The clock’s rhythmic beat is the only thing keeping me sane.
[name_f]Day[/name_f] after day, I’ve been listening to the wooden clock on the wall. At the start, it bothered me. But now, listening to the clock provides me with something to do.
Provides me with something to listen to.
Something to distract me.
But maybe I don’t need distraction. Maybe I should live through my last days, fully present and aware.
Maybe I shouldn’t have lived at all.
The clock’s rhythmic beat is the only thing keeping me sane.
[name_m]Or[/name_m] maybe its the thing driving me insane.
“I hate the ocean,” Alaric murmured under his breath.
Cecily lifted her eyes to meet Alaric’s turquoise ones, ironically reminding her of the sea. She knew she couldn’t pry, because it could take centuries for him to open up again – it had taken centuries to get this far. She reached out, gently brushing his hand with her fingers.
Alaric gripped the jagged stones beneath them, his jaw clenching. “I hate the storm,” he snarled, then side-eyed her sharply as if to say “I even hate you.”
The St [name_f]Rose[/name_f] estate, Willcove house, had been around for Centuries. [name_m]Heath[/name_m] had known this since his father had boomed those words at least 13 years prior.
“Centuries!” his father, proudly exclaimed, “Willcove was built by the first St Rose’s men, centuries ago.” [name_m]Quentin[/name_m] St [name_f]Rose[/name_f] II was not a very strong man, built like a beanpole, but his confidence made up for that times over.
“We visit here every few years” He would always inform guests, not wanting to seem tied to a place so small. “Only for the history” He continued “Little [name_m]Quentin[/name_m] here needs to learn about what he’s inheriting.” And [name_m]Heath[/name_m] would always smile a big, big smile. Proud to be [name_m]Quentin[/name_m] [name_m]Heathcliff[/name_m] St [name_f]Rose[/name_f] III, not [name_m]Oscar[/name_m] or [name_f]Helen[/name_f], stuck in the nursery.
The horizon seemed to tremble under Alaric’s unyielding stare.
[name_f]Cecily[/name_f] sighed. Apparently bringing him out here wasn’t the magic solution I needed. Her eyes fell to their feet, dangling freely over the edge of the cliff.
She bit her lip. “What would you do if I fell in?”
Flecks of gold bounced on and off the waves as they crashed beneath them. In all her years, there hadn’t been a single miraculous report of someone living after falling into this ocean.
For minutes, he silently maintained his gaze on the horizon. Finally, he blinked and turned to face her. Emotionlessly, he inhaled and spoke clearly: “I would get up, walk home, and curse you for being an idiot.”
“Would you really?” I asked in wonder. “Wait, is that even allowed?”
[name_f]Amethyst[/name_f] shrugs. “Of course it is. I’m a keystone–I make the rules.” She suddenly turns serious. “But it will have to be done now. The boy has minutes left to live.”
I swear (not a good idea around a keystone, but [name_f]Amethyst[/name_f] doesn’t seem to mind). Coramaris taps my shoulder, shy in the presence of such powerful fire magic.
“This doesn’t feel right,” she says quietly. “He should at least be awake.”
I can’t help but agree with her. This shouldn’t be our choice to make about Sparrow’s destiny–but if we don’t agree, he won’t have a destiny at all.
Cecily’s features softened. What did she expect, anyways? She’d always known [name_m]Alaric[/name_m] had a certain harshness about him; he was a man who didn’t flinch. He took life as it was – cold and heartless. Still, his reply stung – but a stubborn part of her refused to let him have the last word so easily. She swallowed.
“Would it be so terrible to care?”
Again, he took a moment to reply, so long that she wondered if he’d even listened. So she just stared at his chronically furrowed brow and tight-lipped scowl, the practiced detachment he wore as armor.
Finally, [name_m]Alaric[/name_m] exhaled and tilted his head to glance sidelong at her. “You shouldn’t make a habit of testing people.” Then with the grace of a warrior, he lifted himself to his feet, took two moments to stand dangerously close to the cliff’s edge (to worry [name_f]Cecily[/name_f] if nothing else), and then turned and walked away silently.
[name_f]Cecily[/name_f] knew he didn’t like to be questioned. He hated to confront destiny or desire, so he lived with no hope and no fear. Bleak and stagnant and barely alive.
“Okay,” I agree, my breath sharp in my throat.
[name_f]Amethyst[/name_f] lifts [name_f]Sparrow[/name_f] from my tiring arms with seemingly no effort and sparks a fire in her palm. [name_f]Cora[/name_f] steps back in alarm, but the flame is blood-red, unlike any normal fire. This must be how [name_f]Amethyst[/name_f] does her magic. A wall of flames suddenly springs from her hand and leaps up around her and [name_f]Sparrow[/name_f]. As it grows higher, images and snippets of words appear.
