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Solo

She was maybe 5. It was summer, cicadas filling the air with a light buzz as she walked by her mother's side, her tiny hand held so she would not stray. "Mother, where are we going?" Her mother smiled and only gave a vague reply of 'Someplace you will like'. A way to keep her daughter from asking again. When they arrived at the courtyard, children were playing, kicking a ball around while mothers chatted amongst themselves. Little girls sat in a circle, playing with dolls and flowers. The ages of the children varies, the oldest looking to be just under 15. The older the child, the less they played, the more they had open scrolls and were busy with their work.

Tiny fist balled into the skirts of her mother's dress as Lan looked to the other children. The girls were being rather quiet, and less playing with each other than playing with themselves. On occasion they passed a few words back and forth, maybe glared at each other, over what Lan didn't know, but she felt a distaste for them. There was no excitement there. Nothing but self absorbed brats. Like herself, not that she knew such a thing at the age of 5. All she knew was that they looked boring. She wanted to have conversation, to find someone interesting. Boy were practicing their writing, all quite terrible in her opinion when compared to her. Her first interest was in an older boy. The reason? Unlike the other children, there were no horns on his head, yet his clothes spoke of his station.

Nobles had horns, this was just how things were. Lan was too young to understand that sometimes, a child came without, that on occasion, a horseman would be seen as 'lacking'. So with great curiosity, the little girl made her way to the 12 year old, gold eyes wide as she sat herself across from him. He looked up, seemingly a bit shocked at her presence before quietly asking her to stop blocking the sunlight as he would like to finish his writing.

He was rude to order her, not even uttering a 'please'. Yet she scoot a mocking few inches, only to have him glare at her. "Can I help you?" She smiled as she'd been told to do and nodded her head. "Yes. I am Lan." He stared at her, growing slightly frustrated. Her mother watched on, speaking to another woman in hushed tones that passed the child's mind. "I wish to know why you lack horns." The boy stopped his brush stroke mid character, looking at her, anger clear on his face. "I just don't have them." His voice was curt and she pouted. "How come?" He wasn't even able to resume his writing. "I was born without them. Not everyone in the clan has horns."
"Only those born of common blood." Raw anger on his face. "Are you saying I am of common blood?"
"No, only wondering why you don't have horns like the others here. It makes you different. " Their rather one sided conversation was interrupted by the mocking tone of a boy from behind them.
"He's a freak, that's what!" The hornless one bit his lip as children began to laugh and snicker. Lan looked around them and smiling said.

"But unlike you, he can at least write. Not to mention his clothes do not have grass stains on the ends of his sleeves. Better to be a freak than to be a fool no?" The boy clammed up, giving her an evil look as the other children seemed to change the focus of their laughter. Her smile shifted back to the hornless boy as she whispered. "I'm sorry. I didn't know we could come.. without." There was a hint of shame in her voice as she moved away from him, leaving the boy to his work.
"Lan." His voice came out, no longer angry. "Forgive my earlier rudeness, I am Mengyao." He was red in the face, giving a small bow if awkwardly. Her face lit up and she returned the greeting, bending slightly. "A pleasure Mengyao. I hope your writing goes well."
"May fortune smile upon you."
"And you."

She went to a nearby koi pond, standing next to it while admiring the fish that scattered at her shadow. She didn't hear the feet behind her, and when he coughed she spun, gold hair hitting him in the face. Immedietly she apologized, only to hear a light laughter bubble up from the boy. He had green eyes and jet black hair. Common, and his horns were the same jet color, curling back like those of a dragon unbranching.
"I heard what you said." Lan beamed at him. "And I think you're an idiot." That cleared the smile right off of her face. Glaring at him, she turned back to the koi pond she ignored him, waving him off with ehr hand. A snicker, he introduced himself as Zhong, and said he'd see her later.

From her eyes she hoped to see him never.

Solo

Why did she say she would do this? Why did ever say she’d try this? The smell of incense was choking, and unlike the smell she knew, this was not one of a familiar scent from her childhood. It was the scent of death, of trance. That alone had her uneasy. The smell of the place was consuming and there was no fresh air. How the priestesses did it and not lose their senses baffled her. Then again maybe they did, maybe it was the price they paid for their visions. Lan didn’t know, she didn’t want to know. Trance terrified her, the idea she would see what could have been, what would be- it scared her. She had buried a great many of her demons. She’d gotten over what happened to her once. And Zhong- Her lair- She was scared. They were lost to her. It terrified her to see what could have been. What should have been.

