|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Fri Nov 13, 2009 3:31 pm
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Nov 13, 2009 3:31 pm
Foreword
Take a moment, and go look at the nice little page near the beginning that says where this was created, when, who the author was, and all that fun stuff. Notice that is says this novel is fiction. In fact, you probably grabbed this book out of the fiction area in your library; or maybe you got this at Borders, or Barnes and Nobles. Don’t believe that fiction part for an instant. This should be in non fiction, but something I’ve realized is that publishers are idiots, and have thick skulls. Tell them what you know is right, and they’ll ignore it, or, even do the opposite, just to piss you off.
Rather nice, isn’t it?
But I’m not here in order to show you new writers, or you people who know new writers, how bad the system is. Nah, I’ll wait for you to figure that out yourselves. I’m here to point out that this is real.
Celterica did exist, long, long ago. In fact, if you look, some very old civilizations have maps, or places drawn onto walls that are disturbingly close to what Celterica looked like, if not exactly the same. How, may I ask, can that be just coincidental?
There is art, in fact, on pottery and graves and such, or even altars to their gods, where you can see images of the women in this story. Or, at least, most of them. Exact replicas of those women, imprinted on clay and stone.
Now you’re thinking that I just wrote this novel after I found out about all that s**t. Well, you’re wrong. In fact, a few days before this was going to be printed, I received a phone call from my niece, who’s been working on artifacts and relics like the ones I just mentioned above. I’d sent everyone in my family a copy of this novel for them to read over. Not to fix, but to read over. Everyone had responded but her, until now.
‘You’re not gonna believe this.’ She assured me as soon as I had said ‘Hello?’
Without waiting for me to respond, she continued, ‘I read that awesome novel of yours, and thought I saw something that linked it to here -’ She never got that chance to tell me where ‘here’ was - ‘and went out for a few more days with the crew, just in case. There are these markings of places and women everywhere, and they match Celterica and you’re women perfectly!’
I believe I almost fainted. But sure enough, when she sent me pictures of her and her crew’s discoveries, I could see Beltryd on the walls of a king’s tomb. The Draconic Peak Mountains were engraved on pottery.
I hurried to call my publisher, who, to my relief, actually agreed to give my three days to write my foreward in, before he was printing the novel without it. I thank God for making me a fast typer.
The only reason I wrote this was to try and make you all see that I have proof, that this is real, and that you should go into not looking at it like ‘oh, another fiction novel,’ But like ‘This could be real. I know this.’
And no, for all you who think I’m nuts, I’m not on drugs, I’m not ‘striving for attention,’ and I didn’t drink to much before writing this. Heck, the novel isn’t even mine, so I don’t have a right to get drunk of high and write something for it.
I’ve told you about it, that’s all I can really do, I suppose. Now, go and read the damn novel. Please. For Story.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Nov 13, 2009 3:43 pm
Chapter One
With quick, important steps, you walk into a tree. Cursing up a storm, and rubbing at the spot on your forehead where you will most certaintly have a bruise, you push yourself back up, on hand on a thick, grotesque tree root, fingers digging into the moss. Your other hand reaches up and grab onto a dry, brittle, and prickily tree branch that quivers, ready to break.
Once you’re finally up, and have added a ‘s**t.’ to your soliloquy for good measure, you notice something rather odd. While there are trees around his house, you can be rather sure that this is not the tree line of your friend, Robert’s house, and this is most certaintly not where you had expected to arrive when you walked away from that party, needing to go to the bathroom.
Indeed, this forest is old. Very old, and you can’t help but feel a chill, deep in your thousands of years old animal insctint that something is very wrong, and that you shouldn’t be there. The old, tangled roots make up the floor of this place, the smalls one as thick as your upper leg. Branches, thin, brittle and claw like cover up the entire sky, making a ceiling and blocking out the sun, if there was a sun in this world to begin with, You frown, shrug, and relieve yourself anyway. There is a loud creak, once you’re finished, and you look up at the tree behind, and now slightly above you, in unspeakable terror. The tree if leaning over you, like you might lean over an interesting bug, before squashing it.
At that thought, you run.
The trees make no move to stop you, but they do not move their branches to make escaping easier. After many stumbles, and a few close falls, you abruptly reach a path coated in sunlight, and smothered in the wholest, and most beautiful autumn leaves. You feel at peace immediately. With each breath, you taste sweet serenity. And without thinking of even wanting to, you start to walk towards the small, shimmering wood cabin up in a small clearing. The autumn leaves, you notice absently, are falling around the house like you’re inside a shaken up snow globe. The thought makes you chuckle.
As soon as you reach the cabin, you set your eager, twitching hand upon the soft iron doorknob, and twist and push. Silently, the door opens. You step inside. It is dark, inside the cabin, and much more roomy then you could’ve imagined. The single, wooden room is covered with old, cracking and dying books, that are coated with dust and would the said offensive pieace of clothing, and head towards the farthest back pile, as if answering some unspoken command.
At the very top of the farthest pile is a book that looks brand new. It is glossy, and beautiful, and could probably be thrown into the sea, pulled out two hours later, and have been perfectly fine. With a smile that looks as if you had inhaled a bit to much Novocain, you reach desperately for the book, feeling the need to touch it, smell it, feel it. Your fingers barely reach it. As soon as your entire hand falls upon it, you feel someone’s breath on your neck. Fingers hook around your arm, and you scream, yanking your hand away from the book and sending it to the floor with a loud, resounding bang. The person is gone, and you hold your breath, fearing that you may have aweoken something deep within this strange land.
Gods know how right you were.
The book shivers, and seems to purr, opening to the very first blank page, right in front of your shaking, frightened eyes. A ball of light shotos out from the apge, and the book stops purring, and shuts itself once more. The light seems to mill around your head before shooting behind you, and vanishing. You breath a sigh of relief. Now, you decide, is the perfect time to find the way back to Robert’s party.
“Boo.” Someone murmurs.
You jump, cry out, and spin around. Standing there is a most beautiful being, who entraps you immediately with her invisible stare. Her hair is short, silver, and runs very short in the back, showing her entire neck, to her chin in the front. She has a small, feminine nose, and skin that seems to be a mixture between porclian and the skin of a pale marrionete. She wears a torn up, rageed pink dress that shows much of thw white undergown, and has a pink headband with flowers attached to one side in her hair. A light blue cloak and has gold trim, and settles nicely on her delicate shoulders. You sense her smiling at you, but you cannot see a mouth on her smooth, pale face. No eyes are there either. A quill, looking much like one that a god may use, wraps itself around her neck. This is when you notice the thick cracks all across her skin.
“Hello.” She says.
Despite yourself, you hear a ‘hello’ leave your lips, as she bows deeply to you.
“Oh” she says softly, “My poor books. Oh, my sweet babies.”
You stare.
She shakes herself and turns her head towards you, crossing her pale, crack covered arms. “Are all of them like this?”
“No.” You answer numbly, suddenly feeling strangely calm. You point at the book that strange ball of light exited, which is laying on the floor in front of both of you.
“Ahhhh.” She breathes. Grabbing it tightly, she cuddles it to her chest and kisses the closest parts of it. “You saved my life, darling one.” She cooes to the book, making you look at her strangely.
“So did you, I suppose.” She adds. “You did awaken me when I should’ve come out of hibernation a long time ago.” Falling silent, she turns her head to the side and murmurs honestly, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Your breath. “Who are you? Where is this? What are all these books?”
“I am very confused.” She says sweetly. “This is a cabin, as you can tell, and what all these books are is paper, if I’m not mistaken.”
You groan. Here comes the headache express, you can’t help but think. She flicks her fingers, and the quill unwraps itself from her, neck, shivers, and two chairs made of ink suddenly appear. She sits in the one closest to her immediately, and motions with her fingers, making something shove you into the other.
“In return for saving me, I will give you something special.” She announces suddenly, looking up at you. “I will show you this story. My last one before I went into hibernation.”
You can’t argue, and relax into the amazingly dry ink seat. She raised the book, lowers it, and then throws it into the air, where it explodes, and rains down millions of pieces of paper. Your vision is clouded for a moment, but when it clears, you find yourself hovering aboves a strangely shaped land, still sitting in the ink chair.
“This.” The woman next to you thunders, her voice full of power and beauty. “Is Celterica, the home of your ancesetors, and the place that was destroyed quicker then God himself could have anticipated.”
Celterica was the land before the dinosaurs, you know. A vast landscape with everything from deserts to rainforstes, with icelands inbetween, and the ocean all around them. It was here, that there were nine main kingdoms. These nine kingdoms ruled over smaller kingdoms, who in turn ruled over nothing. The first of these kingdoms if the Draconic Peak Mountains. This is located in the very center of Celterica, and was said to hold the entire land together. Humans and dragons lived in peace in Draconic.
Far to the east is the land of frost. Located near the Frost Ocean, this is where the head barbarian tribe, the Frost Spirit Tribe, rules over all their brothers and sisters. These people live in snow and ice, but they are so used to the temperatures, they could walk around naked and not be bothered by the icey cold.
Across from the Frost Spirit Tribe, all the way to the west of Celterica, is Pasaelaer Var, which, in Evlin, translates to something like ‘The Forest of Death.’ It is located in the Ghost Woods, where the spirits of all the dead go if they have done something to tie themselves to Celterica. Pasaelaer Var used to be beautiful, but when our story starts, you will see no beauty.
Near Pasaelaer Var is Ashukin, where Kilyanox of the Night rules. Her kingdom has one very tall tower where she lives, tall enough that no assassin could hope to reach her. Ashukin is full of the people of the night, much like demons, though their job is to block out the sun at the right time every night.
Domus is the valley of Faeries, north of the Draconic Peak Mountains. It is a deep valley, full of flowers and grass and trees. The sun shines brightly here, and even in night, you can see by it’s light. Above the main pool is a large golden bubble. This is where the kings and queens rule from.
Dhig, oh Dhig. East, just like the Frost Tribe but not as far, is where thieves live. It is also the only place you’ll see dwarves around, I’ll reckon. While there are many other stronghold for thieves, this is a favourite, where the ebst of the best go.
Virgatus means ‘Where the Fish Swim.’ Deep in an underwater cleft, the sea people rule here, their home covered in algae and barnacles. It’s quite beautiful, but hard to reach.
Kelzergal is the home of the demons. North East of Draconic, it taints the land that is sits upon, withering and killing the plants and the animals.
And finally, Shaskka. Where the gods were raised as babes. Really not much to say about this place, I’ll be honest. It is beautiful, though. Carved fully out of the stone it’s set it, done by the dwarves before they turned evil.
She yawns. “Sorry if that was boring, but you must understand these places before we continue.” Without waiting for any sounds from you, the air shimmers again.
Now, a tragedy has just struck the land. In almost every kingdom, the kings contracted a deadly sickness, as did their wives. Healers from everywhere tried to desperately heal them, but to no avail. They wasted away, slowly but surely, before dying on the eighteenth of October. In almost every kingdom, there was a son ready to take the throne. Two days before their crowning, they all vanished. Later on, their poor sisters awoke to find their dead, mutilated -bodies for some, who had two ir more brothers, or body for some - laying next to them. The funerals were short, and all despaired.
When a tragedy like this happens, there is only one thing to do. As the royal line must continue, the princesses must step up to the throne, and ruled for their families. And so, against most reasoning, this was done. The princesses in almost every kingdom stepped up to the throne, and were made queen on October thirtieth, a day before the true night of All Hallows Eve.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Nov 13, 2009 3:49 pm
Chapter Two
Women had more rights here in Celterica then they did in the land you call ‘America’ or ‘Europe’ or any of the others. That didn’t mean that they ruled usually, in fact, only one time before this story did a woman rule, and that was of the land of demons…. And she is still ruling now.
But I wander. Now, there are nine kingdoms, and only eight of them had women start ruling. For the first time, I mean. Kelzergal has been ruled by a woman named Azanigin. She collects the souls of the dead, and uses them in ways that, while I know, you could not manage to.
