Singing Rains [Spring 2023 Dainty Prompt]

“𝕴𝖙 𝖘𝖊𝖊𝖒𝖘 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖗𝖆𝖎𝖓𝖘 𝖜𝖔𝖓’𝖙 𝖇𝖊 𝖈𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖆𝖓𝖞 𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖊 𝖘𝖔𝖔𝖓.”

Kästiel spoke with certainty, her arms folded on the windowsill that overlooked the courtyard. 

“Why they choose to hold these tournaments in the beginning of spring, I shall never understand; year after year, the gutters are filled with rainwater and there’s naught but mud and gray skies over the entirety of the realm.”

Her wings shuddered with agitation as she drew back, eyes slipping closed as she listened to the pitter-patter of the raindrops. Complain as she might, she quite enjoyed the rain; the scent of freshly watered earth, and the melodic songs it played as it blanketed everything as far as the eye could see. Gloved fingertips splayed lightly over the pommel of the sword sheathed at her hip, mimicking the rain in their own way.

“Pardon me, ma’am,” A guard approached her, bringing himself to a halt a respectful distance away- namely, out of reach of her wing and sword both. “The trainees are awaiting you in the barracks below,” He paused, glancing towards the open window, its stained glass sparkling with the added water droplets that adorned its surface. “Unless, of course… you've got something better to do?”

Kästiel whirled about, her eyes narrowing as she removed her grip from her blade. Violence in the castle wouldn’t do, no matter how out of place the guard had been; but it was an attitude she’d grown accustomed to, being of a foreign race in a place of power that she’d clawed her way to attain.

“No, Eshiel.” Her tone was even, her posture straightening as she took a heavy step towards him. “Rather, I believe the whelps can bide their time for a few more minutes whilst you and I discuss your apparent disregard for your superiors?” 

The man supposedly named Eshiel shrank away, giving her a once-over before dismissing himself with a sloppy salute. When he’d rounded the corner and was outside of earshot, Kästiel once again allowed herself to relax, shoulders drooping even further than they had been previously. She made a mental note to discuss with her Captain the constant ire that she seemed to attract, and in the same second, disregarded it as futility, and strode down the hall towards the barracks.

“The tournament will be held three suns from today,” She began, her chin tilted slightly upwards as she addressed the crowd of eager trainees that filled the room before her. “Some of you have been training for this moment your entire lives. Others have found themselves on this path by accident. It matters not what your heritage is, or how proud your father might be; when it comes to the tournament, the only thing you can count on is yourself.”

“Miss, is there a danger of being killed in the games?”

The question echoed throughout the hall as the crowd parted to reveal its speaker; a small, mousy character who stood in the center of the room, trembling from head to foot with a sword in his hand. He readjusted his grip on the training blade, attempting to stand tall.

“Yes.”

Her answer was absolute, but not without a tone of sympathy.

“There is always a chance, when dealing with real weaponry, that there will be injuries. Mistakes… and sabotage, are an unfortunate reality of the tournament.”

As she spoke, she could feel the sear on her breastbone burn - an ugly scar that reminded her every day that she was once in this youth’s position, unsure of her future… and the fact that she almost did not have one. If nothing else, it kept her head clear in the midst of battle and was a silent reminder that she must be humble, no matter what.

The child looked crestfallen, but not afraid. That was good. After all, the series of trials that made up the Grand Tournament were not only a test of strength and will, but a test of one’s character as well.

“But that is precisely why I have told you, since you began your training here in earnest, that you must always keep your eyes open and your mind sharp. Trust in your own instincts, and in your heart, and you will prevail where many before you have failed. As you know, you fight for the right to call yourself the Queensgard; for the privilege of standing at Her side and defending our nation from all manner of threats.”

She took a step forward, stomping her hoof in the years-worn wood beneath her to punctuate her speech ever further.

“We do not make our choices lightly. Cheating and other means of sabotage will only secure your place in Hell.”

Kästiel found herself at the edge of the platform, a smile creeping to her face. She always did enjoy adding a flair for the dramatic when it came to this event every year, as it not only put on a good show, it also helped to weed out any who might have second thoughts. 

“Now!” She proclaimed, drawing her sword to point to the middle of the crowd in a great flourish, her smile turned towards the one child who had dared to speak up and proclaim themselves, without the intent, the bravest of the entire gathering. “Tonight, there is a feast in your honor. Dine as royalty, and enjoy this last night of slumber. For when the sun rises tomorrow, the Tournament begins!”

As her sword raised, so too did a crash of applause and cheers from the crowd, drowning out the rainfall just outside. Kästiel watched as the youths peeled off into groups of twos or threes, sometimes more, and rushed out of the barracks to the dining hall. She sheathed her sword in a smooth, practiced movement, nodded her head, and stepped from the stage to retreat to somewhere quieter where she could once more enjoy the rain.

“I never tire of you giving that speech,” A shadowed figure murmured to her right, causing her not to jump in fright, but smile softly in their direction. “It seems you add something new every year, including scaring the living shit out of at least one kid.”

“It’s not as though I do it on purpose, Rythiel,” She addressed the figure as they stepped from the shadows, pulling down their hood to reveal a tired but kindly visage. “If I don’t zhuzh it up every year, they’ll seek to replace me before my fifth year. I won’t allow it.” She grinned at the person, stretching out her wings as she walked past and towards her room.

“Besides, if it’s not flashy enough, people will begin to miss you, and then the interrogations will begin. The Queen gave you until the end of Spring to accomplish your task; I am looking forward to hearing report of your success.”

As her back turned, she felt her friend slide back into the shadows, a guardian of sorts that had always been there for her ever since she first stepped foot into the city proper. If it hadn’t been for Rythiel, she’d not be where she was; and it was with this comforting thought that she retired for the evening, curled up against her window lulled to slumber by the Spring’s singing rains.