'The Triangle of Fiery Light'
==========================
Part I - by Banshee
==========================
Harsh sunlight streamed through the ornate carved windows,
creating a star pattern on the marble floor. A tall,
dark, handsome man with long strode through the sunbeams,
disrupting the patterns.
"Where is the Grand Vizier!? Summon him here at
once!" he shouted angrily as a hapless slave scurried
off. He threw himself onto an elaborate throne, a frown
on his face, his hand ruffling his short, curly hair
in frustration.
A short, plump man elaborately dressed in a tall turban
and flowing sequined robe hurriedly made his way towards
the man on the throne. He bowed low to the ground,
"Your Majesty, how may I serve you?"
The man on the throne sat up straight, glaring.
"You promised me the Awena and the Princess Noura
months ago, Jabir. I still haven't seen any sign of
either! Time is running short. I need them before the
month of Kedma arrives. That's two months away!"
"I assure you, your Majesty, that we are in talks
with the Maja Wahbimin..."
"Talk? Talk? What good is talk? I need results!
Jabir, you have two weeks to bring me the Awena and
Princess Noura, otherwise... let us just say that there
hasn't been a public execution for a while."
Jabir, the Grand Vizier, swallowed and bowed very low.
"Your Majesty, your word is law." He remained
in that position until the King relaxed back on the
throne.
"Very well, Jabir. You may go," he waved
an imperious hand at the man bent half to the ground.
Jabir stepped backwards until he reached the door of
the Great Hall and then slaves closed the door behind
him. He straightened up and sighed.
"King Mansour is a powerful man, but impetuous.
The Almira will never give up the Princess Noura or
the Awena to his sworn enemy," he thought to himself,
rubbing his neck. "I had better contact those confounded
Maja Wahbimin, you would think those merchants would
be falling over themselves to be the first to hand Mansour
Noura or the Awena. They certainly been awarded enough
money! Nothing good can come of this obsession."
The Grand Vizier shivered despite the warm sunshine
flooding through the palace and carried on walking towards
his offices.
King Mansour remained in the Great Hall on his throne,
staring pensively out to space. A female slave tentatively
approached the frowning king with a tray of fruit and
a drink of wine and knelt down, holding the tray out.
Mansour turned distractedly towards the slave and eyed
the pretty girl who was shaking.
"Put that tray down, girl! What is your name?"
"Rowa, Supreme Highness," she nervously replied
as she lay the tray down on the low table nearby.
"Rowa, your appearance pleases me... I am in need
of some distraction. Go to my chambers and prepare a
bath for me," Mansour commanded.
"As you wish, Supreme Highness," the frightened
girl kowtowed to him and scurried out backwards.
Mansour left his throne and walked to the sunniest
corner of the Great Hall. Pressing a brick on the wall,
he waited impatiently as a hidden door swung open. Walking
through a dimly lit passage, he eventually came to a
triangular shaped room. In the center of this room sat
a triangular shaped object. In its sharpest point, there
was a large ruby sitting atop an open cone.
Mansour came to a halt and pressed the ruby downwards
into the cone.
"Altar of Sulwyn, show me the future!" he
commanded, removing his hand from the cone.
A flame shot out of the ruby, bathing the room with
a eerie reddish light. Gradually the flames increased
and began to form a wavy picture. The flames turned
into a red wall of light and Mansour frowned as he observed
the moving flames. Eerie voices could be heard in low
whispers.
"Mansour of the Shammara, son of Yardan and Zarola.
What do you wish to see?"
"Princess Noura has rejected my marriage proposals,
why is this?" demanded Mansour.
"She will not accept what you offer her, Mansour
of the Shammara, son of Yardan and Zarola."
Mansour frowned.
"How could she not want what I have to offer?
She will be queen of the Shammara, any woman of noble
birth could not refuse such an offer of marriage!"
"Noura of the Maja, daughter of Kamali and Zuleika
knows of your desires, Mansour of the Shammara, son
of Yardan and Zarola."
"Hmmm... enough of that. Where is the Awena hidden?"
was the King's next question of the Altar.
Silence permeated the reddish glow.
"Speak now! Tell me where the Awena is!"
demanded Mansour.
"The Altar of Sulwyn cannot show you that of which
you seek."
Mansour smacked the white gold surface of the table
and shouted.
"No! That is not what I want to hear! Show me
the Awena!"
"The Altar of Sulwyn cannot show you that of which
you seek."
The King curled up his fist in anger and frustration,
his face dark.
"Why will you not show me where the Awena is,
Altar of Sulwyn!? I would have you destroyed!"
"You will not destroy the Altar of Sulwyn, Mansour
of the Shammara, son of Yardan and Zarola. It will help
you achieve what you desire. All in the Triangle of
Fiery Light cannot reveal to anyone each other's location.
That is how it has always been."
Mansour punched down on the hard surface of the table.
His knuckles bleeding, he shouted, "But I am Mansour
of the Shammara, son of Yardan and Zarola! I own you
now, the Altar of Sulwyn, you will do as I say!"
The flames began dissipating.
"The Altar of Sulwyn will show you no more, Mansour
of the Shammara, son of Yardan and Zarola."
The room darkened and silence remained. Mansour swore
and turned to leave the room.
"This is unacceptable. I MUST possess the Awena
and the Princess Noura!!"
==========================
Part II - by xadrian
==========================
"Princess Noura!" The slave girl entered
with bowed head, supplicant even towards her life long
master. "Your father wishes to see you, your Highness."
Noura's eyes remained closed for a moment longer, just
enough to remind the Ayman girl of her place. Interruptions
into the Princess's mental studies, however taboo, were
frowned upon.
"Tell him I will be along shortly," she finally
replied.
Shima bowed low but did not retreat.
"He said it's a matter of great import, your Highness,
and requests your attendance immediately."
Noura's eyes snapped open, partly due to the impudence
of Shima and partly because of her knowledge of what
would transpire at this meeting.
"Is my brother being summoned as well?" she
asked.
"Yes, your Highness."
Ah yes, she thought. Bring the Viper to the Mongoose's
lair, Father.
"Anyone else?"
There was a slight pause before Shima answered, enough
for Noura to whirl around on her cushioned dais. Nauro's
robes, while scant and sheer, gathered and draped sufficiently
to conceal her lithe figure. Even thought the Princess
was highly intelligent, few overlooked the fact that
she was also dangerously athletic, a condition she'd
received from having a male sibling. Her actions were
swift and concise.
"Well?" she prodded.
Shima blanched slightly, her knees weakening. Nauro
could tell this news was not good.
"Although they were not summoned, several of the
Jeroen are waiting outside your Father's chambers. Including
Yzomtec.
Yzomtec! Noura fumed. What does that pompous windbag
think he's doing.
"Thank you Shima," Noura said with a slight
nod indicating the slave girl was dismissed.
"Your message displeases me, but rest assured,
unlike my father, I realize you're just the messenger.
I don't expect I'll need your services the rest of the
evening. Feel free to leave the grounds as you will."
Shima's burden visibly left her shoulders.
"Thank you, your Highness." And with a graceful
bow she exited Noura's chambers.
* * *
Kamali paced his chambers, an uprooted tree shuffling
in and out of the afternoon sunbeams. His gnarled, darkened
form disguising a wiry, sinewy frame. His red and white
robes looking out of place and uncomfortable. Kamali
seemed to be a man who would rather hunt or fight than
wear finery. His eyes were keen as they swept over the
room and its few occupants. Finally, his hawkish gaze
settled on Rami.
"Where is she?" he grumbled.
Rami's tall lean figure was the antithesis of his father.
Where Kamali was stern and wise, Rami was airy and aloof.
Both wore the devious hat of politician, but the years
had worn on Kamali, and now he looked the part.
"She's been sent for father," Rami replied,
glancing around the room. His indifference smoldering
in Kamali's psyche.
"I can only assume she's on her way."
"Don't placate me, Son. If it wasn't for your
haste and brashness, Yzomtec wouldn't be picketing outside
my door."
