Beginnings By Robyn Firelight flickers, casting a circle of light into a darkened room. The light shimmers on the auburn hair of a young woman lying on her stomach in front of the fire. Three people, a young man and two young women, watch her across a Trivial Pursuit board. She pulls a card out of the box and asks: "What is the name of the mythical continent that supposedly sank to the bottom of the Atlantic?" The young man begins to snicker, and one of the young women, waiting for the laughter to die down, looks at the auburn haired girl and attempts to pick up the thread of an earlier conversation. "So how did you meet Æt anyway?" She turns and looks at her, her hair falling between her and the light, casting her face into shadow. She glances over at the man, who has moved from sniggering to outright, gut wrenching laughter. "Well Riley," she says, "I guess we have a little bit of time for that storyŠ" ~***~ The red-gold light of the setting sun poured over the castle making the great building seem to glow with an inner light. A young man walked through the empty corridors, his thoughts elsewhere as his feet lead him on an aimless path down the almost deserted passageways. He stood almost six feet tall, and his dark hair brushed his shoulders. He was dressed in fine clothes, that marked him as someone powerful, and his bearing was regal. A watcher, had there been one, may have noticed that he walked as a warrior does, his every move calculated, his every step planned, without even his conscious knowledge. His aimless path finally lead him to a small, out of the way, courtyard. The sound of footsteps on the cobbles shook him out of his reverie. He stopped, and watched for a moment as the Captain of the Royal Guard battled an imaginary foe. The Captain became aware, through some sixth sense, of his watcher and turned to face the young man. As soon as he saw who it was, he dropped to one knee, his head bowed, "Your Majesty," he said, "forgive me. I was unaware of your presence." "Please Captain, rise. I merely watched to see what I might learn, thinking that I might see something that would aid me in my lessons tomorrow, and perhaps save me a few bruises." Then, he changed the subject, "I had no idea that anyone used this courtyard anymore. It is always empty when I walk by." "Aye Prince Ætolus," the Captain said, rising to his feet, "that is why I come here when I wish to practice undisturbed. The servants say the place is haunted, and their tales say that spirits walk through yonder arch." He nodded towards a rounded metallic archway, decorated with unfamiliar marks and symbols. The curving structure was overgrown with loops and vines of ivy, and dust was layered in the characters carved in its surface. Ætolus scoffed, "Children's tales, it was used as a focus for ceremonies to welcome dignitaries from distant lands. There are many references to it in the diplomatic texts I am forced to read." The Captain turned away from the arch, dismissing it from his mind, "Since you seem so interested in swordplay, perhaps you would like to begin tomorrow's lesson today?" He reached down, and tossed a wooden practice sword at the young Prince, who caught it easily. Both men immediately took fighting stances, and began circling each other, looking for openings through which to attack. The two became absorbed in their task, their movements becoming like a dance: parry, thrust, parry, thrust. They were unaware of the world around them, their minds focused fully on the task at hand. They were so absorbed in their task, that neither noticed the faint scent of ozone riding the air nor did they sense the chill growing steadily in the air around them, or the rustling of leaves where no wind blew. Unnoticed was the faint glow forming within the confines of the circular arch until a sound like a great rush of water broke their concentration. The two men turned, their confusion evident on their faces as a field of glowing blue filled the archway. The vines that had wound their way around the arch exploded in a shower of ice pelting the two with shards of frozen ivy, glancing off the Captain's leather practice armour and cutting the Prince's cheek. The pain went unnoticed, so entranced was he by the scene unfolding before him. The archway was filled with an eldritch glow, and Ætolus thought it looked as though a pool of quicksilver had been tipped onto its side. The pool seemed to quiver, and a dark shape dropped out of the glowing silver arch, landing heavily on the stone beneath. The roaring sound stopped abruptly causing Ætolus' ears to ring as he blinked his eyes to rid himself of the lingering afterimage of the blue glow. He stepped forward as his eyes readjusted to the returning darkness, walking towards whatever had fallen through the strange doorway for that is what he now believed the phenomenon to be. The Prince arrived at the shape beneath the arch took on the form of a young woman, hardly more than a girl, lying probe on the cobbles. She wore a skirt and halter, each of which was fashioned of a single piece of green silk, barely enough