db397@FreeNet.Carleton.CA (Andrea Principe)

SENTINEL ROSE
(Related to Sailor Moon Magic)

Part 1: Meet Silantro, Enter the Negaverse, Enter Xeryus

        Darian grinned as his urged his horse to gallop yet faster. He was
riding his favorite mount, it was a fine sunny spring day, and for once, he
was winning.
        Alongside of him raced Silantro Bladesemmer, his closest friend. They
flew along the forest paths in good-natured competition. Silantro usually won
races such as this, but the young prince felt lucky this day.
        "You'll never win, you know!" Silantro yelled.
        "Why ever not?" Darian demanded as he spared a quick glance over his
shoulder. Silantro laughed.
        "Because that tree branch is really low." Darian was suddenly slammed
from the saddle and fell heavily to the ground, rolled a few feet, and then
lay sprawled.
        "Good job!" chuckled Sil as he stood over Darian, "Boy, you won't
be sitting comfortably for a while." Darian groaned and shook his head to
clear it as he struggled into sitting position.
        "You didn't exactly win either," he pointed out.
        "True. But 'tis not every day the Crown Prince falls on his ass so
hard!"
        "Ah, but you fall just as hard for any reasonably pretty girl who
comes your way."
        "Some of us like girls, Darian."
        "Hello! I just haven't met anyone I like yet, that's all," Darian
stated defensively.
        "You'll find someone someday," Silantro grunted as he pulled Darian
to his feet.
        "I'm beginning to wonder," Darian said sourly as he brushed himself
off.
        "How so? Oh, by the way, your horse ran that-a-way."
        "We'd better get going before she goes too far."
        The horse was fairly easy to follow, and Darian and Silantro, while
not exactly stupendous with woodslore, picked up the trail with relative
ease. As they loped down the path at an easy pace, leading Silantro's steed,
they resumed their conversation.
        "It's just that no matter how many women I meet at all the Royal
Balls, the courtly missions, the sneaking into bars in the city...I just get
the feeling that there's no suitable bride for me out there."
        "Or at least one your father approves of," Silantro noted.
        "You don't know how lucky you are, Sil. You're a nobleman, but you
get to marry any girl you choose. No one even pressures you to choose at all.
I think my father will just pick someone for me soon."
        "If that's true, Lady Elizabette is probably who he'll pick. She's
quite pretty."
        "She has no sense of adventure, she's boring. Is beauty the *only*
factor you ever consider Silantro?"
        "As a matter of fact, it's the main one," Silantro laughed.
        "You're absolutely revolting," Darian grinned and shoved Silantro
off the path. Silantro, totally off guard, stumbled and fell into the mud.
        "Oooh, my ankle!" he groaned.
        "As if! Quit that! I fell for it once before, I'll not fall prey to
that trick a second time," Darian snorted, recalling a time when Silantro
had faked a similar injury and had pulled him into a fountain.
        "No, really...I think I twisted it!"  Darian carefully looked at
Silantro. He was a prankster, but he seemed to be in genuine pain. Darian
sighed, tied Sil's horse to a tree, and held out his hand. Silantro grinned
and, of course, pulled Darian into the muck. He howled with glee as Darian
gasped and spat out a mouthful of mud. Darian responded by tossing a glob
of mud at Silantro. Silantro retaliated and soon there was an all-out mud
war.
        After the mud-flinging had ceased and Silantro had nearly drowned,
they both lay breathless on their backs, completely filthy.
        "You...are....so...naive," panted Silantro.
        "Shut... up."
        Silantro suddenly sat up.
        "Shh!"
        Darian looked at Silantro, who had his head cocked to one side. After
a few moments of bewilderment, Darian enquired, "What is it?"
        "I think I heard something...could be your horse." He pointed at the
bushes.
        Darian stood easily. Silantro attempted to stand but collapsed.
Darian caught him.
        "You weren't lying about the ankle?"
        "No!"
        Darian supported him as they tried to make their way through the
brush as silently as possible. Soon, they could tell that the rustling was
very close...just past the bushes ahead.
        Darian pushed aside the foliage. He gasped.
        He had found his horse.
        The noble charger lay on her side on the grass, barely breathing.
Strange wisps of white energy flowed from her. Standing over the horse was a
man with blonde, shoulder length hair, bright green eyes, and a charming
smile. He wore a gray uniform with red trim. Above his outstretched palm, a
glowing ball of energy grew.
        "Hullo," he said cheerily.
        "What the hell did you do to my horse?" Darian drew his sword and
stepped into the clearing. Silantro, momentarily forgotten, fell to the
ground with a yelp of surprise.
        "Just a quick energy collection for the Negaverse," the man stated
flippantly, "And I think a strapping young man such as yourself would be a
fine source as well!" A pike materialized in his hand as he lunged for
Darian.
        Darian was momentarily stunned (where had that pike come from?) but
blocked the man's blow nonetheless, but not easily. Darian was strong from
long hours spent sparring with his trainer, the swordsmaster Aragorn, but
this man was beyond human.
        "Who are you?" he gasped as they circled each other. Darian realized
he was no match for this man as he was to busy defending to get an attack in.
He was practically dancing to avoid the pike and bled from numerous shallow
wounds.
        "Funny, people always ask me that, right before I kill them!" The
pike swung in low and would have separated Darian's legs from his feet had
he not jumped in time. He landed on a root and stumbled, falling on one knee.
The flat of the pike's blade slammed against his wrist. Darian's fingers went
numb instantly and his sword went flying from his grasp. He was now
defenseless. The man spun the pike to change his grip and angled it down at
Darian's heart. Darian looked in to the man's eyes and saw no mercy there.
        There was a flash of silver as sunlight glinted off a dagger that
had just been thrown in to the man's side. Darian turned around to see
Silantro. shakily walking towards him. His opponent clutched his side in
pain. The slender dagger embedded there was Silantro's. Darian scrambled and
retrieved his sword. He stood over the man and slashed downwards. To his
surprise, he hit dirt.
        The man was gone, no trace of his existence save a few red sparkles
which vanished in moments. He cursed, then turned to Silantro.
        "Thank you, my friend. Are you all right?"
        "I'm pretty much fine now. But neither of us will be if we don't get
back to the palace right now!"
        "My brother! We'll never get there in time!"
                        *       *       *       *