Rami's expression darkened, his austere posture losing
some of its haughtiness. Neither he nor his father much
liked Yzomtec, but the priesthood was a necessary evil
in Maja and the ancient line of Almira's had always
put up with them. However, as of late, the Jeroen were
becoming a rabble, sparked to life by the larger than
life gasbag that was Yzomtec.
"He's only here because his power is waning,"
Rami replied, trying to regain a place in his father's
eyes.
"The Wahbimin and the guilds have few reasons
to tolerate their excesses. His actions recently are
just a show. Even his admonitions toward Noura are ill
founded."
"I see that you believe as such, my son,"
Kamali said, stilling his pacing feet and gazing out
the long floor length windows onto his kingdom.
"There are forces at work that even you do not
realize. Your little helper is cunning, but she hasn't
yet found the truth."
At this point Rami lost all composure.
"I have no idea what you're talking about, Father,
Zarifa has never--"
"I know of your actions, Rami!" Kamali shouted,
cutting him off.
"Do you think I've survived as Almira of Atalaya
for so long because I take things for granted? You're
coming dangerously close to treason against your own
people with your poking and prodding at the Shammara,
trying to get information without my consent.
"It's imperative that you leave this business
with the Almira alone, and I mean this instant. Our
relations are strained enough with Mansour vying for
Noura's hand."
"His scheming will only due to insight our people
to riot, Father. His ambitions are not for uniting our
two kingdoms, you must see that."
Kamali paused and looked at the ground. His eyes dimmed
slightly. Unfortunately, he was but a desperately few
people who understood Mansour's motivation. The secret
his line had kept so deep for so long was threatening
to bubble to the surface. He wasn't above infanticide
to keep this secret safe, but he knew such actions would
not only inflame the minds of his people, but would
weaken his bargaining posture with Shamara and her King.
"For now, Rami," Kamali spoke with grave
resignation,
"Please just let it be for now."
==========================
Part III - by Cabralsoth
==========================
Noura quickly changed into her formal temple garb,
whisked out of her room and down the hall to the temple
were her Father was waiting.
"What have you gotten me into this time Father?"
Noura thought to herself. Just then she got a chill
as a strong breeze pulsed through the hall. There was
a rumble from far, far away.
BADHOOOOOM...
"Could it actually be a storm coming?... it was
so beautiful right when i got changed..."
Up ahead Noura could see Taliz running towards her.
Taliz had been a friend to Noura for as long as she
could remember. They even took psionic training together,
though Taliz had never been as naturally gifted. As
Taliz came closer Noura noticed she had a horrible look
on her face.
"Taliz... what is it? Whats wrong?"
Taliz reached Noura but she was breathing terribly
hard and trying to talk, but everything was just mumbled
and rushed together.
"Calm down Taliz, please just relax... what troubles
you so?"
"Th...the .... Sho...Sh..Shorans are coming..."
Noura's eyes went wide.
"Shorans." Images from long ago flashed into
Noura's mind. When last the Shorans had appeared Noura
was but only a child, nearly 3 years old. All she could
recall was the screaming, the screaming of men, women
and children ringing through her ears and images of
massive creatures flying through a blackened sky. And
the Shorans' wail, that terrible high-pitched wail piercing
through your soul as though the cry alone could render
you helpless.
Taliz breathed in deeply and continued.
"Tariq and I were up in the Mystics' tower, we
were watching the two suns rise when we saw the clouds
gathering. We waited a bit to see if it was just a sandstorm,
but then the clouds turned black and rose towards the
sky, the clouds formed the shape of the Triangle...
that was when we knew it was them."
Noura remembered the tales her father had told her
of the Triangle of Fiery Light, that the Shorans had
once claimed it and had ruled over the lands. Destroying
cities and crops and whatever else they chose.
It was actually the Rida and the Jeroen that had stopped
them before, while the Rida, which were the warriors
and soldiers, held the Shorans at bay as best they could,
the Joreon had created a spell that split the triangle
into three parts. The first part of the triangle was
turned into what we now call Awena, a religious artifact
that was hidden away in a far off land, that was believed
to be the heart and power to the Triangle. The second
became the Alter of Sulwyn which could foretell part
of the future, this also disappeared soon afterwards,
that was believed to be the soul of the Triangle. The
third piece was never told of what it became, and the
only magi that knew of what it transformed into had
killed himself shortly after the spell worked, he stated
that only in his own death can he be sure that the triangle
never came together again, the third part was believed
to be the key to activate the Triangle once again.
"Please Princess Noura, I must take you to the
shelters," Taliz pleaded. "Tariq already went
to notify the royal guards."
"No, my Father and brother are in the temple waiting
on me, I have to go warn them!"
Noura proceeded to run to her Fathers chamber when
Taliz grabbed hold of her arm and spun her around.
"Then I'm coming with you." Taliz said. Noura
could tell from her determined look that she was not
going to give in.
Noura and Taliz raced down the corridor notifying everyone
they came across to get the word out and sound the alarms.
BAAAHHHHDOOOOOOM...
Noura looked off to the side through one of the windows
facing the Eastern border of Atalaya. Her pulse quickened
further when she saw there no longer was a horizon,
just an impenetrable blackness rising in the sky. The
alarms began to ring out throughout the city just as
Noura and Taliz entered the temple where her father's
chambers were.
"Taliz, go to the west wing and evacuate the children
in the meditating chambers, I'm going up to my father's
chambers." Noura didn't wait for a reply, pushing
Taliz in the direction of the meditating rooms and running
off to her Father.
Guards were now scrambling all over, getting to their
posted positions and awaiting further orders. Clerics,
Magi, and Psionists joined them as well.
Noura almost got trampled as she turned the final corner
to her father's hallway, as a whole crew of archers
barreled through on their way to their posts.
Noura could now see Yzomtec and the rest of the Jeroen
standing at the end of the hall talking to her father
and brother. She could tell by their body language that
they were in a heated debate about something.
"Father!" Noura cried out as she raced towards
them.
Noura's father looked her way... just then she heard
a cry from the guards outside, as a deafening wail blew
over the kingdom. The temple shook and she lost her
footing and fell to the floor. Noura looked up to see
her father racing towards her as the ceiling above him
began to crumble and break... it would be the last time
Noura would see his face.
==========================
Part IV - by zan
==========================
She awoke to Dark.
Not dark, where you still have a chance of making out
shapes and finding your way, but impenetrable Dark.
Like a night away from the cities when both moons are
new. Like the time Rami put out all the lights and locked
the door when she was down in the wine cellar.
She sat up and blinked her eyes several times, trying
to get them to adjust, to make out anything in the inky
blackness. She assumed by the feel of the sheet and
blanket that covered her, by the familiar scent of her
favorite incense, that she was in her own bed, in her
own room.
Why then were the windows so completely shuttered?
Why did she see no light from the city below?
"Hello," she ventured, her voice still small
and raspy after her slumber. "Shima?" She
felt about the night table, unsuccessfully looking for
the bell she sometimes used to summon her attendant.
"Lean back and conserve your strength, daughter
of Maja," a deep, tender voice urged. All at once,
large, warm hands found her own and placed them gently
back on the bedclothes.
"Father?" Noura asked.
"No, my child," the voice continued gently.
"Yzomtec is here to attend you."
At the mention of his name, Noura shuddered and made
a face, the total darkness giving her the courage to
lay bare her distaste for the Jeroen council member.
His holier-than-thou pronouncements, condescending manner
and knack for driving the joy out of most any situation
had plagued her since she was a young girl, and she
had never understood how a blowhard such as him could
be so esteemed among his colleagues. As she grew, and
as Yzomtec rose ever more quickly through the Jeroen
ranks, she realized these qualities were seen as assets
among the religious order.
"What news, then Yzomtec," Noura snapped,
her voice regaining its usual royal authority. "That
brings you to my chamber in dead of night, in such an
indecent state as I am. You ought to be ashamed, accosting
young women in their bedchambers at all hours. I might
even take the beastly dream I woke from as a portent
of your arrival."
"My child..." the voice faltered, as if uncertain
how to continue. "Would that yesterday's events
were a dream." He said no more, and only stroked
her hand lovingly. His lack of commentary was extremely
uncommon.