Shush. You don’t know who killed the kings and the sons, so don’t just jump to conclusions. No, I’m not going to tell you if you were right or wrong. Now be quiet, I’m about to start the story.
Our story starts with Purla’s crowning, something that you’ll probably find interest in.
Dressed in black from head to foot, the loose gown over her body and veil over her mouth did nothing for the cold, as Purla had been warned to expect. How could it, when it was made from the finest Sylir, which did nothing for the cold, except perhaps magnify it. The doors to her childhood home, and now her sanctuary and the heart of her kingdom opened. A man walked in the middle, straight towards Purla, whilst two lines of women, one on each side, went by them slowly, raining purple and black flowers all across the ground.
As soon as the man reached her, Purla slid to the ground, kneeling and resting her hands and forehead against the ground. At an unspoken command, she kissed the ground once and then stood, only to have her head taken in his hands. His fingers touched her slightly tanned skin, the tips of them brushed against her gather, dark brown hair, and his thumbs rested just under her large, purple eyes. He gave her a comforting look, and then stepped back.
Draconic spilled from his mouth, and Purla’s brain easily switched it into common for the rest of her to understand. “By her birthright, given to her by being the first and only daughter of former king, and by being the first and only sister of former princes, Princesse Purla of the Amethyst dragonflight will become our new Queene, until she weds to a male of either the Amethyst or the Ash dragonflight, thereby making him King.”
His glowing grey eyes settled onto Purla, and he spoke directly to her. “Do you accept this responsibility, Princesse Purla? To love and cherish all of the Draconic Peak Mountains? To give us allies, to lead us into battle and to protect us from dangers? Do you accept full responsibility for all of us?”
I really don’t need to answer. She thought tiredly. It’s not like I have a choice, this is all for show. She answered anyway. “I will protect this land and her people, I swear it on the Father Sun and the Mother Moon.”
“Then strip yourself of your clothing, and show us that you have no fear of showing weakness to your people.” He answered flatly. Four of the ten women stepped up and gracefully removed her clothing, with quick, skilled hands.
How would I not be willing? Purla wondered. I’ve already showed weaknesses that no king would show at his brother’s and father’s funeral.
She felt that last of the Sylir fall away from her body, and openly shivered at the next cold breeze. Sounds of surprise and approval and showing this ‘weakness’ came from the crowds, and Purla could tell she stood a little taller.
“IF the dragons cannot accept you, then neither can we.” The male in front of her announced. We stand above the dragon roost, where all the dragons live and play and grow. Turn, and jump off the ledge. If one of them catches you, then you are truly our new Queene.”
It seemed the world and the air itself stood still as many of her subjects stopped breathing, looking to her in anticipation. She turned. Walking the short distance to the edge, Purla looked down without fear, remembering when one of her brothers had tossed her off of here at an early age, only to ogle in awe as she came back up, having been caught by a dragon. This would be just the same, she hoped.
She jumped.
The air rushed around her, giving her the feeling of being grounded, instead of lightheadedness. Fighting to open her eyes, she finally one over, and Purla was shocked to see the ground right underneath her. A scream left her mouth, that was sucked up by the wind and never to be heard from again. Just as the ground opened up it’s hungry arms, and Purla closed her eyes, ready for death, a strange cry came from behind her. The world faded into inky blackness.
As she regained control of her lungs, Purla let out a terrified scream, with reverberated against the stone walls before it seemed to crash straight into her chest, sending her against the soft pillows and gentle bed underneath her. Pillows…. Bed? Sitting up and looking around, She was surprised to see herself in the former king’s chambers, fine and well. “Oh God.” She said blankly.
“My Queene?” A hesitant, and extremely familiar voice came from beside Purla, and she rolled over, to stare at the woman who had made the sound. She was dressed in her normal white tunic and shoes, with the difference that she was wearing a white cap this time, and that she had a worried frown on her face.
“Mor.” Purla greeted her childhood friend. The sight of such a welcome face did not keep the happiness around for long, though. “What happened?” She asked tiredly.
“You almost died.” Mor answered. Purla could almost taste the honesty in her friend’s voice. “A dragon grabbed you right before you hit the ground. It was Old Smokey as well.” Mor couldn’t keep the fondness out of her voice as she spoke of the oldest dragon in the rook.
“Why didn’t they grab me before I fell so far?” Purla asked. She stretched her arms up until her palms touched the headboard, the loosened them again.
“We don’t know.” And it seemed like Mor wanted to break down with those three simple words. “We don’t ******** know.”
And with that, both girls let go, releasing the tears they’d held back for so long.
“My Queene!” Stirring, Purla looked to her friend in confusion.
“What is it? Is Old Smokey having another fit?”
Mor shifted slightly. “No. A visitor, from another kingdom. She says she’s the Queene there, and that she wants to talk to you.”
“At so late in the evening? Is it that demon queene?” Rubbing at her eyes, Purla tried to remove the last bit of sleep from her body, already knowing she was trying in vain.
“No.” The handmaiden shifted uncomfortably. “Well…. She can’t be, at least. She has huge wings, and her hair is made out of real spun gold.”
Purla was sure she’d just choked on her own spit. Staggering out of the bed, she signaled to Mor, who quickly removed a purple gown and veil from her Queene’s closet, bringing it over to the woman in question.
“Thank you.” Purla struggled into the dress, and was relieved to feel the fourteen year old’s quick, deft hands helping along, tugging at the buttons and smoothing down the fabric, or yanking lightly at the trim, making it more sharply defined.
“Hair, my Queene.” Mor murmured when Purla unwittingly tried to escape, and ignoring her lady’s groan of protest, she quickly tugged the guilty hair up and onto the top of her head, securing the style with a purple ribbon that was sporting pretty purple flowers.
“Now you may go.”
“You’re coming.” Without waiting for a response, Purla tugged her wrist and dragged her along, as she quickly walked for the ‘throne room.’
Chryseis of the Golden Branch was the last gold faerie in Celterica. The thought did not bother her, scare her, or worry her. She had expected to be the last, and would probably be so until another golden was born from the flowers, this one for her to mate with only.
There is no way another Golden would take my place, male or not. Chryseis thought, shifting in the seat the little human thing had shown her to. Not after all the heartbreak I went through, what, with my family dying on me and all.
She looked around the empty room, which was lit by only the fire in the fireplace. It was like most mountain kingdoms, stone, colored with purple and grey though, not green like usual. What a strange choice the Queene made in decorating. Chryseis thought, smiling.
The sound of steps alerted her to the Queene’s presence, and she waited expectantly for the long awaited meeting. Purla stepped up, and Chryseis would willingly admit the other was pretty. Not gorgeous, like herself, but pretty. And, by the other woman’s gasp, Chryseis knew that her beauty was once more being admired. It was not easy, having hair made of gold, eyes of sapphires, and skin like a porcelain doll, but she made due, which was more then asked of her.
“Greetings, Queene.” The other said, stepping lightly across the ground and up the stairs, to the stage like setting with Chryseis sat. Purla sat in the other chair, and the Fae watched her silently.
“Greetings, Queene Purla.” Chryseis answered softly.
“If you do not mind me asking, milady, why are you here so late in the night? And who are you?”
This woman seemed to get to the point. Or was she just angry because she’d been woken up? Chryseis stopped her mouth from twitching up in amusement, suddenly picturing Purla, decimating armies because they’d woken her up, wanting to fight. I’ll suggest to put a sign that says ‘sleeping dragon’ in front of her door later. To the handmaiden, of course.
Deciding that Purla had waited anxiously for long enough, Chryseis answered her questions. “I am Chryseis of the Golden Branch, Queene of the Faerie Folk. I’m here to… make sure I got here first.” She signaled to the other Queene, who looked confused but gave a slight nod to the handmaiden.
Once the handmaiden was gone, Chryseis relaxed. “You see, my father and brother died as well as yours. But I know who did this. I know who had to have done it! Purla, we are the good in this world. How could we be defeated, except if we were to overcome with heartbreak to fight of the oncoming armies of war?”
“What armies? I have had no such reports!” Purla glared at Chryseis, who resisted laughter once more. She thinks I am part of those armies…
“They have not yet formed, but they will. The demon Queene must have done it, and turned some of our former allies against us. Purla, we are powerful, yes. But we cannot handle this alone. You must help me create an army to stop them!”
The human hesitated, and then shook her head. “I must consult with my men. I shall speak with you later, Queene Chryseis.”
The other held back a scream of rage at this human’s stupidity. “Of course. I apologize milady.”
“How do you know this, Chryseis? You know about the army that even the dragons don’t know about, you know about me, about all this…” Purla motioned with her hand. “I can feel it. But how?”
Chryseis nearly sat down again, as a feeling of weakness took over her. No one had ever questioned her upon where her logic came from. She’d never been asked how she knew things. And yet this human was sensing much more then she should. She was digging into Chryseis, and Chryseis wasn’t sure she wanted that.
“I have lived.” Chryseis finally answered, her voice little more then a weak whisper. “For a very long time. And I know things because of this.” She struggled for a few moments with her feelings, beat those feelings with her staff and locked them in a cage before adding, in a stronger voice, “I suggest you don’t ask things like that again. Hardly the proper question that a Queene would ask.”
Purla looked upon her with narrowed eyes, as if seeing through her thin façade of calm and breaking through her simple lie. Luckily, she didn’t comment, just bowed her head and stood. “Of course. Goodbye, Queene Chryseis, good luck on your journey home, wherever that may be.” She walked down the stairs. “I will have Mor show you out.”
The handmaiden appeared, as if mentally summoned, and she led Chryseis to the door. “Goodbye, milady.” She said, before the door silently closed.
Chryseis stood still for a moment, before her wings spread, and she hurriedly flew back to Domus.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Nov 13, 2009 3:57 pm
Chapter Three
It is the city Virgatus that we will now travel to, meat puppet. Shush! I’m telling a story! Don’t ‘ow’ me. Next time I’ll hit you with my chair. Anyway, Virgatus is where Zephrya lives and rules. Come and meet her and her people…
Virgatus’s name was straightforward and to the point. Always was, always would be. ‘Where the fish swim’ was the perfect name for an underwater castle. Much better then naming the Elf kingdom Virgatus, or renaming Virgatus ‘Colio,’ which more or less translates to ‘Where there is dry land.’
Such was the name of Zephrya. Her name had many meanings which all fit her - stubborn, tomboyish, quick-thinking, strong, silent. The main meaning, however, fit the Queene perfectly. ‘She who goes with the winner.’ Zephrya always marveled at how well her freshly dead mother knew about her. If asked, she would shamelessly admit that she would join the side that was winning, or would win, whether that side was evil or not. The Thief Queene would have applauded her on that, Zephrya was sure.
Of course, her mother was right to know her. Octopuses had the uncanny ability to create their child’s frame of mind in any manner that they wished. ‘Zephrya’ was her mind set. Just as her mother’s had been Ernit, ‘She of much power and many lovers.’
Zephrya. Queene, lover, killer, ruler.
This is mine. All mine. Zephrya released a pure, harmonic laugh that rang like bells throughout the entire sea. She raised one hand, the human skin dragging through her short, blonde, poofy human hair. Her tentacles swayed beneath her, twisting and curling in a timeless dance. The black dress she wore floated along with her tentacles, both stained by a squid’s fresh blood.
Speaking of blood… She grinned savagely, and reached her hand to the tentacles of Mr. Squid. He was dead now, and hadn’t put up much of a fight against Zephrya, considering how big he was. She yanked a handful of the tentacles off of the body, and raised them to her mouth, noting with some amusement that they’d tangled around her fingerless black and white striped gloves. It was as if they were trying to save themselves from her hunger.
Well, to bad. My child - Zephrya patted her bulging belly with her free hand - If hungry as well. She took two of the tentacles with her teeth, and slurped them up. “Mmm. Calamari.”