for modesty, and too little to keep her warm in the chill night air. She wore knee-length leather boots, and had a bow and quiver over one shoulder, and a strange eight stringed musical instrument slung over the other on a leather strap. Besides the bow, she wore no other weapon, and looked harmless. Ætolus knelt, and lay a hand on her shoulder, wondering if she lived. Rolling her onto her back, he gasped as her ankle-length auburn hair fell away to reveal delicately pointed ears. Trying to ignore the anomaly, he took her arm, and attempted to find a pulse in her wrist. "She's dead." He said quietly, setting her arm gently down on the cold cobbles. "But...your Highness, I can see her breath upon the chill air. She must live." Startled, the Prince watched as her chest rose and fell, her breathing strengthening, but still she did not wake. Laying his almost forgotten practice sword on the cobbles, he turned to the Captain. "Go, and tell the physician that I am bringing him a patient. Then go to the throne room, and tell my father and mother what has happened here." Turning back, he slid one hand under her neck, and the other beneath her knees. Standing, he shifted her weight so it was more comfortable to carry, and started for the physician. He was disturbed to find the Captain had not moved from his place. "What are you still doing here?" "I must protest my Prince. This could be a trick. She could have been sent here to lead us away from this place while the rest of her people attack." "Then, Captain, place a guard on the gate before you recount the events to my parents." "A... a wise plan your highness, I will..." "But first," he commanded, "go to the physician. She may be wounded." ~*~ Robyn tried to open her eyes and look around, only to be hit by a wave of pain washing over her. Quickly, she closed her eyes, and tried to discover where she was by other means. As the pain subsided, she noticed the faint, but recognizable scents of fresh linen and tea. A cool breeze flowed over her washing away the last of the pain from her aching head. Letting her eyes remain closed for a moment more, she listened to her surroundings, and heard two men speaking, faintly, so she couldn't hear what they said. Opening her eyes, Robyn found herself in a strange room. The linen on which she lay was rich, and soft, and was refreshingly cool against her skin. Turning her head slightly, she looked at the occupants of the room. The younger of the two was dressed richly, his dark hair brushing lightly against a fine blue tunic. He wore little jewelry, and that only seemed to emphasize the sword he wore at his hip. The older was, quite clearly, a warrior. He wore leather armour, and his hands were heavily calloused. Neither was looking in her direction, but their conversation seemed to be about her as both men gestured often towards her. ~*~ Closing her eyes again, she tried to recall what had occurred, and how she had come to this strange place. She remembered quite clearly going into the woods to be alone, her duties finished for the day. Also quite clear was the memory of climbing her favourite tree in the Royal Wood to meditate and play her gittern. As the fog cleared from her mind, Robyn remembered seeing the King's younger brother, Aranon, walking the path that wound beneath her perch. Walking next to him was another man that she recognized as one of the more vocal members of her Lord's High Court, Pelianor; a Royal cousin, and second in line for the throne should her king die. Though the two were still out of hearing distance, she stilled the strings of her gittern, trying to listen to their conversation. "Aranon, you could be King. Help me, and you can be the ruler of our land." "Ah Pelianor, you do not understand. I have no wish to be king, I am content to allow my brother to rule, and leave me to my studies. He has bestowed upon me the honour of Keeper of the Runes. I am quite pleased to be a simple clerk, putting in writing the just laws of my esteemed brother." "Aranon you fool." Robyn's pointed ears perked up, her curiosity piqued, "If you will not help me, I will help myself to the throne over your cowardly hide." He pulled a dagger from his belt and strode towards the Prince, his intentions clear upon his face. Swinging the leather strap of her gittern over her shoulder, Robyn leapt from the branch on which she sat, landing as softly as a cat between the two men. "You've failed traitor. You can not finish your murder. My lord Oberon will hear of this upon my return to the palace." Her eyes smoldered with anger, and Pelianor could almost feel the heat of her rage radiating towards him. "Oh, I am not finished yet woman, you may be my cousin's bodyguard, but you stand there with no weapon but your bow, a useless weapon in close combat." With that he moved towards her, pulling out his sword. "You forget m'lord," her voice was filled with venom, "I am a child of the house of Goodfellow, and a descendant of the Green Eyed one. I never walk unarmed." So saying, she shifted until she was standing in a ready position, and held her hand out in