Wootness...I decided to post the story that I'd started back in September of last year, a few of you have read it (sorry) and I have made changes though, *points to title* the title has also changed several times due to the fact that I can't decide on one ^^''' anywho, I've got lots of it, but I'll just put up a few pages to begin with. I'd love suggestions and comments on it if you read it!!! 
Ebony Skies and Crymson Hearts
By:"Sey"
Azleia was sitting in a small, musty smelling room. Soft light poured through the tower window, but the smell remained inside. There were volumes upon volumes of books in the room and their moldy, archaic smell would probably never be gone.
“Azleia, do you know the answer?” asked the old man standing in front of her desk. He looked ancient; he had long white hair and dull, green eyes. She supposed those eyes had seen a lot and had many stories to tell. Unfortunately for her, today was not her day for paying attention.
“Sorry, Master Siberus. What was the question?” She blinked back into reality.
He sighed and looked at the girl. She was a little over five feet tall and had dark, piercing blue eyes. Her dark chocolate coloured hair reached to her waist. He could still remember her as a small child with those big blue eyes. “Just because you’re the princess doesn’t mean you can slack off in your education, in fact, that means you should definitely get a good education, a stupid ruler does the people no good.” He couldn’t stand for someone as smart as her to lose out on any part of her education.
“I know, I was just thinking,” she muttered.
“Yes, well, think about the topic, would you. The question was what ancient family line fled from Saumira nearly seventeen years ago?”
“The, um…” she thought for a moment. She was completely blank. A name came to her, “Kimora?”
“Are you sure?” he narrowed his eyes and looked at her icily.
“I think so,” she winced, waiting to be scolded.
“You need to be certain, don’t guess.”
She sighed, hunching her shoulders. “Okay, who was it?”
“Oh, you were right, but you weren’t certain, so you may as well have been wrong. How many times must I discuss this with you Azleia?”
She frowned. “I know. I want to be a good ruler, but I just need time to think. I am a young adult now. I have things on my mind.”
“Yes, seventeen, and you’re not married. Most girls your age are getting married.” It was always the unwanted topics when she was least prepared for them.
“Yeah, and they’ll have ten kids before I’m even married. I’m not in a hurry to get married to some old man I don’t know, not that father would make me marry someone that old.”
“You’d be surprised, most marriages between nobles are purely political. You will have to marry soon. Your father has discussed it with you, has he not?” Siberus knew this for a fact; as the King’s most trusted adviser, he had told Siberus personally that she’d have to get married, and soon.
She thought back to her fifteenth birthday when he had first mentioned her seriously getting married. It had only gotten worse since then, she preferred to ignore it. “He said that if I’m not married within the next year, he’ll arrange one.” There were tears in her eyes, she was terrified of marrying someone she didn’t like, but she knew her father had been kind about it so far.
Siberus noticed the tears welling up in her eyes. “Which is why you must choose someone good, like me, eh?” He laughed and tousled her hair. She laughed.
“If you were about ninety years younger.”
“Aye. You know I’m not serious, right?” .
“Of course I do, you’re like an uncle to me. Anyway, everyone knows you fancy the cook. You should speak with her. She could be the one for you.”
“What made you think that I fancy her?” he asked hastily, his face turning red.
“It’s obvious.” Azleia smiled at him.
“How did we get on this topic anyway? You need to study! I want you to take this book with you and read the next ten pages tonight. You’ll have a test over it tomorrow.”
“I won’t mention it again, if this is what my punishment is,” she muttered.
“Off you go now. Your father wanted to see you in his study after your lessons.”
“Great. More lectures…” She got up from her desk, cradling the huge book in her arms, and left the room. She walked down the corridor, her purple cloak flowing behind her. As she walked down the hallway, it became more and more decorated. She had never liked the decorations; they were too cramped together and didn’t look right where they had been placed. The servants passing her bowed quickly and continued on their way. She smiled at them in return. She had reached her father’s study. She took a deep breath and knocked on the door. “Father?”
“Enter, Azleia,” said a booming voice. Azleia opened the door. Her father was a middle-aged man with short, cropped, light brown hair and eyes that twinkled like stars. His voice always boomed like thunder, but to Azleia it was a soft thunder, unless he was angry. She was glad that he hadn’t sounded angry.
“You wanted to speak to me?”
“Yes. Sit down Azleia.” He pointed to her favorite chair in the study. She liked to come sit in the study and read. She had her own, but something about this one was more welcoming. She had a sudden sense of foreboding. She looked at her father nervously. He tried to smile at her, small wrinkles appearing at the corner of his eyes. That was a bad sign, he had to force a smile.
“Azleia, you know what this is about don’t you?”
She groaned and buried her head in her small hands. “Yes. Marriage?”
“You know I want you to be happy, but Azleia, you have to get married soon. If you don’t have an engagement before Christmas, I’ll have to pick someone for you, it’s almost October now, so you have some time. I don’t want to do this, but this is how things are. I’m even willing to give you your own choice, within reason, if you think you can love that person. I hope you can choose wisely.”
“Father,” she whispered, “how could you?”
“I’ve explained it to you, the line must carry on, you’ll be ruler even when you marry, so don’t worry about losing power. You know this kingdom gives the rightful rule to the heir, male or female. All of the previous Queens and Princesses were married before they reached your age now.” He stood and tried to give his daughter a hug, but she shrugged him off.
“I don’t want to marry anyone until I’m ready.”
He put a strong hand lightly on her shoulder. “Don’t you realize how much I’m risking by being this lenient? I love you Azleia, but this is something you have to do. If something happens to me before you’re married, the kingdom will collapse, it has happened to other kingdoms around us. I don’t want you to be a part of that chaos.” He turned abruptly and left, ending the discussion as was his custom when he felt enough had been said.
Azleia sat in the chair, tears streaming down her pale face. She was furious, but she couldn’t help but cry. Her dark hair covered her face as she walked down the hallway to her room. She wondered if it was possible to find love in a few months time. She highly doubted it.
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Sano sat in his second period calculus classroom and stared out the window. He had his chin resting on his hand.
“Sano, what is the answer to number seven?” asked his teacher. He glanced down quickly at the text in front of him. He sighed internally; he hated math.
“Plus or minus the square root of three.”
“That is correct,” said the teacher, who wasn't surprised at this. Most of the time students that were staring out the window had no idea what was going on in class, but no matter how many times she tried to catch Sano off guard, he could pull out the correct answer. The bell rang and Sano rushed out the door. ‘On to another class that’s just like all the ones I’ve had in the past how many years?’ he thought to himself. He was in year eleven at Westingmont Academy, one more year until he graduated.
Sano walked into the chemistry classroom. He sat down at the desk that always had only one person sitting at it. He didn’t like to work with a partner; they were always doing something wrong because they couldn’t follow directions. He sighed, ‘Same boring schedule day after day. Why can’t there be something interesting to do here?’ he asked himself, and continued on with his day.
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Azleia stepped onto the cold stone floor. Something had woken her from her sleep. She couldn’t remember what it had been, but she knew something was wrong. Her bare feet padded softly on the stone. She heard something, a soft, whisper-like muttering. The more she listened, the louder it grew and the more it seemed like a chant. She lit a candle. She was deep within the castle walls in a windowless room--one of her private chambers.
Like a shockwave she felt a strange, cool, tingling sensation. All at once the sleepiness faded from her. She realized what the chant she heard was; a long, continuous string of spells. Her heart beat quickly in her chest. She had to stop them. It wasn’t the magic of anyone she knew and it was a death spell. The small candle barely lit her dark room. She didn’t bother to put on her cloak; the chanter had to be stopped.
She left her room, the candle casting soft light upon her delicate face. She ran along the cold corridor. The torches that always lit it had burned out. She looked ahead; the small candle didn’t light but a few inches in front of her. She peered into the darkness; ready to scold the guards that had let them go out. She realized that the guards were gone.
“This is very bad,” she said aloud as she broke into a fast run. It seemed like an eternity until she found the room she was looking for. By now the chant was even louder. Why hadn’t anyone else come to see what the noise was? She was at the door to the spell room. It was a dark, heavy, wooden door covered with strange markings and symbols. She rushed in, looking for the source of the spells.
