Uh, yo ppls. I’m a lil new here. Well, yea, I guess I am really new here. But anyways, hehe, well, I always liked writing stories and such. So, well, this is a first, me posting one of them somewhere. But, don’t dis me too bad, k? K. Well, k, here you go.

Disclaimer: Is that what you call it? A disclaimer? Anyways, uh, most fiefs and cities and towns are Tamora Pierce’s. Most characters are from my own mind. The plot is mine. Okay, how bout I go easier: whatever you recognize as Tamora Pierce’s in hers, and whatever you don’t recognize is mine. Okay? Is that better to understand? K.

(By the way, it don’t have no title.)

Chapter 1

The Lady Mirragen of Tirragen (hehe, that rhymes) was awoken by the gulls calling to each other from her nearby lake. She groaned and rubbed her eyes, sitting up.

“It’s too early to be up,” she complained softly, tossing her legs over the side of her four-poster bed. She looked around and felt something was wrong. She called upon her Gift and made a ball of black-brown fire in her hands. However dark it was, it gave off plenty of light. Her windows weren’t yet open, and even if they were, her window faced the west, so barely any light would show through. With her Gift-brought-fire, she could see in every corner of her messy room.

She frowned, looking all over. The feeling built, and usually, her feelings weren’t wrong. Yet, there was nothing that she could see that was wrong. Her dirty clothes strewn all over the floor, books open all over the floor, her desk littered with junk and figurines. Nothing was wrong. It was how she had left it just the night before. But…

She jumped to her sword hanging on the wall, grabbed it, and swung it around all in one motion, accidentally crashing into the wall, but she didn’t notice that. She made her ball of fire hang in the air a little aways and watched the floating person that was on the other side of her bed. The person was cross-legged and grinning. In one of his hands he held a rose, a red one with a thorny stem.

Mirragen sighed, lowering her thin sword. The fourteen-year-old leaned against the wall, crossing her hands in front of her abdomen and scowling at the child of one of the horse lords.

“Good morning, Mirragen.” Abraham, rather known as Abe, grinned, stretching out his legs and lowering in the air to stand on the floor. He aged like normal mortals until he was fifty, but now, he looked like a normal, well dressed, clean sixteen-year-old.

“Abe, what are you doing here?” Mirragen asked, rolling her eyes.

He walked closer, grinning, spinning the thorny-stemmed rose in his fingers, the thorns not cutting through his dark skin.

“I said good morning, Mirragen. You, being a lady, should be polite enough to answer back with a good morning, too, you know.” He said in his honey-covered, baritone voice.

In the light radiating from her ball of fire, she could see him perfectly. He was a head taller than her, and that was only slouching, and she was tall for her fourteen years of age. He had dark skin, with jet-black hair, and with brilliant blue eyes. He was wiry, with fine muscles, and with long legs and long arms. He had a pointed chin, a perfect nose, and with high cheekbones. When he grinned, Mirragen had to admit to herself he was hot!

“Yeah, well, I’m not exactly the idol lady now, am I? You’re forgetting, my great-uncle was killed by the Lioness for treason.” She replied dully.

“Ah, yes, Alex of Tirragen. I heard the story many a time. Is that why you must be so, what is the word, sullen, all the time?” he asked, leaning a hand on the wall just above her shoulder, putting his face close to hers, still twirling the rose in his fingertips.

She kept her face expressionless, acting like her heart didn’t beat with him this close to her. She was slender with fine curves, one of the main reasons Abe wanted her. She had long, natural wavy, red-brown locks that reached just beneath her bosoms. She looked on him with willow-brown eyes, always serious and with a faint hint of determination. Her winged brows were always straight, making anyone look at her not want to go near her. She had a bold nose, with a square-set jaw, and a mouth that was always straight. She liked to look serious or expressionless.

“Sullen? You call this sullen?” she asked him, amused, a corner of her mouth deepening.

“What else? I watch you everyday, and for sure it isn’t serious.” He grinned. She watched him.

“Do you know what sucks?” she asked out of the blue.

“Having a godchild being in love with you?” he suggested, smiling like it was funny.

“How’d you guess?” she asked dully, pushing away from him to go open her window.

She stood there, watching the Lake Tirragen as the morning sun began to wash over it. She heard movements coming from the hallway. The day was just getting started.

“Here, this is for you.” Abe had come to stand behind her, and now he braided the rose into her red-brown locks.

She felt it, and wasn’t surprised to find the thorns gone, and the stem smooth. Abe was a godchild; of course he could do that. He placed his long-fingered hands on her shoulders and stood behind her. She still held the sword in her hands.