At first, she made to protest, to pull away, but as
she remembered the attack, the strength left her. The
sky, so black with those hideous flying creatures! Her
heart racing as she ran to warn her father and brother!
The ceiling beginning to...
"Where is my father!" Noura exclaimed, forgetting
royal restraint and decorum. "Yzomtec, what has
happened to him?" She clutched the uncharacteristically
sympathetic cleric's hands in the darkness, yesterday's
terror felt anew.
"Hush, Noura, hush," the Jeroen whispered.
"Your father is alive and well, thanks in no small
part to your swift actions. He and your brother are
out in the city this very moment, assessing damage and
helping to restore order, and gave instructions to me
to watch over you as you recovered from your strain."
He patted her arm and she could almost feel his reassuring
smile.
"I must say," he went on, "we were all
quite surprised at how your... abilities have matured.
I'm sure that at the next Jeroen council there will
be at least a few changed minds about your pursuit of
the unknown arts. Without your intervention, fully half
of the council might have been caught in the collapse.
Of course, I never for a moment doubted the Deities'
wisdom in instilling in you a desire to..."
"Please, priest, I am so exhausted," Noura
waved him to silence as best she could though she could
not see her own hand before her. She didn't usually
risk sounding so openly irritated with him, but she
didn't relish him returning to form and beginning a
sermon her in her chambers at this hour. The fact that
her relations were absent from her side and sent him
in their stead was a painful reminder of her family's
priorities, and frustration made her reckless.
"You tell me my father and brother are out restoring
order," the princess snapped. "Has the Shorans'
attack brought so much chaos that the city rages rather
than sleeps? Make some sense for once, Yzomtec."
"Noura," Yzomtec began, "you must understand
that there is a purpose in everything. It may not be
clear right now, but in time..."
"Yzomtec, enough," Noura sighed.
"Right, then," he replied, taking a familiar,
stern tone for the first time. "I know you've dabbled
in inner sight. Open your soul to the world around you,
now, and it will become clear."
The Jeroen stopped speaking, instead taking her hand
and rising beside her bed, to lead her to her feet.
Noura pulled back the bedcovers with the other hand
and put her bare feet on the floor. It was warm. She
stood and allowed herself to be led across the room.
Where, she knew not for certain, but she could hear
voices.
As they walked, Noura concentrated, clearing her mind
of distractions and allowing impressions of her surroundings
to come to her. She could sense the location of her
bed, the chair Yzomtec had been sitting in, her dressing
table. She could tell that he was leading her to her
favorite window. She could feel a strange concern and
pity radiating from the old council member.
As they reached the window, she sensed activity in
the courtyard below. The servants' children were at
play with sticks, their spirits bright and bubbly like
fountains. Shima was hanging some linen tablecloths
on the line to dry. Noura could feel Shima's irritation...
perhaps at having to do such manual labor, as she was
fond of tending to the princess herself. But the last,
simplest part of the picture came to Noura last, since
she took its presence for granted. She did not even
need the inner sight to know it was there.
The noontime sun was unmistakable, its warmth caressing
her cheek.
In her surprise and shock, Noura floundered, the impressions
ebbing. She caught a wisp of Shima looking up to her,
the children stopping their game.
"Wave back, child," Yzomtec said gently,
firmly, from behind her. "Smile. They needn't know."
Noura did as she was bid, then stepped back from the
window, struggling to regain her bearings. Yzomtec held
her hand until she mastered the impressions in the room
once more, then let her hand drop to her side so she
could stand on her own.
"Not much in this almiraen has been as it appeared,"
the priest confided. "Not for quite some time,
so perhaps the Deities felt human sight unnecessary.
Forgive them, child, and trust their judgement. Forgive
me, as well, because there much more for you to know,
and even more to be done."
"Let me start by telling you the story of the
Triangle of Fiery Light..."
==========================
Part V - by Heersahoo
==========================
Kamali sat in his sedan chair, slumped to the side,
gazing at the ruins of a once prosperous jeweler. Kamali
stared past the rubble, seeing the future that MIGHT
be creeping just over the horizon, waiting to snare
his kingdom. He sat deep in thought, chin resting in
the cup of his right hand, his knobby knuckles hiding
all but the faintest trace of his lip-less mouth. The
arm supporting this hand rested upon the arm of a heavily
carved chair held aloft by sheer will by twelve men;
six men to each stave, three men fore and three men
aft.
Each of these men, Ayman slaves of course, was garbed
in the Almira's livery, tabards of deepest red and purest
white. Their boots were black leather, buffed to a mirror
shine as were the braces that crossed their shoulders.
The braces had thick pads molded to fit the chair staves,
for even a ruler such as Kamali realized the comfort
of slaves will keep them docile. As a show of rank among
the Ayman, Kamali's bearers were allowed to wear elaborate
headdresses of bright bird plumes to show their prominence,
though of course this merely served the function that
bridle decorations would on a horse. Of course, an uneducated
slave could never guess at this.
"Poor Master Jenkiri, he was a fine craftsman.
Finer than any who shall come after."
"Aye Majesty, 'tis a mighty shame such as he has
passed to the realm of the shades." Banner General
Tichegira stood looking up at his master, careful not
to look directly into the eyes of such an exalted personage.
"I had hoped he would create a piece for my eldest
daughter's wedding this coming Mardras. Such a waste
and for no profit"
Tichegira was tallish with thick, ropy muscles. A lifetime
of scars decorated his arms and face, as well as other
unseen seen parts of his anatomy. His mail hauberk was
brightly shined, though relatively simple as is the
tabard that covers it. In fact, the one differentiation
between Tichegira and his common foot soldiers was a
small golden ribbon stitched on his right breast.
The two men, as well as numerous onlookers, were trying
to avoid looking at the Shoran corpse that lay amid
the broken shop walls or the lance-sized sword protruding
from a horse corpse a short distance away. The Shoran
was once a ponderous beast -- what a person not within
hearing distance of it would call obese -- strong as
ten oxen and uglier than a nightmare. The creature was
now nothing more than sagging folds of charcoal skin
hanging on an enormous frame hidden only partially by
rusted plate armor. The Shoran had seen better times,
there was definite truth in that.
"The Shoran must be desperate indeed to chance
such a raid in the light of day. Their power has always
lain in night attacks. I can't imagine the force that
drove them to such a measure." Tichegira squinted
his eyes as if pondering the greatest mystery in the
universe, but to him this might have actually been it.
He was but a simple soldier after all.
"Yes, Tichegira, a force of terrible will and
purpose..." Kamali stared off toward the Feroq
Mountains whose peaks formed the border between Maja
and Shamara.
* * *
"Pathetic gargin!" Mansour raged. "This
is what I paid ten thousand head of cattle to obtain?
What, a slaughter of your entire army? I wanted Maja
to come to me looking for alliance to stave off the
Shoran horde. Instead I must find enough slaves to dig
your enormous graves in this granite soil. Bah! Get
out of my sight. Pass from this, world your time is
finished." Mansour stood at the flap of his campaign
tent, pitched in the mountains, looking across the Lurea
Plains to the Maja capital.
The Shoran Herk-lord Mharme stood hunched and weary.
Once, he never would tolerated one calling him "gargin",
literally animal droppings scraped off a boot, without
tearing him limb from limb. But though he had not lost
so much of his girth as the others, he still was but
a shadow of his former self. Blood-soaked bandages wrapped
most parts of his body not hidden beneath dented armor,
and he digested the insult silently.
Mharme shambled back to the rock eries the remnants
of his people have claimed. There was a look of murder
on his face but who could tell if it is for the Majans,
the Shamarans or both?
Mansour poured himself a goblet of wine from a metal
pitcher and took a deep swallow. As he finished and
wiped his hand across his wide mouth, Jabir entered
the tent.
"Majesty, a courier has just arrived with a dispatch
from Maja."
"Send him in. But if the news is ill, he will
live among the shades before the hour is out. Tell him
so."
"I will majesty. He is among the cooksmen to whet
his thirst but I will send him immediately."
Mansour paced the border of the tent until the courier
was announced.
"Your majesty, I bring tidings from Banner General
Tichegira and his lord benefactor. The plan proceeds
with a but a few minor snares along the way."
