A Small Introduction for the Very First Chapter
I've only joined Steemit recently, but after writing a couple of entries for 
This story will serve as both an expansion upon an unintentional idea formed from the contests, and as a mid-way story for works I have already written but intend to publish. As a way for me to become more intertwined with my world and verify that there are indeed no plot holes, and all is as it should be.
Please note that these chapters will not be written absolutely perfectly. I use the British dictionary, there may be grammatical errors, an adverb here or there, and possibly an excessive use of obscure words because my vocabulary has a bad habit of running wild at times. These chapters are more written for fun than perfection, so, if you can excuse all of the above... I hope that you enjoy my story! :D
Image used for the story heading is my own painting of the rainbow skies
@kaelci“Welcome to Astana.”
Vaithe's miserable gaze swept over the remains of the ancient city. The white ruins were as shattered as her dreams as she at last observed the truth with her own eyes, and she exhaled her long-held breath as she allowed her memories to be replaced by the knowledge that was.
She was an anomaly. It was not often one was born with the ability to recall their previous life, let alone a life from several cycles past; yet, here she was, and her recollections of the once glorious city were now as the dust she stood upon.
“Do you wish to explore?”
Vaithe sighed again as she turned to face her companion, Darien, a man who had proven more intelligent and of higher education than the others she had met in this life. He had entertained her notions! Her assertions that there was a city beyond compare, a jewel upon the land that gleamed beneath the rainbow skies, and that there was royalty amongst them if only they could discover what became of the lost bloodline.
With the crumbled ruins at her back, her ideals were forfeit and she felt her tears swell as she replied, “What's the point? There are no Kings here, no Queens, not even the decaying bones of a simple soldier! We are stuck with the damned mages.”
Darien raised a cheerful eyebrow. “The damned mages? I beg your pardon, miss.”
“Present company excluded. You're not damned, merely abominable.”
Darien laughed and she felt her despair vanish alongside the autumn breeze as the cordial sound intruded upon and removed her angst. Unlike many of the people who fought to survive on this treacherous land, the jovial mage held a welcome sense of humour and she was grateful that he had accompanied her on this journey. Not that she truly needed a mage, but a merry magician who believed her stories was preferable to a derisive buffoon who would openly ridicule them. She would not have him know that, however; though tolerable, he remained irksome. He obviously had known more than he had chosen to divulge, and she would have answers. “Well, here we are. The city of my dreams does not stand and your manner implies your knowledge. Why humour me?”
“I love it when you get indignant! You get this little gleam to your eye.”
She watched with irritation as Darien stepped past her and into the forgotten city, though paused her rebuttal as she caught the brief glance he cast towards the decrepit castle, a tender look that appeared almost wistful. The dull, white stones did not shine beneath the setting sun, and they no longer reflected the faint iridescence that rained down from the skies. It was a depressing sight that reinforced the reality of her faulted dreams and she forced her gaze to remain fixed upon the enigmatic mage.
“Dearest Viffy. You are not the only one who remembers a time that no longer exists. Though, since you are unaware of events, I will assume your memories are before mine. Our last King was a mage, dear girl, he was borne of Lady Lyria and King Cael... and he is why magic now rules over us. Our Gods will do as they do and you clearly needed to see the ruins for yourself.”
Vaithe crossed her arms over her face as the wound of her lost life burst open and flooded her waking thoughts, the pain washed over her as a raging flood and she did not even care that he had called her 'Viffy' yet again. Gods, she hated that nickname.
Prince Cael. She had not lived long enough to see him become their King, though his ascent was caused by her own hand. He had been King Andru's son, and she remembered the courtship between the Prince and the forbidden mage all too well. She had been a serving girl at the time, King Andru's personal handmaiden, young and carefree until her soul was wrenched from her body. She was as an observer within herself as a dark force took over and murdered the man she lived to serve, as the same dark force compelled her to hide in the Prince's rooms to perform the same despicable act... only to have her body slain by the entity as it failed its quest and took its leave.
“Oh, Viffy! The past has passed.”
Her despair had returned tenfold and she flung her arms into the air as she turned from her broken home, before the sudden realisation slammed into her as mightily as a shieldsman's charge.
An inner fire burned bright as Vaithe whipped about and faced the mage, unsurprised to see his smug face already grinning at her as their eyes met. “You remember!”
Darien only shrugged, an action that infuriated her further, though evidently he did not care as he said, “So, with her noble quest at an end, what would the illustrious Viffy require of her abominable mage this evening?”
“For the deceptive mage to not refer to me as 'Viffy'!”
“Camp, it is! Shall we rest in the ruins and lament the past... oh! Or perhaps the beach! This deceptive mage does love the sea-side, even if one tends to gather sand in their drawers.”
Though she tried to restrain it, a slow smile replaced her scowl as she imagined the mage's discomfort, and after a short chuckle she simply shook her head at the ambiguous man. They had journeyed together for over a season, and though it irritated her to no end she had become accustomed to his constant deflections. Another season would pass before they returned to Vaelon, and she would insist that he be more forthcoming as they retraced their long path to the desert city. “We have known each other long enough for you to know that I will not relent. The cursed beach is as memory-ridden as the ruins, but perhaps your beloved sea-side will make you more agreeable.”
She had spoken in a half-jest but her blood suddenly ran cold as Darien's eyes darkened and a black aura emanated from him. Vaithe did not understand the change, this abrupt anger was wholly unlike the man she had come to know as they travelled, and she shrank back in unfamiliar panic as his grimace transformed into a grotesque caricature of the mirthful smile that was.
“If you insist, Natalia.”
He knew her name. Not the moniker she had been given this cycle, that was indeed 'Vaithe', but... 'Natalia'. She had not known that name for centuries, not since the entity had taken her over and murdered the man who had placed his trust in her.
She could not wrench her gaze from his and she found herself incapable of words as his brown eyes glimmered with the golden glow known of the mages, and without further struggle she found herself following him as he moved into the ruins and towards the old courtyard, her body no longer her own as his subtle magic held her as captive within herself, as her mind screamed ever over that it was happening again.