She wasn’t just scared of seeing him. She was scared of seeing her friends. Of seeing her mother and father. Of seeing her soldiers, of those whos lives she led so carelessly, of who she’d, in such a brief moment, had sent to their doom. How close had she come to it herself? The soldiers going first, only to be engulfed, the portal breaking down from the other side, stopping her and some of the others. She’d killed them. Good intentions did not excuse her. They were dead, out of honor and duty, they had done nothing wrong. Only her, for not waiting, for acting rashly. Had she not- what then? Maybe nothing, maybe everything. Lan hated the maybes. She hated the fact she didn’t know. More than that, she hated how she was scared to know. She was a coward, a coward of her own creation.

Yet still she’d come. She told Soren she’d try it, and he’d called her a coward. It pricked her, to hear him say that. To hear anyone say that. She didn’t want to be a coward, she wanted to be strong, she wanted to lead, to rule. Even if it was something as simple as her own house, she wanted to have control. But she’d lost it. Lost control over everything it felt like. Her life was in tatters. Like a flag held high in battle it was only so long before the flames and blood below would ruin the cloth and change was was once pristine to something sullied. Lan had been high, untouched, but the second the first mark appeared, she was doomed. Mark after mark, little stains that couldn’t be washed out, things she couldn’t forget, dismiss or ignore. Until finally, she fell. She fell and was now only holding herself up buy tattered remains.

She’d once been the daughter of two powerful horsemen. One the son of an emperor, the other a daughter of a noble so distant, yet wealthy. She’d been born under a summer sky, sun shining down they told her, and the day she’d been born their lair had harvested over a hundred humans, her family’s wealth with trade had never seen such prosperity. She was their golden child, the one who would bring them greatness and honor. She was a drop of sunlight. Her mother telling her how she’d been born with black hair and brown eyes like her father, but the second the sun touched her face, she lit up, hair turning to spun gold, eyes glittering as the sun’s own light was trapped in her. She was their golden child.
She was their only child.

It pained her to think about it as they readied trance for her. It was a quick process, and they emphasized how she ought to relax. Nothing would hurt her. She had nothing to worry about. That is what her parents had told her about when she’d started with her bow. Looking back, she’d have preferred a spear. But then-
‘You don’t belong on the front lines where you can be torn up. You are suited to the bow, to taking your enemy down at a distance, untouchable.’
His words cut to her even so long past. How he’d given her reason, flattery to help her choose. Later he’d told her it was because he never wanted to see her wounded, that if she took the spear that he’d not be able to protect her as well. He was the soldier, what good was a soldier if he could not protect his lady?

What good was a horseman who couldn’t protect the one he loved?

She felt tears at the edge of her vision. He was dead and gone, yet even now, small memories made her want to cry. Now- what could have been. What should have been. She would try.
For Zhong.

Extra


Lan looked at herself in the mirror. Red and white- the colors of her clan. However, the outfit was nothing like what one of her clan, much less one of her station would wear. It came up far too high to be decent for any sort of event. It was utterly something festive, if not downright for fun. Did she know anything about Christmas? Did she care? Hardly. In the end the purchase had been on a whim. It was cute, and it looked cute on her. She wanted to feel cute, to simply indulge herself. And so she’d made the purchase with Lifen. She had worn in back from their little shopping trip, not minding the snow for once. She almost felt she matched it.

She felt like she was trying at any rate, to be a little more welcoming of Halloween and it’s odd festivities. Including their odd fascination with ‘Christmas’. A human holiday of JOY, rather disgusting in itself but, halloweeners liked parts of it. Lan just liked the cute outfit. Striped stockings, little black boots that were surprisingly warm. Immaculate fur trim, white as the snow in the ground. She had wanted the best, and has certainly gotten what she paid for. The lacy white ruffles filled the skirt out into something she’d seen a few ghouls wearing. Naturally, she wore it better.