Another ruthless laugh. Lazily, Zephrya finished the corpse off, before throwing the remains to all of her shark friends swimming below. It was entertaining, watching them fight over the food their mistress had given them.
Standing up on the rock, she pushed herself off, and swam towards the sharks, wrapping her tentacles around a few of them, only to loosen her gruip a second later. “Time to go.” She informed the sharks, who nervously swam around her in response.
Embarrassed they didn’t see me leaving, eh? Smirking, Zephrya continued to swim, letting her arms wrapped around her belly and letting her tentacles do all the work. Another year, another child. This aimless thought drifted over her mind, as she tapped her belly with her fingers a few times. Almost time to come, little child. Luckily, I ate your father this time, so he can’t eat you like he did to poor Wihlehema.
She suddenly stopped swimming, and looked at her now seeable home with excitement. Everyone inside of there was hers. Hers to love, hers to help, hers to kill. Hers.
Zephrya shivered. Cooling down her flowings emotions, she looked once more at the beautiful stone buildings that filled Virga Canyon. They were old, and most likely belonged to some Elvin kingdom, or something like that. Perhaps it was even the ‘Long lost dwarf city’ that all the humans up above seemed to love babbling on about. Babbling. Smiling secretly to herself, Zephrya plucked a beautiful sea daisy from the nearest canyon wall, and started tugging at every one of it’s blue petals.
They babble, they babble not. They babble, they babble not. They babble, not… She purred in amusement, already able to tell what the last petal would be. Eating the entire flower from the stem, she murmured, “And they babble on, and on, and on.”
Dropping the stem, Zephrya swam for her castle.
I wouldn’t be surprised if her land really was the lost Dwarf kingdom. How it got there, I have no clue. If I had actually tried to find out, there’s a good chance I would have alerted someone to my presence, making this story unfinishable, and throwing the balance of the world off.
Yeesh. Don’t look at me like that! I didn’t do any research, so don’t worry, the world is fine. … Don’t make me hit you with a book again. So, if you’re quite finished interrupting me… I’ll continue the story.
Technically, Zephrya observed as she swam towards her castle, my city is not in the canyon, it’s in a circular hole, like a wishing well but much more beautiful.
The light shone in from the very top, streaming through the thinnest water to try and penetrate the darkness that was thousands of leagues underneath the sea top. And in a way, the light did reach down to Virgatus. Much of the coral and shells and rock wehre glittery, and reflected light. Thus, when placed in the right areas, the entire place would be bright like a real morning up on land. Her people enjoyed having ‘days’ as well as ‘nights.’
Zephrya hated it, but for what reason could she command all the glittery stuff be removed, and never seen again? She had a feeling she was already pushing the limits with her friendships above land and under the sea. A riot was not what she wanted as of her crowning.
Shaking herself, -which caused the water to froth into tiny bubbles around her- Zephrya swam the last few inches to her castle, irritably ignoring all the stares from her confused subjects.
The castle was warm, large, and had two parts. The bottom part was for mainly water breathers. It was full of water that you could change the flow of, making navigation easier. The walls were green with algae, and her ‘bed’ consisted of a large mother-of-pearl clam that she’d sleep inside of.
The top half had no water in it, and was for air breathers that were visiting. It was covered in moss instead of algae, and Zephrya had a real bed instead of a clam. To her, it was always like light and night. Mother and father. They both had a space in this castle, and though she never knew her father, she had a feeling he would’ve gotten all sappy and happy about that.
A heavy iron portcullis, and behind that, a solid iron door.
It was through the water covered floor that Zephrya swam, lazily brushing all of the glowing blue markings that would change how the water flowed for her. She could see her shark hunting companions swimming away from the gate. She only allowed the most intelligent fish into her castle. Speaking of intelligent fish… where was her slave sister? Swimming up to one of the coral seats in her throne room, Zephrya called out, “Slave!”
“Queene.” A tired voice answered. Her sister, same limp blue hair and blank black eyes stood before her, getting up from a bow.
“Slave, what are my duties for today and tomorrow?” Zephrya questioned, leaning back and dragging a hand through the short, dandelion like mat on her head that was called ‘hair’.
“The Queene Azanigin has requested a meeting with you.”
“When?”
“Tomorrow, whenever she stops by.”
The Queene scowled. “Of course. Dirty little demon.”
Her sister just stared.
“Go then, if that’s all. Out of my sight!” She screeched the last part, sending her sister running.
Zephrya sank back into her seat. Despite being upset that she had to meet with Azanigin of all people, the sight of her older sister always amused her. Shouldn’t have eaten that apple, hunny. Or, if we’re on the topic of ‘Shouldn’t haves,’ then you shouldn’t have believed that love note, darling one. I was always smarter then you, though. Mother knew from the start who was to be Queene. Me.
Her sister would have gone into conniptions if she’d been told that Zephrya would betray her in the future. She was always so trusting, so sweet and gentle. Was is the keyword there, of course. Now she didn’t trust anyone, let alone talk to anyone.
Actually, Zephrya mused, twirling one of her many tentacles around her fingers, The only time she talks is if I ask a question. How funny, that she could be brought so low by someone. Even better that it was by me, who she helped Mother raise. She giggled, in a way that was both sweet and gentle yet frightening and demonic.
Calming, Zephrya stood and swam gracefully towards her room, closing the door and slipping into the wet softness that was her Mother of Pearl bed’s mouth. I better get some sleep, she decided, what, with that demon coing here and all. After tugging in all the tips of her tentacles, she rapped on the roof of the thing’s mouth, and it closed, engulfing her in inky blackness.
When she awoke, the clam opened it’s mouth and allowed her to climb out. She swam for the door, blinking that last few remnants of sleep and exsaustion from her eyes. She swam out the door, and through the hallways until she reached the iron door. Placing and hand on the portcullis, she closed her eyes and felt her body tumble into the water, transforming into small pockets of air inside of the water. Zephrya swam foreward, and all of those parts slipped through the portcullis and under the gate, only to retransform into Zephrya on the other side.
She inhaled the air, made a face, and allowed her tentacles to crawl her foreward, towards the lounge. Being half human, she could breath air, but a factor of children like her was this: If you let your child breath air, she will be better on land. If your child breathes water, then she will be better in the lakes, rivers, and oceans. The world still stayed true to the point, and so Zephrya had been born under the water, only days after the Theif King Jesiah had tried to steal her mother’s Seeing Orb.
Damn thieves. She grumbled to herself, pausing in midstep. Their just as bad as Azanigin.
“Don’t compare me to them.” A silky voice, full of the screams of the dead and damned purred into Zephrya’s ears, even as Azanigin wrapped her arms around Zephrya’s waist and just above her breasts, yanking them together.
“Azanigin.” One of her tentacles pushed them apart, while the others undid both of Azanigin’s arms, stopping them from crushing her.
She turned to look at the demon Queene fully. Long, black, and ratty hair with two holes for eyes and pale pale skin. One of her arms was just bones, as was the oppisite leg. She wore a black dress, red ribbon sandles, and had a red pendant around her neck and a white feather like band across her hair. As her dead lips curled up into a smile, Zephrya could see that each tooth was made of metal, and was sharpened to be able to bite thought anything.
“Let us sit.” They walked silently to the lounge, and sat across from each other, Zephrya looked irritated and Azanigin looking calm and rather comfortable.
The two Queenes stayed locked in silence for a very long time. Neither attempted to brake it, only let their eyes meet as they stared at each other, both determined to make the other give up and speak first. Finally, Zephrya motioned with her tentacles lazily, and Azanigin smiled, bowing her head.
“I come here rather simply, ‘She who goes with the winner.’” Azanigin started. “First off, I will tell you that your loss was a gain for me, your brothers’ and your mother’s souls were purrfect for me.”
“I am glad that someone could get something out of it, ‘Woman of much misery’. I know my people couldn’t have, and neither could I or my sister.”
Her expression clearly said that she knew and agreed with this statement. “Indeed. I also must confess my congratulations on you child-” The demon motioned at Zephrya’s stomach “-And congratulate you on actually killing the father this time. I must admit, I did not think you would come to your senses.”
“I believed that he would have been smart enough to be able to take care of the children while I was off. I should have remembered that my male subjects are complete idiots.”
The demon nodded. “Men are good for two things. One of them’s battle, which they can screw up, and the other one… well, men almost always screw that up!” They both burst into laughter.
After a few more moments, in which the laughter died down and they once more stared at each other, Zephrya asked, “Why did you really come here, Azanigin?”
“It seems, that we are at the true point of business, then.” The Queene’s expression lost any mirth it may have had. “Would you really like to know? Speak truthfully.”
“Of course, who do you think I am?”
“Zephrya Akal Te Bono Sisbtat.” Came the prompt response, making Zephrya roll her eyes.
“Get to the point, please.”
“Alright.” Azanigin shifted, tapped her fingers on the arm of her chair, and then looked back at the other woman. “Celterica is going to war.”
“… Pardon?”
“Celterica is going to war, Zephrya Akal Te Bono Sisbtat.”
“Who? Who is starting this war and why?” Zephrya looked furious, her tentacles dug into the wooden legs of her chair, and a low sound much like a growl came from her throat.
“Queene Chryseis has gotten it into her silly head that I killed her family. A few days ago, she went to collect Purla to join her army. I fear that the Draconic Mountains are already lost to the Fae woman, and will not help me defend this attack.”
“And you want me to. I am suppose to risk all my people, for you. Who, by the way, I hate worse then thieves.”
“Of course I do.” Azanigin chuckled. “Because, you see, I have enough demons on my side to wipe Celterica out. But I don’t want that, I want to wipe Chryseis and her people out, and anyone who stands with her. Because of this, I need a more precise army. One that I can give the riches to once this is over, one that can take over the lands and keep them for their own.”
Zephrya felt like she had been frozen to her seat. The demon had found her weakness. Power. Gold. That was all Zephrya wanted from life. And now she’d found someone who was willing to give it to her. But there had to be something the Queene hadn’t mentioned yet…
“Who else is joining us?” Zephrya asked warily.
“Hmm?”
“Who else if joining your army?” Zephrya amended.
“Why would you every think I’d invite another to join?”
“Because. Chryseis will do things the normal way. The Fae always gathered up two allies when going to war. She had Purla, I’m sure. But shee needs one more. It’s rather obvious that she’ll either go to Queene Gaia or Queene, I mean, Chieftan Naomh of the Wild. Because of this, you’ll want a level playing field, which means one more leader for your army. Will it be Turtegiel? Or maybe Kilyanox? Or perhaps Beltryd?”
“Chryseis is gathering three armies to help her.” Azanigin corrected, smirking at the shocked look she received. “Chryseis wants Purla, Naomh, and Beltryd on her side. Of course Purla will join, she just wants peace and probably thinks that after this war there will be peace. Naomh will join. She adores the spilling of blood. And Beltryd will want the riches, so she’ll probably join as well. Of course, this is just a guess.”
‘Of course.” Zephrya muttered in agreement.
“I am going to…… Request that Kilyanox and Turtegiel join us. Me.”
Azanigin smiled slightly. “I am sure they will.”
“As am I.”
Once more, silence overtook the two women.
“You needn’t say that You’ll join immediately, Zephrya Akal Te Bono Sisbtat.” Azanigin assured her. Crossing her legs, the demon Queene added slyly, “In fact, I’d be rather surprised if you did.”
“And why is that, Mother Demon? Because, from what I can tell, you seem to think this war will go only one way. With you winning. And if so, why fight so hard to have me join, just to have to actually give me some of the land and the gold?”
“This will end with me winning.” Azanigin answered, a sly grin on her face. “And I say ‘you needn’t join immediately,’ not ‘you needn’t join,’ because whether you like it or not, the future proclaims that you will be on my side. There is no need for you to lose this war, Zephrya Akal Te Bono Sisbtat. In fact, I’m not giving you a choice of losing.”
