We should accommodate the necessary resources in our marketed trading routes to the poor so they can become prosperous. They could potentially become nobles themselves. In conclusion, if the poor are healthy by having mere necessities then they will be empowered to work to sustain themselves. Then such actions will allow the king to achieve additional support. Which will allow our establishment and services to gain more funding.” She concluded with a tip of her eyes as everyone before her sat astounded. It wasn’t long until their expressions of rejection returned to their haggard faces. That didn’t overwhelm her, but it surprised her when a younger voice carved through the air. “Influential words, I must say,” Tanner Fota stood to his feet, settling his hands on the widespread table that was cluttered with papers in front of him. He probably did it to shun her contemporary dominance over the group. She didn’t expect him to be here. He was undoubtedly recognizable, as he nevertheless had that gaudy appeal like he did at the gathering when he was attempting to woo Zielle. Though, it was hard to tell whether or not he was challenging to impress her. “But isn’t the exiled prince reckoned to attend to his type of people?” How could Tanner say such antagonistic words as if it wasn’t a big deal? There wasn’t sufficient information on the prince himself other than the immoral deeds he had committed but that still gave no reasons for a noble to speak in that manner.

“Enough,” Zielle declaimed in dignity even through her ill feelings. Yet, something startled her. There was this switch - no it was more of a spark. All this repressed fury swamped her system. So much so, that it didn’t even feel like her own. Her body tingled but she couldn’t tell if it was the influx of emotions or if it was something else. For a split second, she saw splitting darkness swarm across the table, directly towards Tanner Fota. It slithered like the speed of light, kinking and coiling every moment it got. Yet, in the blink of an eye, it was gone. It was clear that it was unnoticed by the others, as their reactions persisted the same. Was it all in her head? Following a sight like that, evolved a surge of dizziness. Luckily, she was able to continue to persist on her feet. “I propose that you do not...declaim your peculiar impassioned opinions. This is a business gathering to make the kingdom prosperous...and appraisals will cause our final decisions to become unclear...I am part of the Maeve family, the true founders of the imperial marketed trade routes. My duty...is to bring us all success.” Her words became irregular and slurred but she managed to speak competent sentences, having to take minimal breaks of breath now and then. She gulped as everyone’s eyes scaled over her. Zielle clenched her tremulous hands, refusing to give in to Tanner’s vulgarity.

Kyubi x Bad Wolf

October 27, 2021 07:44 PM

Former Stable

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Soryn awoke with the dawn, much to his chagrin. He had intended to take the morning to rest and recuperate, especially after the discomfort of yesterday and the strange experience with his power. But the early morning sun lancing through the slit in the curtains woke him hours before he had planned. Groaning, he rolled over and buried his face under the covers, willing himself to fall back asleep. But his efforts were in vain. The sounds of morning in the city were rising outside his window as the denizens greeted the day. Hooves clopped on the cobblestone street below, murmuring voices greeting one another as shopkeepers opened their stores and set out their wares. Soryn sighed and rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling and searching his mind for any sign of fatigue, any tendril of exhaustion he could use, no matter how faint. But to no avail. He was well and truly awake.

Deciding it was pointless to continue trying to convince his body back into slumber, he sat up and swung his legs off the side of the bed. Yesterday’s events still lingered in the back of his mind. The odd unsettling feeling he’d felt all through the day, the dizziness when he’d disembarked from his carriage...then that vision, for lack of a better word. Once again he saw that shadowy tendril lazily floating through the air, idly reaching out until it unexpectedly touched her arm. There was no way it had actually happened. He’d had his power for years and had never once experienced something like that. Not once. His mind told him he had simply imagined it, perhaps dozed off without realizing it and simply dreamed about the woman he’d spent the night with. But his instincts were telling him otherwise, which only led to more questions without answers. He rubbed a hand over his face and looked toward the window. Already the activity outside had increased as the sun gradually crept higher in the sky. The smell of baking bread drifted enticingly through the air and prompted an answering grumble from his stomach. Well….if he was up anyways...

Soryn stood and crossed to the washbasin to freshen up, then retrieved his travel clothes from the back of the nearby chair. He saw no reason to waste a perfectly good morning sitting idly in his room, and the city was a lovely place. As he dressed he thought once more about the seemingly impossible occurrence last night. Manilyth had many scholars...perhaps he would find something in one of the several libraries around the city. Centon wasn’t in the dining hall when he entered, so he took his breakfast alone at a table near the window. The meal of toasted bread, fruit preserves, eggs and tea was simple but satisfying, and he left the inn with a full belly and a good mood. The streets were already bustling despite the early hour. The air was filled with the sounds and smells of the city, both good and bad. Once again the smell of fresh bread caught his attention despite his having just eaten. He followed the smell across the square where he found a small bakery. A pretty young woman smiled at him as he entered. “Good morning, Sir! What can I get for you?”

Soryn dipped his head in reply and surveyed the baked goods spread before him. Loaves of bread, assorted tarts, pastries and rolls, even a selection of cakes. “I’ll take a loaf of bread and six of whatever pastries you recommend. And six rolls too, please.”

The girl set about gathering what he’d asked for and packed it all into a small basket as he glanced about the shop. The baker was hard at work in the backroom, kneading dough on a long wooden table. Flour puffed through the warm air each time he flipped the dough, spreading a thin white film over every surface around. The girl gave him the basket with a smile as he handed her the coins. “Have a wonderful day, sir.”

Soryn left the shop and headed down the street, wandering in the direction of the nearest library. Thrawcliffe was only a few hours from here; there was no need to hurry in order to get an early start. So he slowly made his way down the avenue, absorbing the sights and sounds of Manilythe. Living at Thrawcliffe had taken some time to adjust to but it had gradually grown on him overtime. The serene and remote surroundings were a far cry from the bustling city, however, and he found that though he enjoyed the atmosphere here, he was happy to be simply visiting and returning to his home after. The domed roof of the library loomed ahead in the distance above the various houses and businesses lining the street, the morning sun casting a soft glow over the marble surface. Soryn gazed up at the distant structure and let his mind wander, idly traveling back to memories of long ago, when he had stared up at this same library as a mere child. His father had taken him and his brother to Manilythe when they had reached ten years old, believing it important that they see the kingdom and meet the people they would one day reign over. His voice still echoed in Soryn’s head like it had happened yesterday.

“Look around you. Look at the people here”

“What about them, Father?”

“I want you to see them.”

Kenai giggled. “Um...I can already see them, Father. I’m looking right at them.”

The king shook his head with a smile. “There is a difference between simply looking at someone and truly seeing them. It is easy to look at something or someone. You look, you observe, then your gaze passes over them and they leave your mind. But when you look at someone and see them….there is so much to learn. Look there, at that woman beside the spice stall. What can you tell me about her?”

Soryn and his brother regarded the woman he had pointed out. She looked to be somewhere in her third decade, and was clad in a worn but clean blue dress, her dark hair pulled back into a simple twist. After a minute they looked back up to their father, who waited for their answers. Kenai was the first to speak. “She sells spices?”

The king laughed. “Well, yes. Anything else?”

Soryn chewed on the inside of his lip, his brow wrinkled as he tried to figure out what their father meant. “Umm….she’s poor?”

“Yes again, but there is more to it than that. Anything else?”

The two brothers stood silently, unsure what he was asking. Crouching down, the king murmured, “This is what I see. She is a mother, her family was well off but has fallen on hard times, perhaps due to her husband’s illness. She is working hard to provide for her family, and though times are lean, they are happy.”

Soryn stared at him wide-eyed. “How can you see all that, Father?”

He smiled down at him. “Her baby is sleeping under the stall; see how she keeps checking on the infant? Her dress is of a fine make and her bearing is that of a noblewoman, but it is worn and has been mended many times. Her husband is on a cot in the front room of the house behind her - see him through the door? A little girl is tending to him, and they are both smiling. Times are difficult for them, but there is love.”

The princes stared at their father awestruck. He simply smiled, stood and crossed the street, speaking quietly with the woman before handing her a leather purse. She opened it and peered at the contents, then covered her mouth and looked at the king in shock and gratitude. He murmured something and patted her on the shoulder, then returned to the boys. “What did you give her, Father?” Kenai asked. “Enough funds to pay for a doctor and care for their family for a long time. Another lesson - a kind ruler is a loved ruler. If you start treating your citizens with anything less than the respect they are due, you will soon find yourself the enemy as the people turn against you. Always remember that we are here to care for the people - not to profit off of them.”

A wagon rumbled by and almost ran over his feet, abruptly yanking Soryn out of his memories. He mentally shook himself, then looked up and realized that he had reached the library. Putting his past aside, he focused on the here and now. Perhaps the answers he seeked lay here. There was only one way to find out.

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