A crown, spiked and golden. A mage’s staff made from a twisted bough. The [name_m]Mage[/name_m], the king, we all will bow. A woman in armor, with hair as dark as mine. The armored [name_m]Warrior[/name_m] to crown. [name_m]Dark[/name_m] carved symbols smooth with handprints. The Priestess keeps the words of faith. Millions of tiny bells falling like rain. The Jester laughs alone, ungraced. [name_m]An[/name_m] ancient-looking building shadowed by the silhouette of a man. The court, the fabled empty halls, will whisper at the Mage’s calls. That silhouette again, lying prone while the armored woman kneels by his side. The shadow of a poisoned bone will leave the [name_m]Warrior[/name_m] alone.
“And there you have it,” says [name_f]Amethyst[/name_f] proudly as the fire dies. “A prophecy.”
Next word: crown
Sorry for the length of that! I wanted to get through the whole prophecy.
I sprinted faster, running from the royal guard. I knew they would take me to the prince if they caught me. I turned on to a forest path, full of low hanging branches and roots emerging from the ground. One by one, they stumbled and fell to the ground, until only one was left standing.
“By order of the [name_m]Prince[/name_m] of Etherea, you are to return to the castle!” I didn’t want to do this
“As the [name_m]Crown[/name_m] [name_f]Princess[/name_f] of Etherea, I order you to stand down!” It always comes to this
[name_f]Every[/name_f] time I try to escape from my suffocating life, to escape all the pressures and responsibilities heaped on my slender sixteen year old shoulders…
He finds out.
[name_f]My[/name_f] betrothed.
The prince.
[name_f]My[/name_f] mind is spinning, running through the lines of the prophecy. [name_m]Four[/name_m] people, the royal court, and. . . something ominous. I have no idea what any of it means, but somehow this is Sparrow’s destiny. I wonder who the people are. We weren’t warned that there would be four.
[name_f]Amethyst[/name_f] lights another small fire, then holds it up to her mouth. “Aleika!” she calls cheerfully through it. “You’ve got a [name_m]Chosen[/name_m] One to save!”
A few seconds later, Aleika the [name_m]Warden[/name_m] steps out of a tree, which doesn’t terrify me only because I’ve reached my threshold of weird magic comprehension. She rolls her eyes. “What is it now, [name_f]Amethyst[/name_f]? Don’t tell me you sponsored a prophecy for these children.”
“Of course I did,” says [name_f]Amethyst[/name_f]. “You wouldn’t save this life, so I forced you to. You don’t want to create a paradox, do you?”
Aleika shakes her head slowly, then says something to [name_f]Amethyst[/name_f] that I can’t repeat. She turns to me and Coramaris, still standing in silence. “I will save the boy, because I have to. But you should know that a prophecy is always far more trouble than it’s worth.”
“Your Highness,” he said, dropping into a bow. “You know it is foolish to do this. Your wedding is in two months, and running away at this stage will bring you nothing but trouble.”
I sighed. [name_f]My[/name_f] betrothed, the [name_m]Crown[/name_m] prince of Tylaria, was the rudest, most spoiled brat of a seventeen year old I had ever met.
“My fiancée is not officially the prince of Etherea yet,” I complained. “Technically, you were chasing the future queen for no good reason.”
Our marriage had been arranged to secure an alliance between our two countries. And, because I was an only child, to secure a man to rule. I would be queen in name only, and I despised it.
I despised him.
Next word: betrothed
Ooh, this is a tricky one! I actually couldn’t figure out a way to work it into my existing story lol. Does it still count as the Fake Teaser Game if I’ve planned this but never written a word of it?
[name_f]Annora[/name_f] sighed, the tension of the past few days heavy in her shoulders. [name_f]Katrien[/name_f] saw her distress and frowned.
“Don’t tell me you’re betrothed to him,” [name_f]Katrien[/name_f] said.
“Would you rather I lied?” asked [name_f]Annora[/name_f]. “I could, if it would make you feel better.”
“Man, you could cut the tension in this room with a knife,” Líadan muttered quietly while helping [name_m]Connor[/name_m] and [name_f]Tallulah[/name_f] with the fire. The three elder Hanlon siblings looked over at their parents, who were in a heated debate about how to handle the treatment of their non-Bender neighbors. Líadan was just thankful little Faolán and [name_f]Bevin[/name_f] were still asleep.
Months earlier
“So, Princess,” he said. “Will you be showing me to our chambers?”
I was shocked. “Our chambers? With all due respect,” I said, None
“Surely you mean your chambers? We aren’t even married!”
He smirked. “Princess, we are betrothed. It’s basically the same thing.”
I glared at him. “We will not be sharing a bed. [name_f]Nor[/name_f] a room, or a hallway. We aren’t even in the same wing! Your chambers are on the opposite side of the castle, and you should be thankful you are even staying in my castle!”
His eyes widened.
“When we marry, I will become queen! You will be king consort, in other words a figurehead!”
Next word: figurehead