“How generous.” Zephrya put as much acid and sarcasm into her voice as possible, sneering at the other Queene through the words.
This had no effect on Azanigin. In fact, she leaned foreward, and, her face right in front of Zephrya’s, murmured, “I am so glad you see it my way. Welcome to my army.”
The other hissed in response.
Leaning away for a moment, Azanigin added gently, her voice rather soft and sweet for being pure evil, “A gift for you.” Before kissing Zephrya briefly.
Coughing, Zephrya collapsed, feeling much like the vines of the Corku2 plant were climbing down her throat. “Y.. Yo…” She struggled to say something accusing, even as the woman seemed to fade.
“Goodbye, darling.” Azanigin sang before vanishing, her voice full of mirth.
There were rarely slaves in the dry floor, and so Zephrya wasn’t surprised to wake up on the floor where she’d collapsed, instead of in her bed on the water floor. Groaning, she sat up, relieved to feel nothing in her throat anymore. Azanigin was still gone. Letting out a breath she hadn’t meant to be holding, Zephrya went to stand, only to collaspe again, with a silent scream.
Her body convulsed, rolling and arching. She released a stream of unhealthy, human curses before laying limply on the ground for a few breathless moments. “You couldn’t wait, could you?” She panted.
Her tentacles twisted and arched and straightened themselves out before loosening. Zephrya grimaced. This wouldn’t be her first time delivering without any other help, but the last one had gone disastrously. Oh well. She thought breathlessly.
She dug her fingers into her stomach, feeling the bulged flesh beneath her black dress. “Alright.” She panted. “I can’t give birth to you the normal way. But, I think I can…. Now, I know I have to….”
This is going to hurt.
Her long nails tore the dress open, revealing her stomach. Breathing deeply and calmly for a few, agonizing moments, Zephrya bared her nails, and pierced the lump of womb and child that rested on her body like a little mountain. The pain rushed like waves against her, but she ignored it, grappling her nails into her flesh, digging deeper and deeper, until she felt the slickness that was the womb. Grimacing, she slowly tore her red, bloody flesh away from the womb, before piercing that was well. Her hand reached deep into her, and came out, coated in blood and holding a crying child. She lay still for a moment, before her own scream joined her child’s.
Their screams pierced the entire ocean.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Nov 13, 2009 4:00 pm
Chapter Four
Chryseis and Azanigin went to collect all the people they could for their world covering war. Now, Chryseis made up her army of Purla’s people, Beltryd’s people, and Naomh the Wild’s people. Azanigin made up her army of Zephrya’s people, Turtiegel’s people, and Kilyanox’s people. They both strove to collect the final piece of the puzzle, the one Queene who had yet to agree to join one side.
This is Gaia of the humans. Gaia is the Goddess who created Celterica reincarnated. Afer the goddess fell in a battle against the god of souls, her children put her spirit into the body of a stillborn baby. Gaia.
Gaia rules in what is said to be an old Dwarven kingdom. It is built into the side of a stone mountain, much like the Draconic Peak Mountains. However, Gaia’s people don’t live in caves. They actually built an entire city inside of the mountain. Her people actually just finished working on the place, which is rather surprising, if you look at it. You see, they were being attacked by renegade demons, and so they moved into a more secure fortress.
Gaia is beautiful in a strange way. She has darker skin from the sun always beating into her face, and a body made of muscle. She wears her shoulder blade length, black-brown hair in dreadlocks, pulled back as far from her face as humanly possible. Her eyes are the same, strnage, black-brown color as her hair. Usually she wears a simple tunic, sandles, and short bottoms, much like her people do. Gaia doesn’t consider herself to be any better then her subjects.
Come, you will see her meeting with the two war leaders.
I walked through the long, acid green grass that brushed against my waist. Reaching one of my hands down, I grabbed one of the long stalks and paused in my walking to take a small, tentative bite. Immediately, I spat the strange stuff out. It was as acidic tasting as it looked. Grumpily, I tossed the stalk of grass into it’s fellows and continued on.
Behind me were tall and huge trees, each one looking to take up a few miles in length and size. The bark was a deep limestone color, and the leaves and pine needles were a marvelously strange, almost sickening dandelion color. It made vomit creep up my throat, just from looking at it.
Yet one thing I couldn’t understand was how I was looking at it. I was walking the opposite direction, was not I? I knew the answer as soon as I had mentally asked myself. Yes, you are. I thought to myself. Well, that was odd.
As I reached the top of the acid green hill, I looked down upon a large lake in the center of all this green. The lake was as pink as my handmaiden and enemy, Lora’s hair. Once again, vomit filled my throat. I pushed it down as curiosity filled me. Floating above the bright pink lake was a large, almond colored bubble. The green of the bubble mixing with the green of the grass made me grimace.
Quite suddenly, I feeling of nervousness and anxiousness filled me. I immediately suppressed, and tried to hide my emotions from the people around me. However, upon a sweeping of my gaze, I realized I was the only one in this strange land. So, I was trying to hide my emotions from myself? I snorted, wishing myself the best of luck with that one.
Still, if I was in this strange land all by myself, I had a few questions. Each one was like an arrow leaving the bow. Arrow one: Where was this place? Arrow two: Where was everyone I knew, and everyone I did not? The questions flew until my imaginary quiver was either rout of arrows, or the string on my imaginary bow broke. I was not sure which one happened, and decided on both.
I had one last question, and said it aloud, as if hoping to get an answer. “Why does this land look like a group of giggling children went at it with their paint and paintbrushes?” After a few moments, I decided that any hope of getting an answer should flee. It did so, but only after I cracked my imaginary whip at it. As the last bit vanished, I dropped my imaginary whip and waved, saying, ‘Goodbye, hope!’
“Okay, I am officially going completely insane.” I grumbled to myself, kicking a conviently placed rock. It went flying, and I sighed, closing my eyes. Something smacked me in the back of the head, hard, and I went sprawling.
Of course, it was just my luck that I went sprawling right off the hill I had been standing on. Rolling through the grass, my strange mind registered nothing but relief that there were, so far, no rocks in this fall. To my utter disgust, I rolled and rolled until I rolled straight into the lake, and only stopped rolling when I reached the very center of the bottom of the lake.
Bubbles slowly left my mouth, surprisingly white in the pink water. I pushed off of the bottom, and swam for the surface, mentally thanking Suko for her amazing swim lessons I received once I could walk.
Surfacing, I left out a deep breath I’d been holding, before sucking in a few more. The sky, to my amazement, had turned a bright, almost blinding purple, with yellow clouds and a pure white sun.
The water was, to my relief, holding me up perfectly, as I turned my head to te side and stared up at the sky for a long moment. “What in the name of the abyss if going on here?” I finally exclaimed.
As if in answer, the bubble above me suddenly opened up, and a large, ethereal hand came down to scoop me up. Deciding it was beste not to fight, I allowed myself to be lifted like a rag doll, and placed inside of the bubble. The hole behind me closed up, making escape futile and impossible. Life in this land was getting better and better.
The bubble felt as if I was walking across curdled milk, and as I staggered towards a strange, stone plate that seemed to be the only solid thign in this bubble, I absently wondered what, in the name of the abyss, Lora had put into my food last night. As I made a mental oath to never let her cook again, I reached the stone and sat on it, relief tinging my breathes.
My fingers trailed across the bits of stone I wasn’t sitting on, and I was surprised to feel words engraved in the stone with my fingers. Carefully standing up, I turned and read the words slowly. “Chryseis of the Faeries, leader of the Army of the Sun, Queene of the Faerie Flights.” Raising and eyebrow, I took my fingers off of the stone.
And the bubble shattered. As I fell, wide eyed but not screming, I watched in horror as the grass melted into black, and the sky fell around me. The lake, just before I reached it, split into two, and I fell into the darkness.
Waking up, panting and looking confused, Gaia sat up in her bed and rubbed at her eyes. After a few prolonged moments, she fell back onto the pillows before rolling the edge of her bed and sitting up. Rubbing at her eyes, Gaia wandered over to the closest window in her bedroom, and, holding one arm over her bare breasts, rested her other hand on the window sill and looked outside. The sun seemed to have just rose, and Gaia calculated the time to be around six in the morning. Yawning, she walked over to a large, inconspicuous brown trunk that sat in the corner of her bedroom, and shoved it open, yanking out her normal set of clothes and closing the trunk once more.
“That.” She said aloud as she dressed, tugging the rough clothing over her skin without so much of a flinch. “Was annoying and stupid. But what I want to know-” she yanked her dreadlocks together, and tied a strip of leather around them. “-Is why, in the name of the abyss, I dreamed of Chryseis.” Walking towards the door of her chambers, she rested her hand on it and added, “And what, Abyss tell me, is the Army of the Sun?”
Tossing the door open, she walked into the empty corridor. Most of her subjects were late risers, and so Gaia was used to having a few hours a day to herself, before the castle itself woke up. She walked into the room where meeting, dinners, and other suchs things took place, only a bit of sleep marring her steps. Gaia rotated her gaze upward, and noticed that, on one of the shelves was fresh bedthings. They looked fluffy and soft, and so Gaia mentally thanked whatever maid was awake so early, while reaching up and pulling the clean things off of the shelf and onto the ground. Setting them up, and pulling two blankets off the huge pile, Gaia lay down on the things before Pulling the two blankets over her. Snuggling deep into the warmth, the Queene closed her eyes, only to hear a sound of surprise in what seemed like only seconds later.
The maid who must have cleaned the things Gaia was using was standing there, staring at Gaia was wide eyes. Gaia stared back, narrowing her eyes slightly until the maid smiled, bowed her head and murmured a polite hello, then left. With a grumble, she rested her head back onto a large fluff of pillows, while saying to herself, “These maids have to get used to the fact that once in a while, their Queene just needs to curl up on the blankets and pillows that they just washed.”
Closing her eyes onces again, Gaia was surprised to feel a rush of air over her head. Wondering who left the doors open once again, She snuggled even deeper into the blankets. Sadly, only a few moments later, someone cleared their throat. Grunting, Gaia angrily exclaimed, “Leave me alone! Sometimes your Queene just needs a quiet moment with the freshly washed blankets and pillows, damn it!”
The person laughed, and the voice was beautiful enough to alert Gaia to the fact that this was not, as se had first thought, a disgruntled maid. Upon opening one eye, and seeing a beautiful, female faerie standing there, Gaia tensed, and inwardly smacked herself. She slowly undid herself from the blankets, before standing in front fo the woman.
“Chryseis.” Gaia murmured.
“Gaia.” The faerie Queene answered.
The both stood still for a few moments, before Gaia motioned silently at a chair. Instead, obviously being teasing, Chryseis took a few of the pillows and blankets, before meaking herself a ground seat with them. Narrowing her eyes, but following Chryseis’s example, the two Queenes soon sat across from each other. Chryseis leaned against her pillows, obviously using magic to hold them up, as she was leaning against no wall as well. Gaia was sprawled across her seat, eyes raised to look at Chryseis.
“Well? I expect you didn’t come here just to make a fool of me.”
“I am sincerely sorry, Queen Gaia, if that’s what you believe my true meaning her is. I assure you from the very bottom of my heart, that I have no reason to be cruel to you.”
“Or make a fool of me.”
“Or make a fool of you.” Chryseis affirmed.
“Good.” Relaxing slightly, Gaia’s mind strayed to her dream. Obviously, she had been warned about Chryseis’s visit. She mentally smacked herself again for being so blunt, and ignoring the message.
“Gaia, I am quite sure that your men-”
“And women.” Gaia interrupted.
At first, the Faerie queen looked angry, before she relaxed. “Of course. That your men and women warned you of two armies amassing to the west and the east.”
“Yes. An army of color to the East, an army of black to the West. So say my warriors.” Gaia answered, looking at Chrysies blandly.
“Do they know what this war is about, milday?” Chryseis asked. Gaia held back a smile, as Chryseis seemed to think she was treading on thin ice. Well, she was, but she wouldn’t be if she would just come out and say what she was going to.
“If they do, they haven’t told me.” Gaia answered. She shifted on her makeshift bed, rolling onto her back and arching her head to look at Chryseis with a blank, emotionless look. “However, if I had to guess I would say that this war is about a strange, and useless fued inbetween two countries.”
Surprise poured across Chryseis’s face, before she relaxed and gave Gaia a grave look, that seemed to fit an old woman speaking with her apprentice then it did two Queene’s speaking together. It was because of this that Gaia grinned, unashamed at her sudden amusement. It was obvious that this put Chryseis off even worse, because she gave Gaia an almost suspicious look while shifting uncomfortably.
“Do not look suspicious of my smile, Chryseis.” Rolling over and leaning on her elbows, Gaia added in a sly voice: “I only smile because of a memory from many days ago. You need not worry that you yourself are, in any way, able to be laughed at.”
To the human Queene’s surprise, this actually seemed to comforted the Faerie. “Alright. Then I may as well get to the point, Gaia. Azanigin has ruthlessly murdered our fathers and our brothers, and now hopes to act as if she is purely innocent. I know of her wrong doings, and I strive to destroy her and her followers for good. My army needs just one more friend to tip the balance, and give us the ability to win with ease. I wish for you to join my army. You will be fighting alongside Purla, Beltryd, Naomh the Wild, and my own personal army. Will you help us save Celterica?”
Yawning, Gaia sat up and gave the Faerie Queene a tired, and sympathetic look. “Chryseis, you speak of this war as if it was a good thing. Celterica has been at peace with her people for many thousands, if not millions, of years. How can we, the people who have been blessed to live on the goddess of Celterica’s blessed home, destroy her land through war and hate? And, Chryseis, how do you know that Azanigin killed all the kings and princes of the nations? She collects the spirits of the cursed dead in order to live, but none of the kings or princes were cursed. In fact, I do believe the only blood they spilled was the blood of animals, and I mean this for every kingdom. You could say it was an offering, but Azanigin would not make such a dangerous offering. Indeed, she is extremely smart, and would never make such a move. Besides, an doffering for what? If she follows any of the gods and goddesses - which I highly doubt she does, - then it would most certaintly be the teachings of the god of evil, who, like she odes, lives off of the cursed. It would make so much sense for her to kill the innocent for no reason.
“Celterica has done nothing to deserve such a war as this one, Chryseis. Destroying her land because of a simple fued that is based off of nothing but the legends used to scare children into staying near their mother’s breast? I’m quite sure that you will anger the gods and goddesses for such a silly reason. Besides, the gods and goddesses are my people, Chryseis. I am a goddess reincarnated. I cannot go against the teachings of the ones who birthed and nurtured me, for something as silly as this.”
There was a peculiar silence between the two. Chryseis stood, the blanket that had been across her lap falling to the ground. Her wings fluttered in a most agitated manner, making Gaia raise an eyebrow. The faerie queen walked, - no, glided, - over to the narrowest window across the room for Gaia. Her dress and feet made no sound against the ground as Chryseis stopped before the window, setting her pink skinned hands on the rough stone window sill. She raised one hand and silently shoved the lattice like window covers open, before resting that hand beside it’s sibling. The cold morning wind moved not a golden lock of hair out of place, even though the strong gusts reached Gaia, brushing at her hair.
“You don’t understand any of this, do you Gaia?” She finally asked, amazingly calm and quiet, despite the fact that Gaia had done her best to put the other Queene down in her speech. “You are so young, innocent. You cannot honestly say that this war is wrong. And yes, Gaia, I know that you are the goddess of Celterica reincarnated, but that doesn’t mean you are as wise as her.”
“I am the most knowledgeable person in my land, let alone most of the other kingdoms.” Gaia answered shortly. “You shouldn’t call me innocent or young, or even say that I am not wise. I am old in spirit and mind, cursed in heart, and wise in life.”
“Knowledge is not the same as wisdom. The man who knows everything is wise only by taking the wisdom of others and saying it for himself. The man who knows nothing is wise by saying what only he knows, which is the secrets locked deep inside of his heart.” Turning, her hands still on the window sill, Chryseis narrowed her eyes at the other Queene. “You are not wise. Not as wise as many. You may be ‘old in spirit,’ but age means nothing. And you are not cursed in heart, Gaia. Your heart burns as golden as my hair or my flight does.”
“I assure you with as much heart as I can, Chryseis, that flattery will not make me your friend, your ally, or even part of your army. My people are peaceful, and we will stay that way. I no manner will we betray our mothers, fathers, brothers or sisters. If you must cointue with this war, then I suggest you go off to the fools you have manipulated into helping you, otherwise they might think that you abandoned them if you wait to long.”
“I am sorrowful that you think in such ways, Gaia. My army is not hurting the world, or the gods and goddesses that watch over it. We are helping it, saving it. We are the heroes, as we purge the world of the demons and devils that inhabit it. I pray that you see this in time, I do not want to find out that the goddess of Ceterica was transformed into something lesser then she is because she joined with the demons of this land.” Chryseis added a sneer to these words, the first, and last time Gaia would ever see anything but kindness from the strange, yet beautiful, Faerie.
“Your pursuit in this goal is becoming more fanatic then anything, Chryseis. I would not join your cult, nor Azanigin’s, at any time in my life, or the life of my children, and their children afterwards.” Gaia smiled strangely and stepped forward before adding quietly, “Continue your fanatic war if you must, Chryseis of the Faerie flights. However, I give you something to ponder.” Pausing, Gaia looked up and smiled at the gentle face of the faerie woman. “The gods and goddesses of Celterica will rise up against you and Azanigin, Chryseis. This war is their enemy, and they have much more power then both of you. Your deaths will come quickly if you cotinue in this manner.”
Stiffly, Chryseis gave a nod before she vanished in a rush of golden colored dust and wind. A smiling Gaia was left in the empty room, who turned to watch as the pillows Chryseis had held up with magic tumbled to the ground, all at once in perfect harmony. There were eight of them, and a ninth quickly followed. Gaia twitched slightly at this. “A sign?” She wondered to herself, looking at the pillows anxiously. Once a maid entered, however, she covered the look with a smile, before quickly leaving, to consult her own thoughts.
I was, dreaming once more, to my utter helplessness. However, the world was not a shiny beautiful (in some people’s view, it was disgusting to me,) place. Instead of bright colors, this world was dark, with no happy shapes. Also, thought it took me quite a few moments to realize this, I was near a house, not a lake. At first, I felt a rush of relief, - no pink or orange or strange limestone trees. This was my kind of world. Of course, after my eyes trialed across the land and I actually took in my surroundings, I realized how wrong I was.
I was walking across uneven, bumpy ground that seemed to wriggle and squirm underneath my feet. It, - the strange ground, that is, - was made of matted down, dead or dying grass, which was colored a strange brown, through it could be called a grey or a black. The grass seemed more like matted down fur, as not one stalk was sticking up proudly. It was sullen, sad. So was I.
All fo the trees around the edges of the grounds of this house were a strange style as well. They were twisted into knot like shapes, thought some seemed to be split apart, or even growing through another tree. The bark was a acidic color of brown, and the dead, drooping leaves with a somber, coal like black. On a few trees, black and brown fruits hung. They were obviously rotted and dead.
As for the house itself, it was made of dark grey stone blocks, each cut differently and uniquely. The windows had a blackish, ivory like lattic covering the black window glass. On each of the four towers were rotted, hanging falgs. They mave had said or had a picture on them once, but if there had been, it was gone now. Only sad tatters remained. I couldn’t help but shake my head.
After a moment, I looked at my body and was surprised to see that I was dressed for the scenery. The last dream had allowed me to keep my clothing, but in this one I was dressed like the people who owned this house would probably dress their daughter. A thick, woolen black derss covered most of my body. It was a turtleneck dress with long, tight sleeves and the skirt that brushed across the ground with each step. I will admit that the dress itself was beautifully, if not dully colored - black, brown and grey like the land around here. I wore black shoes that were painfully tight, and must have held me two feet above the ground. To my upmost surprise, my hair was long and thickly brown, just like it had been before getting my ceremonial ‘warrior braids.’
Something pricked my skin. Not hard enough to break the skin, but enough to hurt slightly, like a pinprick. I looked, and was surprised to see that in my left hand was a punch of roses. They were black, brown, and grey, with thorns covering the stalks. There wre no leaves. Memories from my ‘lady’ training came flooding back, as if the roses had broken the dam that had held such memories back and away. I had been taught the meanings of roses. I raised the roses, and murmured the meanings.
“Black. Loss, farewell, sorrow, and death. Brown. Neutrality, wiseness, knowledge. Grey. War, brokenness, loss of hope.”
Considering this world and everything that was in it, I would not have said I was surprised in anyway at what the flowers meant. In my other hand, - the right one, - I carried an unlit lantern. It was gothic styled, with curving black iron demons and butterflies. The strange mix of designs unnerved me.
My feet guided me across the grass, and I was disappointed to find that, no matter how many times I squirmed or tried to break free, My body continued towards the back of the house. After a few useless moments of straining against my body, I finally gave up and lay limply inside of myself. Fake me continued walking, seemingly oblivious to the struggles going on inside of her mind.
Once we reached the back of the house, I noted that there was some new scenery. Roses that were colored just like the ones in my hand, - black, grey, and brown, - were growing in thick patches all across the yards and against the walls of the house. In the very center of the back courtyard was what appeared to be four skinny trees that had grown together, now one large, twisted tree. In a strange way, it was beautiful.
My body walked up to the tree, and moved to stand with it in front of me, and the house behind me. My body kneeled down, and fake me set the lantern on the ground before brushing her now empty hand across the wood. The bark felt strangely like human skin, and it seemed to squirm and move underneath our fingers. Desperately, I tried to regain control of my body, in order to move away from the strange tree. Fake me refused, and this time she consciously took hold of me and shoved me back into the darkest reccesses of my mind.
Deep within that inky blackness, I despaired. It seemed that my fate was to be forever trapped in the parts of my mind that were useless. Absently, I wondered many things. The imaginary bow and quiver from my last dream came back, and I absently knocked an arrow. When was my body taken over? I knocked another arrow. Who was controlling me? How had I not realized it sooner? More importantly, where were we, and what was she planning to do to me and my body? With a grimace, I tossed the empty quiver and broken bow off to the side. I wasn’t going to get answers, that was blatenly obvious. I sat down in the blackness with a huff, crossing my arms.
I cannot say how long I stayed there, all I know was suddenly there was a haunting melody coming from the outside world. It was beautiful, in an eery manner. The song broughy tears to my eyes, or would have, had I been on control of my body. Wanting to hear the song better, but not wanting to be hurt by the body theif, I crept forwad cautiously. She accepted me into the part of our mind she controlled, her arms open. I was surprised, but I obediently came up to her. As I listened to the music, I searched for the source. It took me many moment to realize that the music was coming from the tree itself, making me rear back in surprise. She mentally caught me, steadying me and stopping me from falling into the blackness. I was wary of her sudden and confusing kindness.
She tapped inbetween my eyes, before motioning out at the outside world. Look. I understood her message, and turned to look at the outside world in order to prove that. She reached out and raised a lock of her hair, my hair, up to our eyes. I was surprised to see that it was black, not brown. The hand itself was a milky white, not a darker tan like mine. I tensed. There were only two reasonable explanations that I could come up with. One was that when I was inside of my mind, she had somehow changed my hair an dmy skin colors in order to frighten and intimadate me. Plausible, I immediately decided. The second idea was that I had somehow accedientaly entered someone else’s mind, and she was fighting me off, instead of my trying to overcome her from being in my body. That, to, was plausible, no matter how much I wanted it not to be.
I could sense her amusement, and I snarled at her. Receiving no response but more amusement, I irritably headed back for the darkness. To my surprise, she reached over and grabbed my arm, dragging me back into the lighter side of our mind. Stop it. Her thoughts rang through the area. Despite my best hopes to appear dignified and proud, I pouted and crossed my arms instead. Very dignified.
She motioned at the outside world again, and so, despite my best hopes to not look outside, I did anway. She raised her left hand. I stared. The hand had no flesh or veins or anything like that. It was pure bone. The white gleaming bones twitched, and she dragged her middle fongers just ove rher eyes before setting her hand down. “What in the name of the abyss was that?” I exclaimed.
The tree shook. I looked at it immediately, and was surprised to see that the tree was opening. It stopped, the creaking sounds fading. Something was shoved forward from the inside of the tree, and fileld the black hole that had been there. It was a black framed mirror, which she leaned towards.
Her face was pale like bone, white white lips and long black hair. She wore a white, feathlike headress, and a blood red pendant hung from her neck. Her eyes, however, her gone. There were two black hole were her eyes should have been. As I watched, she raised her left hand against and slid her fingerse into first her left eye socket, then her right. Blood began to trickle down her pale skin, even as she raised her bloody bone hand and wrote slowly and the mirror.
Azanigin. Leader of the Army of the Moon. Queene and Mother of the Demon folk.
I released a scream.
When Gaia awoke, covered in sweat and shaking for the second morning, she was not all that surprised to find herself in her bed. She heaved a sigh, and stood up, walking to the window a peek her head out, much like last time. She grimaced. It must have been only two or even one in the morning. She walked over to her bed, and lay down on the warm blankets, not bother to move one and cover her nakedness.
“This time,” she said aloud to herself, “I know what the dream was about, and I can prepare myself for her visit.”
Draping one of the other blankets ove rher body, Gaia set her pillows up against the headboard and leaned against them. The rough underside of her blankets, and the smooth and silkly top of them help Gaia calm her heart and breathing down. She was no longer in the strange world the gods and goddesses had sent her to, she was in her bed, having just woken up from sleeping. She closed her eyes for a brief moment, before covering her closed eyes with her hands and releasing a shaky breath. With that breath, it seemed all of her fear trailed out of her body. Slowly, her hands fround the blanket again, and her eyes opened just as slowly.
Rolling her head around, Gaia smiled at the satisfying popping sound that soon came. She arched her head back, only to freeze as if bitten by a paralyzing snake. Azanigin sat on the top of her headboard, smiling down at her. Un arching her head and scrambling out of her bed, Gaia replaced dignity with survival, as she abandoned the blanekts in order to grab the sword she had hanging on her wall. Spinning around to face the demon mother and Queene, Gaia settled into a battle stance, her eyes sharply focused on her target. Azanigin, the target, cackled and jumped off of the head board, landing lightly on the floor just before the foot of her bed.
“Gaia Solony Kutkat Gata. So good to finally meet you. I trust that you are ruling you people as if they were your rulers, not the other way around?” Azanigin gave her a mocking bow as she spoke.
“Leave my chambers. You have no right coming her and interrupting my sleep.” Gaia hissed, feeling amazingly numb to fear and any of those other silly emotions. She was faced with what seemed like a strong danger, and was glad that her body was reacting properly to the danger.
“Of course I have no right.” Azanigin’s epression changed from haughty to extremely angry. “But Chryseis, your ruler, your general, your Queene does, doesn’t she? Oh yes, she’s allowed to burst in whenever she wants. I can feel it!” Her voice rose with each word, until she was shrieking at the other Queene. Her ahnds clenched, and she stalked towards Gaia, until they were only inches apart, Gaia’s sword against Azanigin’s stomach.
“Chryseis? My Queene? I must admit that for a thousands of years old demon, you are extremely unwise, and extremely unknowledgeable.” Gaia lowered the sword slightly, but kept it high enough to still hurt Azanigin if she did one thing Gaia did not take as non-threatening. “She came here yesterday, asking me to join her army. I refused, and she elft in quite a hurry after realizing that I was completely serious, and not a pushover like the others who are helping her.”
Azanigin looked surprised at first. She then gave Gaia a wicked smile, and took two very long steps away from her. “I must apologize, then. I believed, at first, that you were with her army, against me. It was silly for me to have made my judgement before asking, but I thought that if you were in the army, you would not have told me that you were, and so it was best for me to just guess you were.”
“Well, you have succeeded in making me extremely angry, and making yourself look like an idiot. Congratulations, demon mother and Queene.” Gaia snapped in response, setting the sword down and throwing her chest open. She pulled out her normal clothing and yanked on the top first, before sliding the bottoms on as well, eyes on Azanigin the entire time. “Now, Azanigin, did you have any other reason to burst into my room other then accusing me, and then, fi I agreed that your accusation was right, killing me?”
“Actually, yes.” Azanigin answered honestly. “You see, thought I did not expect it to truly happen, I thought that there was a small chance that you would disagree with my accusation. Because of this, I was hoping that I could get you to join me instead, before you join that fool Chryseis. Her entire army will be destroyed. I had hoped to save her followers, but it would appear that she has already brainwashed them beyond saving.”
“You mean Purla, Naomh the Wild and Beltryd?” Gaia had heard the names from Chryseis during their meeting a night ago. She was proud that she knew who each Queene was, and what place they ruled over. “The dragon Queene, Barbarian Queene, and Thief Queene?” She closed the trunk and sat on it, before leaning over and grabbing her sword again.
“Yes. You are very smart, Gaia Solony Kutkat Gata.” Azanigin sat in front of Gaia, hovering in the air with a smile. “They are being mislead by the Faerie Queene. I hope not to kill them during the battle, but to kill their controller, and in that way, free them. Thought I may need to kill them anyway, if they have been to corrupted.” Azanigin looked sorrowful. It made Gaia want to laugh. She knew the demon mother and Queene felt nothing for the other Queenes. She was, as Azanigin herself had praised, very smart. Or, she was at least smart enough to tell when someone was acting, or lying, in order to try and win her to their side.
“Chryseis does not seem like the type to corrupt or brainwash people.” Gaia observed, reaching up above her head and sliding the sword into it’s sheath once more. A clanking sound filled the otherwise silent room, as the sheath collapsed back against the wall. “In fact, she seems to be winning her follwoers because they believe in what she says. They find her and her manner and words, ‘agreeable.’ You, on the other hand, seem to play upon people’s weaknesses in order to get them to join you. Azanigin, your army does not you out of love. Nor does it follow you our of friendship, loyalty, or because they care for you in some way. No, they follow you because they either owe you something, or you promised them riches or land of slaves. Ah, or, because you brainwashed and corrupted them. Am I correct, Azanigin?”
Cackling, Azanigin shifted forward in her floating seat, until she was as close to the other Queene as she could without falling off of the invisible chair. “You walk a dangerous road, Gaia Solony Kutkat Gata. I would not suggest playing with my feelings and my pride anymore, or you may regret it in the worse manner possible.” Despite the grin on Azanigin’s face, which was in no way pleasant, she had the unmistakable gleam of rage and hatred in her empty eye sockets. Her smile became more feral, making Gaia regret sheathing her sword. There would be no way to reach it in time.
“I do not play upon my allies weaknesses, Gaia Solony Kutkat Gata. I offer them something that Chryseis would simply stop them from having. I give them what they want. No, what they need, and in return, they follow me to victory. I do not force people into my army because they owe me something. No, no, no. Those people join me because they see the riches and the land, and yes, the alves that they’ll gain, and they see a way to get me into their debt. And how could you say that I corrupt? That I control and brainwash? You must know that I am not that way, Gaia Solony Kutkat Gata. Ask any of my followers.”
“Azanigin, all you did was restate my facts in a whole new way. You are a player on weaknesses, a controller, brainwasher, and corrupter. I remember when Turtegiel was a beautiful, happy girl. We would hunt together, and speak for long hours. Now, look at her and her kingdom. Look at it all! Fallen into ruin, her people ghosts in the land, rarely if ever seen. Her herself wasting away yet never quite dying. All of this because of the deathes of her family, and then being forced into war. You do not help, you destroy.” Gaia stood. She felt the power of the gods and godesses rushing against her. It did not quite entire her, instead it surrounded her in a cloudly mist that only she could see, touch, and taste.
“I will not join your army, Azanigin. I will not join Chryseis’s army. I will stand against both armies when the time comes, and will gladly see you both fall. The gods and goddesses have marked you and Chryseis’s visits, Azanigin! They have judged you and her, and deemed you both unworthy of Celterica, unworthy of power, and unworthy of life. Go, go to your foolish pursuits. But do not forget that the mark of death has been painted on your forehead in their blood, Azanigin. You are damned in the worst way!”
Azanigin stood as well, shaking from either fear or rage. Gaia could not quite tell. “I gave you a chance to give your people life in the best way. To make you a ruler of all of Ceterica! And you foolishly refuse. Your people are the ones that shall die, Gaia Solony Kutkat Gata! After the battle against Chryseis, we shall march and destroy you. Do not forget!” She shimmered, much like Chryseis did upon her leaving, and Gaia was once more alone in her bedroom.
Silently standing, undressing, and walking over to her bed, Gaia curled up amongst the sheets and murmured aloud, incase Azanigin was still watching, “You look like an idiot when you say my entire name.”
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Nov 13, 2009 4:04 pm
Chapter Five
War. For years, war has been a problem, and will always be so, if I am correct. It is a part of life that could have been avoided. However, because of some of the gods and goddess’ violent tendencies, humanoids were given a brutal, war like side that they find easier to embrace then a peaceful one. Of course, if you ask me, both sides of the mind are wrong. One should not be to peaceful, nor should one by to war like. A person can sometimes find the perfect balance. If they do, that balance will make them one of the greatest people in the world. Your Martin Luther King Jr. is one of those people. So is Joan of Arc, the Freedom Riders, and the Freedom Writers. Just to name a few.
Of course, very few people had this balance in Celterica. Gaia was one of the few, if not the only. Turtegiel was once one of them, thought she lost that title after falling into sadness, and being sucked into the war. The same goes for Naomh the Wild. And though tit hurts me to say so, I myself lost that title for a very long time, which therefore sent me into my hibernation. You will soon see why, I reckon.
We shall skip ahead to the war. During the final days of November, two armies amassed. The one to the east, which was the Army of the Sun. The one to the west was the Army of the Moon. Chryseis and Azanigin. Gaia pulled together her people and marched to the north in order to watch, and if, they could, stop the war. It was during the high point of the sun that the war itself began.
Chryseis stood in her tent, the gold, blue, and silver fabric opening at the very top to allow rays of the sun to land upon Chryseis’s map. She sat, choosing the very head of the table her map rested on as her sitting place. Naomh thw Wild chose the left side, Purle the right, and Beltryd sat at the other head of the table, looking disturbingly cheery despite the bloodshed that would soon happen.
“What’s the plan, War Master Chryseis?” Beltryd asked lightly. “Sweep N’ kill? Or are we gonna be all sneaky like?”
Chryseis looked at her other allies. They all had one eye on her, and one eye on the map. Or so it seemed to her tired eyes. Kneeling, as to be slightly higher then the others, Chryseis twisted her left wrist once, and a small gold sprite appeared, twisting around her head once before flying to the map.
The map itself was fresh, the ink having just dried. Her best map makers had traveled across the battle land, before flying back and making her the map. It was detailed with the best places to strike, and some notes that Chryseis herself had written. In the left corner was a little compass with the four directions, north, east, south, and west marked. This was obviously in Beltryd’s quick handwriting.
“Our army is divided into four forces.” Chryseis started. “And each force has a special part. To start with will be the ground force. Naomh will have her main forces here, in order to stop the other army in it’s tracks and keep it still. My fae will circle around and attack from behind, making retreat impossible. A few Faeries that will stay here, will build up walls on either side of their forces, so that they can’t escape that way. We’ll need two warriors for each Faerie to protect them. Then, Beltryd will sneak her rouges into the army and try to eliminate Azanigin, and the others as well, if possible They’ll also try to wreak as much havoc as possible. Purla’s dragons and dragon transformers will fly above the army, doing a double pass. On the first pass, they’ll drop hot burning oil and rocks and fire and such onto the enemies. On the second pass, all of our elites fighters will drop off the of the dragons, and land in the very center of the army. This is where they’ll try to destroy the army from the inside out. Also, Purla’s warriors that can transform will be turning human and landed with the elites. I also want the dragons swooping down and grabbing the most deadly enemies in order to kill them. Our magic wings should hold out the entire battle.”
The sprite of light had been acting out what should happen, and so Chryseis leaned over to grab it as soon as she had finished speaking. It vanished in a puff of smoke. “Any questions? Comments?”
“I see no fault in the way that this should go.” Purla observed.
“This battle is long overdue. The plan means nothing to me, only to spilling of blood.” Naomh the Wild scowled, before adding quietly, “But I will still follow it, for hopes that we finish this battle even quicker.”
Tapping absently at the ram like horns growing out of her head, Beltryd said, “I’ll have a few of my thieves stay to protect your Faeries as well. As we can hide, there’s a chance that the warrior who actually manage to break through our forces will just charge for the Faeries, not look for us like smart people would.”
“Then we are agreed.” Chryseis murmured. A surge of emotions ran through her, and she would have fallen if she had not been already sitting. For thousands of years her people had been fighting off the evil of Azanigin. Now, after she went to far and killed of the ony true family Chryseis had, the Faerie folk would finally get revenge. Chryseis’s throat closed up, and she motioned for her allies to leave and prepare their troops. On the way out, Purla gave Chryseis a sympathetic look. I know how you feel. Was all the look said.
Azanigin smiled and nodded to Zephrya, as the half octopus woman slithered into the demon Queene’s tent. Behind Zephrya was Kilyanox, her hair sticking almost straight up, and impressively defying gravity. Turtegiel came in last, the completely different one in the entire group. While the others wore black, with a little bit or no white, Turtegiel was white haired, skinned, and wearing a white and gold dress.
The three women sat in the only empty chairs Azanigin had in her tent. She waited patiently until they were all seated before raising one hand for silence, even though no sound was leaving them already. “This is the plan.”
The tent shimmered, and they were suddenly hovering over the battle area. They could see Chryseis’s army, looking like ants, swarming and shifting underneath and to the right of them. Underneath and to the left of them was Azanigin’s army, impressively still in comparison. “We will have an interesting style of attack. Zephrya’s people, being water dwelleres better then land dwellers, have a special job. You will send them into the underground water tunnels and rivers underneath Chryseis’s army, where they will cause the ground her army walks upon to fall apart, sending warriors down the rivers. Then, they’ll make two hole that are impossible to see from up above, but are big enough for demons and elves and such to climb through. This must be near the back of the army. Chryseis will have two or so Faeries that will be trying to keep huge stone walls up around us, so we can’t retreat.
“Next, I want Kilyanox’s best neromancers to do me a little favor. They must create an everlasting night around this battle field, that will only effect Chryseis’s army. They will be blind, and we will not be. Turtgeiel’s elves will make up the brute force of our army. The best of her warriors will follow Zephrya’s people to the Faeries, and, hopefully, the leaders of Chryseis’s army. The same goes with Kilyanox’s best, my best, and Zephrya’s best. The rest of our warriors that don’t have anything important to do will make up our army as well. Am I understood?”
“Yes.” Turtegiel answered quietly, as she watched the scenes Azanigin had described lay out underneath them. As Azanigin stared at her, she realized that the white and gold dress was more of a torn grey and faded yellow. Suddenly, Turtegiel fit in with the entire group much, much better.
“Of course you are, demon Mother and Queene.” Zephrya answered, her voice mingled with surprise and pride at being given one of the more important jobs. She tugged at her black and white striped gloves before smoothing her dress and nodding slightly at Azanigin.
“Yes, cousin, you are understood.” Kilyanox agreed. Her derss was perfectly straight, yet she tugged at it anyway. Azanigin felt amused at being called cousin. They were related, yes, but in all reality, Kilyanox was closer to the enemy then she was the ally. Kilyanox’s people, the people of the moon and night, are pola roppisites of the Faeries, the people of day and the sun. Because of this, the Gods and Goddesses made the two races closer then any other. They were siblings. It was because of this that Azanigin felt the need to keep a close eye on her cousin.
“Good. Then this meeting is at a close. Go and warn your people, the war will start today.” They reappeared in Azanigin’s tent. The other three stood, bowed, and left in perfect syncronisation. Azanigin was amused by this, it seemed she’d molded even her own allie, other Queenes, into being the same as everyone else. The same as each other.
As Azanigin was left alone in her tent, a ball of emotion struck her. This war, in all it’s glory, was soon to come. Her people had been striving to eliminate the true evil in the world, the Faerie Flights, since the beginning of Celterica itself. The Mothers and Queenes before Azanigin had strove and died for this cause, passing the dream, the hope, over to their firstborn daughter, so that she could try to continue the dream, hoping that soon the evil would leave their land. And now, the thirty first Queene and Mother would soon complete that dream. She was power. Azanigin laughed.
Gaia raised her eyes from the parchment her quill was hovering above, as Shishmat entered the tent, his gaze respectful, with just a touch of humility. Resting her quill in the ink bottle before it could drip on her parchment, Gaia stood and moved to the froun of her table, before clasping her hands against her chest and bowing to Shishmat. He clasped his hands against his forehead and bowed. They both took a step forward.
“Hello, Shishmat.” She greeted. “What brings you to my tent?”
His lips quirked up at the tent question, - usually she asked what brought him to her room or her bed.
“I confess, my Queene, I have begun to think, and wonder. And the more I think and the more I wonder, the more I begin to doubt your deicison to come to this battle. I have become faithless, without wishing to. Shall you punish me for being so?” He asked quietly, his head bowed.
“You are right to think, Shishmat. You are right to think, to wonder, and to doubt. Gods and Goddesses that are unquestioned are not Gods or Godesses at all, but cult leaders. This is not a cult.” Gaia answered, sitting on the ground, and motioning for Shishmat to do so as well. She waited until he was seated before continuing. “You say you are faithless, but just admitting to this makes your faith stronger then you can expect. The Gods and Goddesses respect you and your questions, I am sure. What do you wonder?”
Shishmat sighed softly, relief clear in the single breath of air. The emotion lingered in his voice as he spoke. “Why are we here? What shall we do here? Why must this war go on? Why aren’t we stopping it… why aren’t the gods and goddesses stopping it?” His voice grew quieter and quieter, until Gaia had to strain to hear the last question.
“We are here because I was commanded to bring our warriors here. We shall watch, record, and stop this war if we can. This war must go on…” Gaia hesitated, before striving on. “This war must go on because Azanigin and Chryseis are blind to the evil this war brings, and so they cotinue it. The others, Purl, Beltryd, Naomh, Turtegiel, Zephrya and Kilyanox are just as blind. And we are stopping it, Shishmat. We will stop it. With the help of the Gods and Goddesses.”
“How can you be so sure?” He asked, helplessness tinging his voice. “I have watched and heard and felt them for as long as you have, longer, perhaps. And yet you act as though you yourself know and feel what they feel. Gaia, the world is not set in stone. In just one moment, Chryseis or Azanigin could die. They could surrender, they could flee! And yet you act like this will not happen, cannot happen…”
“It will not happen, Shishmat. I swear to you on my life, on your life, on his life. Those things will not happen. We will stop this, and we shall save Celterica, just as it has been said throughout our people for centuries. Remember this, if anything, in a time of need. Azanigin and Chryseis are powerful, yes. They have help, large armies, yes. But the gods and goddesses? No. We will be able to stop this with the gods and goddesses, and only because of them. Do not be frightened. Please.” Gaia’s voice grew a little desperate at the end. Shaking her head, she hid the emotion, and all of it’s fellows behind a cool mask. “I must request that you prepare our warriors now, Shishmat. The smell of blood is on the air, a sure shign that the battle will start soon.”
“Shall I give them a message from you, my Queene?” He answered respectfully, standing and clasping his hands behind his back.
“A message?” Gaia hesitated. “Yes.” She finally decided. “Tell them to breath in the scent of battle and be refreshed, tell them that they will all see their families later tomorrow. Tell them not to be afraid.” She stood as well.
He clasped his hands against his forehead and bowed again. She clasped her hands against his chest, in between her breasts once more, before bowing as well. They both hesitated, before he nodded and left. Gaia went around her table and sat down, moving all fo the parchment and ink before resting her head down on the now empty table, and silently began to cry.
The battle field was amazingly still and silent, despite the heavy pressure and emotion that lay like a thick fog over it. All three armies were just as silent, suppressed by the blanket they themselves had weaved. The ground was as diverse as the armies, - Grass, dirt, and water met in one area, the very center of battle. The beautiful land was soon to be destroyed by armor, blood, and bodies.
In the Army of the Sun, Chryseis was being dressed in her armour. Two female Faeries snapped brightly glowing gold armour into place on her body, form fitting and tougher then the land itself. She was handed a gold staff with a Sun Stone on both ends, and in the other hand she carried a long, golden blade. Her hair had been cut, falling around her chin now. She waited until her wings had been guided into the slits in her armour to walk out and see her army.
Purla was the first thing Chryseis saw, dress in purple armour much like hers, and wearing a pair of silver gauntlets with spikes. Fist armour. Unlike Chryseis, Purla had not cut her hair, - only pulled it onto the top of her head. She bowed respectfully before Chryseis, who gave her a nod back.
Beltryd was in simple leather armour, though there was no doubt in Chryseis’s mind that she had thin but sturdy mail underneath the leather. She had a leather band across her forehead, holding her brown hair back from revealing the ram like horns that had been previously hidden. Chryseis’s magic picked up daggers and throwing knives all over Beltryd’s body, not to mention the pike that she held firmly in her left hand.
Naomh’s clothing had barely changed. She had replaced the thick fur scarf with a metal and fur helm, which hid almost all of her face. Only her eyes had slits to see through, and there were two small holes near her nose for her to breath through. The mask was decorated with paint and feathers. She, of course, would fight with her bare hands and a thick mace.
Chryseis’s army looked up at her, and she stared back. Then, silently, she raised her hand, baring her staff for all to see. The cheers that greeted her were deafening. The army of gold, purple, white, and green jumped up and down, screaming and cheering. She silently raised the staff of her ancestors higher. This was the signel. With one more roar, her army jumped into action. This time, Chryseis screamed with them.
Azanigin reached out and grabbed her armour, the rough iron feeling strange against her bones fingers, and her flesh ones. She carefully set the piece of armour down, before removing her dress and picking it up again. She strapped it on across her chest, the leg and arm pieces quickly following. Soon, everything was on except for her weapons. She touched her white bone and feather headdress, then gripped her two blades. They were long, and with only one sharp side, serrated as well. She strapped them to her hips, testing the straps before walking out of her tent.
Zephrya greeted her first, dressed like normal, only with a staff in her hand which had a poisoned blade coming out of each end. She bowed respectfully, clasping the blade-staff before her before setting it at her side, after coming out of the bow. Azanigin bowed back, a smile on her pale face.
Her cousin, Kilyanox, wore a thick black chest piece that looked much like a corset with sleeves. The corset like amour then led into a black, chain skirt that fell around her body in a perfect shape, as if it was wone of her normal dresses. She wore a helm with slits of her eyes. The rest of her head was covered by it. It had horns, and was an icy black with a horrifying face on it, one that looked more like one of Azanigin’s most high demons then it did a human or an animal. Kilyanox had painted runes on it with her bright blue blood. In both hands she held a large, body crushing mace. The mace had runes engraved and painted onto it, the handles mad eof thick bone and the rest of black iron. Kilyanox let out a purr from behind her mask, which Azanigin gratefully returned, happy to be speaking in dark speak.
