30/30 – 20 | Waidelm Part 1

I did say I’d return back to these characters eventually. Eventually is now.

For those new to the world of Ydarkra you can read the following entries, though not posted to the site in chronological order I’ve listed them as so here:

Watering Hole: Miranjii
Watering Hole: Mevralaud
Waidelm – Part 1 (This Story)
Waidelm – Part 2
Untitled (excerpt – Assassin)

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          “Excellent, DarkraSeco! Excellent!”

          Seddiov applauded Mevralaud’s marksmanship as the stag dropped to the ground. Mevralaud nodded in acknowledgement of the compliment, but he was not completely happy.

          “It would have been a perfect shot had he not missed his objective which was the left eye, no?” Waidelm stood in his stirrups, to see the shot better.

          The outing to the Karmadris Range was pleasant enough. A visit that was normally par the course for being the sons of the Darkran, it was nearly an eight day ride to get there and they stayed in the Range for a fortnight, as was the norm. It was a pleasant surprise to both the denizens and the royal party as they had arrived during a celebration, unique for Karmadris.

          The return trek home turned sour as the rains came early this season.  Some of the storms were fierce, forcing the group to seek shelter in caves if one of the smaller towns or villages along the way were not reachable. It had truly galled them the previous morning to have taken refuge in a cave only to learn they were less than an hours’ ride away from a village. The lights of the small village simply were not seen through the dense sheets of rain pouring down on them. That they were now only two days away from home barely mattered.  The eight-day return ride home was now in its fifteenth day and all were in some form of surly.  Mevralaud had the idea to have a small hunt to provide meat for the night’s meal. Waidelm, grumpier than usual because of the delay, reluctantly agreed realizing their men needed to let off some tension.

          All was fine until it turned into a contest between the heirs apparent. Mevralaud knew he was the better marksman.  He really did know it, but Waidelm had a way of snatching defeat out of the jaws of Mevralaud’s victories that was grating the younger brother’s nerves.

          Mevralaud’s arrow had struck the soft area just under the jaw where it meets the neck, an excellent shot. Nonetheless, Waidelm was right.  Mevralaud was aiming for the stag’s left eye, when the beast suddenly raised its majestic head just as Mevralaud released the arrow. Mevralaud swore under his breath at Waidelm’s correct assessment. He could only be but so angry, for truth was truth. He merely wished his elder brother did not state so with such obvious glee.

          Mevralaud returned from inspecting his kill. Ombeyants were already descending upon the animal to prepare it. He would receive the tanned pelt as a souvenir once they were home.

          “It was a clean kill, the beast suffered little if at all and between us there is now more than enough meat to last until home. What is it that galls you so brother?”

          “You try so hard and yet fail the more.” Waidelm started, “You have such…

          “…potential.” Mevralaud finished the sentence, gritting his eyes. “Oh, praise for the ever glorious potential! You sound like Father…”
“Father is equally befuddled as to why you choose to play this injured role in which you seem to relish, boy.”  Waidelm shook his head at his younger sibling.

          “Boy? This injured role?” Mevralaud’s breath hissed between his teeth as he mentally bit down a pithy remark far too close to the edge of his tongue.

          “Now that is the most Darkran worthy thing I’ve seen you do in days.” Waidelm nodded at Mevralaud’s barely controlled restraint. “Of this I do approve.”

          “Your approval or approval’s lack, brother mine, is hardly that which keeps me awake at night.” Mevralaud responded carefully feeling a sliver more of his temper slipping.

          “No, brother mine that would be your many feminine indiscretions.” Waidelm snorted derisively.

          “Would that be envy I hear? Still have your ear to my door?” Mevralaud smirks, well aware of Waidelm’s choice to abide by the suggested tradition that a DarkraSeci wait until he was Darkran before bedding. As DarkraSeco, Mevralaud had no such edict, nor the compulsion to abide by it had such existed, for him.

          “No, it would be contempt you hear.” Waidelm shot back, “Who needs to listen through a door when the noise shakes the walls themselves.”
“Well yes, that last one in L’Carrettine was loud.” Mevralaud’s grin was unrepentant as he glared at Waidelm, “Louder than — what was her name? Ah, Kaileigh.”

          Lyshiar!
Mevralaud winced as soon as the name left his mouth.

          K’Kaileigh VresJinuway.

          Kaileigh was one of the few who had said no to Mevralaud’s advances and meant it. That was challenge enough to the DarkraSeco who quickly learned the powers of charm. The Darkran’s insistence that he leave the female alone made her forbidden fruit all the more desirable. It was a moon’s long campaign to bed her even if the only people who would ever know would be the two of them.  To Mevralaud she was merely to be a hard-earned scratch on the bedpost. He did not know the ever-secretive Waidelm and their father were privately arranging an engagement with the young woman’s family that same week.

          Furthermore, neither was she aware of such.

          Not willing to tolerate the aural evidence of his younger brother’s activities one night, Waidelm stormed into Mevralaud’s chambers finding his now erstwhile intended’s body arched, her breast exposed, head thrown back in pleasure as Mevralaud’s head was as hidden in the raised layers of her skirts.   That her virginity was still intact mattered little then. Mevralaud had tasted of the fruit slotted for his brother.

          The withering look that crossed Waidelm’s face caused one of the few times Mevralaud ever backed-down to him.

          “Waidelm, I am sorry brother, there was no call for that.  It was wrong of me.”

Mevralaud did not need to see the looks of consternation from Amrieux and the others within earshot; he knew he had crossed the line as Waidelm simply turned and rode away from him without a word. Mevralaud cursed under his breath, running after his brother’s quickly receding back.
Waidelm suddenly took off at a gallop.

          Deyvra!

          Mevralaud, Amrieux, Hentlan, T’Cerriag and Seddiov ran to their respective mounts and pounded after him.

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Waidelm – Part 2

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