Mystenia's Highway

Genevieve's horse was a large grey speckled creature, with a soft white mane, hidden beneath the trappings that a royal horse regally carried along with a thick purple saddle and various holders. One of these carried the Dowager Queen's staff, while another held her long ornate sword.

Dressed in a grey gown, her head and hair covered with a covered headdress, Genevieve held the horse's reigns as a large entourage of attendants, guards, and ladies maids followed behind and in front. She would have preferred travelling alone. But her position had made that impossible. Not to mention, her young granddaughter had also decided to come with her... the only member of the large group, Genevieve was happy to have along.

Cara rode up beside her Grandmother, her horse was a chocolet brown one, it was still a young horse, a female, she and Cara had grown up together it was the horse Cara had learned to ride on and with such a long journey a head, she wanted a horse she was comfortable on. Plus the horse trusted her as well, so Timberlee, the horses name, was her first choice.

Aside from the sadle and the crests on her cape, and horse she had no other royal gear, her crown was with her mother, as there were time she and timberlee would "horse" around and her crown would fall off. She also had a small dagger in sheath around her side, her first real weapon. Hopefully she wuld not have to use it... thought o doing to sickened her.

Her red-ish hair was braided back to stay out of her eyes, and she wore a plain brown dress, so none of her good onse would get dirty...her mothers idea.

"Ready to go Grandmother" she said with cheerful bow of her head.

The Mystenian Highway was guarded on both sides by tall ancient trees. Each a sentry made of oak, willow or ash. Between the trees, the occasional child peered out, curious as the large group passed by. Perhaps the children were amazed by the splendour of the knights and ladies, or the fact that among the knights, there were those who appeared no older than them. Nevertheless, they stared and were eventually passed.

Genevieve's ladies maids had begged her to take a carriage, but nothing could change her mind. There were too many terrible memories associated with boxes...and box like carriages. She left doors open in rooms, windows had to be cracked, forever assuring her that she would not asphyxiate. Wodon had been unable to understand her fear, as she had never explained it to him... but her senior ladies maids had become used to it.

It had been about two hours since the palace had faded beyond the trees, and Genevieve had yet to speak to Cara. She had spent the time trying desperately to think of something to say... finally it struck her.

"Do you know how long it took your grandfather to capture Mystenia's capital?"

Cara's head perked her head up at the question, she had been day dreaming what the trip would be like. And really she had no idea, all just imagination having lived a very sheltered life, really leaving the castle walls.

"hmm? Oh umm I know that one" she thought for a moment fighting to remember her history lessons.

"oh! I remember it took him 2 years to win over Mystenia, Right?" she said triuphantly.

A gentle smile crossed Genevieve's face. It was not at all a bad idea to see how much Cara knew of Mystenia's history.
"Excellent." she murmured. "Do you know who built the Mystenian capital of Almyst?" This was a harder question... no doubt one that Cara had not been taught. Not desiring to be overly strict, Genevieve made sure to soften the question with a softer tone of voice. Of course...logic could be applied... there were many Jahan's after all...

Cara blinked, that.. she had not been told.... really she was still in the beginning stages of it.

"Ummm.." she muttered trying to see if a name came to her" nothing did... but when ever she had a test or something and she didn't know she would guess.

"Umm... Jaham the 1st?" she said as a comptelete guess not at all confident in her answer.

Ah...so the question had not been that difficult after all.
"Yes... although, he did not name his son Jahan. And therefore Jahan II was his great-great-great-grandson rather than his son." That nicely explained why there were only five of them... but so many years of history in the capital. Mystenia had been a kingdom far longer than the Jahans had ruled though.
"And the symbol of Mystenia?" this was simple... as there was a banner of it in the court. A long black raven glaring with mad eyes as if to dare all about it to say it was tamed.

Cara smiled at first she knew this but then her grandmothers reaction to the black bird in the tree the day earlier came to mind. Perhaps that was why she disiked it so? she was not sure.

But now that she thought about it it made her even more curious about ther destination, normally she felt, respect for ravens and they sparked her imagination, there were days in the trees she liked to watch them. Even the name sounded mysterious to her.

Looking up into the passing trees she saw one, and she whispered.

"A Raven?"

At Cara's whispered reply, Genevieve decided to finish the questions. It no longer interested her... mainly because speaking of Mystenia brought to mind more than pride of ownership. There was also the tormenting and the long hidden memories. Her marriage to Wodon had helped erase the evil thoughts of revenge from her mind, but still they lingered in the shadows. Ironically her parents had sought to have her trained in the ways of the shadow to force her to loose her identity. Instead the shadow held her together, it the very skeleton that kept her alive.