front of her. Her arm began to shimmer, and Pelianor found it hard to watch. When his eyes cleared, she stood before him, sword at the ready. "My lord, Aranon, please warn your brother of the treachery attempted here, and I will deal with this scum." A scholar, not a warrior, Aranon was glad of a reason to leave. The two began to circle each other, their footsteps intricate, and dancelike, their eyes locked together, each one searching for an opening. Pelianor made the first move. He pretended to stumble, but instead, swung his blade towards her, aiming for her knees. Spinning out of the way, she turned, and caught his blade on hers, almost driving it out of his hands. Next, Robyn ducked in low and caught him across the side with the edge of her sword. A long bloody gash appeared almost magically in his court robes. The robes proved a major disadvantage, and Pelianor did stumble. Stepping backwards to keep his balance, he took the fight further among the trees. Keeping herself on the offensive, Robyn backed the traitorous cousin further into the woods towards a clearing hidden in the trees. Realizing he was being beaten back, Pelianor ran, heading exactly where Robyn wanted to be. The clearing was spotted with light flickering between the leaves of the canopy overhead. At one end was the Ancient Gateway, and in front of it the altar, both patterned with the strange runes of the Old Ones. The ground was level and paved with granite walkways making it a perfect battleground. The two began circling again, but Robyn could tell easily that her enemy was winded, and weakening from the wound in his side. On the defensive again, the traitor backed across the clearing, stumbling on one of the granite slabs. Desperate now, he slashed wildly, coming in under her guard and slashed her leg with his clumsy swing. She could see the fear in his eyes. As a bodyguard to the King, her weapons training far surpassed his. He backed clumsily into the Old Ones altar, his hands swinging back to rest on it and regain his balance. As he regained his balance, he spun, and leapt up on the altar, parrying her swings, and watching carefully to see what she planned. A rush of air hit him unexpectedly from behind, throwing him off balance towards his opponent. His fall caught Robyn off guard as well, and she stumbled backwards attempting to avoid his flailing sword. The clearing was hit by an eerie blue glow, but the two paid it no mind. Their fight continued in earnest, though both could see the strange blue light, they refused to take their eyes off of one another. The fight neared the Gateway, each step pushing the traitorous Pelianor closer to the blue glow. Finally they stopped, panting and breathless, facing each other on the platform in front of the Gateway. "Give up Pelianor," Robyn spat his name like a curse. "Your treachery is known to all. You will never get anywhere near the throne now. Perhaps if my Lord Oberon is feeling gracious you will be beheaded as befits a nobleman instead of hanged like the traitor you are." Her words seemed to touch him like frostbite. The handsome noble facade he wore in public dropped, and the intelligence slid out of his eyes, leaving only animal hatred. "You, you did this to me." With that, he leapt at her, a deep, threatening growl emanating from deep within his chest. Time seemed to slow for Robyn as it always did in the heat of battle. From the forest came the sounds of the King's guards, knowing she was alone to deal with the menace; they would be too late. Pelianor's growl and the strange rumbling from the doorway overwhelmed the sounds after a moment, and her world narrowed to him. His sword, seeming to take forever, inched its way towards her, but she blocked it quickly. The light from the gateway gave the scene an eerie blue cast, making everything pale. The two blades seemed to give off blue sparks as hers scraped down, and bounced off the hilt. Using the momentum, of her swing, Robyn buried the blade of her sword up to the hilt in the traitor's chest. Through the blade, she felt his ribs cracking under the strain, as he turned trying to escape. The King's guardsmen entered the clearing with only enough time to watch, as their leader was pushed into the frightening blue light. The dying traitor, Pelianor, managed to pull himself from her blade, falling dead at her feet as she stumbled off balance through the Ancient One's Gateway. At least she knew she had killed him before she died. As she dropped into unconsciousness from the debilitating cold, Robyn heard the loyal soldiers of her King howling a lament to their now lost comrade and Captain: Robyn Goodfellow. ~*~ Well, She thought to herself, eyes still closed as she nestled herself further between the cool linen sheets At least I'm still alive... wherever I am. They seem to mean me no harm, else they would have slain me while I lay unconscious. Though she believed these people meant her no harm, the hand laid gently on her shoulder startled her, and she opened her eyes expecting one of the two arguing men to be there. She looked up, and discovered a third