A corset made of metal and magic was Turtgeiel’s chest piece, and her bottom was a white and magic skirt. Her hair was drastically cut short, and her bow gleamed on her back, much like the daggers at her sides. She bowed, much like Zephrya had. Azanigin returned this bow as well, though there was less respect behind it. She must have noticed the lack of respect, but it gave Azanigin a thrill when she ignored it.
Azanigin looked down at her army of black, and thrust her arms into the air. Faintly, she could hear the screams from Chryseis’s army. She could do better. Titling her head back, Azanigin screamed at the top of her lungs, shaking with the force. Her men screamed back at her, pounding their feet and weapons to the ground in a heavy beat. She pounded her feet into the ground as well, and screamed along with it. Soon, everyone was following her. When she suddenly stopped, and thrust her weapons towards them, they got louder, turned, and rushed towards Chyseis’s army.
“Let the battle begin!” Azanigin screamed.
Gaia crossed her arms, the leather armour dragging against her skin, and giving the word ‘discomfort’ a whole new meaning. Calling upon the Goddess of Hunting, Gaia felt her gaze suddenly zoom in, and she could clearly see Chryseis with her staff raised to the sky, and her army screaming and cheering. She watched as Chryseis repeated the movement, screaming this time, and the army surged towards Azanigin’s. As her gaze then switch to the Army of Darkness, Gaia saw almost the exact same thing playing out. The army turned, and surged forward, meeting Chryseis’s with a bang that crashed through the valley.
Suddenly, stone walls appeared to the east and west of both armies, trapping them in a narrow valley. Around the same time, darkness overcame Gaia’s senses. She could hear her warriors cry out in shock and fear. She ignored them, and focused on the inner gods and goddesses. The Goddess of the sun came out, and destroyed the darkness, lighting up Gaia’s army. There were sighs of relief from all around her.
Turning, she signaled to Shishmat, who quickly joined her. “Queene?” He asked, confusion and wariness clear in his voice. She raised a hand to calm him down, though it obviously did little.
“Shishmat, I want you to have the sages and the shamans and druids to be alone with me for a very long time. We will need to focus for what we are going to try an do. Not even you are allowed to bother me, am I understood?” She did not want to be harsh, but it was imperative to the fate of Celterica that she was not bothered. By the look on Shishmat’s face, he clearly understood this.
“Yes, my Queene. I will have no one bother them. You. Would you like an escort to their tent?” He sounded hopeful. It broke Gaia’s hear to destroy that hope. Even so, she turned, and said in a voice of steel, “No.” Before brushing by him.
The army opened up before her, allowed her to walk through them with ease. Many tried to hide the fact that they were staring, though most just blantly gaped at her, as if she was the Goddess of Celterica, in Goddess form, walking among them. Gaia ignored these looks as best as she could, as she entered a deerskin tent, firmly closing and tying the flaps closed behind her.
Sitting in front of her, in a circle, was a group of men and women, of all different ages. A deep burning fire sat in the center of them, sage and rosemary lining the edge of the fire, close enough to be singed and release their scent, but far enough not to be fully burned. As Gaia approached them, the youngest, a girl who seemed to be only eight years of age, opened her eyes. The others remained immune to them, but she said in a cultured, elegant voice of a twenty year old, “Welcome, Gaia. It has been so long since we had guests in our palace. Please, stay awhile.”
Gaia blinked, and she was suddenly in a white, glowing palace. The room she sat in had a long, white table, with a white fire burning in the fireplace, and white flowers and candlesticks on the table. Standing near her was a woman with a head full of white curls, white, blind like eyes, and pale white lips. She was dressed in white, green, and brown, with her hands clasped at her sides and her feet hovering just above the air.
“Sill.” Gaia breathed. “You are His wife.”
“Yes, Gaia.” Sill smiled demurely, bowing her head to the young Queene. Sill motioned at the table with a long, white hand, and Gaia sat carefully, staring at Sill.
Sill tsked lightly, and Gaia blinked, looking down at herself. She was sitting in one of the seats near the end, but obviously this was not where Sill wanted her to be sitting. Snapping her fingers, Sill smiled when Gaia was suddenly sitting at the head of the table. She gracefully seated herself at the other end, giving Gaia a sweet giggle. “Now that were are properly seated, I believe I should ask why you are here, my Queene.”
Gaia went to ask her not to say, ‘my Queene,’ then bit her lip to stop herself. Asking that would only make Sill either get offended, hurt feelings, or say it just to bug her. So, ignoring the strange honorary title one of her gods was using, Gaia answered quietly, “I came here to request for help, Sill.”
Sill looked utterly and completely confused. She shifted, frowned, and the shifted some more. Finally, she looked at sill and asked curiously, “Request help for what, my Queene? You crops are healthy, your people are as well. Babies are on the way and being born, families are close together, you have everything you need. She we change the weather?”
“No! No, of course not. Sill, I did not come here to ask for something as silly and mundane as that. I assure you that I mean nothing like any of those strange requests I might have asked for. No, as I am sure you know, this is a war going on. A war in between Chryseis and Azanigin, with the other Queenes helping. I have refused requests to join both armies, yet they still went to war without someone to tip either scale. They will destroy Celterica and each other! And if either survives, they will hunt me down and kill me and my people too. Please, Sill, you and your family, your people, must stop this! We are desperate!” Gaia was begging by the end of her words, tears in her eyes. Sill couldn’t refuse, she was a Goddess who had to help her children when asked.
Or so Gaia thought.
“No.” Sill answered quietly. Gaia froze in place, and felt her world shatter around her. “Gaia, I cannot do so, I cannot interfere. This war was destined to be, no matter what happened. We knew this since we created Celterica, Gaia. We always knew. If we had warned you, you would hav tried to stop it, and we would have had to kill you, and any you told about the war. This has to happen.”
“But… Why?” Gaia sobbed. “The future isn’t set in stone! Shishmat says so, you say so, He says so! You can’t say something like that and have a unstoppable war! This isn’t fair Sill! Why did you do this to destroy us? This isn’t fair!” She repeated the phrase continuously, tears rolling down her face and splashing onto the table. The table seemed to suck up Gaia’s tears hungrily, as when she next looked, there was no water to be seen. Anger suddenly pulsed through Gaia, and she slammed her hand onto the table angrily. “Why?” She screamed.
There was no response but silence. Gaia was alone in the room. Sill had fled.
The hours were a blur to Chryseis, as she killed ruthlessly, Cutting deep into a demon’s chest, or an elf’s neck, crippling him or her before killing them. She could not see in the normal sense, not since Azanigin had answered Chryseis’s stone walls with black blindness. Still, she had magic on her side, not to mention her racial and flight traits. She could see burning gold forms pulsing in the darkness, all of which were enemies. Her allies burned a bright silver, alerting her whenever one crossed her path.
Gold glitter came unexpectedly from behind her, and she ducked, an elvin blade sailing just over her head. Spinning around and slicing the Elf’s chest open. Chyseis smiled as she was awarded with a thick gurgling of blood rushing out of the elf’s mouth, and out of his - or her, - stomach. Suddenly, a huge gold figure towers over her. Chryseis spun to the side, and heard two blades cut into the elf’s body.
“Azanigin.” Chryseis hissed.
“Chryseis.” Azanigin greeted fondly, moving to attack the Faerie. “How good to see you here. I thought I would find you.”
Chryseis made no response. Instead, she twirled her staff and blade, blocking Azanigin’s blades before thrusting with her own, only to have her attack parried. She ducked to avoid another blow, slid until her legs were spread apart aginst the ground, (known to your world as the splits,) and tried to cut Azanigin’s leg out from under her. She heard bone crack, and then Azanigin laugh as the bone leg grew back. Hissing, Chryseis did a back somersault, before standing and blocking her enemy’s blows once more.
Azanigin chuckled, and pushed against Chryseis, who amazingly seemed uneffected by the demon mother and Queene’s strength. Gritting her teeth, the Faerie Queene pushed back, her arms tense with the combined force of both fighters. Azanigin let out a growl, her smile finally fading. Chryseis was unable to feel any real satisfaction at this.
“Give up, Chryseis! Even if you manage to defeat me, my army qil still win! We have darkness and the Gods and Goddesses on our side!” Azanigin shrieked, her voice full of even more screams of the dead and the damned, as she was on a battle field of death.
“The Gods and Goddesses follow me alone!” Chryseis thundered. “We will win, with the light and the sun on our side! Your darkness is nothing in comparison, fool!” She struggled against Azanigin once more, who was as immovable as the Draconic Peak Mountains. At the same time, both Queenes let out a roar.
The anger pulsing through her was much to strong. It was unlike anything she had every felt before. Immovable, she watched as Gaia awoke, and lay, still, in the tent of her sages, shamans, and druids. They gathered around her, knowing of what had happened. The fire in their tenet went out. She watched as Gaia was taken into the young girl’s arms, who’s face was as pale and drawn as a mother’s, who knows her child will not survive the newest war.
She watched as Purla turned back into a human, dropping from the sky and landing in the center of Azanigin’s army. She watched as the dragon Queene attacked Turtegiel, who blocked her attacks with her bow before drawing her daggers and slicing at Purla’s stomach. The former friends were turned against each other in battle.
She watched as Naomh and Kilyanox rushed at each other, their similar masks showed almost the same gruesome face. Naomh ducked beneath Kilyanox’s maces, before attacking with her own. Two Queenes so similar, turned against each other for eternity. They continued to fight, silent expect for occasional roars or cries of pain.
She watched as Beltryd launched herself at Zephrya, coming out of the shadows to protect the two Faerie mages. Zephrya’s tentacles flew at Beltryd, who nimbly dodged them, cutting off the one that was closest to her. Zephrya screamed, and one of her tentacles wrapped around one of Beltryd’s horns. A fierce tearing sound filled the air, and blood gushed out of the whole on Beltryd’s head, where the horn had been. They, too, were so similar, yet had to kill each other.
She shook. She always watched. Never interfered, never tried to change something. She recorded wars many times, World War Two she had recorded. She had recorded death before, had recorded pain and misery and blood. So why did it anger her so much this time? Because her parents were not helping them. Neither side would win. She could see that now. They would kill each other, and then Gaia’s people would fall to misery and waste away. The land would forever be stained with blood.
Forever.
Why? Why should she listen to people who would let this happen? Why should she let it happen? Why should she stand by and watch them kill? She wouldn’t. Angrily, she tossed the tome away, her quill following and still writing her deeds. She stepped through the air, until she was standing right in the center of all three armies. Her body shuddered, and she gasped in pain.
Why?
She pressed her hands against her chest, and convulsed, as if silently vomiting out nothing. She fell to her knees, still hovering in the air. Her feather hair fell around her face, and her white clothing brushed against her skin with each movement. Her many colored hands twitched continuously, moving with her body.
Why?
She felt it becoming, it built up deep in her chest, beating with her heart. Slowly, it traveled foreward, brushing veins aside and shifting through muscle, organs, flesh and bones as if her did not exist. As it left her skin, and came to her hands, it slowly became stronger, glowing not only in her mind, but now in her eyes. Those skilled in magic looked up, including Chryseis, Azanigin, and the other Queenes. After a moment, even the non magic users looked. They saw nothing, but a hovering silver ball. It twitched, and then suddenly, seemed to explode.
Why?
When she opened her large eyes, and looked around, she was shocked. Underneath her, stood statues made of pure stone. Her magic had utterly destroyed the people of Celterica. However, it took her a few moments of breathing to realize that not only the people were destroyed. The birds were silent. The grass was made of rock, as was the trees, the water, and the sand. Near her, a bird that had made the mistake to try and fly by, was frozen in the air, made of stone as well. She carefully touched it, and it turned to dust. She dropped her hands to her sides, and fell to her knees. Raising her head, she closed her eyes and screamed.
“WHY??”
The world went dark.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Reply
