《Daughter of Yser》A Family Quarrel
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Raf’s jaw was clenched tight, his eyes focused on the table in front of him. It was never a good sign when my father stopped talking and started lapsing into silence, it only happened when he was truly trying to refrain himself from exploding. Laric sat at the end opposite our father, eyes raised in defiance instead of submitting to the anger and apologizing. The tuft of jet black hair positioned between the two large, curled horns on his head was slicked back and groomed, indicating that he had put some effort into appearing mature and respectful.
“All I meant-“
My father let out a guttural hiss and raised his hand to silence Laric. “You don’t speak until I tell you too.”
Laric snapped his mouth shut and sniffed his disapproval, he was accustomed to getting his way. My brother had a silver tongue and could charm nearly anyone out of anything when he put his mind to it. The rest of my brothers sat uneasily on the fringes of the table along side me, having been summoned to hear Laric’s important news. Now their faces alternated between annoyance for having left important business and barely concealed enjoyment for the fireworks to come.
My father took a deep breath in, then let it out as a long, low rumble. “Am I to understand that you have gone and arranged your own marriage without even consulting me first?”
Laric nodded and rolled his eyes. “I thought you would be happy to cement an alliance at this precarious point in time.” He flicked a piece of lint from his lush silk overcoat, he had always been someone to enjoy the finer things in life. He had always held the belief that he was meant to live in the uppermost laps of luxury and tried to weasel into any situation that fit that end.
My younger brother had always been upset about his birth position, with a few siblings before him, he stood little chance of seeing the throne. I was almost certain that assassination had run through his mind a few times, but he had already made his ambitions a bit too well known to get away with the crime. If even just a whiff of such a plot made it to any of us, I was certain we would take no qualms in banishing him to some far flung plane where he would never return.
Laric had been that annoying sibling who whined about unfairness if any sibling received something and he did not. It had made celebrations of any sort difficult, Laric would spend the whole event vying for the spotlight, even if the event had nothing to do with him whatsoever. One would think that being a prince would be well enough for anyone, but he was never satisfied with anything less than complete control over everything within his reach. Unfortunately for him, he had not been bestowed with the gift of surreptitiousness and wore his thoughts on his face. Regardless, Rotvire and Ivar, my eldest brothers, kept an eye on Laric, following the wise path not to trust his motivations. They had always been very protective of me when Laric was involved. My frustratingly weak powers would make me no match to stand up to him on my own and as the only little sister, there was also their sense of fraternal duty.
“Succubi,” my father growled, “of all the options for allies, you pick the one I like the least.” He began to tap the table before him with his index finger to accentuate his words. “No good has ever come from our family dealing with that lot.”
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“I think that’s because you and grandfather always treated them like common whores,” Laric said with a disdainful sniff.
“They are little better.” Raf leaned back in his chair, a look of contemplation growing on his features in addition to his raw fury. “What did they offer you? You are often a fool, but this is something different all together. I have half a mine to remove you from the line of succession entirely.”
Laric’s lips curled up into a half-smile and he leaned forward over the table. “If you could have a succubus in your bed every night, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Very funny,” my father grumbled, “now answer the question.”
“They offer a chance to be the voice and representation for our kingdom, it’s me they will come to first. Plus, I get to occupy the seat of a monarch as I’ll be wed to the queen.”
Laric locked eyes with me, a look of smug satisfaction on his face. It seemed that he had still held resentment on Toria picking myself over him. He was too arrogant to surmise the reasons why he had been a bad choice.
“A monarch to what?” my father asked with a gruff laugh. “A kingdom full of gossip and backstabbing? You know, I have half a mind to allow this marriage to proceed just on the grounds that I could wash my hands of you and when you came back whining, I could point you back out the door.”
Ivar cleared his throat and even my father fell silent, my second eldest brother rarely spoke. He was more like me in that regard, he tended to weigh things more carefully before speaking. Though, I definitely would not call him level-headed, he as prone to sudden anger and irrational speaking just as much as the others. In fact, his impulsiveness could be more destructive as he spent more time going through with actions rather than speaking them and perhaps being convinced otherwise.
“I would let him go, father,” Ivar said, a slight grin growing on his lips. “He is trouble, we all agree on that, let him go be someone else’s trouble.”
“I agree,” I echoed.
Laric glanced at me, a look of mild surprise on his face. It was not usual for me to be vocal during these kinds of contemptutous family meetings. Typically I felt the subject was petty, erronious, or my opinion wouldn’t be heard, but this time I found the outcome might perhaps further my own goals.
“Well now you know for sure how difficult you are,” my father snorted. “Anyone else think we should rid ourselves of him?”
Heads around the table nodded, not a single sibling had an argument for him to stay.
“I still don’t like that I wasn’t consulted, but I can’t deny that life is likely to be notedly easier without having to worry about you slinking in the shadows.”