man leaning over her. "My Prince," he spoke in the tongue of the Ancient Ones, "she has awoken." The younger of the two men turned, the deep frown that creased his forehead eased, and he stepped towards the bed. The sincerity in his eyes reinforced her earlier belief in her safety. Somehow the infinitely suspicious bodyguard could not be wary of this man. He seemed so nice. He looked confusedly at the strange girl, and asked the man who had spoken, "Is she well?" "I am unsure, my lord. I could find nothing wrong with her." "Does she understand our language?" Robyn couldn't stand it any longer. "Yes, she bloody well does understand, and she is sick of you talking as if she weren't here." "Y-you speak our tongue?" "You speak the tongue of the Ancient Ones. Without knowing it, I could never have performed my duties." "Duties?" "Yes. I am the personal attendant of my King and Queen, the great Oberon and Titania. What is this place? Where am I and how did I come here?" "You are in the country of Atlantis." "What country is that? There is no At-lan-tis on Avalon." "Avalon? You are in the city of Atlantis, in the country of Atlantis, upon the continent of Atlantis..." The girl interrupted, "Your people have little imagination." The prince paused, then went on as if he hadn't heard, "in the Atlantic Sea, upon the Earth." "Dirt?" She looked confused. "No, Earth, known to some as Terra." "Terra," the stranger's disbelief was clear, "that place is a tale told to children." "Where then are you from?" the Prince was as skeptical as she. "I am of Avalon, home of the Fae, known to some as faerie." "Then you are a faerie tale." Robyn was having difficulty keeping her eyes open. The fight that seemed only moments away had taken much out of her, and she knew she was suffering battle-fatigue. The circular logic of the argument with the strange man wasn't helping any, and she knew she would soon drift off. With her eyes only half open, the only thing she could see was movement, and a swift, stealthy movement behind the man called Prince caused her eyes to snap open. Time slowed again for Robyn, and she watched as the man she marked as a warrior moved closer to the exposed back of the young man she spoke with, sword drawn. He was getting ready to pounce. Quick as a flash, she threw back the sheets, and reached for the young man's sword. With one hand, she pulled his blade from its sheath while she pushed him out of the way with the other. The warrior's forward rush, and the woman's unexpected move gave the would-be assassin no time to check himself. As she swung the blade away from its sheath, she slit the approaching warrior's throat, blood sprayed across the room, covering the white linen, and the room's three surviving occupants with spatters of rich, red blood. ~*~ Time returned to its normal pace, as the foreign woman used the formerly white bedsheets to wipe the gore from the Prince's sword, and handed it back to him. She looked at the linen she sat upon, and said, "I'm getting up now." "But-" the healer was shocked, "you have been unconscious for almost eight hours. You need rest." "Sir Healer, I refuse to sleep in sheets covered in the blood of a man who would be so cowardly as to strike at someone's unguarded back. And after eight hours of sleep so deep as that, who needs rest? Now, is there somewhere I may remove the traces of my...encounter? It seems I am in the presence of royalty, and I would not stand before a Prince soaked in blood had I the choice." The prince looked her up and down, taking this chance to get his first good look at the strange woman who had come through the even stranger doorway. Her pointed ears were accompanied by slitted cat-like eyes which were an odd shade of green. Everything she wore too, was in shades of green, even her leather boots. "Please," she said, "allow me to introduce myself to Your Highness. I am Robyn, of the house of Goodfellow, personal attendant of Their Royal Highnesses King Oberon and Queen Titania, High Rulers of Avalon, and I am at your service." "And I," the Prince replied, "am Ætolus Robyn Endymionson, Crown Prince of Altantis, eldest son of the house of Endymion. I will show you to the bathing chambers, and then we will see my parents about a reward for saving my life." The two walked towards the communal bathing room, Robyn's movements were almost lethargic from the fighting she had done that day. The Prince walked slowly to accommodate her slow movements. "How is it that you came here?" Ætolus asked her. "I am unsure. None of my people know how to use the Ancient One's Gateway anymore. It has long been a mystery to us how the gateway is opened, and the Ancient Ones have not returned to our home since the ghul came." "What is the... 