“Abe, I’m going to Corus today to start page training.” She finally said.

He was quiet. “I know.” He said softly.

“You know you won’t be able to visit me there.” Mirragen felt sad. Abe was about the only person who ever cared about her, at least, for a half-human. Her parents were always busy with her ten younger siblings, and maids and servants forced to serve you wouldn’t care for you.

His grip grew tighter. He was close to her, and he placed his chin on her head. “No, but I have a plan. I’m half human, right?” he asked her, and she heard him smile.

“Yeah? And?” she was curious. What was running through his mind?

“Well, maybe I should keep this a secret, even from you.” he was grinning now.

“Whatever,” she muttered. She was always irritated about him, but lately, she was reluctant to admit, but her feelings about him were growing, and she hated it. She had never felt like this about any boy, and she didn’t ever want to. She was Alex of Tirragen’s great-niece. She was supposed to be the bad girl of society! Bad girls of society don’t fall in love, godchild or no.

“Well, your servant is coming. I will leave you to do your daily things. But I will be back, rose of my garden.” He said mushily, grinning. She turned around on him, wanting to scold him about names like that, but before she could say anything, he disappeared.

“Do you know how irritating you are, Abe?” she asked softly to the air, not expecting an answer to come. None did come. She turned back around to watch her lake.

A knock came on the door, and she heard it creaking open. Mirragen waited patiently as the servant brought warm water to her bath. When the servant left, she put away her sword and went to go take a bath, braiding the rose back into her hair after.

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Oopsies, a lil long, sorry.

Wow! And don't worry about it being long! I love long posts!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I think others do too but... I don't know. Well I hope you write more soon this is very intersting so far!

Tchao!
~Cinnamony Sweet~

Kids in the backseat make accidents.

Accidents in the backseat make kids.

Hey...So original!! It sounds super cool too!!!! Keep writing and the longer the better!!!

Oh, haha, thank you alot. Really. Well, you know me, I try not to say too much all at once. Well, maybe you don't know me...or do you? I know all of you better than you think...I think. lol. No, but okay, here you go. Here's some more.
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Chapter 2

Mirragen rode with one of the servants to Corus, her father having to ride somewhere else.

When she was ten, she hadn’t been accepted into the page training for any reason. At least, the one they had come up with was: “The Lady Mirragen has bad blood.” She was always hateful to the palace for that, but she had always wanted to be a knight. She had tried for four years, and finally, they let her in, but now her little brother wasn’t allowed to come. However hateful she was of the palace, she always wanted to be a knight, and weighing those two, she decided to be a page.

She and the servant were silent as they rode, Mirragen riding in front. She wore her good riding breeches and a white shirt, with her sword hanging from her belt. The servant held the reins to a packhorse, where all her clothes and everything needed for a year in the palace were packed.

They stopped for midday and supper, arriving in Corus at the dead of night. She had been to Corus many times with her father, and she knew her way to the palace. As they walked the streets during the night, she saw big men watching them from deep shadows. Mirragen made sure her purse, with all the nobles she needed for page training, was well hidden, then loosened her sword in its sheath. She even began to call upon her Gift, but decided not to. She could handle them all with her sword, with all her lessons with the captain of the guards of Tirragen.

She decided to sleep at an inn that night, then go to the palace in the morning. She picked one at random, not noticing the name. She brought her horse and the packhorse into one stall, and the servant left her. She walked back to the front of the inn and walked in, not noticing someone walk in after her.

There was a gleeman singing a story on a table, strumming a harp. Everyone laughed at the appropriate times, but Mirragen wasn’t one to laugh. She waited beside the door, wondering what to do. She had never needed to check into an inn before. She watched the gleeman, and noticed that soon everyone was singing along with him.

“Welcome to the Dancing Dove, m’lady!” someone walked up to her. She looked at the tall person, who was half as wide, too, and decided this fatherly-looking man had to be the innkeeper.

He didn’t wait for an answer. “You would like a room, am I right?” he asked. Mirragen nodded, watching him with an expressionless face. “Well, miss, I am sorry, but unless you would like to share one, we are filled for the night.” He sad sadly.

Mirragen thought about it. She was too tired to argue, and probably the person she had to share with wouldn’t come to the room until late at night.

“Fine, I’ll take your offer.” She said with no expression. From the way the innkeeper looked at her, she knew she put him on edge.

“Right, well, that’ll be two copper nobles, since you’re sharing with someone.” The innkeeper said. She nodded and took two round, copper coins and dropped them in his puffy hands. She followed him up some stairs and down a hallway, where there were only torches for lighting, and very few. He opened a door and bowed her in. Mirragen nodded to the innkeeper, and heard him close the door behind her.

