Shadowdancer 912 years. Today had marked that they had survived 12 years. So many changes had happened to the twins, changes for good or ill. Today would also mark a new stepping stone in this dark world. Matron Shyntyl sat in her chair. A slave stood just to one side, separating the matron's long, silvery strands into sections with a spider-bone comb. Purple dye had streaked the ends adding color to otherwise perfect hair. Zebeycyrl strode into her mother's chamber confidently. Her deep blue robe neatly pressed against her lithe form, a two headed snake scourge in her belt.
"Twelve," she said bluntly.
The handmaid said nothing as she continued braiding the matriarch's hair into long, thin threads before pinning them behind an elegant ear and moving to the next section. The matron mother smirked, knowing exactly what this was about. Just a couple days ago, they had watched as the youngest Kilanatlar slay her favorite slave. It was reminiscent of what matrons often were called to do with their favori
Shadowdancer 8The day began as usual, a day of being locked up and sneaking out. A few more days would mark their twelfth birthday. If things remained on schedule, one year till freedom. Zarae was released at lunch, having returned from her outing just in time to not get caught by Zebeycyrl. Surprisingly, Zarae was told to take the tome and go to her own room after the meal. The drowling didn't hide her joy in not returning, a fact which annoyed the assassin.
Down in dining hall, Zarae enjoyed a plate of fried rothe strips, alone. Not even Myrurra was present to pick on. Bored, she carried her plate into the kitchen. The half orc had been replaced by a scrawny human male. This only caused her to wonder how in the demonweb pits he was able to see. The slave collars didn't have any special benefits she knew of, only that it would not allow a slave to attack one of the family members and forced slaves to obey. At first glance he seamed rather pathetic. But he had a magical aura about him. At one time t
Shadowdancer 7"Your voice must roll that syllable. Try again," Izzmurss replied stoically. "Kyirilan ela oycc eo irecala illw irecwla kyilanam."
The practiced wizard repeated the phrase of the simple cantrip. He did not move his hands so as to actually cast the spell. Each word made the air crackle with power, but it did nothing and fizzled out as intended. It was about learning how to chant the arcane words of spells, how to get the right pitch, the correct tones, the proper phonetic combination. The wand tapped Nilrae's jaw. So he adjusted his head to better pronounce the words. The wizard nodded as his fourth attempt at the phrase was correct.
"Let's try a harder phrase," Izzmurss began.
"Ela anirel, ela fecw,
ela laestgo, ela stecw.
Anira ailmanir kya latyill,
ane tymaa ytyel liill."
The energy was stronger, but again it did not have the required parts and thus only fizzled out after the words were finished. The two continued most of the day, only breaking for a short lunch before returning to p