Fan Fiction ❯ the Circle Lyre ❯ Prologue ( Prologue )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: okiayu_kaori 
A race of people live in a land of peace, ruled by one princess until another is born. But a prince is born, and Fate's wheel begins to turn in the lives of this generation.
Can they withstand the beginning of the movement, the inertia of Fate's rotation into the future? The prince is the key -- and he alone is a turbulent force all his own...
Anime/Manga: Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Fantasy | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 10.03.2002 | Pages: 1 | Words: 809 | Visits: 453 | Status: Completed
A race of people live in a land of peace, ruled by one princess until another is born. But a prince is born, and Fate's wheel begins to turn in the lives of this generation.
Can they withstand the beginning of the movement, the inertia of Fate's rotation into the future? The prince is the key -- and he alone is a turbulent force all his own...
Anime/Manga: Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Fantasy | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 10.03.2002 | Pages: 1 | Words: 809 | Visits: 453 | Status: Completed
Their village was a secluded hamlet nestled in the valleys of Lyre, concealed beneath a dense canopy of evergreen flora that could only exist together in a place of true peace. Here, below the dark of softly swaying branches and the protective shadow of towering mountain peaks, a race of people flourished, giving to their gods and receiving the gift of life with great respect and humility.
At the center of the hierarchy lay a princess borne of every generation. The girl would grow to rule the village on her own until she had seen her ten-thousandth moon. When this night came, an ancient ceremony was performed and she would celebrate the lives of her people by meeting in a sacred place with each warrior, one at a time until sunrise. That night would be conceived a babe to rule the village as the princess' successor on the day of her own two-thousandth moon. Each warrior was honored as the child's father, and the mother would leave the village on the day of the daughter's coronation to complete the rite in secret. Only the elders knew the end result of the ritual, the 25-year-long Moonebask.
But on one such Moonebask, a prince was conceived instead...
Rejoice, Ancestors of Lyre.
Observe us, be sated, and Fate
Guide you to your realm
In the Spiritlands which lay
Across our own.
Bring us a child this night
To continue our reign of peace,
Of silence, of everlasting sunrise
And sunset.
We offer our mortal souls
To the guidance of Rye'c,
To the strength of Til'yin,
And to the silence of No'me.
Ali'eci had surely thought herself to be dreaming when the Old Wife refused to hand the child to her. Exhausted from labor, strained from the loneliness of the Beginning, the princess had expected far more from this day than to be told she could not see her baby. "But it is the Way, Old Wife!" she demanded weakly. "I have been kept from my people for seven moons! I long to rejoin them as their princess, and to give them my child as... as their own..." Ali'eci fell back onto her elbows on the cot in a near-faint, struggling with every breath. "Why can I not see her? Give the child to me -- her eyes are new and she must see a smile before all else..." The girl coughed and lay back now, her fingernails digging into the fur blanket she was swathed in. Ali'eci looked much different now than the strong, serene princess she had been before the results of the Moonebask had begun to show themselves in her body.
The Old Wife grunted, the small bundle in her thick arms silent. No child borne of the Moonbask ever cried on its Beginning day. Still, the Old Wife looked troubled as she stared down at the baby, her ancient eyes clouded with worry and frustration. Ali'eci thought she was going mad. What was wrong? Was the child stillborn? What could stop the Old Wife from allowing Ali'eci to begin her daughter's life in the sunlight on this joyous day?
"Old Wife, speak to me!!!" Ali'eci shouted in panic, forcing herself to sit upright. "I must know what has happened!!!"
With a heavy heart, the Old Wife turned and looked upon the frenzied princess with a stern expression that betrayed the pain in the woman's soul. "Dai Ali'eci, Fate has chosen to move on this day. The Moonebask created a daughter in your belly, but time transformed her into a son instead. The village will have a prince, not a princess. And on the day of his coronation, Fate will move again as it has been prophecized. Fate will move, and peace will be lost."
Ali'eci closed her eyes and felt herself curling into a ball, her fists pressed tightly to her knees and being shoved into her chest. Tears seemed to rip from her eyes, so quickly did they fall down her cheeks and into the rough fur of the blanket. She choked back a sob and no longer wanted to hold the baby.