She saw someone on the bed, reclining and reading a book. From the back of the head, the person looked like a male.

“I’m sorry, sir, but I guess we are sharing this room.” Mirragen said gruffly. The person just waved and didn’t turn from his book.

She shrugged and from one of her saddlebags she took out her cloak. She had slept on worse before. She heard the person get up from the bed and leave, but she didn’t look up. She didn’t feel like seeing whom she had to share a room with.

“The faster I get to sleep, the sooner morning comes, and the sooner I get out of here.” She muttered to herself, lying down on her cloak, fully clothed, and closed her eyes.

“Mirragen, Mirragen.” A deep, honey-covered baritone voice called faintly in her dream.

“Abe, you don’t have to act all weird.” She called back. She stood in fog, in a thick fog, that was lighted by some unknown, unseen source.

She saw a tall figure walking closer in the fog. Then he stopped. “Mirragen, I can’t come closer.” Abe’s voice was so faint.

She was worried. “Abe? Abe! You’re scaring me, buddy.” She called.

“No. I will see you in the real world.” He was so faint. She couldn’t see his face clearly, but she could tell he wasn’t grinning.

“Abe, I don’t like this joke.” Gradually, she couldn’t see him anymore. “Abe! Abe!” she cried. There was no answer.

Mirragen didn’t wake when a rumble of a honey-covered baritone voice whispered in her ear, “Sleep, pearl of my sea, sleep.”

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Well, this is the same long (haha, I sound like someone from Piikani) but yeah, I decided to post it like this. Okay, bye.

MORE MORE MORE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!MORE MORE MORE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!MORE MORE MORE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!MORE MORE MORE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!MORE MORE MORE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!MORE MORE MORE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!MORE MORE MORE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!PLease?

Yeah what burningpixie said... lol I love it so far!!!!!!!!!


Tchao!
~Cinnamony Sweet~

Kids in the backseat make accidents.

Accidents in the backseat make kids.

Well, if you guys really like my story, rate me! No, just jokes. You really don't have to. No, I'm serious, don't! Jokes. Anyways, hehe, yeah, just had a chocolate drumstick (you know, ice cream with waffle cone that they sell in stores in packages...) anyways, yeah, you guys wanted more, here you dudes' go.
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Chapter 3

Mirragen was awoken by snores. “Hunh, where am I?” she leaned on an elbow and looked around the dark room.

Suddenly, she remembered yesterday. Why was she so slow, she asked herself as she stood. She stretched and packed everything in her saddlebags. Not that she had unpacked much.

The snores continued on as she snuck out of the room, quietly closing the door behind her. It was awfully quiet and still, except for the occasional snores coming from each room.

Downstairs, though, there were some people up and about. A few people sat in the common room, eating breakfast, talking quietly.

“Good morning, m’lady.” The innkeeper walked up to Mirragen. She nodded to him sullenly (maybe she was always sullen) and she let him show her a seat. A few minutes later, he brought out some hot cereal for her. She thanked him gruffly and began to eat slowly. She had plenty of time to get to the palace. She betted that the training master wasn’t even awake yet.

“Mind if I sit with you?” a voice asked from above her. She was reading the note her father had written for the training master and didn’t look up but nodded and waved to a seat across from her.

Finally Mirragen looked up at the newcomer. He looked about her age, with fair skin and blonde hair that reached his shoulders. He was a handsome boy.

“Hi.” He grinned. She grunted a hello back and continued to eat, watching him expressionlessly.

“My name’s Elijah of Prey’s Peak.” He introduced as if her stare didn’t make him feel cheap.

“Mirragen of Tirragen.” She introduced, expecting him to walk away as if she were the devil herself (maybe she was).

“Hey, your name rhymes.” He grinned. She raised a brow, not at all amused. But that didn’t stop him. “Tirragen, hunh? I’ve heard about Alex of Tirragen. Is he your relative? Or, was he?” Elijah asked.

“My great-uncle on my dads side.” She answered gruffly. This guy was too happy for her.

“Really? Did you know him?” the boy asked.

Mirragen shook her head slowly. “Died before I was born.”

Elijah nodded. “Yeah, by the Lioness. I heard about it. I think everyone has heard about it.” he said. Mirragen shrugged. She didn’t care.

“So, what are you doing here in Corus all alone?” Elijah asked.

“Page training.” She answered.

“Really? You’re a fourth-year? I don’t remember you. Unless you came from somewhere else, a different country.” He suggested.

She shook her head. “First-year. The castle didn’t accept me four years ago. Now, it finally did.” She answered.