My father made a dismissive gesture with his hand and Laric rose to his feet, looking to everyone in the room as if he expected someone to have a change of heart and stop him. When no one reacted, a smug smile tugged at his lips and he rubbed his hands together in a sign of satisfaction.
“I will leave in the morning,” he said, then turned and marched from the room.
“Good riddance,” my father grumbled, his anger not completely assuaged. “Don’t think that this means any of the rest of you can pull something similar. He’s just more trouble than he’s worth.”
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“Good news brothers, and sister,” Rotvire bellowed with a half-grin, “we’re worth something to our dear father.”
Raf sneered and snorted with restrained amusement as he rose from the table, signifying the meeting was complete.
“Oh, I think that’s not quite an accurate picture,” I countered. “I think it’s more a matter that he knows if we band together, he would stand little chance.”
My father glanced at me askance, a dark glint in his eye. It seemed that he was both bothered and impressed by the fact I had the insight.
“Father knows that we would likely never all come together for Laric’s, defense. We know that he would pretty much stab any one of us in the back without much thought,” I continued.
“My back should be included as well,” father grunted.
After tugging down on his doublet to smooth the wrinkles and rolled his shoulders back to an imperial stance, he marched towards the door, though not before laying the barest whisper of a hand on my shoulder as he passed. Since returning to the demon realm to train, father had been peeking into my sessions, though I suspected that he thought I didn’t notice. It was true that most of my demonic powers were woefully inadequate, but my ability to perceive and discern the type of magic used around me was flawless. This was a fact that I had ensured to keep entirely to myself. It had taken no effort on my part to detect the scrying and who was its originator. As gruff and hard as he was on us, I knew he held a secret soft spot for me as his only daughter and in some regards he blamed himself for my lack of magical power.
After the meeting, I returned to the training room to find the trainer had already dismissed himself to whatever strange corner of the castle he inhabited. No one was exactly sure where he resided, it seemed that not only did he not want us to know his true form, but he went to great lengths to give us no chance for any clues at all. His absence was welcome, I knew he favored me over the rest of the lot, but he had more than once shown himself to have loose lips.
Gathering power around me, I felt the immense expanse of demonic potential open below me like a bottomless well. It was a struggle to not be engulfed by the sheer volume of power to be drawn from and I had to press back against it with my own weak power to stop it from crushing me. The surge of power electrified the hairs on my body, causing them to stand on end and tingle uncomfortably. I held the pose like a statue, continuously pushing with all my magical might to keep the conduit open yet at bay, the strain breaking sweat along my brow. I had made a great deal of progress, when I first started I could not withstand the pressure but for a few fleeting seconds. Despite the magical tug of war, I sensed the sphere of power pressing down on me change shape as someone else entered the room, their reaction to push back on the surging magic nearly effortless.
“Mistra,” Laric intoned, a noted amusement in his voice, “I didn’t expect you to summon me in the middle of your training.”
With a swift explosion of will, I snapped myself off from the power and a wave of intense dizziness washed over me, nearly throwing me from my feet. I played off the stumble as more of a step forward and hoped that the cover was not too obvious.
“It is the only time most everyone is uninterested in speaking with me,” I said, turning to face him.
“I see,” he said with a bemused smile, “which makes it all the more odd that my dear sister would want to speak with me during this time. Especially now that I am preparing to leave.”
“I merely wanted to extend my congratulations,” I lied, the corners of my lips curling up at the humorous idea.
“Ha,” Laric laughed, “next you’ll be telling me that you want an invite to the wedding.”
“You did have one to mine.”
Laric puffed up his chest and glared at me. “You were picked over me, we both know I was the obvious choice. I don’t know what kind of deal you managed to make to entice her otherwise, but such underhanded treachery is not so easily forgiven.”
I let out a trilling laugh and stepped towards him, laying my hand on his shoulder in a matronly way. “My dear brother, it would have come to you by now just why my queen refused your advances. You are too ambitious, too cunning, you would have found a path that made you the commander on the throne and her the subservient.”
My brother’s face did not change expression, though his rigid stance had relaxed slightly.
“Besides,” I continued, “is your new arrangement not better? Surely a succubus will be more easily suplimated than a daughter of Yser.”
“What is your plan?” he replied, folding his hands over his chest. “I’m certain now that you have told me to meet you for something you don’t want the others to hear of.”
I let an approving smile form on my face and I took my hand from his shoulder. “I think we both know that neither of us were ever intended to wield regal power, yet here we are. You to be a king and myself a consort to a powerful queen, but I’m inclined to say that my potential is beyond that of a mere consort.”
“I see,” Laric said with a wicked smile, “you wish to ursurp the throne of Yser.”
“No,” I said sharply, then caught his surprised expression, “I mean she is the appropriate monarch in that regard.” I stoicly chose to ignore his mirthful gaze. “I do think that I am the obvious choice for ruler of this realm, however.”
Laric took a deep breath in and began to wander the training room, looking around as if he could find the perfect reply hidden somewhere in the flecks and imperfections in the stone walls.
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