'Gateway'? In the history of my people there is no mention of it except that we once welcomed important visitors there." "It is a...a doorway. The Ancient Ones built it to travel among the stars." "Well, if its purpose is to travel among the stars, and you don't know how to use it, and my people don't know how to use it..." "Then I have no way home. If it be the will of the Lady, then I will stay where she has sent me." "The lady? What lady?" "The Green-Eyed one, Lady Luck. She is my family's Zal'en'n..." she searched for a word, "deity?" "Your god?" She sighed. "Of a sort. Each clan among my people honours a differentŠ god." Just then they arrived at the bathing rooms. "I am a mess I fear. I had to fight a battle for my life before I fell through the Gateway, and I must look a fright." The Prince left for his own chambers for the blood covering his tunic was beginning to gain the attention of passersby. He sent a maidservant to see to the woman's, not woman, Elf's comfort, and to direct her to the Court when she had prepared herself. After making himself more presentable, he went to talk to his parents. He found them just as Court was ending. They were tired, and confused at his presence. He usually avoided Court like the Apocalypse. After formally informing the Court, to many gasps of shock and disbelief, of the Captain's treachery, he began to explain that without the help of the stranger, Atlantis would be without its Heir. As he finished his explanation, Robyn entered the room wearing a more formal version of what she had worn before. Something he knew she couldn't have gotten on such short notice. The cut was more like that of an Officer of the Guard than the simple twists of silk she had worn earlier. A silver tree crest hung from a chain around her neck, and small bells chimed in her hair. Her strange instrument and bow had been left behind, but on her back she wore an empty scabbard, made for a strange curved sword. She strode gracefully and confidently up to the throne, and went down on one knee, head bowed, before Ætolus' parents, saying nothing. "Iphianassa, Endymion. May I present Robyn of the house of Goodfellow who hails from the land of Avalon. This, most honored parents, is the stranger who saved my life." Endymion spoke. "Arise, Robyn of the house of Goodfellow and ask us what boon you will for saving the life of our eldest son." Only Ætolus could tell they feared she would ask the impossible. "You are most gracious Majesties." She stood slowly, and looked at the king and queen, "and my boon is this. Give me some useful employment. I have no wish to live upon someone else's charity, and as I have no way of returning to my home..." "Will not your people come for you?" The queen asked. "No, M'Lady, my people cannot use the Gateway, just as yours cannot. My comrades already think me dead. They sang my death song as I fell. No, your Majesties, I am stuck here, by the will of the Lady, and I would find something useful with which to occupy my time." The queen gestured to an old man who stood off to one side of the throne room, "Epillion, cast your Stones, and tell us what the gods decree this woman should do. If she wishes employment, we shall give it to her." The old man tottered towards the throne, and sat quietly on the lowest tier of the dias upon which the throne sat. Pulling a small, intricately decorated bag out of a pocket in his robe, he emptied a number of tiles into his hand. He then shook the tiles, and tossed them onto the step in front of him. Robyn was unsure what exactly was going on, but she didn't want to disturb the man's concentration by whispering to Ætolus, who was standing beside her. The man peered up at Queen Iphianassa, and said, "The gods have decreed that her duty will be to guard Atlantis' greatest treasure." So saying, he gathered up his tiles, and walked away. "Guarding treasure... What, my wife, is our greatest treasure?" "Perhaps... Robyn, what were your duties on Avalon?" "To guard and protect my King and Queen, Your Majesty." "The gods would not have us put a bodyguard to looking after gold. In their eyes, our greatest treasure must be..." "The life of our son. He is our Heir, and we have seen that even our most trusted guards can be bought. We know she is capable of protecting him," turning back to look at the woman before her, the queen asked, "would you agree to guard the life of our son?" "Most gracious lady, I would be most honoured. You have given nothing but kindness to a stranger, and I will repay it." Dropping to one knee, she said solemnly, "I, Robyn of the house of Goodfellow, do hereby swear to give my life in the protection of your son, and watch his back even should he live for eternity." ~***~ "Little did I realize exactly what I was getting myself into." Robyn looks back at the Prince, who stops laughing, and starts to gasp for breath. "Have you figured out the answer yet Ætolus?" "Wow, you two have known each other for a while haven't you?" Riley wonders almost to herself. "Since before the sinking of Atlantis." Says Ætolus, "Which is by the way the answer to that question, and gives me another pie. I'm gonna win this time." He grins and places a blue pie in his game piece. Robyn looks over at him, her strange green eyes glowing with reflected firelight. "Good Luck," she laughs. Picking up the dice, she tosses them onto the board, and rolls a pair of sevens. 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