Sora
------------------------------
Time of Ages
( Disclaimer )
o.O Hilde and
Noin are sisters? Duke Dermail’s a Lord
of some
continent somewhere? and Trowa tames dragons?
Year A.C.
202… You’ll get all these answers and more
in this
fic… so read and TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK!!!
*ahem* my muse
got the best of me for this one, right
Callista? ^.-
*Callista enters: ‘Yea, sure, whatever…’
:she leaves*
Callista: She
doesn’t own it!!! None of it!! ;_; So
don’t
sue, she doesn’t have any money anyway…
*grumbles*
( Prologue )
His supreme
majesty Lord Dermail hereby mandates all
able-bodied
females of the noble town of Ailra to
attend a
conference regarding the recent swarms of
elves, dragons,
dwarves, and other such nuisances An
elite group
shall be formed at the conference to rid
the continent
of Ruocal of these bothersome creatures
henceforth.
This extreme honor shall be bestowed upon
select few.
Thursday the Twenty-first of November,
202.
~ Sir Dekim and
Council
*~*
It was the
first anyone had heard of it. Certainly
Lord Dermail
couldn’t have been upset so easily by a
few wandering
dragons… And yet the notice was posted
upon every door
in the town. As she re-read the notice
she played with
the ringlets falling from her auburn
hair, pulled on
her lightest slippers, and hustled out
of the house as
fast as her dress and petticoats would
allow. She had
to talk to the others.
*~*
"So it is
decided then, ladies?" the woman with long,
violet hair,
pulled into a careful and simple up-do,
asked with a
gleam in her dark eyes.
"Yes,"
another said, blue eyes glinting in the soft
light. "We
will be the ones to go." Honey-colored
ringlets
falling from an intricate bun were brushed
aside.
"Finally
out of these restraining things," one more
said. Extreme
length in hair so blonde it was most
nearly white.
She shuffled her petticoats
uncomfortably.
"If we are
chosen." Eyes turned to one of the oldest
women. First,
the only one of the six who was allowed
to wear her
hair down as she pleased; it came with
having a
previous marriage and becoming a widow at
such a young
age. The twisting design of her
dirty-blonde
hair was certainly unusual, simple yet
exciting.
"And why
has he asked for only women?" The other elder
to the women,
not yet married; engaged as were the
rest of them. Violet
hair almost as long as her
sister’s,
although the latter was the younger of the
two, with eyes
to match.
"And what
about our men…" the last commented. "We are
all to be
married in a matter of months… Granted none
of us wish it
in the least, but how are we to deal
with
that?" Six heads fell forward and ringlets sprung
back as the
women thought.
"We will
deal with them when the time comes," the
widow said.
With a sad smile, "At least it’s not your
second time to
be married." Crystalline droplets
formed in her
eyes as a clock struck ten. "Ladies, we
must return
home. Tomorrow we may just free ourselves
from these
confining prisons we call lives."
:. *~*~* .: