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Posted on January 30, 2012 at 02:28:17 AM by arthur & pendragon
Scratch, scratch, scratch the nib of Arthur quill moved quickly across the piece of parchment that was unrolled on the surface of the desk. His script was old-fashioned, but, after more than a quarter of a century Arthur had acquainted himself with Shaman’s more modern styles of spelling and grammar. It had been a headache in those early years when he had been in the body of a young child, trying to train his new fingers to do what his old ones had been so adept at. The king ended his sentence with a full stop, before moving his pen a little further down the page, and singing his name in a large flowing font. It was still a relatively modest signature for a monarch, especially one who had first been putting his name to documents on earth. Arthur had never been a flamboyant man, he had an easy grace when he needed it, certainly, but mostly he was grim and reserved, and his signature had always reflected those traits rather than his royalty. He was dusting the parchment with sand from the small silver chest before him, when the room was darkened by a large passing shadow. Arthur frowned, climbing to his feet, he was five floors up, what was there so high up that could cast such a significant shadow? His callused fingers grasped the wood of the window sill as he leaned forwards to look out, his grey eyes catching sight of the great dragon’s tail, as it disappeared from view around the tower. There was no time for him to call for his armour, so Arthur grabbed his sword belt and, with adept fingers, he fastened it in place about his waist. The King strode across the room and threw open the door, he felt a small gust of wind tug at his hair as Pendragon swooped out over his head. His heart was pounding in his chest as he marched down the corridor, his expression one of determination. A guard met him half-way down the stairs, a guard who was soaked from head to toe. The king made no comment on the man’s condition. “Sire...” the guard began, but Arthur cut him off by holding up a hand, “I know,” he said gravely, “find the Princes,” Arthur continued, “make sure they do not leave the castle.” The guard nodded, and hurried off to comply with his instructions, whilst Arthur continued his journey down to the yard, passing more sodden guards on his way. By the time the King reached the yard below, there was no dragon, simply a young blonde woman who he recognised as being one of the deities who had been part of the delegation who had come to Shaman with Tsi. “My Lady,” Arthur greeted her respectfully, with a nod of his head, “welcome back to Shaman.” The King did not say much more, he had learned that the originals were a temperamental group, and this one was virtually unknown to him. It was best to show caution. The King was not wearing any of his crowns, but his tunic of rich sea-green was richly embroidered with gold, this, combined with his rather aristocratic features made it obvious who he was. Arthur kept his facial expression neutral. “What possessions would these be?” he asked pleasantly, “who took them from you?” It was strange, the King could not think of anyone in Shaman who would, or would be able to, steal anything from one of the originals. “If I can be of service, my Lady, then I would be glad to help, of course,” Arthur continued mildly, “do elaborate.” just take a look, through my eyes image by One lucky guy at flickr.com |
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- night and morning with my tears. - By lorraine February 5, 2012 at 03:50:01 AM
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