Raistas v Rhaelin and her Guardian - How to piss off a dragon

It was the best of times. It was the worst of times. Any times were better than those spent in that bloody brick those ass holes had called a ship. Having called themselves the fastest ship in the west main, they had quickly fallen under the mantle of ‘fucking liar’ as the barbarian ship drew in so close. Add to that little misadventure the squall season, and the knowledge that the sailors knew nothing about how to travel far from the coast, and he felt like he had been borne into a special place in hell.

The constant swaying and pitching had made greenhorns out of the entire crew, each of the motley rabble taking their sweet fucking times traversing between their oar and the railing to feed the fish below. They might have been idiot sailors, but their compassion for fish was something of legend. So after a week with the stench of vomit proliferating below decks and the timbers of the boat creaking with each violent wake, Raistas was glad, in spite of the situation, to be on dry land again.

With most of his equipment tucked into a quartermaster’s compartments back on the mainland, and a majority of that which he had managed to pack now adorning the front yard of some unnamed and no-doubt wrathful sea god, it was a stroke of good fortune that he’d somehow retained a small bag of yeast, his sextant and a hodgepodge of other sundries, not the least of which included salt.

The only problem he currently lamented was the fact that somehow he’d faced the ultimate abandonment by his left shoe. Why the fuck was it always the left? So now not only did he walk with a limp worthy of a hunchback, he was alarmingly aware of each jagged rock resting beneath the ebbing waves.

Hopefully his sword had remained in the half of the husk of the vessel that found itself nicely wedged between two spires jutting some dozens of feet above the current. Some fifty feet beyond the shore, the wreck looked, for all its haggardness, like the rotting corpse of some vast whale, its ribs sticking morosely out of what remained of its woody flesh.

But, hey, at least the barbarians were gone.

They were fighting again, he could hear them easily even though the walls between them were solid stone. The shouting was louder than it had been in a long time. Rozia's debates with her son were becoming drastically more and more hostile. With Kalalgeros off to the other end of the country the crowned-prince Killian was far more bold. No doubt his 'teacher' was in there with him. Revian always had a way of being right in the middle of this particular problem. Alciel was glad that his highness, Lord Kalalgeros would soon be joining them. He had business to take care of back in the capitol of Ageos. Joining his family for the short holiday on the coast had to wait. So when he arrived once again the constant skirmishes between Queen and Prince would quiet down. The fighting always unnerved  his Princess, and it gave him a headache whenever he had to hear so much of it.

    "Alcee, is brother going to get in trouble again?"  

     Alciel looked down. His charge was not immediately visible. But he knew her haunts all too well by now. He had hardly lost track of her more than five minutes past. Few aside from him could find her in less than thirty minutes when she decided to avoid them. He focused on the nearest hall table, and saw her shadow fall against the white linen which enveloped it. A simple hiding place, but when there were more than forty of these particular tables lining the castle's halls, it was nigh impossible to figure out which one contained beneath it a hidden child.

    "Yes, I am certain he will. " He sighed, coming to lean against the side of the table itself. He folded his arms across his torso.

    "Why do they have to yell at eachother all the time? I don't like it when they yell."  The table shook as she moved under it. Alciel studied the painting hanging on the other side of the hallway.  He wasn't very good at this kind of thing. If it were up to him he'd just kick in the door and tell them to shut it. But that was not the way those of the upper class conducted themselves. Things were so much more simple in the colonies... He waited. Rhaelin said nothing more to him from under the table. He needed to get her away from the angry voices. Absently he brushed his hand against the inner pocket of his jacket. Finding the small lump he was looking for he enticed her.

    "I have a candy in my pocket if you want it." He was never without at least three or four candies on his person. They were very useful when dealing with the young princess.

    "Yes please."  Her little hand lifted the table's skirt and tugged on his pants leg. He ignored it.

    "You have to come out to get it." He pulled the wrapped sweet from under his coat. Tossing it like a toy in his palm. A grumble followed her as she crawled out from under her hiding place. Standing at her full height she still only came to his waist. Her black hair shimmered as it always did, reflecting all of the light that fell on it in in varied hues. It was unkempt and long, but sleek like her father's, laying meekly down to the small of her back. She had torn the knees of the breeches she wore. Yet another set had fallen victim to her roughhousing. Her mother luckily didn't care much for dressing her daughter in expensive and frilly dresses. Rhaelin would have destroyed them all even if Rozia had. Alciel tossed the candy towards the girl. She was quick to catch it and pop it into her mouth.

    "Would you like to explore the beach? It would be a fine day to practice flying." She followed him as he lead her back to the entrance of the castle. Outside the ocean wind would carry away those angry voices. The sun and the water would distract her well enough for a while.

The walk down the to beach was a quiet one. The royal family had been living in the port side castle for nearly a week. The guards never stopped to question Alciel anymore. His demeanor towards them was less than friendly and by this time they knew he'd never obey any of them. His orders came from the royal family and them alone. Some Ageoians said that Alciel had even laid his fist into the Emperors face for teasing him about young Rhaelin. (Though others also said that Lord Azazel truly deserved the punch, and that none of the parties present had ever seen the Lady Rozia laugh so hard in her life.) Once that rumor had gotten around the port-city of Erudale, truly not a soul bothered them as Alciel watched over Rhaelin. The young princess ran along ahead of him. Stopping here and there to inspect an insect, or a dandelion, or even a stone with a pretty color. Alciel walked at a moderate pace with his long legs, easily keeping up with her without needing to call her back or speed up.

It was lucky, he thought, that the castle had it's own outer wall jutting down all the way to the water. It made their little adventures there even easier on him. Even with his protection, Rozia never allowed Rhaelin to be taken far from her. At least, not without being accompanied by twenty of her finest men and a wizard or two. With the walls extending so far, it was a like merely playing in the courtyard.

The gulls cried overhead and the warm wind caressed the sea grass near the water. The beating waves on the shore sloshed and churned with foam. Rhaelin loved the ocean, and waded into the surf under Alciel's watchful eye.

He too walked along the beach allowing the sand to creep between his toes. The human skin he wore had tanned considerably in the few days they had spent there. The scenic view was pleasing to him as well, but his relief came from the quietness of it all. No quarreling here. Aside from the occasional mud-crab, but even then, they had no voices at which to shout at one another.

"Alcee! Are you going to just stare at the water again or are you going to fly with me?" Rhaelin called to him still standing in the thigh high surf. Her breeches were now not only torn but wet from the salty water. Her hair was tossed in the wind, and she continuously brushed the long locks away from her face.

"I've just been waiting for you, my dear." He bowed his head, tucking his arm against his stomach as he bent. She blew him a raspberry.

"Then come on! Lets go!" Rhaelin turned from him and ran out of the water, charging down the shore alongside it. Her laugh echoed behind her as her body enveloped with a brilliant white light. Alciel followed. For the first time that day his lips turned up in a smile. He ran as fast as his human legs would carry him. All the while he felt his body changing as he dropped the spells binding his form. His vision blurred for a moment as he was washed in blue. The light emanated from his being like lightning washing over the surface of the storm cloud. As the his vision returned he felted his body renewed. His fore claws dug into the sand and launched him from it as his spine bent to pull his hind legs forward. They propelled him faster and faster along the beach, and with his long strides he overcame the young dragon that had previously been running ahead of him.
Rhaelin was still laughing as she ran, the joy of the moment filling her.