“Really? Well, the castle is a little weird sometimes. But hey, I’m going to the castle too, today. I’m a fourth-year page. We can ride there together.” he suggested.

However much Mirragen didn’t want to admit it, she did want some company. She shrugged. “Yeah, sure, whatever.” She muttered. He grinned. The innkeeper brought his food and Elijah began to eat.

“Some friends are here, too, with me. We can wait for them as they awaken. It won’t be too long, since I just woke them up before I came down here.” Elijah said, still grinning.

“Hey, Elijah, who’s this?” someone, another boy, grabbed a seat beside Elijah. Mirragen eyed him with no emotion. He looked to be her age, too, and looked like he was from down south, one of the Bazhir.

“Hey Ezekiel. This is Mirragen of Tirragen. Mirragen, this is Ezekiel obn Hednar. Mirragen is going to be a first-year page this year.” Elijah introduced

“Good morning, Mirragen.” He nodded deeply, then began to eat what the innkeeper brought for him. I nodded back in return. Just because Mirragen had company didn’t mean she had to speak.

“Good morning, Ezekiel, Elijah.” Two girls chorused, dropping in seats on each side of Mirragen. One looked like she was ten-years-old and looked like Elijah’s sister, the other looked the same age as Ezekiel, Elijah, and Mirragen, with pale skin, black hair, and freckles. She looked like a fragile girl, but Mirragen didn’t doubt she could kick her ass any day.

“Who’s this?” the younger one asked, staring at Mirragen.

“This is Mirragen of Tirragen. Mirragen, this is my little sister, Elizabeth of Prey’s Peak. And this other one is Ann of Masbolle.” Elijah introduced.

“Hello, Mirragen. Are you a fourth-year page, too?” Elizabeth asked. Mirragen shook her head.

“She wasn’t accepted into the castle for page training when she was ten, so finally they accepted her, and now she’s going to be a first-year.” Elijah answered for Mirragen.

“Really? Well, welcome to Corus, Mirragen.” Ann smiled at Mirragen, holding out her hand. Mirragen shook it with a firm grip, nodding to Ann.

“Gee, girl of few words, hunh, Elijah.” Mirragen heard Ezekiel whisper to Elijah.

“So?” Elijah asked Ezekiel. The Bazhir shrugged and went back to his hot cereal.

“Excuse me while I go saddle up my horses.” Mirragen stood from the table, and the others widened their eyes at her height. She walked out by the kitchens to the stables. She found the stall where she left her horse, Lightning, and the packhorse, Thunder, but she stopped abruptly. In the stall beside theirs was a beautiful mare. She had the most white of coats Mirragen had ever seen, shining in the early morning light. Her mane and tail were the same color, the whole horse blinding Mirragen. The horse eyed her with black eyes, and Mirragen absent-mindedly held out a hand to it. The horse butted her hand with its nose, then let Mirragen pet its cheek. Its coat felt like the finest silk. Mirragen was envious of the owner of the horse, but she didn’t want to show it. Abruptly, she took her hand away as if burned and went to saddle Lighting and pack up Thunder.

She was in the middle of packing Thunder when the others came into the stables form the front. They didn’t notice the other horse, but they all smiled at her as they passed, their horses just a little distance away from Mirragen’s.

She mounted Lightning and eyed the white mare. It was too perfect to be anyone’s, that was all she could say about it. Too perfect.

“Hey Mirragen, let’s go.” Elijah called. She nodded and followed them out of the stables, tying her packhorse reins to her saddle’s horn.

The lower city was already awake, with sellers crying out their sales. Mirragen didn’t notice any of it. All she wanted to do was be out of it; too many people eyed her slender long sword on her hip. She loosened it, so in case she had to use it, it would be easier to pull out.

“That sword got a name?” Elijah asked. Ezekiel led the way to the castle, with Ann and Elizabeth right behind him, and Elijah and me a little behind.

Mirragen looked down at the slim sword dangling from her hip. One instantly came to mind, “Holy Spirit.” She answered.

( Hehe, see, I’m a huge fan of the Bible, so, go God/Jesus/Holy Spirit, go! Ehehe, uhm yeah.)

“Holy Spirit? Cool.” Elijah’s eyebrows were raised as he eyed her sword, but he didn’t say anything else on their way to the castle.

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Sorry, went crazy on the Shift Key, the squiggly line, and the equal sine. Haha. Okay, well, yeah. Cya!

