In the Name of the Emperor

So, here is another part of the grand post that was once called chapter one. Lulz. Well, this is chapter one. :} READ ON PRETTIES!



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Demon? What did he mean by demon? Did she suddenly sprout another head? Did she have a tail coming from her backside? Before another thought could form, she was up and over the side of the crevice and running after Verrun.



"I'm not a demon! WAIT! VERRUN!!!" She called after him. When he didn't stop and turn around, yelling that he had been joking and this was now a game of chase, the unshed tears from earlier came spilling down her face like twin rivers. He hadn't been joking. Why had he said something like that? The faster the tears came down, the faster she ran, except when she knew he wasn't coming back, she'd started for the castle. Being so upset led her to trip and fall a couple of times, successfully skinning her knees and the palms of her hands.



Just outside the castle gates were two guards. They were in green armor and each was equipped with a buckler, a sword and a spear. Their spears were at attention, just like they were and today had been a pleasantly uneventful day. Although, they had noticed the two children running off, they didn't deem it worthy enough to leave their posts. When they heard the sobbing, they looked around. When their eyes landed on a crying child with flame like red hair, they both sighed. It took them a moment to actually realize that she was not striving for attention this time, she was actually crying. They spotted blood and both went running, spears dropped and forgotten. The guard who had been standing on the left, brown hair, brown eyes and a visage that seemed almost common dropped down to his knee, wrapping big, armor clad arms around Jenavive's shaking, crying form.

Noting that his partner had everything covered, the blond haired blue eyed guard who'd been standing on the right, left with a smirk on his face. No one wanted to deal with these children, but when it was necessary, everyone gritted their teeth.



"Jenavive, child, whatever is the matter?!" he checked her over for injuries and noted her palms and knees but other than that, no broken bones.



"V-V-Verrun!H-hefellandbrokehisarmandIfixeditandhecalledmeaDEMON!" In her near hysteria she was shouting and talking so fast that her words slurred together. The guard sighed and sat down on his arse, pulling the child down into his lap for a moment and stroking her hair.



"You have to calm down Jena and tell me what happened slowly." It took a minute but her tears slowed to hiccups.



"Verrun fell and broke his arm. I fixed it for him and he called me a demon..." The tears were still coming down but the sobs had lessened and she was starting to calm. Not much, but enough to tell what had her so upset.



"Is he alright child?" He started moving to stand after hearing what she said but the child just nodded her head.



"I fixed it and he ran away! He was so mean...I want my daddy!" She started sobbing again and turned, burying her face into the guards breastplate. Even though comforting children felt awkward to him, he'd done it enough with his own brothers and sisters to help in this situation. So, he stood and set Jenavive on her feet, then held down two gauntlet covered fingers to her. She grabbed them and used her tunic to wipe her eyes and blow her nose. Very unladylike.



"Your father is in a very important meeting with the King right now Jena. It's alright. I'm sure he didn't mean it. Before you know it, you'll both be-"



"I want my daddy!" Those four words were the undoing of anyone in the palace. Well, those and "Where is My King?" Although there were bets as to who was worse, the King or the Magus; at this moment he was fearing both of them. They were in the same room together. Walking a little stiffly, he started for the castle gates. They walked up and his partner smirked at him. Jena proceeded to stomp on his unarmored foot and smush his toes into the ground. And then she started into the castle.



The sniffling and silent tears were getting on his nerves. So, he looked down at her sweetly and wiped away the wet stains on her face. "Hush child. It will be fine."



"O-okay." She took a last sniff and inhaled, holding her breath until the tears stopped and let it out slowly. When the started walking again, she looked up at the guard and quirked a brow. "What meeting?" For a moment, he was confused but it didn't last long. Swallowing thickly, he kept his eyes forward.



"I cannot tell you young Lady."



"You know they'll just call me in there anyways." When put that way, she was more than likely right. She clung to his fingers and he just stared ahead. He loathed children. Smart ones were all the worse.



"It is about the--" he paused for a moment," the attacks our neighbors in the East have been suffering. They say they are the work of demons."



"Demons?" her face twisted in thought.



"Aye. Or that is what they have been reported as being. They are running rampant, killing everything man, woman and child. Where their big hooves land the earth turns black and charred."



"Oh."



