The Lenaris Cycle
Chapter 2: Lenaris, Warrior of Akela
"My Queen! What you speak of is sure foolishness! Allowing the Thyran order to ascend to such mighty highs simply for the hope that any strength that increases our own is valid is foolish. They mock our values. Their beliefs come from the Elvish lands which dishonor their oaths. Instead of working with us, their allies, who have saved them like a child drowning in a carefully drawn bath time and time again, they have closed themselves off and hide like a scared child holding a sword to the door as her parents knock and plead in muffled and therefore unfamiliar voices for her to open it!" I glared, but it did no good. Even as a general, my words were falling on deaf ears, and I knew it.
One can feel when their place in the world begins to wane. As soon as the Elvish infection of Thyra had passed into our lands, I felt my time drawing to a close. At one time, the Queen's ear had opened again when she had decided her action's course only for me. Now getting her to hear me was like begging a stone to listen.
My queen was no longer my queen. She was another woman's queen, mayhaps, but not mine. She had betrayed the very things I had protected her throne for. "Lenaris, you question my judgment far too strongly and far too often. At least this once you had the courtesy to do so in my private chambers, but-"
"-My queen! You do not see what is happening! That wretch has pulled silver silk over your eyes like a worshiper of the lash! You would not remove it for it would kill the anticipation for the betrayal which the time between strikes gives-"
"-You will silence yourself now!" Her voice was regal and strong, as a queen's should be. She sounded like she could have defeated me with a flick of her wrist. Mayhaps she could have. In Selaria, one does not keep a weak and decaying queen upon the throne. One keeps either a mighty sorceress, or a mighty warrior. Before, I had believed all of these warriors would be of Akelan teachings. Now I saw that as time moved on, Akela would be a thing of the past.
In times to come I felt I would be of a dying breed. I knew that soon, my time would be up and not only would there be nothing left of me, but my order would crumble beneath me like a stone made of sand in the uncareful hand of a child. "Of course my lady." I knelt, head bowed low enough that any errant knife could have found the vital place to strike. Such was Selarian custom.
Though many people within Selaria's borders love to point fingers outside, our worst enemies seem to be born and bread at least half within them. Even Delonna, the fierce Shay'din leader who brought forth the five hundred year war of shadow, had been trained by warriors of my own order born in the very castle in which I dwelt. "Good. It's good to know you still know who is in command! I trusted your judgment, but now..." The queen reached down, and her fingers laced through my hair, and pulled back, hard. I could feel some of it tearing, though only enough to feel it. "...the key word is trusted. You are no longer as worried about protecting your queen and country as you are in protecting your order and goddess."
Pain is something those in my order learn very early. I have always known pain. Following a goddess that believes self sacrifice is more important than self gain has heralded pain for each and every woman and man noble enough to carry her tenets in their heart. To follow Akela means more than to worship her. To follow Akela means to be Akela in your own way.
It is hard to sacrifice everything for everyone you love, live a life where all you do is defend and protect, and yet have that simply be what is expected of you. I must eschew all that my station would give me. I am the heiress to the throne, and yet I am a slave for in my heart Akela burns brighter than in every Selarian's signet mark of the silver eye, and brighter than all of the stars in the sky which are the tears she has shed for her enemies.
"Please, my queen, please... My goddess cares not for her own health nor wealth, as I do not for me and mine. Release me, I beg. Release me and listen for my meaning and not my tone. Listen for my fear for you and yours and not for my own selfish link to you. You are my closest of kin, my only of kin. Please do not harm me such as your wont is to do." Tears welled in my eyes as she pulled harder and more firmly on my hair, down, tugging more, and I could feel my scalp turning flushed. No doubt she could see it and savor it. She was a sadist, and it was sadly a saving grace.
Without her sadism, she would be too weak to command.
"I will command as I desire, warrior. You are sworn to the throne as part of your oath to Akela. Even if the throne should by all rights have been yours, you forsoke that and now you kneel to two women only, and one of them is before you. Your blood, nor your station, prevent me from doing as I desire for you." My queen released my hair with a throwing motion, and I was flung down onto the floor in a painful display that would be humiliating if any other were present. "You are simply lucky that my bedchamber is already rather full."
Sadly, I was disappointed it was full. Many warriors of Akela become stricken with what many call love of the lash. That is how I was able to fling my words so firmly at her, for I have it. The love of the lash is when one has grown so close to martyrdom, that they feel to blame for all things in the world. Even at that moment, I felt to blame for her rage, and her false sense of betrayal. This feeling is only satiated by pain.
To my Queen, the act of the bed was not one that actually counted on sex. Love between two women already had its fair share of intricacies (though nothing taboo, for in a land where women were often betrothed as men betrothed and mixed couples betrothed this were was nothing odd about it - unlike how it might be in other lands such as the human or elvish) she was well known to be even more intricate, meticulous, and fond of many unique implements of torture that when used right could give a feeling far greater than any interrogation. To be honest, I half hoped that my defiance might lead to her torments but she knew me too well and if she wanted me to suffer she would only tease with the prospect of pain.
And so she did, for she stepped far away after caressing where I was wounded. Encouraging such rapid forgetting of pain was like pulling away during a moment of afterglow. "Of course my queen... so what is to be my order? What am I to do with these Thyran swine who keep an arrow notched in suspicion rather than a sword extended hilt first as an offering of peace?"
"You will travel with them to the Islands of Tar. Their spies report suspicious activity, and it is your duty to go along with them as a show of good faith. You were requested personally by Adien Demrose." She nodded, and motioned me to rise and so thusly I did. I did not want to be teased with more pain. She would drive me to the brink if she thought I was owed it. "So you will go, and I will not see you back again until you have returned. Dismissed, Lenaris."
My sister never used my real name so curly unless she was angered beyond belief. If she were any else, I would have at the very least raised my voice.
"As you command." I bowed slightly before heading out, and I headed to my chambers to change. Soon, I would be dressed in tight yet flowing red garments that complemented my pale flesh and white hair, with my bracelet thin bracer of Akela around my right wrist. White hair was said to be bad luck on a Selarian woman, while good luck on a man. The reverse was true of men. Before, I had always been good luck to be around.
Though it had never been good luck to simply be me.