There was admittedly, a few issues with the outfit. One being that it pushed her chest out a little… too much. She was well endowed for one of her clan, she knew as much. Zhong had made THAT fact of his infatuation very clear to her early on. At the very least he’d grown out of it by the time they were engaged. Well. Mostly grown out of it at any rate. Males would be males as her mother told her. But the outfit was pushing them in a way that was rather suggestive. Bordering too suggestive. It would just be up to Lan to not play into such things. It was still, an overall cute outfit. The second problems was… the skirt. She’d admit it at least. The skirt was short, and the ruffles made it go out. While it did accent her hips, it also made it impossible for her to bend down if her needed to. If she dropped anything… well she’d made that mistake once on the walk back. The blush that had risen to her cheeks at the passing stallion’s whistle was more than enough to have her vowing to never make that mistake again.

Still, cute. She looked cute. Festive, bright- the colors of her clan. Not traditional in any sense of the word, but enjoyable. Fingers went over the white trim, picking away a loose stand of hair. The gold of her hair even matched the outfit with it’s little gold buttons here and there. The gloves she’d bought, red with white trim were soft, and not to mention, they were rather warm as well. What was so bad about such aspects of the outfit? Answer: Nothing. It was warm, despite the lack of covering on her legs. She felt cozy and cute. Of course, she could modify the outfit a bit. The pom ties to go on the gloves removed, they actually looked a bit better in her hair. Ornamental really.

Looking back into her mirror it wasn’t quite perfect just yet. No- she needed something more. A look around her things and she saw it. The tiny hair clip with bells. Set just with the hair ties- yes. A few steps, and she was jingling. For som reason, the sound pleased her more than it should. A light giggle to herself, Lan peeked out of her portion of the communal living space- befor darting back behind closed doors, prancing about in front of her mirror for a bit, admiring herself. And jingling. She liked the jingling. She almost felt like a filly, prancing about her room in some outfit as she was but lan couldn’t be bothered to quite care. She felt positively… happy. Even with the thoughts of Zhong from but moments past, she didn’t quite feel sad. She was just… content. Pleased even.

Maybe a bit excited too? She couldn’t quite place why. But she liked it. This feeling. Shrugging her shoulders to feel the warm fuzz of the fur, he made a small happy sound. Almost a whiny. ALMOST. He makini was giving her odd looks, not used to seeing her lady like this. Not just in dress but in attitude. It was utterly unlike her. She was happy. Spirited. Practically.. JOYful.

To anyone who knew Lan, they would know she was not herself, not completely. Oh she certainly was vain, and later when she would go walking enjoying the snow prancing, it would be very obvious.

Someone had gotten a little too exposed to the JOY and was having a bad reaction.

---------Is this real life or fantasyyyyyyyy?
http://scienceismy.rampantobsession.com/Entropy/ART/TIH/santalanfen.png inspiration

Solo


The water was scalding hot. She preferred it like that. It was just what she liked. Even in the heat of summer, she had always liked her baths scalding hot. Her maids and servants had all shown distaste for her enjoyment of the too hot water being brought in for her, but for her, it was that or she might as well have bathed in the koi pond just outside of her room, (something she had tried once. The idea had been to bathe with the koi, so beautiful in their own right. But two things had gone horribly wrong. For one thing, koi attempted to eat her fingers and toes, secondly, koi did not take well to having soap put into their pond. The next day, she’d been forced to watch her once beloved pets, now very much dead, be removed. Her mother and father had forbidden her from any new koi for a year, her pond remaining devoid of the colorful fish).

Back on the island she liked her baths hot. I meant she could soak longer in the tub, that she could relax a while longer. She’d not be bothered so long as she was bathing. After all, what was the point? If you had soap in your hair- if you had yet to wash properly, well you’d still have to remain in the water. Yet another thing she had always preferred, to bathe alone. She didn’t like how servants would wait on her hand on foot. Not for bathing. She would send them away those times. She wanted to be alone, to just have herself and her own thoughts. Back then, the sound of the water around her, the feeling of warmth, of being clean, it was her peace. She did not meditate, but it was the closest she came to it. It was her time of inner peace, when she could melt away and forget the world around her.