        Three rapid knocks sounded on the heavy oaken door to Darian's
private chambers as he dunked his head into the washbowl and scrubbed a bit
to get the mud out. He quickly toweled it so his hair wouldn't be dripping
wet as he answered the door.
        Silantro stood on in the hall, looking impatient but quite spiffy.
He was the same height as Darian, but more slender. He had light brown eyes
and fine, medium brown hair tied into a short ponytail at the base of his
neck. Silantro had changed out of his riding clothes and now wore black
pants, a white shirt, and a blue tabard with gold trim. The crest of the
Bladesemmer family, a pair of crossed sabres, was stitched in gold thread
over his heart. He also carried the traditional Bladesemmer weapon, a sabre,
sheathed at his side.
        Darian was also dressed in his courtly attire, considerably better
protected than his friend in his night blue and black armor, sword sheathed
at his side. He carefully avoided catching his long red and black cape in the
door as he shut it.
        "We are so late, I hope they didn't start without us!" he groaned as
they started running down the marble hallways.
        "Hah! And do you know, my shirt was completely ruined by the mud!"
        "I don't know why you insist on wearing silk out riding!"
        "I like to look good!"
        "You're such a fop!"
        "I've got more girlfriends!"
        "Arrgh!"
                        *       *       *       *

        The Great Hall was splendid. It was very large, and today it was
lit beautifully by the sunset through the magnificent stained-glass window
high above the dias on which rested the thrones of the King and Queen.
        The stained-glass window portrayed a red rose, symbol of the Royal
House, on a blue field. No one knew who had made the window, as the date of
it's creation and it's creator where no where to be found in the castle
records. No one knew how the the dyes had been fabricated, or how such a
huge window could be put together so flawlessly.
        Bright pennants with the noble family's crests hung from the roof.
The assembled Court crowded the floor, save in the red carpeted path leading
from the main door up to the dias.
        Silantro slipped in unnoticed, but Darian was not so fortunate. The
Crown Prince never gets away with being late. As he climbed the steps up to
the dias, his father gave him a stern look which clearly stated he had a lot
of explaining to do. King Aldaric looked very noble in his armor, much like
Prince Darian's except with gold trim, and his wife, Queen Vairalyn, looked
equally elegant in her white gown. They both wore small gold crowns set with
sapphires. Darian was used to getting stern looks from his father, with his
black beard and sharp brown eyes, but the cold look from his mother made him
feel very uncomfortable and much too warm in his armor. He took his place,
to the left of his father, and was glad when the trumpets sounded a fanfare
and all eyes turned towards King Aldaric.
        "Assembled nobles of the court," the brawny king's baritone boomed
and carried easily throughout the entire Great Hall, "I am very proud this
day, for this day, my youngest son comes of age and joins this court. I
present to you, Prince Xeryus!" The fanfare sounded again and the massive
oaken main doors swung open. Prince Xeryus entered the Great Hall.
        He wore the same armor as Darian, shared the same handsome features,
jet black hair, and their mother's blue eyes. There the similarities between
the brothers ended.
        Xeryus was not nearly as muscular as Darian and had the pale
complexion of one who rarely steps into sunlight. In fact he had been ill
often as a child, and even now wasn't terribly strong. He had never developed
a love of the outdoors, either.
        Xeryus always wore a crooked smile; his hair was longer than Darian's
and hung over his ears. The forelocks often hung over his eyes. He wore a
slender rapier at his waist (he was too weak to use a heavy sword like
Darian's).
        Xeryus strolled down the carpeting at a leisurely pace, almost a
swagger, to the enthusiastic applause of the nobles. Darian looked directly
under the Bladesemmer's pennant hanging from the ceiling (Silantro always
stood beneath it so Darian could find him in the crowd) and caught Silantro's
eyes. Silantro shrugged and raised his eyebrows. Who would have known frail
little Xeryus would be so popular?
        Xeryus had reached the dias and now knelt on one knee. Solemnly, he
withdrew his rapier and presented it hilt first to King Aldaric, head bowed.
        "I hereby pledge my undying loyalty to thee, my King."
        King Aldaric reversed the blade and handed it back to Xeryus.
        "Then rise, Xeryus. You have come of age and are now Prince Xeryus!"
As Xeryus grasped the rapier's hilt and stood, the crowd roared its approval.
        Xeryus raised his head and smiled. His features were bathed in the
glow of the sunset that was stained red by its passage through the
window.
        "Let the festivities begin!"

                        *       *       *       *

A Small Pronunciation Guide

Xeryus = Zeer-ee-us
Silantro = Sil-ann-trow
Magist = Mayge-ist
Magus = Mayge-us
Bowenite = Bow(like rainBOW)-n-ite
Scheelite = Ski-lite (much like Scheel-o)
Lucinite = Lue-sin-ite
Variscite = Vair-iss-site

--
*While many streets are named for trees, or presidents, relatively few are
named for diseases.
*Traditionally, the poorest-selling soup variety has been creme of marmot.
*Chunky toothpaste never quite caught on.  -ABRELL AND THOMPSON'S ACTUAL FACTS