Writing: Ianthe and Isra

    I was just going through my hard-drive and realized that I had more of Ianthe and Isra than I had initially assumed and, since I really enjoy these two, I decided to post it.

   Maybe I'll get around to posting something aside from writing one of these days...

   Ianthe and Isra were inspired by a Japanese manga I read quite a while ago, placed in a desert with a quite different storyline, but my brain was churning anyways. After all was said and done, I had a pair of twin sisters, the older of which is Isra. As the elder, she is the 'chosen' of the two. She will be the one to inherit their father's duties as the tribal leader upon his eventual death. Ianthe, though she seems a good deal older, is the guardian. She appears older by necessity. She must have her wits about her at all times in order to protect Isra from anyone who would harm her.

   These bits begin shortly after, while traveling in a caravan, Ianthe and Isra are captured by the militants beneath Malika, a woman who rules over a rather vast area, left to her by her husband upon his death a handful of years ago. And, as you will see, Ianthe decides to sacrifice herself one last time for her sister.


     Ianthe gripped the edges of her cloak, holding an arm out to shield her sister from the dark eyes of the woman reclining before them.
    “What do you want?” she asked, injecting every ounce of strength she could muster into her words.
    “You are the chosen sister?” Malika, leader of their captors, did not appear to have heard Ianthe’s question, as she voiced her own in a liquid voice.
    Ianthe nodded. She had already ordered Isra to play along, don’t say anything, and to let her handle it. Because, in truth, Isra had been chosen when they were born. Isra would be the one to inherit everything from their father upon his death. Her own role would be to protect her sister until that day which she wed.
    But it was a simple matter to fool someone not of their tribe into believing that Ianthe was the superior of the two. All it had taken was a switch of the cloak and rapid-fire instructions to Isra before the horsemen had reached them.
    Even now, she still wore the deep amethyst dyed cloak of her sister, and the other her own sand colored one.
    Ianthe drew out of her thoughts to again inquire, “What do you want with us?”
    Malika drew to her feet with slow movements, pacing over to stand before the younger woman. 
    “You two will be inducted into my clan,” the woman stated bluntly.
    The guardian balked.



    “I will stay here,” Ianthe told Malika in a low tone, meeting the older woman’s eyes. “But in return for my complete cooperation, my guardian must be returned to my father.”
    Hooded eyes studied her for a long moment. “Tell me why this is.”
    “Why I would give myself up?”
    Malika inclined her head.
    “Because I am the only one that would satisfy you, and it would be more beneficial for you to have one cooperative captive as opposed to two who would fight you every step of the way.”
    “You have a valid point. And all you require is your guardian being returned to your father’s tent?”
    “Yes.”
    “You are a brave chosen; I have known few others who would do what you do for your sister.”
    Ianthe smiled grimly. You do not know the half of it. “It is the least I can do after stealing her right to have a life of her own.”
    The monarch nodded again. “Say your farewells then; I will have her delivered on your father’s doorstep, and in turn, you will remain here as long as I desire it, and none shall come in a foolish attempt to rescue you.”
    “Very well,” Ianthe murmured, turning to face her little sister.
    Isra’s eyes were wide, and the guardian could tell she was struggling to keep her composure.
    Kneeling before the young woman, Ianthe dropped her voice to a scarce whisper. “Isra, you must heed my words, and do not deviate from them. Do you understand?”
    She received an unsteady “I am listening, Ianthe. Speak what you will.”
    “There are two things you must attend upon reaching Father; the first, do not allow him to attack your escorts, but do not allow them to depart until Father has written, in his own hand with the Iparsha dye, that you have arrived and are safely in his care once more. Give the letter to them and they will return it to me. The second is that you must convince Father to abandon all hope of rescuing me. Do you understand, Isra? Father must not attempt to come after me. I do not wish to see how hard the hammer would fall upon our tribe should we break my pact with Malika.”
    “But, Ianthe—“
    “No, Isra. He must not come after me. You will return, marry the man who holds your heart, and forget me.”
    “I will never forget you, sister,” Isra whispered, tears filling her eyes despite her struggle against them. “Neither you, nor all you have sacrificed for me. Thank you.”
    Ianthe could see the underlying gratitude for the protection she had provided for the better part of their lives.

    I've always intended to write more of these two, so maybe in the coming months I'll get around to it. There is a good deal that happens to Ianthe while she resides in Malika's court, which I've been meaning to start pinning down.

    In the meantime, I hope you've enjoyed these blips and thank you so much for reading! Comments are always welcome.

   Ad astra per aspera.
   To the stars, through difficulties.