As she tested the water now, it was just the way she liked it. Slipping into the water, the burn on her skin made her feel awake, yet it was soothing. Familiar and comforting. Leaning back into the metal tub, she let her hair down around her, gold tresses floating like grass in a stream around her. She liked her hair when it looked like this. When it glittered so pretty under the water. She could pretend it was real spun gold, just as her mother had called it when she would brush it free from knots before putting it into some ornate headdress or new style. Her hair was gold. Blonde. She was their golden child, their fortune, she was their everything. She was their fortune because she was their only child. If she failed them or died they would have no one to pass on the bloodline, no one to carry on their legacy. She was the only child they had, the only one they could manage. Would ever be able to manage. She had wanted siblings, she had wanted them so badly.

She wanted a little brother or sister. A sister would be a friend, a confidant perhaps. Or she might be terrible but she still would have been her sister. Someone else to be tended to by the servants, to bring joy to her parents. And a son. A son was an heir. And heir to carry on a name, to keep the house in the family. A son was a father’s pride. Not a stunted little sundrop. Not little Lan, who was tiny, no matter her age, who had the horns, but the wrong colored eyes. The wrong colored hair. Hair the color of gold.

Gold, the little treasure. Little Lan, never nothing but little. Sinking into the tub she wondered if maybe she was doomed to remain as she was forever. To be so small, to be nearly runt like. In the water she didn’t feel so small. She took up most of the metal tub. Her hair wrapped around her, and as she bathed, she was able to make her hair a task, ignore the color. Ignore all the things she thought of it. How it was something that made her different.

Scrubbing her skin she wondered if maybe had she’d been born with black hair, with brown or even green or blue eyes, would things have been different? Would they have not treated her so delicately? Would they have pampered her less? Sheltered her less? Been firmer with her? Pushed her harder? Lan didn’t know. It seemed so stupid really, so vain but-
‘I love your hair Lan. Do not cut it for him. Keep it. If he cannot see how beautiful it makes you, then more is he the fool.’ His words had sounded so true.

Yet words were just words. Clean, she got out of the tub. Hair wet and clinging to her skin. Gold hair, gold eyes, and yet she still felt tarnished.

Solo


His smile had always made her feel less worried. Back then, on her first meeting, she wanted to impress her uncle and cousin. She wanted to be like her mother. Very proper and poised and ready for anything and everything. Her mother was the Peony, her father the mighty tree that sheltered them, would keep the safe no matter what storm was to come their way. It was their life. To be proper ladies, Lan’s mother to raise her, her father to keep them safe and provide for them. A job that as far as Lan could tell, he was good at. She never went hungry, she wanted for nothing. She lived without worry that her world might one day not be their. Such thoughts were impossible thoughts, nonexistent. She would grow up, be wed, and live as she always had.

Granted, she would meet the man she was to marry, and discover that no, she did not like her fiancé, and he did not like her in the slightest. He would hate her, and in time, she would come to hate him as well. Despise him even. That one day, would come to pass. But this day was not that day. This day was the day her father sat down with the emperor and began to play a game. Silent, she sat next to her father, watching intently as the two horsemen set their pieces here and there across the board. There was meaning in each of their moves. Perhaps not a meaning she could grasp, but each decision was precise. It was done with intent and thought.

Yet it was by no means a fast game. Her father and the emperor betrayed little in their expressions, her father only pausing here and there to look down at her and smile. She couldn’t help it, when he smiled, so did she, not thinking to her lessons, only that her father seemed happy to be there with her, and for Lan that made her happy. Looking back at the memory she realized how often he had smiled at her. When he had smiled at her. His smile marked the passing of each hour. His smile was his way of keeping her awake, keeping her attention and making sure she did not fall asleep. But it was a a lost cause. She was too young to stay up forever. She did not hold herself to such a conviction. Her cousin however did. He would look tired, yet he never fell asleep at the game. He would remain awake for it’s entirety. Lan would last a while yet sooner or later, she would begin to nod off, her father’s smiles met with only dim recognition.

The first time, she remembered hearing something in the distance, the sound of a woman and her attendants. Asking about the emperor, about the heir. She said something but it sounded a world away. She hadn’t any idea who the woman was, but when she looked back at her cousin, he seemed happier somehow, more awake and alert. She wasn’t sure why but now that Lan could look back, it was likely his mother. She had come for her own reason, and Invictus had taken strength from such a small thing as the sound of her voice, just as Lan had taken strength to remain awake from her father’s smile. But time was not easy on little Lan. The bright sun was going down, and lights were going up outside. Inside, doors were being shut, lamps lit, and meals prepared. Lan wanted to eat, to ask for food, but it never came. She was not asked.

