Ch 1 WIP
(Hi y'all! If you are reading this I just wanted to say thank you and also that this is definitely a work in progress. While the general backbone of the story will remain the same, I could go back and rewrite sections as I decide what fits best with the narrative in my mind. I have had this story idea for a few years now and am finally sitting to flesh out ideas. That being said, if you see any errors in grammar or thought, please let me know. I tend to write late at night and so I'll probably miss some obvious mistakes quite often. As I decide I am happy with a chapter, I will take out the WIP in the title :) Thanks loves!)
Ailia was growing weary of these meetings. They began and concluded the same; a fae of high position would make a claim, the King would kill the fae, and the rest of the court would remain silent lest they follow the sacrifice into the grave. Rarely, the king, Brendan Conchobhair, would either agree or be neutral with that day's claim, and little blood would be shed on the millennia-old floor of the castle's council room. Today was the former.
"My King, though I am aware that the dark fae mustn't rise in power, I must stand against going to war with them at the current moment. The recent struggles with the-" Ailia raised a brow. Normally Brendan would not allow more than a few words if he did not agree with them. Today he allowed a full sentence before punctuating his silence with the sound of a head falling to the ground.
"Really, I must wonder if you might be coming to your senses a bit to allow so many words," Ailia's musings fell on deaf ears. As she was basically a ghost that sometimes managed to become corporeal, there was little she could do to show her stance. After the pause in the room extended to an uncomfortable silence, Ailia sighed and shoved the dead man's chair away from the table. She almost smiled when the men all let out a startled yelp, but as Brendan seemed unaffected she did not find it overly enjoyable. Instead, Brendan ignored her signal that she did not approve of his actions and stood.
"If I must suffer through one more meeting where one of you tries to make me rethink my plans against the dark kingdom, I will ensure more than one head hits the floor." The calm and soft voice belied the words the king had spoken, but Ailia agreed the meetings were becoming tedious. No one dared bring up the rebel attacks that had become a tell-tale sign of the time of day; least still wanted to make a decision in regards to attacking the dark fae. Ailia herself did not oppose war, but she did agree that it was not the best strategy to start a war during an outright rebellion against the current monarch. Too bad no one wanted to listen to the centuries-old ghost.
What must have been several hours later, Ailia barely twitched when she heard the calls of an attack at the front gates. After a few more moments, a sigh escaped her as she went to the large window hidden in the library. Below, she observed the twenty or so rebels stoically facing the fifty guards that stood at attention at the gates. Another bored sound escaped her as she noticed how lazily the guard stood at attention against the rebels; this was the sixteenth time that the rebels had come and only stared at the castle guard before retreating at the smallest sign of action. The lack of strategy within the rebel forces made the castle's guards more than a little secure in their ability to make them retreat. Ailia had wondered before if that was their strategy but found herself unwilling to care past her general musings. After several more moments, the Captain of the Guard faked an advance and the shabby rebel fighters fled once again.
Ailia sat and watched as their forms scattered and fled towards one of only three safe paths through the Forest. Just seconds later, the rebels had disappeared and silence again reigned through the halls of the castle.
Knowing the Head of the Guard would have to report the 'attack', Ailia silently made her way towards the King's study. Before she may have even been slightly interested in moving about the room but several centuries had given her the revelation that there was nothing to be found. Only old charts, maps, and any reading the current monarch found themselves interested in. While she did sometimes look over Brendan's shoulder, she rarely found his work interesting. Moving into the room, Ailia studied the monarch who had become a major nuisance to her purgatory of a post. Like most of the Conchobhair line, Brendan had emerald eyes and skin of midnight. His dark auburn hair was shaven, but his curls were still apparent. As old as she was, Ailia could admit the King was a handsome man, though several generations removed from her own.
Moments later, she heard heavy footsteps approaching the study and Ailia listened to the knock followed by the large Head of the Guard. Today proved to be interesting, because instead of dismissing Tobias, Brendan motioned for him to stay as the head researcher and a few councilmen that were closest to Brendan arrived. It appeared the men were determined to not waste time because as soon as they were settled the discussion began.
"Your Majesty, I apologize as I haven't found anything new in the literature in regards to the Guardian," If anything could gain Ailia's attention quickly, it was hearing that title. The King did not seem surprised, only turning a pen around his fingers in thought. As I was becoming aggrieved that was all, one of the councilmen cleared his throat.
"Majesty, mayhaps we should consider why the Guardian has been showing disfavor lately. Though I am in agreement that we should go to war with the Dark, it seems the Guardian especially shows unrest during our strategy meetings." At least one of them understood her blatant signs. Every time war was mentioned, she would move something in the area which was all she could do unless the Monarch was threatened. Ailia had thought her parlor tricks were going ignored, but it seems she had gotten at least someone's attention. "Perhaps it is aware of something we aren't," A snort almost escaped her but she was impressed the man was able to think beyond Brendan's scope. She had learned decades ago that Brendan was convinced she hated him. He wasn't wrong, but she hated the entirety of the royal line she was cursed to serve, not just Brendan. He had murdered his entire line to ensure his succession, or at least he thought he had. At first, she had been horrified by his actions, but eventually, the weight of time crushed her again and she could only feel vague emotions, the strongest of which was hate for this family.