"What snares?" Mansour snapped. "I thought
my gold could shear any snare."
* * *
Dark clouds scudded across the gibbous moon, lighting
the Plains of Lurea in a queer, dappled light. Noura
could no longer see this, true, but she knew it for
truth none the less. Below, the work crews contiued
to remove rubble, hoping to find survivors but dreading
the worst. A bonfire of enormous proportions burned
just beyond the city walls and towers of greasy smoke
rose high into the night. A horrible sight, for sure,
but Noura would have given anything to have seen it
true, not with the second sight.
The door creaked open behind her.
"Princess, I was going to retire but wanted to
check if you needed anything first," Yzomtec inquired.
"Now you see to my needs, old fool? It was your
opposotion to my training that led to this position.
What more do I need from you?" Noura began to cry
bitter tears. "A curse upon all priests."
As she spoke, a psionic wave flashed outward, knocking
Yzomtec to his knees, but beyond, it hit the Great Temple,
cracking the Dome of Uhysi like an egg. As the dome
pieces fell, the rest of the Temple followed in domino
fashion.
==========================
Part VI - by Vendetta
==========================
The sultry, lithe form of Zarifa sauntered through
a long and elaborate hall, her full lips humming an
old Jeroen ceremonial tune. Her hips swayed from side
to side as she walked, keeping the rhythm of the tune
with each step that belie a nearly erotic dance. She
stopped and slowly turned her head to gaze over her
shoulder.
"You make that song positively blasphemous,"
Rami said with a mocking clap when her gaze fell upon
his stately frame.
A mischievous smile crossed Zarifa's lips.
"If you believe in that sort of thing, sure,"
she shrugged and turned to face the Prince. Her full
figure pushed against her silky gown as it draped elegantly
over her body. The slit down the side of the pantaloons
shimmered and danced as she shifted her weight from
hip to hip, her supple legs seen in only hints that
she knew made men fantasize. As Michelangelo handled
a brush, so she had mastered even tiniest nuance of
her body.
"Though, the priests who have seen the whole 'performance'
certainly haven't take up any issues with it."
Rami shook his head, knowing full well what she meant.
But business first.
"Come here, girl, I've need of your special talents.
I am on limited time so we must be quick."
Zarifa stared hard at him for a second before smiling
coyly and sauntering forward toward him.
"And which talents would those be?"
"Do not flatter yourself. I need you to find something
out for me..."
Zarifa listened and tried desperately to keep the disgust
off of her face. "Rami, you scheming fool..."
she thought to herself, "when the Minya crumble
I'll first humiliate you as my plaything before tossing
you aside to the pigs." She listened to what he
needed of her and she plotted how best to use this newest
revelation.
* * *
He spoke with passion and all who listened could not
help but be moved by his words. Tariq paused just long
enough to let his last statement echo in the minds of
his listeners. Silently, he thanked the gods for his
partner, Raheem, whose position in the palace serving
the Almira and secret affair with his daughter, Noura,
meant that even the softest words whispered within the
palace walls were often caught by his sly ears.
"Hear me now, if you have heard nothing else I
have said," Tariq continued. "This attack
by the Shorans is but the first of many grave perils
facing Atalaya. There will be no peace, not while Prince
Rami, Almira Kamali and Mansour, King of Shammara dance
this fateful dance... and for what? Control? Power?
I tell you, all of these and more. For nothing short
of the Triangle of Fiery Light is their goal and each
will stop at..."
His words were cut short as the Almira's elite guard
rounded a building down the street followed shortly
by his litter, held aloft by the twelve Ayman slaves.
He knew that only seconds remained before the guards
realized what was happening and ran forward to put an
end to his preaching.
"Look, now, at our Almira," Tariq exclaimed
quickly. "See how he mocks you? See how he sits
atop the shoulders of your kinsmen when one of the great
steeds of his stable would be better suited for the
task. But no! Lo, he comes hither riding atop men, symbolic
of how he lives his life... with you under his foot!"
As if on cue, the elite Rida rushed forward to break
up the demonstration. Tariq, a veteran of such events,
covered his face quickly and slipped swiftly down an
alley, diving between a large cart filled with camel
dung -- treated for the fertilization of gardens --
and a Toraskar. The Toraskar, who need only drink once
a month, were used in many ways as beasts of burden
throughout all of Atalaya. The massive desert mammal
was twice the size of an elephant, though it more closely
resembled a lizard, covered in large, off-white plates.
The plates helped it keep cool under the blazing sun
and providing hardy protection.
Tariq was gone before the first Rida stepped into the
alley.
However, not one of the elite guards, nor any person
on the street thought anything of the escaping demonstrator.
All eyes were turned to the west toward the Temple of
Jeroen-Ka Æl Rån as its large dome collapsed
in on itself.
* * *
Yzomtec crashed into the hard marble wall like a melon
dropped onto the ground. The loud cracking of ribs could
be heard echoing down the halls, followed shortly and
drowned out completely by the cracking of the dome in
the near-by temple. Screams could be heard as pieces
began falling on worshippers, giving only scant warning
of the entire thing collapsing in on itself. Temple
halls began to follow suit and toppled over like stacked
cards. Blood ran from the priest's mouth as he fell
limp to the ground.
A strange, mystical fire enveloped Noura and power
surged through her veins. Shock and horror filled her
mind as she seemed to lose control of her body. The
eerie yellow-green flames leapt higher and higher from
her flesh until it filled the room. Confined, caged,
uncontrolled, Noura raised her arms and with a blast
of raw power, the roof of the building was blown apart,
the debris raining down across the city of Atalaya and
even into the desert of Maja beyond the walls. She rose
into the air swiftly like a phoenix into the noon-day
sky and then at blinding speed, roared off toward the
Feroq Mountains.
* * *
King Mansour was in audience with the Grand Vizier
when a strange rumbling noise was heard coming forth
from the wall behind him. Immediately his heart sank
in fear.
"The Altar!" He exclaimed to Jabir, not caring
if anyone heard mention of his secret possession. Both
ran like frightened children to the secret chamber where
the Altar of Sulwyn was kept. As the door slowly swung
open, a blinding yellow-green light poured out of the
room. So great was the light that neither Jabir nor
Mansour could see anything in the room. The rumbling
increased so that little more than shouts could be heard
above it.
"What the hell is going on?" Mansour cried
in fear.
"The prophecy..." Jabir exclaimed in dread-filled
awe.
"...Atop the highest mountain of Feroq
A great crash of thunder and fire
The crest of the mountain ripped asunder
A valley rests where once rock rose
"Fire of heaven
Fire from hell
Wrath in darkness come
Light seen by all yet unseen
Strike the priest
And tear the temple down.
"Rise phoenix
Come harbinger
Run all you who fear
Hide not near these walls
Flee to the hills
Make haste and do not turn back..."
-~ The sacred text of the Kateb
In the lonely mountains of Feroq, now was a crater.
Smoke rose from its newly created walls and at its center
knelt a small woman. Her face was covered in ash, her
clothes in shreds. Her eyes were blind yet she saw more
than she has ever seen before. She rocked back and forth,
tears making ashen mud as they rolled over her cheeks.
"What have I become?" She pled in silent
agony. "What in heaven..."
==========================
Part VII - by Ben Christensen
==========================
"I can see them dying. I know that's impossible
to believe, but I can," a voice let out into the
darkness.
"Yes, Master."
"The irony isn't lost on me. The death of the
Jeroen... blind in mind destroyed by blind in sight.
A predestined cosmic joke. How quickly the punch line
will come." The formless void hid the voice and
its minion. They stood at the brink of identity. "All
too quickly."
"Yes, Master."
* * *
As the evening sun set, the vista through one of Mansour's
windows was eclipsed by a Shoran creature gliding in
through the unlikely entrance. Landing with strained
grace, the lowly scout made it's way to his Herk-Lord
as Mansour watched, the two gruesome beasts talking
in their native language of growls and snorts. Jabir
carefully stepped to his king's side.
Mansour, never a man to miss an opportunity to display
his power, leaned over to the much shorter Jabir.
"Let me assure you that I have more than enough
weapons in this room, if you so much as think about
telling the Shoran about MY altar... I will kill you
within seconds."