"Your father has been very busy lately and very stressed. He's been working furiously trying to find a way to protect the kingdom and you. I doubt he will be happy to learn you went outside the castle." Well, at least he could scare her a little bit. A small bit of revenge, and it might get her to stop being so curious. Except when she looked up at him, swirling silver eyes full of an intelligence much beyond her years with a sweet smile on her face, he wondered how often she manipulated even her father.



"Do you really think my daddy is going to punish me?" Of course, she could talk her way out of a paper sack.



"With how stressed he has been lately? It's quite possible. And weren't your forbade to go to the ruins?" Her silvery eyes widened and she turned her head forward, chewing on her lower lip. As they walked, she was completely oblivious to the grandeur she lived in. The child didn't really pay attention to the marbled floors her leather padded feet walked upon, the expensive paintings on the walls, the ancient suits of armor lining the halls nor the weapons. As the child of the Grand Magus and favored of the King she had been raised within these walls and treated with the respect given to none other than those of Royal blood themselves. Not even other Noble's garnered such treatment.



"You know, you are really nice."



"Thank you." The guard blushed a little.



"You should be my guard."



"But I guard the gates."



"I need a personal guard however. I think I'll talk to the King and have him promote you to my guard. I like you." She smiled up big and brightly. His only thoughts were about making his last will and how he wished the child would leave well enough ALONE.



"But I like my job." He tried to save himself.



"I'm going to talk to the King anyway. You're tall enough to help me get to-"



"Please don't." It was whispered but the hearing of children was sharp as ever. she stopped walking and turned to stare up at him. Snatching her fingers away, she glared daggers at him. He was never one for prayer, but in that moment, he praised every deity he knew of.



"You just don't like me." Her voice lowered and she looked to the ground. "No one likes me. They think I'm a burden. Spoiled. Not worthy of attention." Jenavive whispered the last. The tears started again and she turned, running at full speeds down the hall. The guard covered his face with his hands and shook his head. Well, there went his life as a palace soldier and maybe his life at all. No doubt she would cry to the King, since she had him wrapped around her little finger, and the giant of a man would come down and decapitate him where he stand. Whoever hurt that girl in any way had signed their own death sentence, and he'd seen it before. Walking back to his post, he preyed he would make it through the day.





Jenavive ran to the throne room doors, which were shut and looked at the two soldiers posted at each end. One of them smiled and then frowned. Jenavive looked at him and glared. "I don't like you." She tried to push the doors open, but they were made of thick stone slabs and her child-like body couldn't even budge them. Looking at the opposite guard she pointed to the door. "Let me in."



"As you wish m'lady." See, this one was much nicer! His door opened just enough for her to squeeze in before it was shut as quietly as possible behind her. Jenavive moved as quietly as she could. Why? If they were in as important a meeting as the guard had said, then she would miss vital information if she were loud. So, she slinked up the gold rug behind her father whom was standing in the center of the room. He was dressed in his usual garb; a robe of gray adorned with a dark blue sash around the waist which garnered the clearest blue, circular sapphires known in the kingdom. The man himself was about six heads tall and harbored the same fire red hair and silver eyes as his child. He was lean and could sword fight with the best of them, but his focus lay almost entirely in his spell work.



Peeking around her father was none other than the King. His face had been rather demure because he obviously did not like the news he was hearing. Once his green eyes landed on her tiptoeing form, his face perked up, he straightened in his chair and smiled. She giggled and started running at him. Although, when her father turned and looked down at her, she froze completely and looked at him in worry.



"Oh posh. Come here child. And Galrick, stop scaring her like that would you?" He patted his lap and without a second thought, Jenavive ran over and jumped. His arms, bigger around than her head, wrapped around her and he squeezed a little. A big hand rubbed over her red curls as she turned and got situated.



"Father, if we could get back to our discussion?" Jenavive turned her head and looked to the Prince who stood to her right. Maricce and she didn't get along very well. Why couldn't he just let loose a little? He was always so up tight and all about his business. She thought him a stuck up snob and he thought her a little hell-monkey bent on distorting his Grand Father's mind. She stuck out her tongue and because he was the epitome of "social perfection" the only outward sign he gave of his grave annoyance and irritation was the throbbing of a vein in his forehead. Battle won, she turned and looked at the King.



"Hi King."



"Hello Child."