The soul is known to be the one of the most fragile energies created in the universe. It is a fragment of what is and what is to become. This fragment is split into harmony and melody, male and female. Each transcends time and space always searching for the other. Two halves becoming whole are risks beyond what is understood of flesh and bone. If one is able to find the other only the mind creates the problems the heart is willing to risk. Be friendship, family or lovers your soul becomes complete. Now understand if they are not completed the halves can sustain life with an undercurrent of absence. So then you question the quality of the lifetime. Loki understood this well for he is a part of the universal chaotic dance. Hair of the slivery moon and green eyes of mirth he sits. His frame is tall and slender, clothing embroidered in purple and gold is relaxed. He smiles looking at his statue of his first Herald. A feather duster appears meticulously cleaning the bronze statue.
"I know of an interesting story I will tell you."
Within the walls of its many libraries that litter the castle sits the Queen Mother Cleosia Malkin. This particular one was a favorite of the other occupant, her youngest daughter, Junediai Lyric Rune-Feather Malkin. The two-story walls lined with knowledge and multiple alcoves hold pleasant memories of laughter and play. The highly polished dark wood and brass tells of wealth and history. Illuminated only by the roaring fire they share the silence as her mother reads the report of the latest peace negotiation and assignation attempt. Both clad in traditional family colors Junediai wears hers in the typical jester fashion of geometric designs, as her mother is formal. Hair swept up and pinned, makeup minimal at best Queen Cleosia's aura speaks of commanding power, her face reveals nothing as the pages turn.
Junediai stands mockingly bored in front of the roaring fire. Her elbow rests on the mantle her face resting on her fist. Flirtatious in both manner and dress she sports a blouse with bellowing sleeves cinched at the wrists, the open collar ravels only a hint of cleavage. The colorful vest compliments her small waist accenting her full hips. The matching skirt reaches her knees with a saucy split at the side flattered with heeled calf high boots. Though her hair is partial drawn up it is held by a Jester style barrette of ribbons leaving her jet-black ringlets to cascade down her back. The only indication of her mood is the constant twirling of the wineglass in her hand. Taking a lazy sip she savors the warm sensation of the liquor in her stomach. She doesn't hear the pages of her report turning. Her mind is in the distant land where the trouble began.
Dispatched to the distance planet of Crane for new trade routes, Junediai quickly came to find the tense political mood of the government. As time drew near the holiest days of the year a demonstration of intellectual force was needed for the benefit of her host. Her Consort Cieslik, in name only, was at her side. A trusted friend who skills laid with the study of Warriors Guild, discipline Man at Arms, Master rank.
A fine man of experience and great deterrent against unwanted advances from other males. After positions were established the real games began. Twelve hours of bantering tip toeing, and cock holding both parties agreed to resume the established routes between the two governments. Clearly the state of the economy within the country was poor and was used as an excuse to attack the main palace. Among the chaos Junediai and her entourage battled their way out. Just as they arrived at the port for departure the ship exploded. Scattering them to the winds. Two separate acts executed with the same intentions. Manipulate the authority of the current government. For a few precious moments she awoke within the debris face down. Something heavy pressed her down into the ground.
Coughing she struggled to move causing more debris to fall upon her. Her strength gave after a time, more concerned for her friends than herself, she tried again but couldn't. Something was wrapped around her waist. After many hours rescuers found her. There were no other survivors. Her protector and friends covered her during the explosion taking the full impact of the force. Some she would not be able to bury only her consort was found whole. His eyes were vacant but his hands kept a vise grip on her, fulfilling his promise of protection.
Seven people died protecting her, three jesters, two warriors, a healer and her consort. Each person handpicked by Master Cloves was connected to her in a personal way. All vowed protection of the Herald and Princess each fulfilled their duty. An investigation was underway within the government of Crane but she and her mother didn't put much stock in their law enforcement. After debriefing with Master Cloves, Junediai immediately informed their families in person. After the wakes and funerals she worked even harder. Their killers would be brought to justice, Jester style.
Over the next two months Cleosia and the rest of the family became more worried over the youngest princess. She didn't show any emotion at the funerals her hours became longer as she immersed herself in work. One person was found to have the knowledge of what happen. She was demon of Brina and refused to tell. Master Cloves himself found the female to be resilient then Junediai took over the interrogation, the prisoner talked after a half an hour. There is something to be said about a former student of a God.
Scares run deep within Junediai. The loss of her entire entourage was devastating embracing the pain she plowed daringly forward. To act out in her loss would tarnish the memory of the fallen warriors. She has faced pain and deception before and survived. Now she feeds off it for it told her she was still alive. From her birth she was trained the art of Deceit. Disguised and whisked away to the castle she was shown her fate as the child of the void. In defiance she grew to have no fear of mortal or God. Loki only made it worse in a sense he exposed the beauty of chaos. Ideals are false hope and egos are meant to be broken. Yes, there is to be a balance but then what is life without struggle?
She has refused any bodyguards even at the request (more threaten) by her mother. Juni's eyes are vacant and lips become thin. Her skin becomes flushed as she states
"Let them come I'm ready."
Taken aback Cleosia relents on the bodyguard; she knows Juni could easily make hell for them. In this state Juni is more dangerous than her opponent could imagine. The rest of the family isn't so convinced. Her brother calls in a favor from one of the best trackers, he is known to do anything to get the job done. Currently in the Healer's Guild training and raised off world he is the best candidate to look after her.
On the top of the ridge Junediai sits sketching the Holy City at night during the first few days of Spring Fever. She can feel the effects but it seems hollow. Lately everything has lost its glow even food as lost is flavor. Checking her watch she finds it will be quite some time before the sandstorm forms. Looking at the rising moon she estimates her distance from the city to be an hour. After securing her bag she unfurls her ebony wings then proceeds to look for the right sand dune for the picking. Landing some distance away she starts the hunt for a blue crystal. Her back to the sea of sand she looks at the temple ruins in the mountain. The wind starts to pick up and the sky darkens. No clouds in sky she hears thunder.
Frowning in confusion she looks back then sees the silent wall of shared glass and sand. Looking at the mountains again she finds she misjudged the distance dropping her pickings she ascends. Pumping her wings she races to make the ruins. The winds nip at her heels as she forces her body faster. Then just as she thinks she has made it the storm hurtles her within its clutches. Screaming she falls then is pickup by the whirlwind. Her skin burns from the multiple cuts from the fragments. Drawing in her wings she tries to curl into a ball. Covering her face she tries to breathe but the sand becomes lodge in her throat her body feels as if being shredded layer by layer. Her feathers felt as if being ripped. Then she slams into something solid, passing out.
The cavern is spacious enough for a dragon to comfortably turn around. Settling down Jarenth feels Liam slide down the side of his neck. Holding her body close to he finds the ruin was converted into a traveler's shelter. Kneeling he gently places her on the cot in the alcove of the cavern. Her body and wings are covered with multiple gaping lacerations. Her clothes ruined with blood; ebony feathers fall on the floor with tissue pulp at the ends. Quickly stripping he notes bloodstains on his coat. Checking her vitals he swallows. Her heartbeat is faint, losing blood at this rate she may not make it. Rolling up his sleeves he rummages through the medical cabinet for supplies. Blood trickles from the cot on to the stone floor. Calming the panic threatening his composure he braces himself then sets to work. Her body is relaxed as he fingers deftly work he mutters prayers to any god listening. Using all his medical knowledge and healing spells he works against time. Her breath becomes shallow drawing a blade he draws it gently to her nose the moisture of her breath barley registers. For a moment her skin seems to glow then fades.
The room is filled with paintings and sculptors of past and present artists. An orchestra is playing in another room. Someone calls her name, to her left she sees Mala, harbinger of death, sitting reading a huge book with a perplexed look on her face. Repeating her name she looks up into the eyes of her niece. Always dressed for the occasion Junediai looks as if ready to for a luncheon. Then Mala remembers the first time she met Juni. She was sixteen and wrangled her way in demanding to meet her. Curious what her sister had adopted into the family she found a fearless little girl in yellow bearing handmade gifts.
Mala recognized her niece didn't know she was dead.
Smiling "Am I late auntie?"
A figure appears behind her, a man brave or desperate enough to follow her to this domain. Mala can see the connection between the two. It is become an interesting day to say the least. There was only one connected to Junediai. What has he done to sever it?