"We... we must not hate the child for being a sign of the Fate's movement," the Old Wife continued, clutching the baby close to her broad chest. "If anything, he is to be respected for his place in the Circle. However... your people have feared this moment for generations, and it will be up to you to prepare them for the Change."
Unable to hear the Old Wife's words anymore, Ali'eci had reached out with trembling arms to accept the child. But she did not lift her chin, and she did not cease crying. The ancient woman passed the silent babe to the princess, who held him to her own chest tighter than she meant to.
And a world of troubles, it seemed, came with him.
At the center of the hierarchy lay a princess borne of every generation. The girl would grow to rule the village on her own until she had seen her ten-thousandth moon. When this night came, an ancient ceremony was performed and she would celebrate the lives of her people by meeting in a sacred place with each warrior, one at a time until sunrise. That night would be conceived a babe to rule the village as the princess' successor on the day of her own two-thousandth moon. Each warrior was honored as the child's father, and the mother would leave the village on the day of the daughter's coronation to complete the rite in secret. Only the elders knew the end result of the ritual, the 25-year-long Moonebask.
But on one such Moonebask, a prince was conceived instead...
Rejoice, Ancestors of Lyre.
Observe us, be sated, and Fate
Guide you to your realm
In the Spiritlands which lay
Across our own.
Bring us a child this night
To continue our reign of peace,
Of silence, of everlasting sunrise
And sunset.
We offer our mortal souls
To the guidance of Rye'c,
To the strength of Til'yin,
And to the silence of No'me.
Ali'eci had surely thought herself to be dreaming when the Old Wife refused to hand the child to her. Exhausted from labor, strained from the loneliness of the Beginning, the princess had expected far more from this day than to be told she could not see her baby. "But it is the Way, Old Wife!" she demanded weakly. "I have been kept from my people for seven moons! I long to rejoin them as their princess, and to give them my child as... as their own..." Ali'eci fell back onto her elbows on the cot in a near-faint, struggling with every breath. "Why can I not see her? Give the child to me -- her eyes are new and she must see a smile before all else..." The girl coughed and lay back now, her fingernails digging into the fur blanket she was swathed in. Ali'eci looked much different now than the strong, serene princess she had been before the results of the Moonebask had begun to show themselves in her body.
The Old Wife grunted, the small bundle in her thick arms silent. No child borne of the Moonbask ever cried on its Beginning day. Still, the Old Wife looked troubled as she stared down at the baby, her ancient eyes clouded with worry and frustration. Ali'eci thought she was going mad. What was wrong? Was the child stillborn? What could stop the Old Wife from allowing Ali'eci to begin her daughter's life in the sunlight on this joyous day?
"Old Wife, speak to me!!!" Ali'eci shouted in panic, forcing herself to sit upright. "I must know what has happened!!!"
With a heavy heart, the Old Wife turned and looked upon the frenzied princess with a stern expression that betrayed the pain in the woman's soul. "Dai Ali'eci, Fate has chosen to move on this day. The Moonebask created a daughter in your belly, but time transformed her into a son instead. The village will have a prince, not a princess. And on the day of his coronation, Fate will move again as it has been prophecized. Fate will move, and peace will be lost."
Ali'eci closed her eyes and felt herself curling into a ball, her fists pressed tightly to her knees and being shoved into her chest. Tears seemed to rip from her eyes, so quickly did they fall down her cheeks and into the rough fur of the blanket. She choked back a sob and no longer wanted to hold the baby.
"We... we must not hate the child for being a sign of the Fate's movement," the Old Wife continued, clutching the baby close to her broad chest. "If anything, he is to be respected for his place in the Circle. However... your people have feared this moment for generations, and it will be up to you to prepare them for the Change."
Unable to hear the Old Wife's words anymore, Ali'eci had reached out with trembling arms to accept the child. But she did not lift her chin, and she did not cease crying. The ancient woman passed the silent babe to the princess, who held him to her own chest tighter than she meant to.
And a world of troubles, it seemed, came with him.