Jabir trembled.
"Just so we have an understanding," Mansour
added with a smile. He turned to the two hired underlings.
"Mharme! What is he saying?" the king shouted.
"He says that a valley now exists where the Feroq
once stood. He says there was a woman inside, but he
dared not get closer."
"And why not?"
"He says it was the Heart of the Triangle."
"Really?" Mansour said, his face full of
contemplation. "Now that's very interesting."
He gestured his hand into the air as if by a subconscious
twitch. "Guards."
From hidden chambers of the hall, Shammaran guards
appeared holding large disc-like devices. With lightning
speed the discs were sent into the air, chopping the
heads off both Shoran warriors. Mansour went to his
throne and sat.
"Um... lord. Why kill them? They were the only
two Shorans left." Jabir asked, flinching from
every subtle action Mansour made.
"They once owned the Fiery Light, Jabir. If they
realized that the pieces were so close together now,
that everything would soon fall into place, they'd have
killed us all to gain the power again and I can't use
anyone with more ambition than myself."
The king cleared his mind.
"Okay, this changes a few things. Tell the Banner
General to move up to phase two. If we're going to succeed,
we have to take more drastic action."
Jabir bowed and scurries to the door.
"Oh, and Jabir?" Mansour called after him.
The little man turned, scared to find a attack disc
coming in his direction. "Y-Yes, my lord?"
"Do be a gent and find someone to clean up these
corpses."
* * *
Raheem stood motionless in the remains of Noura's room.
The ceiling had been blown outward as the mass of energy
and light flew out. The opening showed the night sky
above, giving the room its only illumination. Raheem
had been standing there for hours. His lover was gone.
"Why are you so displeased?" a voice came
from the hallway.
"This is my home. I feel for its loss."
Zarfia stepped out of the shadows and into the moonlight.
"Yeah? Well this is my home too, but you don't
see me giving into any self turmoil."
"Though our accommodations may be similar, Zarfia,
the tasks I was brought in to do are far different than
the ones you were." Raheem said as he gave turned
to give her a stern look. He exited the room, the hallway
seemed even darker.
"Hey, wait," Zarfia followed him out, quickening
her pace to catch up. "They say she's at the Feroq
Valley, that she created it and won't leave."
"What's your point?" Raheem said as he stopped.
"Go to her."
"I don't know what you may think, but there is
no reason for me to seek out Princess Noura."
"That's what the people out there might think,"
Zarfia said as she slipped into a small smirk, "but
I know better. Now let's go."
"Why would you help me?"
"Fun," she said with a smile. Raheem thought
for a moment and then motioned toward the exit. Together
they went for the stables. The hallway was dark and
seemed empty.
"In the name of all things holy, I love manipulation
and corruption. It's one of the truest forms of entertainment,
so involving and complex. Will she do what is needed?"
A familiar voice let out.
"Yes, Master."
"It does beg the question, does anyone really
know who they're working for anymore? Ha! Do they even
need a reason to take the bribes and stab those they
serve in the back? They think they're bettering their
positions, when in fact they simply are playing their
complicated parts."
"Yes, Master."
"Of course, you know all about that, don't you?"
From a hiding place in the shadows, a figure emerged.
Within seconds a single red light illuminated the hallway.
Rami stood in place, holding the glowing Awena in his
hand.
"Now, Rami" the locket said, "let's
go find my altar."
"Yes, Master." Rami replied.
==========================
Part IIX - by xadrian
==========================
Cold.
-The wind is warm.-
But I'm so cold.
-You could change that.-
I don't know how.
-Yes you do. It's always been within you.-
No, this was never mine. It was forced upon me.
-You may feel that way. It's in the past now. You must
see forward. You must see what you must do.-
What if I can't?
-Then people will die. You will die.-
Why must they die?
-Because that is the way of life. Inaction and neglect
as much as malevolence can cause the same amount of
pain.-
Entropy.
-Yes. So you understand why our hand was forced, why
your hand now must be forced.-
Yes. But...
-Don't be afraid. There's no pain for you in the end.-
* * *
"I can't ride any faster," Zarfia shouted
into the wind.
"You're going to have to if we're going to get
there first," Raheem shouted back. The horses they
absconded with were in a lather as they pushed them
hard toward the pass. The short ride to the crater and
its solitary inhabitant was on a steep grade, giving
their mounts plenty of resistance.
Zarifa spurred her horse on as best she could, but
Raheem rode like a man possessed. They both knew that
it was only a matter of time before opposing forces
made their way to the Feroq range. Raheem's intentions
were still not clear to her. Zarfia's insistence that
he go to his love was met with surprising resistance
and hesitation. His enthusiasm now bordered on zealousness.
They rounded the pass that stood for generations as
the high road between the two kingdoms. Millions of
years of geological evolution had created a natural
saddle between the two peaks. Now one of the great peaks
was but a smoldering crater, its one side dipping down
into the valley beyond, expanding it. The once safe
pass was now a precipice of crumbling stone and earth.
The two dismounted and approached on foot, wary that
the weight of the horses could trigger more slides.
The ground around them was unstable and the smell of
scorched earth was pervasive. As they approached, they
began to hear voices. Soft at first, like bird song
carried on an evening breeze. They stopped short of
the lip of the crater, crouched low and peaked over
the rim into the chasm.
The two gasped at the immensity of the damage. Until
now their view had been obscured by perspective and
flora. Now, as their clear line of sight opened up the
scope of the carnage, they were able to appreciate the
power involved. They were also suddenly afraid of its
potential.
"There she is!" Zarifa whispered, nodding
to the center of the great hole.
"Amazing," Raheem replied.
"She looks so delicate. It's hard to imagine she
could do so much damage."
"Hard to imagine or not, she did."
"So, what's the next move?" Zarifa inched
back out of site and sat back on her heels.
Raheem's focus was on Noura, her diminutive frame and
ragged, threadbare clothing seeming almost to shrink
from his sight. His love for her was not unknown to
Zarifa or the rest of the Ayman and Minya. It was a
forbidden love, for they were of different worlds. Raheem
had done well to accelerate his status and become the
personal body man to the Almira, but he was still a
slave and as such had no place within the royal line.
His underground dealings to bring freedom to his brothers
and sisters would have jeopardized it all, and only
Noura knew of them.
But now, looking at her, he could not remember what
it was all for; the fighting, the underhanded deals,
the deception. Everything he'd worked so hard for to
this point seemed moot in light of the raw power before
him, the power that existed in the body of one he loved.
"I don't know, Zarifa," he managed finally.
"I don't know whether to show fear or pity."
"Well, we have to do something. It's not likely
either side is going to show her much mercy. They just
want her for her power. You don't. So that makes you
the wildcard, doesn't it?"
He let the question hang there a moment before answering.
"Does she even know who I am?"
"Why don't you ask her yourself?" asked a
voice from behind the two.
The pair spun around as Rami belted Zarifa across the
face with hilt of his sword, knocking her unconscious.
Before Raheem could react, Rami leveled the blade at
his neck, the tip drawing a scant drop of blood as it
scratched his skin.
"What are you doing, Rami?" Raheem shouted.
The look on Rami's face was one of detached pyschosis
and Raheem felt that this man would do just about anything
if provoked. Raheem knew this man and knew of his heart.
He was an opportunist and a backstabbing liar, but he
was never driven to acts of violence. There was something
unholy and unfamiliar about him now. If Noura in the
pit was innocence and frailty, surely Rami was rage
and death. As Rami drew forth the Amulet, Raheem knew
his suspicions were correct.
"We're going to take a walk, you and I,"
said Rami. "We're going to say hello to your lover."
"Your sister," Raheem spat back. "What
do you want with her?"
"Why don't we find out together." Rami flicked
his blade towards the crater.
"No. You'll have to kill me to get to her."
Raheem didn't budge.
"So be it."
The blade didn't make a sound as it slid through Raheem's
flesh and rib cage. Before it all went black, he heard
a voice calling his name. It wasn't Zarifa, it almost
sounded like...
* * *
-It's time.-
I know.
-There was no saving him, you must know that.-
He didn't have to die.