The Raven... why any kingdom would choose a creature that symbolized death to be on their flag was not something Genevieve desired to ponder on. Of course, she knew that her forefather, Haljaha, one of the first kings of Mystenia had had a pet raven that he greatly admired. Perhaps it had been meant to be something familiar. But as a child, the fluttering banners of her father, with the raven decorated on every tower and turret, had brought only feelings of dread and terror.

When Wodon had overtaken Almyst, Genevieve had personally taken the Great Raven from her father's court and had burnt it over a fire. The crackling flames still burned in her mind, extinguishing some of the fire of hatred from her soul. It persisted even after she had removed her brother's head... even after she had had every stone of the hated Shadow Tower crumbled. Twelve years of agony could not be undone by all the centuries of time.

Once agian in silence Cara smiled and took apple out of her side pouch she gae one to her horse grabed one for her self and then turned to her Grand mother.

"Would you like a apple grandmother?" she asked holding out a red apple.

Apples were one of her favorites, she could stay of the apple tree at the palace for ages with the big juicy apples growing on it.

Looking down at the ripe red fruit, Genevieve carefully reached out to take it.
"Thank you." she murmured, tucking it into the saddle pouch. Already she was growing weary. Sadly, the sky was clear and there was no good excuse to stop the party.

~Several hours later~

Genevieve finally made motion for the camp to be made. They had left the wooded road...instead it lay barren on either side of the road, with only the occasional burnt tree to mark it.
The servants scurried to lay out tents as a guard assisted Genevieve from her horse. Exhausted, he all but carried her to her hastily prepared tent. Ladies maids already buzzed about like bees around honey.

Cara hopped off her horse and led her over to a tree tieing her rains up to to the small trunk of it.

Then she walked around the site, she was a little concerned for her grandmother she had seemed really tired. But then she was older perhaps that was why.

She wondered how far they had made it that day, it was strange being to far from home, but the area was beautiful in its own way.

Once her tent was really she told the annoying attentents to leave her be and let her sleep, in actuality she wasn't quite tired, so she got out blank sheets of paper and started to draw. Ironicly enough the image of the Raven have remainded in her mind the whole day.



After finishing she put the drawing under her pillow as it became dark and she went to sleep.
Dreaming of a raven in flames..

After preparing Genvieve for bed, her ladies maids slipped from the tent. Two guards remained to guard the front "door" and another to the side.

Laying on her side, Genevieve stared up at the fluttering fabric that made up the roof of the tent. The large open flap at the back, guarded by two knights, afforded her the air she required and slowly, she sat up in bed, her bottom lip trembling. It was at night that she struggled the most with both her lungs and grief.

But she did not desire to show this weakness, the guards waited for a single sound to report to Lady Mamya. Tears trailed down her cheeks as she began to slowly pace. Finally unable to stand it any longer, she motioned the guards away and sunk down onto the fur covered ground. Sobs of agony mixed with a single scream echoed through the camp and the ladies maids stiffened slightly, but did not go to her aid. It was folly to do so...

Cara jerked awake from the for once peaceful rest by the sound of the scream. Getting up quickly she run from her tent. The blade she Father gave her clasped in her hand.

She looked around and noticed no one was moving and the sound was coming form her grandmothers tent. Were they that draft?

Glareing at them as she made her way to her Grandmother tent she peeked inside to see waht all the fuss was about. To see her grandmother on the floor crying.

Cara's eyes widened for a moment in shock at seeing her grandmother sobbing, it seemed to wrong to her. Having never seen an adult cry before she didn't know what to do. But she conluded unlike the so called ladies maids... they could not leave her like that.

So she inched forward and knielt in front of the woman.

"Grandmother? Whats wrong?" she asked.

Besides Oberon, one of her ladies maids had attempted to comfort her after Wodon's death. The poor woman had not ever done so again, shaking so badly no words crossed her lips as to what the Dowager Queen had done to her.... therefore the ladies maids had good reason to heed but not attempt to stay the sobbing.

Genevieve looked up slowly upon hearing the Cara's voice. Her face calmed almost immediately, a habit so well formed that she was unaware of it taking place. Her long blonde hair had fallen from the net that held it at night and now lay in gentle curls and waves down her back and tear stained face. Matched well with her paleness and grief, she looked much younger than her 57 years.

"Oh dear Cara." she murmured, wondering what awful thoughts her young granddaughter must be thinking. "It is that I miss your grandfather." she confessed, her voice soft but firm.

Cara blinked, her grandfather. She had happy memories of her grandfather.. she could remember her self laughing when ever she saw his face and she remembered the sad faces and her gradfather not being among them.

She said nothing her mother and father still talkedabout the late King Woden to themn mostly for liams benifit a her little brother had no memboires at all.

She moved closer to her grnadmother as if on instinct hugged her grandmother rested her head on her shoulder.

"I miss him to grandmother" she said quietly.

Genevieve gently embraced Cara in return, not accustomed to physical displays of affection but desiring to be comforted and to comfort. Slowly she rubbed soothing circles on Cara's back and sighed, closing her eyes.

"Grief is the only arrow I could not avoid..." she whispered, unaware she had spoken aloud. "Alas it missed my heart and wounded my soul."

Cara listened to her grandmother, she didn't understand really what she ment but she was glad her grandmother was calming down. she never wanted to here her Grandmother scream like that again.

She rubbed her grandmothers back from her spot in her arms, she could begin to imagine how much pain her grandmother was in, she missed her grandfather yes, but her memories were few and blurry, she had barly knew the man, where her grandmother had spent most of her life with him and knew him every much.

"It will be alright grandmother" she wispered.

Genevieve allowed the embrace to continue for another moment and then removed her arms from Cara. Slowly attempting to stand, which turned out better than she had thought, she made the short stagger to her bed and sunk down to sit on its side.

Motioning for Cara to sit beside her, she decided that Cara was indeed a good mixture of Oberon and Cassandra...

Cara got up and went over to her grandmother and sat on the bed, she thought she didn't know what is meant was a insomniac, she couldn't sleep well on most nights, she had been sleeping well tonight though before this, she wouldn't be getting any sleep now. Not that she would tell her grandmother this... It wasn't her fault.

"Are you okay now Grandmother?" she asked simply and quietly.

No... she was not. Truth was one thing that Genevieve held in high regard. Only to soften the truth, did she ever bend it. It had been one of her greatest strengths and she continued to rely on it. Silent but yet truthful. A glance could say more than any word.

Four long tormenting years had hardly lessened the agony that plagued the queen. Some may have thought her weak or foolish to harbour such grief over the death of a man who was to die, had it not been then at that time, then some time later. But the grief and pain went beyond the loss of her beloved.
Contrary to known believe, King Wodon had not died instantly from the poison. And in his last moments, he had confessed his darkest secret to his wife... his infidelity. The truth melded with his death had been too much for Genevieve and thus was why her grief went so deeply. The fact that the truth she had believed in for so many years had been falsely set and the loss of her beloved in more than one way had crushed her. Something she had not told even Oberon. It was enough in her opinion that she suffered with the truth... her son did not need it as well. And in addition... there was a child somewhere in the vast world as proof of her husband's wandering eye.

"Time mends even the shattered heart." she murmured, finding it the best answer. "But yet us think of other things. Will you not tell me why it is you climb your trees?"

Cara looked at her grandmother pensively, not really sure what make of her answer. Was she impling that she in fact was not alright?

Then Cara's face hardened at the question, looking very much like her father.

"Cause the trees is the only place I can ever find peace" she muttered while glaring out side.

"I always have nurses following me everywhere... watching my everymove, and picking at the things I do" she said clearly not at all happy. but that wasn't the entire reason, there was a reason she hated her nursemaids so much.

When she had been little, 5 or 6, she had a very nasty group of nurses, telling her how hopless her was, and she was horrible princess. When she protested to the punishmants the worst one of the group had slapped her.

She had disliked maids ever since.

"I go to trees cause it is the only place they can't follow me" she muttered. she admitted it was fun now to.... but not the right time for silliness.

Better than most could possibly understand, Genevieve did. After all, she had in her own childhood longed for a place of peace... trees had not been high enough, no cave deep enough to hide her. It angered her that her precious granddaughter had similar thoughts. The anger did not make its way to her face despite her darker thoughts.

"You must not hate them so..." she stated, her tone careful. "They have instructions to guard you, at their own pain to fail. To be royal is to be made of glass... for all the world to see." Her nose wrinkled slightly and her eyes lit with a mischievous glint.

"I shall tell you a secret." Genevieve whispered, smiling softly. "When I was your age, I set fire to my master's attendants' bed drapes. It was a cruel act, but burned wonderfully for three hours."

Cara made a scoffing sound when her grandmother said they were there to guard her and treat her like glass, she didn't trust any of them to get close enough anymore.

"Not all of them do..." she muttered.

However she gave a small laugh at her grandmothers story, "I wish I could have seen that" she said with a snicker.