She’d been promised her candies at the end. The game had begun that morning, and it was not soon to end. Yet the lack of food only slightly bothered her. She was too tired to want. Eyes closed and the next thing she knew, there was a gentle pressure on her head, stroking her hair. Slowly she realized she had fallen asleep. That it was her father’s hand on her head. She could somewhat make out Invictus across the way, still upright, still alert and awake. Eye closed and when she opened them again, there was the clatter as pieces were moved around.
“Lan, where is the piece I gave you?” Looking to where she set it, sleepy eyes widened when she saw it was not present. But before she could even fret over her lose of the piece, he held his hand in front of her. “Be mindful Lan, each piece you hold is very precious.” She didn’t quiet grasp it, but she’d been admonished, and felt embarrassed as she looked over, the emperor and his son still present. Stilling upright she tried to rub the sleep from her eyes. But- she forgot the rest. The next thing Lan knew was that she was being carried out of the palace by her father, clinging to his robes.
“I’m sorry.” She remembered telling him. Tiny shame in her little body. He said nothing.
“I fell asleep and lost the piece.”
He waited until they were home before he answered her. ‘You did well today Lan. Perhaps we will go again.’

Another day they would. And on another day, she would stop falling asleep. Another day, she would be able to remain silent and watch her father and her uncle play, her cousin sitting across from her, understanding that there was something she simply would not grasp in those precious moments.
One day she would not attend the games, and she would miss them. Just as one day, she would miss her father’s smile.
Such days came often.

Solo


What were they doing? More importantly, why were they doing it? Going down a hill on random things… just to crash. Crash poorly. Into the snow. Laughter filled the air as Lan watched the halloweeners in the distance do something that she had not as single clue nor idea what it was called aside from stupid and foolish. Go down a hill at high speeds, aim to crash into snow or each other, (she would admit, crashing into each other had merit. Watching them fumble and fall was amusing. How could it not be?), only to climb back with their little boards and things to repeat the process all over again. Lan didn’t quite gasp the concept of it all. It was… what. Fun? How could falling into SNOW be considered fun? Oh right. It wouldn’t be. It was be terrible and no doubt the halloweeners were suffering ill effects of the accused material. It was their own fault really, not going out with proper protection. Lan?

Well silk shoes had been traded in. Boots with golden buckles, leather, few would see them under her robes, (though her poor robes she would need to have cleaned in depth. She did not trust the snow. So long as it did not touch her skin she would be safe. That was what she was telling herself at any rate. She had no idea if it was true). She was planning to avoid the snow as much as possible, boots and all. Snow was a cold, vile thing, and until it melted or was taken away, she was having none of it. Though she would admit, watching the halloweeners crash was proving to be of high entertainment value. She thought she spied a horsemen or two joining them but to Lan, why? Why bother, why care? A crash was a crash. You crashed just to go up… and crash again, and accomplish what aside from give passing horsemen and women like her something to laugh at later? Was there some kind of most crashes made prize? Were minipets involved? Were they rare minipets? She could understand if they were rare minipets. After all, rare minipets were rare, and getting them required a fair amount of effort. Like… continuous crashing. Into things. And each other. And snow.

Watching them from afar Lan looked towards the people around her. Some seemed to wanting to join in on the ‘fun’. But really what kind of thing was that? Fun. Ha, going down a hill at high speeds just to crash into something cold and wet did not seem like fun. Even if she was a child it would not. Clothing would be ruined with such use. Clothing supposedly made for it? Ha, it too was getting soaked. Snow was an evil thing. It was frozen water, and it would soak and then seep past the strange fiber barriers the halloweeners had and leave them wet. Fire born creatures- they might die out in such a manner, all this frozen water around them.
How interesting. She wondered in the fire based population did die at this sudden change of events. If they had, well, proved how well a job Halloween kept an eye on it’s people. If not- she might have been a bit disappointed. Looking back to the halloweeners crashing- Some rock golem hit a small cat like thing, sending it into the air… and then into the cold wet snow. Yet both parties seemed to delight in this fact. How was that… enjoyable? How how how? Just what was appealing? Nothing. Just-

A shake of her head she walked on, trying not to think to hard about it. All she had done watching was restate the same thing over and over. Shuffling in her boots towards the reserve she thought about her ride in the sleigh. It had been most enjoyable but then that had no crashing. There was no need to go down hills. No need to ‘take out’ other individuals in her path. It was a mode of transportation. It kept her dry and was father than walking on her own. Not to mention it was rather cute to see the boil or ghoul pull her around and get so excited for their payments. She paid them well and they provided a useful service. That was it, nothing more. She was an employer. Them a temporary employee. There was to be no crashing, no going so fast down hills that they lost control. No, Lan wanted control.