The floor of the room was covered in hundreds of candles, it had no windows and it took all of the candles to light it up. Standing in the center of the room was a young man wearing a cloak. He didn’t look up or stop chanting as Azleia entered the room; he was in deep concentration. His black hair was pulled back and the candles gave his face a ghostly pallor.
“Stop!” she shouted and ran towards the chanter.
He looked up in surprise. His green eyes mocked her. “How did you discover me?” he had an arrogant tone.
Azleia came closer, careful to not burn herself on a candle as she passed, although the heat of the candles was welcoming in the cold room. “I heard you. It wasn’t that hard to follow your voice; you were very loud and there is only one spell room in the castle.”
“Loud!? I could barely hear myself. There’s no way you could have heard me,” once again he sounded arrogant.
“Why are you doing this? You know it’s forbidden.”
“Forbidden? To cast a spell? I think not,” he snorted.
“It’s forbidden to cast a spell like that. It’s only use is to injure or kill, and since we’re not at war, it is most definitely forbidden,” she stated matter-of-factly.
“How would YOU know a----,” he stopped. The man had just noticed what Azleia was wearing. In her haste, she hadn’t put on a cloak and was wearing something that she would’ve never worn out of her room; a light green night dress that was just above knee-length. “Why did you come here?” he asked, smiling.
“To stop you,” she said firmly. She was growing nervous. She pushed one side of her hair behind her ear as she tried to hide her anxiety. She had fallen asleep reading and still had on a small golden circlet around her head.
“Is that so? How do you plan to stop me? I’m almost finished. The guards were easy to take care of, Princess Azleia.”
She didn’t blink as he said her name. “I’m permitted to take any means necessary to stop you. Don’t make me. You should just give up and turn yourself in.” The man stepped forward. Azleia stood her ground, her dark blue eyes shining fiercely in the glow of the candles. “Who are you? What or who, should I say, were you going to use the spell on?”
“I will tell you my name because you need to know who your new King will be. I am Vadano, and the spell, my dear, was for your father, the King.”
Azleia gasped, “why? It does you no good! The people will never allow a person like you to rule!”
Vadano smiled, his teeth looked like all of them had been filed to vicious points. “Then I’ll just have to kill them too.”
“You traitor!” she screamed, hoping to get the attention of the household. “‘Ush nur ei diyt!’” she shouted. Vadano was thrown off of his feet. “Kill my father or the people of this kingdom and you’ll suffer a fate worse than any death. Surrender NOW,” she glared at him. She was ready to attack, for the kill if necessary, she would let no one would hurt her family.
“Never. If I would risk all of this, why give up now? I’ll do away with you and continue on as planned. ‘Tir rien de nur…’” He would run this little wretch right off the balcony in her own castle. Everyone would just think she did it to escape her troubles and that would be the end of it, no more king, no princess, no heir…a perfect situation for him to step into the power he so strongly craved.
Azleia began to run away, her feet having a mind of their own. “No! Stop it!” she yelled.
Vadano tried to finish the spell, but Azleia was countering it. “‘Au de cra--’” there was a flash of light and Azleia was blinded, but her feet continued to carry her away.
Sano walked silently down the dorm hallway. His footsteps made no sound as he moved further away from his room. He’d woken up and needed some fresh air.
Suddenly, there was a flash of light and he heard a voice say “‘Au de cra.’” It sounded as though it had been cut short. He ran towards where he had seen the flash of light, turning the corner in the hall, he thought, ‘It’s probably nothing, but still…’
Azleia was still seeing spots from the flash and had no idea where her cursed feet were taking her. Suddenly, something hard crashed into her, knocking her to the ground, the object landed on top. Her arms wrapped around something. She felt something hard and cold press against her lips and she let out a cry of pain from the fall. She opened her eyes.
It was a boy that had landed on her and was kissing her! What in the world is going on? She asked herself.
A door had opened the second they hit the floor. “Sano, is that you? What are you do--?” It was a boy’s voice. “O-okay? Sorry…” he said and went back to his room, rubbing his eyes. Neither of them had heard him. The whole ordeal hadn’t lasted but a few seconds. The boy called Sano blushed and raised his head. He looked at her as he got up and offered her his hand. She took it awkwardly and stood up.