-You will understand soon enough.-
When I'm through with them, I'm coming after you.
==========================
Part IX - by Banshee
==========================
Zarifa kicked and pushed herself away, groggy and barely
awake, horrified into action as she watched the knife
slice through Raheem's flesh, then his bleeding body
fell to the ground. The beautiful slave had never felt
fear before, despite all her scheming, but seeing the
normally moody Rami so emotionless really frightened
her. She finally scrambled to her feet and broke into
a loping run, heading to the panicked horses tethered
nearby.
She managed to get on her horse, but the animal was
petrified and would not move.
"Move, you blasted animal!" she screamed,
digging her heels viciously into the horse's flanks.
A hand gripped the bridle suddenly, holding the beast
firm.
Noura looked at the beautiful slave who had so ensnared
her brother and so many of the Minya.
"Zarifa.... Where do you think you are going?"
she spoke authoritatively. "You are now to accompany
me," she commanded again. Snapping her fingers,
the other horse, now calm, came to her side. Noura easily
pulled herself up on the horse, her unseeing eyes now
glowing a quiet red.
"Mistress..." began Zarifa, "Where are
we going? Rami and Raheem are...?" Silence met
her questions. Noura stopped her horse and turned to
look at the slave. Zarifa found it unnerving to look
at those glowing red eyes that should have been blank.
"You forget yourself, Zarifa..." Noura spoke
quietly.
"Your forgiveness, Highness," Zarifa murmured,
her head lowered.
"Rami has disappeared, it is not the time to pursue
him."
"What of Raheem, the Awena...."
"He....." Noura pauses, taking a deep breath
to control the surge of emotions that threaten to cut
off her inner sight. "He ..... has... left.. us...
for now. Let us hope that his suffering was not in vain..."
"You mean his death?" enquired Zarifa cautiously.
"Enough! You ask too many questions. We have much
ground to cover." The servant bowed her head and
they rode deeper into the mountains. Risking a look
behind her, the slave tried to see evidence of a grave
or something that marked Raheem's passing.
To her surprise, there was no longer any evidence of
a crater, just a lake with shimmering clear waters and
lush green surroundings.
"What in the Kateb's name..." she thought
to herself, shocked.
"Zarifa..." Noura spoke again, "there
is much you do not understand."
Zarifa turned back in her seat and nodded quietly.
The normally flamboyant slave was taciturn now, afraid
of the Princess that had such hidden powers, fearsome
and volatile.
When Noura told Zafira of their destination, the slave
let out a gasp.
"That cannot be, Highness... that would be suicide!"
"I do not fear death, Zarifa. Not with the pain
I have felt."
"Raheem's death?"
Noura smiled enigmatically and continued riding in
silence. Zarifa sighed and keeping her turbulent thoughts
to herself, she followed the Princess.
* * *
Rami opened his eyes, blinking rapidly as he felt pain
course through his body.
"What in the Kateb's name is going on," he
cried out, remembering flashes of blood, his body floating,
a pair of red glowing eyes. The prince sat up suddenly,
clutching desperately at his neck, searching for the
necklace.
"Nooo! Where has it gone? I had them in my sights!
I could have destroyed the Shammara!" he cried
out again.
"Shush, my child. You speak such nonsense."
A old, crackly voice spoke out behind him.
"How dare you speak like that to a Prince of the
Minya, the Almira's Heir and First Born Son!? SHOW YOURSELF!"
Rami's voice broke in its fury, his pain forgotten momentarily.
An old woman appeared, the sputtering light of the
oil lantern casting menacing shadows around her. She
was dressed in a peasant garb, homespun skirt and blouse
in dark, faded colors. Her figure was still good, but
her face spoke of a beauty long faded, heavy lines also
spoke of suffering.
"Rami, those facts do not matter here... not to
your mother..." she chastised him, pushing him
back down on the bed easily.
"Mother? You are mistaken, my mother died many
years ago, put to death for her adultery!" Rami
cried desperately, feeling uncharacteristically bewildered.
The old woman laughed as she poured some rich dark
liquid from a carafe into a chalice.
"Believe that if it gives you comfort, Rami. Kamali
has done his work well. You are not a son of whom I
am proud." She handed him the chalice. "Here,
drink this, it will ease your pain."
Rami began to protest but the intense pain that he
felt when he tried to move cut his words abruptly. He
took the chalice without any further protest and sipped
it cautiously. A warmth poured through his veins, easing
the pain. Finishing the tonic, Rami leans back against
the bed.
"Where am I? What happened to the Awena?"
he asked.
The old woman sighed.
"My name, Rami, is Feryal. I am a healer now."
"That isn't my mother's name!" Rami frowned
and protested. "You said..."
"Enough! I gave birth to you, Rami, but I did
not always raise you. Kamali was not allowed to marry
me, Your grandfather saw to that."
"But... Noura..." Rami was for once at a
loss for words.
"She is... the result of Kamali's affair with
Heba, daughter of Yzomtec. Hence her incredible power.
The marriage between your father and whom you called
your mother was politically necessary. However, Jessenia's
tastes were... unorthodox so Kamali needed to beget
heirs somehow."
"No, no.. that is not true... it can't be..."
Rami closed his eyes. "I am Minya...First-born
to the Almira."
"Believe what you will, Rami," Feryal shrugged.
"The Awena!" Rami sat up again.
"Rami," Feryal smiled, "It is not yours
to possess. With such a black heart such as yours, the
Awena will turn to evil things. It is now safe with
one who is good and who was saved before his death..."
"But who..." Rami lay back, his eyes growing
heavy, his mind in a whirl...
Ferya looked at the now immobile Prince fallen into
a drugged sleep.
"Rest now, my son. You will have more pain to
deal with soon enough."
==========================
Part X - by Ben Christensen
==========================
Inside the borders of Shammara, in the capital of Nadda,
within the King's Great Hall, the doors opened. The
short form of Jabir walked in, moving quickly towards
his ruler.
"My lord, word from the scouts," he said.
"Princess Noura and an unknown companion ride towards
us from the Feroq Mount.... Valle.... um... Lake."
"And what of Banner General Tichegira?"
"He has spurred the Almira into action. The full
Majan army has been rallied and marches this way."
"Perfect." Mansour said "Soon everything
will be in place. Order our forces to withdraw from
their posts. When the triangle is brought together,
I will destroy the Maja MYSELF! Have some men move my
altar into the center of this floor then... have them
all shot... to be safe."
"Ready this Great Hall, Jabir!" Mansour almost
began to dance as he made his way around the room. 'We're
going to be having guests!"
* * *
"I can smell the corruption on you." Noura
said as her and Zarifa rode towards Nadda.
"What do you mean?" Zarifa contested.
"Rami bid you to bring Raheem to me. He told you
of control over me, control over the heart of the Triangle."
"He may have mentioned... something along those
line."
"Silly girl," Noura burst into an uncharacteristic
laughter. Zarifa looked over to find Noura's eyes ablaze
with yellow-green energy. "It should be clear to
you that I can NOT be controlled."
There was an uneasy silence as they continued to ride.
Passing the remains of a wall, they could see Nadda
off in the distance.
"So... is Raheem dead?" Zarifa asked again.
"No. His body was dying, his soul leaving his
form, but I restored the order within him." Noura
said. "I placed the consciousness of the Awena
into his body."
"But... why?"
"I was given little choice. That was the plan
of the Awena. Raheem would be near me, and Rami would
kill him. The Awena knew I would not allow this and
since it was there, I was forced to use its mind to
fill the void. Then he escaped... which hinders me from
fixing Raheem further."
"I... just don't understand." Zarifa said
as she looked away.
"It is not your place to. All you need to know
is that the Awena had no body of its own, so it planned
that event so that it would be able go to the altar
without a slave's help." Noura sighs for a moment,
almost returning from her stature for a moment. "Rami's
mind corrupted the Awena, and Raheem is paying the price.
There is only one way to make it right... one way to
make it ALL right."
Noura rode ahead, separating herself from Zarifa as
she contemplated the next move. The day wore on.
* * *
Rami awoke in a chair, his "mother" sitting
in front of him.
