Journal Writing I am Proud of

[Melpomene]

As the title suggests, this is kind of a place I will be scrapbooking pieces of writing that I am proud of, but they will not go on to be a full RP or in a novel I am working on. Just a place to keep them nice and neat and perhaps even find inspo from later.

 

[Melpomene]

(Still have not decided if I will go farther with this one or not, because I kinda really enjoyed writing it lol)
They shall look upon our works sister, they shall look upon them and despair.

The etching in the wall seemed to bleed red despite the black stone it was set into. The battle scene, one man embracing another as they fell into mortal toil against the ghastly discontent which had taken over the land. It was a curse that was put upon them, a test laid by the ancients as they were drawn farther and farther into the depths of despair and hatred. To all that looked upon that cursed image of father and son, embraced in death while their daughter and sister looked on in despair, it bled red. And all who sat upon the satin cushions refused to turn their eyes to it, rather keeping their heads level with one another, glancing up at the dais which held their now Queen. The Queen was the only one who dared let her dark gaze fall upon that cursed image, lips parted in a silent protest against it.

Dahlia sat high upon her dais, purple silks falling over her shoulders to come and connect in the middle, leaving her sides exposed before flowing into an elegant skirt. Jewels rested on her wrist and neck, along with a silver band upon her brow, from which a single amulet hung down upon her forehead.

"My radiance?" It was a question. She pulled her eyes from the etching and looked over them. They had begun to fall into mindless drivel and she had yet learned to pay attention to their squabbles. Or at least seem to. At the end they always had what would actually be of use to her. Listening to irrelevant babble had never been a skill, yet her father said it was a skill that was unnecessary if it could even be called such a thing.

Manahi dropped his head as she looked upon him. He was her Eye of the Storm, the chieftan of war. Just as he had been her father's, and likely would have been her elder brother's. He lapped at his cracked lips, eyes glazed over yet still resting upon her, sharp and steady. "They come to surround us. The army is being spread thin."

"We need more men... and stronger forces." Dahlia murmured.

"Yes. But more than that, we will need resources--"

"Everyone is still in disarray about--"

"Yes. It has been hard to ensure the miners continue their duties, but I believe with only a little effort we shall still be able to hold the desert well. Unfortunately, your promised proved a coward." Dahlia felt her lip twitch, but she said nothing more. "But you can still seek a new marriage--"

"The only people who can help us now are the elves and you know good and well they won't do it." Dahlia said haughtily, though she quickly pulled back to return to serenity, letting out a breath through her nose. "I apologise, I did not mean to lose myself, I only think we have been through this one too many times."

"Her radiance speaks correctly," A wiry man stood, his grey hairs had overtaken his black and his eyes were overcome by wrinkles. The hand upon his cane shook with effort, but he still spoke proudly. "The knife-eared bitches to the North care not for what we do. And they certainly care not for a marriage proposal."

"Calm yourself, Unah, they have not actually done anything to us, yet. I would like to keep in good relations." She said as she glanced to the dark elf that sat closer to her dais. He had only grimaced at the crude words of the Hand of Swords. But he simply shook his head as a serene smile returned to his lips.

"My radiance," he said as he stood gracefully, his lean body tilting forward in a bow." Dahlia only managed to look up as her guard, Jardir, stifled a grumble, his hand tightening about his spear as he stepped closer to her. The elven man was newer to court, and despite the fact he had been among them for years, after recent events they had a hard time trusting all who had not been there forever. At the very least Dahlia knew there was no species war going on within her court, only one of the elders and the newly indoctrinated.

"As the Master of Foreign Relations, I believe you do speak correctly. The elven kingdom does not wish to get involved in any battle, with anyone. And all of their princes have been married off, I believe, though I have no doubt they would be happy to have you as their wife."

"Are you done kissing her arse? We have a war to fight." Manahi said as he sat up straighter, the lines about his face deepened as he frowned. "They shall soon break through our second barriers. They fight longer than most... And they navigate the desert better than most.--"

"Pardon, sir, but I do have something else to add." The elf spoke again, then he turned to Dahlia. "I have composed a letter, perhaps we may try negotiating with them--"

"Negotiation? With those mindless brutes?!" Unah cried, his eyes narrowed. "I think it is more likely I shit gold."

"We could attempt. Their leader is a reasonable man, I am sure."

"One set on taking over the desert," Dahlia drawled. "He shall want to get as far as he can before he allows for negotiation if that. He shall attempt to take over as much as possible and leave us desperate and bleeding and then he will ask for us to negotiate with him. Negotiation is for people that wish to avoid war, or find themselves in nor place to continue waging one. He believes in neither. Unless you wish to surrender--"

A chorus of passionate disapproval met her ears. Dahlia dipped her head to the side, a piece of hair fell over her shoulder.

"As I thought. Then we shall not surrender. There will be no letter sent, there shall be war now. That is what he demands and that is what we return. We will strengthen our men, go through the houses and find more to train, they will be more than happy to protect their village, their nation, their very Gods and then they shall die with honor." Truly, all men in the desert wanted nothing more than to know they have met death with honor. "Then, we shall hold against them. We shall fight them with every will of God we have within us. We shall meet their might with our own. We shall overtake them and crush them. We shall send them back to their land and yell for them to remember the desert always burns those that don't know the path to salvation, it always burns those who are unruly and unfit."

Then she tilted her chin up, her lips pursed as she shook her head.

"And if they do come. If the palace is sieged, if they make it here and they hurt my villages and strike my people, then they shall find me upon the throne. Waiting. They shall find me sitting with my head held high and neck bared. They shall find me, not running, but waiting, as none can sit in the throne while I still live. None can dare think to take what is the desert's while I still live. I am the desert, I am the protector of the sands and keeper of the sun. They shall know that when they come. So let them come. The Ancients test us now, and we shall walk out victorious or with the highest of honors." Her hands tightened upon the edge of the dais. The men in the room fell silent. Then solemn nods met her words.

"Either way, we shall be honored." Manahi stood, pressed his hand to his lips, then bowed low towards her. The rest of the men followed. Then the room was left empty. Only she and Jardir remained.

Jardir remained silent. His lips worked but now words came out. He knew her better than any, he had been picked as her guard when he was only twelve and she had just been born. After vigorous training, he was shoved to her side and told to never leave.

"Dahlia... do you believe--"

"If the Ancients will it--" Her voice grew shaky now, as did her hands. How had her father and brother both done this? So boldly so bravely? She lacked their spirit and their wit in battle. Yet now, here she sat.

"If the Ancients will it." Jardir finished. Then he held out his hand. She took it in silence. And in silence, they walked back to her chambers to await the next bout of news which would send them into action.