Title: The Trescyan Chronicles
Rating: PG-13 (I'm 14, but I thought of the ideas while I was 13, so
if I wrote it then it's got to be safe for people my age right? Very
confusing theory there. Maybe I shall write an essay about it when I
have the time.)
Warnings: None (No slash. Isn't that a surprise now?)
Summary: Set in a valley filled with beauty unknown to the outside
world, the Trescyan people live in safety, their exceptional magic
making them formidable. Their only fear is that of a rival community
which harbours mages far stronger than most of the Trescyans. But
there is still hope that has been unleashed.
Chapter One - Promising Hope
The sun's rays over the eastern horizon glinted off sleek silver-
grey coupled with the greenery of the towering oak trees. The horse's
back reflected off the sunlight, and the figure moving it skilfully
through the meadow wore a light-coloured suit that resembled a modern
version of robes, with an open collar and long sleeves with cuffs that
sparkled in the light, the gold threads woven into the cloth giving it
a very sophisticated look. The distant chirping of the wild birds lent
a ringing melody to an otherwise silent world still caught up in the
sleep of a warm summer morning, and the occasional neigh of a horse
passing through the valley with an early-morning traveller rang out in
The girl sprang through the trees, nimbly snaking through them
like a monkey, silver hair splattered with dirt and flying out behind
her like liquid white fire. She screeched to a sudden halt just as she
reached the horse, and the figure atop it turned, pulling the reins in
her hand. "Ah. Good morning, Tevelyn. You're in a fine state today,
did you know? Come to watch me practise? You should not have skipped
practise yesterday like you did, you know. Your father was quite mad,
but thankfully I was not called upon to bear the brunt of it."
Tevelyn grinned as she glanced at the horse, which was pawing
the ground impatiently. "It's going really well, Lainey," she remarked
casually. "Of course, you're the best rider around, aren't you?" The
two of them broke into girlish giggles, the sound of their laughter
coursing through their surroundings. Looking at them, it was hard to
say just how they could be best friends - while Tevelyn had silver
hair, purple eyes and a hot temper that one would never have guessed
from looking at her, Lainey was calm and exotic-featured, with pretty
brown eyes and ebony hair. The fact that they were both nearing
fourteen and shared the same birthday did not seem to affect the
"Well, I'll be ready by next week, if all goes well," Lainey
said, wiping off the dirt on her hands. "I shall expect a really good
payment for this contest - it's the sixth time I'm being asked to
honour our reputation as 'master riders'. Master Crevan must be
failing in his job, if he cannot seem to teach you the proper way of
riding." She grinned. "Or maybe it's your fault?"
"I suppose the likelihood of that is far greater than the
other," Tevelyn conceded. "After all, Master Crevan is the best mage
we have in Trescya, and if he cannot seem to teach me properly even
with all his knowledge, it must be my fault." Then an alarmed look
spread across her face. "Speaking of which, I'm late for my lessons
with him! See you later, Lainey - I have to go!" She dashed off, and
Lainey stared amusedly after her before returning to her task.
Many servants in the corridors of the Venera house that morning
would have reported a silver and blue blur streak past them a few
minutes later, feet thundering down the corridor. Tevelyn rushed down
the hallway and almost fell over the threshold into the study, landing
with a thump on the carpet. Too late she realised she hadn't bothered
to brush her hair properly or freshen up, and she looked up with
chagrin at the room's other occupant.
Dark brown hair fell over his shoulders, fringe flicked over his
forehead as he calmly brushed away the dust from a book on the
bookcase, ignoring Tevelyn's sudden arrival. Master Crevan could look
very magnificent when he wanted to, and today was especially so in his
black robe with purple hems and gold sparkles dotting the cloth. He
turned towards Tevelyn after a moment, fair face calm despite the
extraordinary situation. "You may go and wash up first, Miss Tevelyn,
and we will commence your lessons immediately after that," he said in
his usual soft-spoken way, and Tevelyn scrambled to her feet, hurrying
to the bathroom.
It was five minutes and a very dirty toilet later when she raced
back into the room, skidding to a halt in front of the table. "Can we
don't do indoor lessons today, Master Crevan? It's a wonderful morning
out there, and books are so awfully boring!" She eyed the books he had
on the table with exasperation. "I don't particularly want to study
Crevan raised an elegant eyebrow as she grinned sheepishly.
"Personally, Miss Tevelyn, I have no objection, but your father would,
and I cannot afford to anger him. Perhaps half an hour of indoor
lesson first? Then you may practise your swordplay outside in the
garden, if you so wish. Now come and finish your essay." He pushed a
piece of parchment over to her, along with an ink bottle and a quill.
"If you finish it quickly there will be more time to do what you wish
to do. Do we have ourselves a deal, Miss Tevelyn?"
"I suppose," Tevelyn allowed reluctantly, picking up the quill
and staring at the parchment, over which her untidy handwriting was
scrawled. Somehow, she could not remember what she last wrote, and she
looked up at Crevan, who was busying himself with a large book. "Um,
Master Crevan, I cannot recall what I last wrote. Perhaps we could
recap the last lesson?" She remembered with guilt that the very same
thing had happened the last three lessons.
Crevan did not lose his patience, only nodded and opened a large
book, launching into a detailed explanation of the political system of
the Trescyans and how it had been changed over the past centuries.
Already Tevelyn's attention was elsewhere, and she gazed out of the
window until the mage tapped her on the shoulder. "Miss Tevelyn, I am
under the impression that you did not pay attention to what I said
just now. Please understand that if you do not listen carefully you
will not be able to write the essay well, and your father will not be
pleased. And as you know, I will take the due consequences."