Perhaps that was why she saw no appeal to the halloweeners and their activities. It lacked control It lacked a way to shape the outcome because each outcome was essentially the same. Crashing into snow. Yes, that was logical. She did not like it because it lacked any sort of alternative.

Logical.
Or maybe she just hated snow that she’d become bias to it.
That too, was a possibility.

Solo

Invited back to the palace. Her mother and father were to have very important plans to discuss. They didn’t tell her who, but Lan assumed it would be very important, because her mother was wearing her coral beads she so loved. Her mother only wore them for really special events. Coral beads and the red carved peony in her hair, the one that father had given her before they had been married. She was fancy, very dressed up. Court was after all, a time when they had to dress to impress, to uphold tradition and the various ways of the clan. So her mother put on her best gowns. Had her ebony hair done up in such an elaborate way that Lan wondered sometimes if it would ever come undone. But at the end of the day it did. Her father would fuss and her mother would yield.

The day was going to be spent at the palace. Where in the palace she didn’t know, nor, did Lan know what was it exactly she would be doing. She assumed she’d be set with some of the other children. Maybe they would color or draw. Maybe they would be given a lesson. She hoped it wasn’t a lesson. Or if it was, it was a lesson in music or flowers. She always loved the lessons on flowers and their meanings. And with the palace gardens, she couldn’t help but imagine the variety of flowers they would have! Maybe they would take her one a tour, show her how pretty they flowers could be during this season, test her on what she knew, teach her what she didn’t. Lan loved flowers. Mostly the ones she was named after. Or as her father often joked, were named after her. He was a funny man sometimes, her father. Still Lan hoped if she had a lesson it would be something she liked. Not something like… tactics. Or farming practices. She didn’t like those lessons. They bored her. They didn’t make sense to her either. Why go around a river if you could just go through it? If the other side used it as a water source why not just poison it? She failed to grasp tactics. She really did.

Still it would not be lessons that Lan would partake in. It would be no games with other children. At least no children her own age. ‘Children’ was a bit subjective for horsemen. They grew differently than halloweeners. Yet once grown- they were killers. Perfection. Honed weapons all, each one for the betterment of the clan. Horsemen also did not breed well. Low fertility as human simply had begun to not believe. But when Lan was a child fear still thrived. There was still a respect for the old way. For the fear of the end, the fear that the world really was such a fragile place, at the whim of gods. Or as time would press on, at the whim of one god. The sun and stars would ever hold sway, but the minds of men were changing things. And so there were always whispers. That humans would stop fearing. Rumors that they already had begun to do so. Rumors that people like her father would go about attempting to quell. One day he’d silence them he said. After all, humans feared. They would always fear the end and so long as they feared the end? The horsemen would survive. Odd, that looking back Lan would realize how simply right her father was.

So long as humans feared, horsemen would never die. They might suffer losses, they might struggle, they might spend generations needing to reform rank and numbers. But they would never die. No so long as one human feared. So long as one human feared them, the spark of their kind would never go out.

As she was taken from her mother, little Lan was led down winding halls, gold eyes passing to the carved figures in the pillars. To the painted doorframes. To every artistic detail, noting with a tiny frown when she found some flaw. A paint chip fallen. A crack in the wood. A tear in the paper. Small things, perhaps it just took someone so small as Lan to notice them. She remembered passing by the gardens, or at least a portion of them. Gasping and asking if she might be granted a chance to visit them. A smile, she was just ushered onwards, told that they must not keep him waiting. Lad wasn’t sure who was waiting or why they waited for her. Had she’d been brought for a tutor? If so- it would be for tactics. It would always be for tactics. Yet as Lan was introduced to her destination there was to teacher to be found. Just one preteen horsemen, lips in a thin line, face impassive as ever.

Just her cousin and a set of brushes with ink.