"You are in a very compromised state, Rami. The
drug I gave you will ensure that you tell me everything
I want to know."
"N...no." Rami whispered, his mind pushing
for more conviction, but finding none.
"Tell me how you found the Awena." Feryal
commanded.
"I saw... saw hint of it in one of Mansour's marriage
proposals to Noura." Rami said. "I asked father
about it, but he wouldn't tell me. Asking the Jeroen,
I was blocked again. The more I was denied, the more
I wanted to know. And then... I found it. Hidden in
father's chambers. It... it spoke to me!"
Suddenly Rami was on his feet and out the door of the
small home. To his surprise, mere yards from him marched
his father's army.
"Damn, I haven't much time now," said Feryal,
who had followed him outside, carrying a long sword.
"Rami, take this weapon. You must get to the Great
Hall of Nadda before the Ritual of the Triangle is finished.
When they kiss, fate and destiny break away for an instant,
allowing anyone to receive the power. To save all existence,
you must make sure it's not... ack--!"
An arrow punched through her chest, killing her instantly.
Rami turned to find a Rida Archer and the Almira riding
towards him.
"Rami!" The Almira shouted. "Son, whatever
lies this woman has told you... you don't understand..."
"No! You don't understand. Finally a bit of clarity
had been offered, but now it's gone unsaid. Archer!
Fetch me a horse, I must make for Nadda with haste."
Rami stared at his father. "You are a crooked old
man, hope that your actions here have not doomed us
all."
* * *
Mansour stared at his altar as it sat in the middle
of his hall. A familiar click sounded behind him, he
turned to find Tariq entering from a secret passage.
Mansour smiled. "Welcome home, brother. I take
it your rebellion is going well?"
"Yes, brother. Once you lay waste to the Almira
and the Rida, the rest of Maja should easily accept
you as their ruler." Tariq replied.
"Excellent. It puts a close to years of planning
and manipulating, and not a moment too soon." Mansour
said.
"Yes, you were to die in... Kedma was it? You've
done a lot since given that news."
"When an all-powerful altar tells you the date
of your death... you make waves to change it."
Mansour pauses as the main doors open. Raheem enters.
He seems to walk differently than he had, a bit slower
and less graceful. His eyes glowed a powerful red.
"And so it begins. Welcome Awena." Mansour
says with a bow.
* * *
Outside the Great Hall, Noura and Zarifa looked up
at the massive building.
"And how are we going to get up there?" Zarifa
asked.
"Fly," Noura answered matter-of-factly, as
she began to float upward. She reached down and took
Zarifa's hand and lifted the woman's body up so that
she could carry her easily. Zarifa was shocked by how
strong Noura was; she had thought her power was limited
to the fiery energy. Within seconds, they were both
engulfed with that same power, yellow-green in color
as it shot them into the air.
They slowed down when they reached the open windows
of the hall, through which Noura gracefully floated
inside.
Mansour took a number of light steps closer to his
altar, just to be sure it was safe. When he was close
to it, his worried face eased and his body calmed.
"Tariq, isn't it wonderful? All the pieces are
finally present. They are all finally mine. The endgame
is now upon us."
A long smile lines Mansour's face.
"This is going to be such fun."
==========================
Part XI - by cabralsoth
==========================
Kamali, the Almira of Atalaya sat for long moments
upon his steed. He looked out upon his army watching,
Rami breaking ranks racing towards Mansour's palace,
and contemplated his last words: "You are a crooked
old man, hope that your actions have not doomed us all..."
"What have I done indeed..." the Almira glanced
down at Feryal, a somber look etched upon his once proud
face. "Feryal... your beauty and grace had my heart
captive so long ago. We were so young and naive, you
and I. I loved you... and you me... but, I belonged
to another. I was the son of a Almira, a prince... to
wed a princess. But you, you were my desire. Now look
at us... me, an old fool... and you, a wretched witch...
murdered by my hands.
"I can only hope you haven't told Rami of the
truth... both of his origin, and of Noura's."
The Almira got off his horse and knelt beside the old
woman.
"Was it bad enough that Rami was sired out of
wedlock, and even worse that Noura was not of blood
of mine at all... That it would be your late husband,
Tehlal the Great Jeroen Mage, the mage responsible for
hiding the final piece of the triangle... be her father.
Only you and I knew the truth since his passing... Only
we knew that with the final splitting of the triangle,
that the final piece had been imbued within him, the
Key. That it was with his eyes and ears that sparked
the visions in Noura had thought were her own... That
thru Tehlal passing his seed to you that Noura had been
born, and the Key given life. Tehlal had sacrificed
himself in truth to protect his daughter... your daughter...
Noura."
Tears streamed down the man's once stoic face and fell
on his plate mail.
"Was it coincidence that you and my wife had become
pregnant at the same time? And was it the fates that
decided that my wife and child would never make it through?
You begged me to care for Noura as I did for Rami...
I did, knowing full well that i was misleading my people
in the truth of my true heir.... That was nearly 20
years ago, now here we are at our crossroads. Deep inside
I always knew we would never be, yet... somehow i always
wished it were so." The Almira stood up gazing
down at his once love, tears visibly running down. "Farewell
Feryal, may the Gods be with you."
"Sire, are we to continue our march at this moment?"
Asked his chief leuitenant.
"Yes, lets..." the Almira's voice trailed
off as he looked off into the distance. To the south
of them black and purple clouds swirled malevolently
in the skies above Mansour's palace. The Almira's entire
army stared in amazement at the spectacular events unfolding
before them. Almost as though it had been awaiting to
gather the attention of all within view, a pillar of
flame shot down from the center of the maelstrom, right
to the heart of Mansour's temple.
"For our women... for our children... for all
of Atalya..." the Almira bellowed, "CHARGE!"
The army charged forth, more than willing to sacrifice
all for their land, their families... and their Almira.
* * *
At first Mansour thought he had gone blind, all there
was, was light... inescapable light that pierced through
closed eyes like water thru sand. And the sound, deafening,
like that of a hundred sandstorms within his Great Hall.
"Jabir... Jabir... where are you...? What is happening?"
Mansour shrieked "Tell me what is going on... Jabir?"
"You are not blind, Mansour of the Shammara, son
of Yardan and Zarola."
"What....? Who are you...?" cried Mansour.
"We are the Light..."
"The light? What do you mean... " Mansour
began squinting as the light began to subside, his vision
slowly returning. he could see Jabir and a few of his
guard lying unconscious a few yards away. "I now
possess control of the..."
"YOU CONTROL NOTHING!"
Mansour was now able to see through to the center of
the storm in his room... where once stood the Altar
of Sulwyn, now sat a throne of fire, sitting atop it
Raheem, and straddling him Princess Noura. Their skin
had turned pure obsidian in color... their eyes glowing
brightly, changing hues every few seconds to every color
imaginable. Wind and fire danced provocatively all around
them as they looked into each others eyes, lust in every
way. Yearning to be one, once again... Raheem's hands
tracing the beautiful figure of Noura, while she lewdly
moves about on top Raheem, running her fingers over
his face and chest.
"It is We who have been controlling you, as well
as the others to get us back together again."
"What...!? That is preposterous.... you are a
tool, you are not alive."
"We have been alive since the dawn of your world."
"We are the bringers of Life and the Harbringers
of Death."
"Then why not just tell me where to find the other
relics? Why the need for a hunt?"
"The Jorean had placed a curse on Us , that We
may not be used to find the other."
"And what of the Shorans? how did they harness
your power?"
"We allowed the Shorans access to our powers...
they had the same desires as Us..."
"And what would that be?"
"...Death."
Mansour sat open-mouthed staring in disbelief... not
believing that he the king of lies had been underhanded
by what he thought of as a tool... a weapon to destroy
his enemies, instead he unknowingly opened the gates
to his own destruction as well.
Outside he heard his soldiers crying out orders to
prepare for battle, he could hear the thunderous stampede
of Almira Kamali's army surging through the valley to
his palace.
"Smile King Mansour of the Shammara, son of Yardan
and Zarola... you have a front row seat to the end of
your World."
==========================
Part XII - by zan
==========================
Rami, who had spent every ounce of strength to reach
Mansour's temple as quickly as possible, now cautiously
climbed the steps one at a time.