At that moment, a knock sounded on the door, and Mr Venera,
Tevelyn's father, came in. Tevelyn immediately looked at Crevan, who
simply smiled reassuringly. Mr Venera inclined his head slightly as he
surveyed the essay. "Good morning, Crevan. I come to inspect how my
daughter is doing in her studies. Perhaps you could give me a report
on it?" He looked especially stern, a far cry from his usual attitude.
In any matter dealing with Tevelyn's studies he was especially strict.
Tevelyn gulped. This would not be good.
"She is performing quite up to standard for someone her age,"
Crevan said smoothly, and Tevelyn almost gasped in shock but steadied
herself. She remembered with some regret that Master Crevan was not
known for telling on his students, but she supposed she had not paid
much respect to him. And here he was, actually hiding the truth from
her father. "In fact, she is progressing quite well, and she will
probably be up to 1st warrior standards by her birthday. With your
permission, Mr Venera, I would grant her a sword by then." He bowed
"Of course, Crevan, I would not mind anything you suggested if
she has really improved that much," Mr Venera said happily. "I'm
pleased that she's working so hard. I'll see you later, shall I? The
council is meeting for lunch today, and you're welcome to join us if
you so wish. I will give you a lift to the council house after
Tevelyn's lessons, if you don't have anything on. Will it be alright?"
"Of course," Crevan replied, with another slight bow. "Thank you
very much." At that, Mr Venera seemed satisfied, and he left the room.
The moment the door swung shut, Tevelyn let out a sigh of relief,
looking up at Crevan, who just smiled casually and took another book
from the bookcase. "Please finish your work, Miss Tevelyn. I hope you
may finish this essay by today, so that I would not have to bother
about it anymore."
"Thanks, Master Crevan," Tevelyn muttered, staring fixedly down
at the parchment and writing a few more lines. Crevan nodded, and for
a few moments the only sound in the room was the scratching of the
quill on the parchment and the rustle of paper as Crevan busied
himself with a book. Tevelyn finished the essay soon enough and signed
her name with a flourish. "I'm done, Master Crevan."
"You may leave it on the table," Crevan said, getting to his
feet and going to the shelves at the other end of the room, where
three swords lay in their sheaths. Choosing two, he gave one to
Tevelyn, who drew the shining blade out of its confines, running a
finger along the hilt. "We shall begin as soon as we go to the
gardens. After you." He swept an elegant hand at the door that led to
Early spring rain had caused the flowers to bloom particularly
early, and the air was filled with the sweet songs of the birds.
Crevan held up his sword and beckoned Tevelyn forward. "We'll proceed
to the next level of training if you manage to win today. Playing fair
of course." He laughed softly, the wind whipping his dark brown hair
across his face. "C'mon!"
Tevelyn rushed forward, laughing despite herself. It was these
times that Crevan seemed to lighten up, unlike his usual attitude of
courteous formality. She remembered that he'd been quite young when
she was born, but somehow she couldn't really remember what happened
long ago. And later he'd become her teacher. Her father and mother
approved of him greatly, but sometimes she could not help but feel
that there was far more to Crevan than simple surface looks itself. He
was that sort of person who would stand silently at the sidelines and
watch the goings-on. Until, of course, the situation became desperate.
Then he would jump in.
There was the time the tornado had struck when she was ten years
old. It hadn't caused much damage, truth be told, but the Trescyans
had had quite a scare. She dimly remembered Crevan rushing to her aid,
a bright light emitting from his twin swords. The sky had cleared
drastically in the space of two seconds, and Mr Venera had praised
Crevan with all sincerity, even though it was clearly stated in 'The
Laws and Traditions of the Trescyans, Volume VII' in chapter XI that
'protection of the citizens is one of the required practices of the
court mage'. Tevelyn had read the book cover to cover, for it was
about the only book that actually interested her.
She swung the sword forward with all her might, not really
caring where it hit. Crevan chuckled as he easily blocked the advance.
Tevelyn rolled her eyes to heaven as she dropped the law about
'playing fair', and she rushed towards him, jabbing quickly at
Crevan's side. The mage was extremely ticklish, and he fell to the
ground, still expertly holding the sword. She tripped over the hem of
his robes and fell over him, and Crevan let out a muffled groan.
"Please get off, Miss Tevelyn. You have gained weight."
She scrambled off and picked up the sword that had fallen to the
floor. Crevan sat up quickly, flicking back his hair. "I remember
telling you to play fair. That would not count now would it?" There
was a sparkle in his eyes, and she knew that he didn't mean it.
"Well, if the enemy I'm fighting is ticklish, then this would
work, wouldn't it?" Tevelyn reasoned, cleaning the mud-stained blade.
Crevan nodded slightly, but the moment of play was over, and he got to
his feet, slicing the sword through the air in one swift motion.
Tevelyn heard the whoosh of air as it blew past her, and a wind
accompanied it. Crevan was good at this. "Anything more, Master
"I suppose not," Crevan replied, opening the door to the study.
"I shall let you off today since your father will be coming in a few
minutes. But tomorrow we will have more indoor lessons. Please do not
forget to remind your brother that he has a lesson with me tonight.
I'll see you soon. Good-bye."
Tevelyn left the study, dancing down the hallway. Crevan stared
after her for a moment, ensuring that no unfortunate mishaps happened
on her way out of the corridor, and then turned back inside the study,
picking up the parchment. With a frown line creasing his eyebrows, he
started correcting the essay, now and then raising an eyebrow as
sentences outrageously ridiculous popped out from the paper.
That girl is seriously exasperating, he thought to himself as he
scratched out the fifth sentence in a row. But I owe it to this
family. I won't let them down.
Feedback is highly desired! Please?