Oh me sa likes the pretty horse!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I want it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! lol this is good write more please!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


Tchao!
~Cinnamony Sweet~

I'm not crazy!
Well mabey boy crazy, but otherwise I am just...
slightly insane+lack of sleep+my sisters!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I know, hey, thanks. But it's a clue to something important, so, keep the horse in mind.
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Chapter 4

The castle impressed Mirragen, but she didn’t show it. They made their way inside the castle walls and across the drawbridge. The guards eyed them, but didn’t make a step closer. Mirragen found herself wondering that if she ever needed to take control of the castle, she could always just go inside and do it. Mirragen quickly banished the thoughts. She was here to become a page, not an ‘Alexander of Tirragen the Second’, even though she did look up to her great-uncle. The sooner she became a knight, the sooner she’d be out of there and on her way to do her own things.

Soon, she found herself inside the castle with her friends, her horses inside the stables and the castle servants promising that her things were delivered up to her room.

A servant bowed the rest of her company away, them promising that they’d see her later, and the servant said in proper mAnnr, “Come, m’lady, I shall show you to the Training Master, Sir Merric of Hollyrose.” The servant began to walk up some stairs. She followed him sullenly. The castle was so huge. How was she supposed to find her way around?

After at least ten sets of stairs and at least twenty hallways, she found herself standing in an office-like room, with the servant bowing his way out. A pale, skinny man with bright red hair sat behind a desk, looking smug. She had heard about the castle having problems with training masters, but this was ridiculous.

“Hello, Lady…?” he left the sentence, and Mirragen knew she was supposed to tell her name.

“Mirragen of Tirragen.” She answered without emotion. Merric’s smile froze, his eyes widened, but he said nothing, only gestured to a chair.

“Tirragen, really?” he asked as Mirragen sat down in a nice comfy chair. She was stiff from spending all of yesterday in the saddle, and sleeping on just a wooden floor, so the chair was a nice comfort, but she didn’t show it.

She nodded, eyeing the man. Was he really a knight? He was more slender than her!
“Hmm, well, do you have a letter from your father or mother or guardian?” Sir Merric asked. Mirragen nodded but took her time getting out the nobles and the letter from her belt purse. She handed them to Sir Merric.

He read it at least twice, nodding and grunting. Mirragen didn’t look around to survey the room but kept her eyes on Merric, because she wasn’t a little girl that needed to explore everything. And plus, she’d wager that Bad Girls of Society didn’t look around in wonder unless it was at a really cool place, then she might take a glance around.

“Fine, Lady Mirragen of Tirragen, I guess you are going to be a new page. And don’t worry about your age. I knew a boy once who was fifteen when he became a first-year page.” Merric smiled, but Mirragen didn’t do anything except keep her eyes on him, watching him like an eagle watched her prey.

Sir Merric rang a small bell that was on his desk, and a castle servant walked in and bowed.

“Will you get Mistress Mary, please Gristle?” Merric asked. The servant bowed and left. “Mistress Mary is the Mistress of Servants in the palace. She will take you to your rooms that will already contain all your baggage that you brought. Too bad Salma had to retire. She was a nice lady.”

Mirragen pursed her lips and nodded. But she continued watching Merric, making him nervous. “Would you like something to drink, Mirragen?” Merric asked. Mirragen shook her head.

“Well, it’s a good thing you got here before tonight. Tonight’s the last night for pages to come.” Merric tried to sound like simple conversation, but Mirragen didn’t say anything, just nodded slightly and watched him. It was quiet in the room for the next ten minutes, Merric getting more nervous by the second, while Mirragen watched him, knowing that by each second that passed, she owned him.

“Hello, sir. You called?” a short lady who was half as wide as she was tall bustled in ten minutes later, curtsying to Merric. She looked like the perfect motherly-figure, and Mirragen would wager she was the Dancing Dove’s innkeeper’s sister.

“Yes, Mary, would you take Mirragen of Tirragen to her rooms, please?” Merric asked politely. Mary curtsied again, and Mirragen stood, and followed the big woman out of the room, the servant closing it behind the fourteen-year-old.

Merric sighed and leaned his face on a hand, the elbow resting on the desk. He opened one of the drawers, where a bottle of whiskey was kept, and he took a small sip. “Why do I have to get all the bad kids? I’ll bet Lord Wyldon or anyone before me ever had this problem. Whoever that general Ha Minch-ie was, why did he have to go and get killed in battle?” Merric asked himself, putting away the whiskey.

Hey why doesn''t he like her? Bring the horse back in or gve it to me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Write more!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


Tchao!
~Cinnamony Sweet~

There are three kinds of people in this world.

People who can count

And people who can't!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Well, I am going to bring back the horse! Geez, spaz. JKs, jks, pls don't be mad at me, terribly sorry. Yah, I don't know my place in here. But yah, other than that, it was practically sarcasm. Ok, yah, haha, sorry.