When he had ridden through Shammara and was in sight
of the temple, he realized something sobering. He would
be ill-prepared to fight his way in, and the odds would
be impossible; one prince of Atalaya versus the Shammaran
guard. His fiery, single-minded ambition to reach his
sister and prevent catastrophe was snuffed by reality.
He resolved to carry out his quest nonetheless, though
his pace did not quicken. He was met by an entirely
unexpected sight, however. The Shammaran guard were
numerous, to be sure, and well armored, with weapons
at hand enough to fight an incoming army.
But they were all dead.
Not dead from an attack, but simply slumped over, scattered
outside the temple entrance and within, fallen where
they had stood, no mark to show the cause. When Rami
had been riding over the hills and the temple obscured,
he had seen a brilliant flash, probably lightning from
the rainless storm that hung above the Shammaran kingdom.
Had the bolt killed all within the temple? Was his sister
dead, then, as well?
Or was this her doing?
He climbed the steps slowly.
* * *
King Mansour knelt in the Hall of Nadda, despite his
station, before the display in front of him. He had
known the joining of the three would produce a spectacle,
but never had he known it would be so terrible, so chilling.
He cursed himself for ever believing he, a mere man,
could harness such a force and utilize it. He feared
that his lesson for such hubris would be what the Triangle
seemed to love most of all.
Death.
When the fiery bolt had struck, and all has disappeared
from view, Mansour gradually realized that all within
the chamber, even throughout the entire temple -- somehow
he KNEW -- were dead. Jabir crouched stiff and wide-eyed
in the corner, staring at the throne and its entwined
residents through lifeless eyes. His entire guard had
toppled in a bloodless massacre.
And yet... he himself had survived.
Despite the despair the sight of the Triangle filled
him with, his ambition still lived, a tiny voice deep
within his mind. "Why would you not be spared,"
it whispered, "If not to control this awesome power?
Why should you fear when you have already been spared?"
Noura, a delicious and deadly smile on her lips as
Raheem tasted her neck, stared at Mansour. With longing?
An invitation?
Mansour slowly rose to his feet. Yes, he had been a
fool to cower now. Was this not the moment he had planned
for? Did he not know the ancient ways, the lore to use
to harness this great and terrible power?
"Ahmem sonah creatu dosrehm..." Mansour croaked,
his throat dry, struggling to remember the elusive words
from the book of the Kateb. Raheem stopped his lascivious
attentions and turned to watch Mansour as well. The
effect of those two pairs of unholy eyes on him made
Mansour stop dead, his mind blank.
"Y-you cannot defy the words," Mansour finally
stammered out, trying to convince himself as much as
they. "Ahmem sonah creatu dosrehm finai! Rakat
branai! The Triangle of Fiery light must..."
Mansour paused as another entered the chamber, a haggard
young man with familiar features. The brother.
Noura and Raheem turned their attention to the newcomer
and Mansour could tell the prince felt the same terror
in his bones that he had felt. At least before he'd
remembered he was meant for better things. Now he would
have a witness for his victory, as well. A Maja, no
less.
"Ahmem sonah creatu dos..."
Noura and Raheem suddenly burst into laughter. Mansour
had thought their icy stares unbearable, but hearing
their amusement was truly hideous. He collapsed to his
knees once again, trying unsuccessfully to block them
out by clamping his hands to his ears.
"Pathetic man," Raheem spat, lips still curled
in a smile.
"Predictable man," Noura agreed.
"Why else did you think you were spared, "
Noura's lover continued, as he extended a hand to the
new arrival, who began to approach, despite himself.
"But to witness your defeat?"
* * *
Rami found he could not keep still.
The two atop the brilliant, bejeweled throne were extraordinarily
lovely, bewitching, yet... the dread in his heart told
an entirely different story. His eyes saw his sister
and... the man extending a hand toward him looked familiar...
he was sure he had seen him in his father's house...
but they at once altogether inhuman.
An ache possessed him as his feet covered the distance
to the throne, and the lovers stood, Noura still resting
her hand upon the throne's mighty arm. Old King Mansour
had crumpled to the floor and was wailing. Rami, his
eyes wide and tears streaming from the heat, watched
Mansour with hideous fascination. The king had caught
fire, and made no protest as the unnatural flames burned
the skin from his body.
"You were meant to die a quick death in Kedma,
Mansour," Noura said sweetly. "But arrogance
such as yours could never go unpunished."
Rami knew not whether it took seconds, minutes or hours,
but the skin, the muscle, and finally the bones of the
old king burned. Rami could feel the life staying in
him the whole time, a blessing and a curse from the
Triangle, until finally his bones were blackened and
cooked into place, forever kneeling before the Triangle
of Fiery Light. The evil king would not be the recipient
of almighty power this day.
"With such a black heart such as yours,"
Rami remembered the words with a shudder as his fingertips
touched those of Raheem. "The Awena will turn to
evil things."
Not the evil king, but the evil prince, despite his
best intentions.
As Raheem grasped his hand firmly, and Noura held fast
to the throne, nearly invisible through the sheet of
unearthly green flames, the lovers' faces came together,
at last, for a single kiss.
Rami could not turn away, but he felt for the sword
at his side, the strange one his mother had given him,
and unsheathed it.
"When they kiss," his mother's voice echoed,
"fate and destiny break away for an instant, allowing
anyone to receive the power. To save all existence,
you must make sure it's not..."
Me, Rami thought, as he fell on the blade, pushing
the tip of the sword through his chest and into his
heart.
* * *
"Noooo!" Iyala wailed, sitting up bolt upright
in bed.
People burned alive, impaling themselves on swords,
thought Nadja, her teeth gritted. Gods, whoever brought
this tome into the palace library as a bedtime story
would know her displeasure.
"He can't die, Nadja!" the young girl cried,
breath coming to her in between sobs. "He was supposed
to save th-the world and now..."
"Child, hush," Nadja scolded. "You know
as well as I that he succeeded in his quest, or where
would the world be now, enh? Be a good girl and let
me finish. It's already well past your bedtime and the
queen will be cross with me if she finds out."
Iyala obediently wiped her face on her nightgown sleeve,
snuffled back the wetness in her nose and lay back down
on her bed.
"There, now," Nadja said, soothingly, and
continued reading. "Much better."
"As the life left him, a peculiar thing happened.
The flames whirling about the throne centered instead
on Rami's body, channeled through the metal of the blade.
The sword withdrew from his chest as he was lifted to
his feet once more by Noura and Raheem, and the wound
sealed itself, leaving a terrible scar."
"See, you silly thing," Nadja interrupted
herself. "Have a little faith."
"Rami's eyes now also burned with the fire of
the Triangle as the three figures clasped hands, joining
one final time. The spirit of the Altar of Sulwyun had
entered him, just as the Awena lived in Raheem and the
final piece always lay inside Noura. All three pieces
were joined with human hosts, and all once more could
see the folly of the pursuit of death."
"'Let us away, now,' said he who was once Raheem,
and the other two agreed without speaking. The pillar
of fire that had come down from the heavens returned
from whence it came, pulling the terrible power from
the bodies of the three, leaving them still encircled
on the floor of the Great Hall, sleeping the sleep of
the just..."
"And then Noura and Raheem were married and had
Ramira, who married Jonas and had Quinina..." squealed
Iyala, rattling off a dozen more ancestors' names, "...who
married Hayburn and had me!"
"...and Rami went forth in solitude to change
the course of his life, yes." Nadja said, closing
the book.
"Did it really happen that way, Nadja?" the
young princess asked her nanny. "And what happened
with Rami? Why did he never come back? Is he still out
there somewhere? Did the army of Atalaya take over Mansour's
kingdom?"
"As long as there are questions, there are always
more tales, little one," Nadja said, pulling up
the sheets and giving her a kiss on the forehead. "But
not when it's time for bed." She stood and took
the candle with her to the doorway.
"Tomorrow night, then?" asked Iyala, the
thrill of the adventure wearing off, leaving her drowsy,
after all.
"Tomorrow night," Nadja promised, and closed
the door.
THE END. |
