Jalliele'Brea woke up with by far the worst headache she had ever had. Groaning softly, she gingerly sat up in the bed and gently tried to ease the pain from her temples.
“Here, drink this.”
Turning her head to find the source of the cheerful voice, the Silvite had to fight down a wave of pain and nausea. She would have slumped back to the bed, but a slender arm wrapped behind her shoulders and held her up while a bottle was pressed to her lips. She almost gagged at the bitter taste, but with a little effort managed to empty the bottle. Thankfully, her headache faded rapidly, allowing her to open her eyes again and find the owner of the voice and the arm holding her up, a deeply tanned woman with short brown hair, dressed in an orange and yellow suit. “Who are you?”
The tanned woman grinned as she introduced herself. “I’m Six, one of Admiral Fauntelroy’s wives. What’s your name?”
“Jalliele'Brea.” After several seconds of Six trying to pronounce her name Jelliele smiled and decided to go easy on the poor woman. “You can call me Archon if you like.”
Relieved, Six nodded and stood up off the bed. “It’s lucky you woke up when you did, because High Elder Sherisha just arrived and she wants to talk to you.”
Archon’s amused expression turned to confusion when she heard that. “High Elder Sherisha?”
Nodding happily, Six explained. “Yep, High Elder Sherisha. She’s the ruler of Valua and leader of the wererats. Now hurry and get dressed, there are guards outside waiting to take you to her.” Six pointed out Archons clothing, folded neatly on the dresser, before she strolled out of the room.
Archon briefly considered trying to escape, but quickly discarded the idea. There was only one exit to the room, and she had no idea where she was, let alone how to escape. Resigning herself to her captivity for the time being, Archon began pulling on her clothes.
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Six closed the door behind her and bounded over to her co-wife. “She’s awake and getting dressed, Thirty-Eight.”
The purple haired and clothed wurm glared at the young drake. “My name is Jane, and If you had any real Draconic pride you’d also pick a proper name for yourself.”
Six pouted slightly. “I like ‘Six’. I don’t want another name.”
Rolling her eyes, Jane decided to turn the conversation to a less inane topic. “Besides the expected headache, did she have any other problems? Sherisha may be older than even Fauntelroy, but she has no patience for prisoners unless they’re well behaved or have been tortured into submission.”
Becoming somewhat sombre at the thought of the suffering that was in store for the nice Silvite if she didn’t cooperate, Six shook her head. “No, she’s fine. At least, she didn’t complain about any pain once she drank the potion, and she looked alright.”
A knocking at the door cut off any further conversation, and Six opened the door after a pointed look from Jane. “Are you ready to go?”
Archon nodded reluctantly. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
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In a vast palatial hall a slender, older brunette woman sat in an ornate throne. Dressed in an elegant but simple suit, the tanned woman sat patiently with her hands folded in her lap. Behind her and to her right stood a man of equal age, with paler skin and receding grey hair. He too was dressed in a simple but elegant suit, his grey to her black, and both hands sat upon an elaborately crafted walking stick.
The two had been waiting in silence for quite a time. It was a game the two of them had been playing for centuries. They would sometimes spend five, six hours just sitting perfectly still and in total silence, testing each other’s patience, waiting eagerly for the slightest loss of control from the other. In a way it summed up their ‘relationship’ perfectly, constantly testing each other’s limits, constantly challenging each other’s power. One sought to strengthen her control; the other sought nothing less than the brutal death of his accursed Mistress.
The door at the other end of the hall opened suddenly; a common end to their ‘game.’ Gothwrain easily recognised the two lesser dragons, but like Fauntelroy, he considered them unimportant in the grand scheme of things. The girl between them, on the other hand, was of great importance. Gothwrain took note of the vaguely feline features and the distinct lack of tail, a sure sign of either a really pissed off werecat or a Silvite. Idly running his eyes over the rest of her form, he analysed her figure, slender and curved in the right places. Fit but not overly muscular. Elegant and graceful movements, but not enough to show skill as a fighter. The fine but practical clothing was the sign of a traveller of noble or magical background. Opening his senses to the flow of magic he revised his earlier guess; no real magical training, but the potential was there. What was truly interesting was the tiara. He couldn’t place the energy coming from it, and though there was a significant amount stored within he wouldn’t have been able to sense it if it weren’t for his vast experience. Bringing his inspection back to the woman, he finished his evaluation with a quick glance at her face. Beautiful, if you liked the furred look, with luxurious dark red hair tied back in a ponytail reaching past her waist.
By now the small group had walked the fifty meters to stand in front of the raised platform where the two Elders waited. Sherisha adopted a pleasant expression as she stood to greet the new arrival. “My dear girl, it’s good to see you back among the conscious world! First, I must apologise for my servant’s unprovoked attack upon you.” The female Elder gave a frustrated sigh before continuing. “I had asked my fleet to invite any Silvites they meet to come to my palace, and to escort any that accepted my offer. It seems young Spellvis has been taking my orders a little too seriously again.” She blinked, then seemed a little embarrassed. “Forgive me, I got a little ahead of myself. I am High Elder Sherisha, and this is my advisor Gothwrain.”
Despite feeling more than a little uncomfortable, Archon bowed politely. “I am Jalliele'Brea, of the Silver Civilization.” Introductions made, the Silvite decided to ask the first question. “Why do you want to talk to a Silvite? And how do you even know of us? After so long, the Silver Civilisation must be all but forgotten by the people of Jade.”
Smiling gently, Sherisha answered without hesitation. “It has recently come to my attention that a number of ancient artefacts called ‘Moon Crystals’ are scattered across Jade. These crystals are dangerously powerful, even more so if they are used to activate the Gigas.” Ignoring the surprise that crossed the Silvites face, the wererat continued. “In order to prevent these artefacts from being turned against the general population of Jade, I intend to have them recovered and brought to Valua, where the full might of my nation can be devoted to their protection.”
Archon’s mind was reeling. ‘How can they possibly know of the Gigas?! They were all hidden away when the great civilisations fell!’
Gothwrain smiled at her shock and confusion, and guessed at its probable source. “You are no doubt wondering how we know of the Gigas, when the Silver Civilisation so thoroughly concealed them all those thousands of years ago.” He pulled of his glasses and absently polished them while speaking. “It’s quite simple really. Some people survived the Fall and passed on stories of the Gigas to their ancestors, who now know of them only as mythical gods. Over the years more than one Gigas has been found, even if the means to activate them hasn’t.” He replaced his glasses on his face before he finished. “It is really only a matter of time before the crystals are found by someone, and there is no guarantee that they will do the right thing. Such power is easily abused, after all.”
Nodding in agreement, Archon acknowledged the point. “I agree that the crystals are too dangerous to simply hide. That is, in fact, the reason I have been sent to Jade. I am to recover the crystals and transport them back to the Silver Civilisation, where they can never be used to harm the people of this world.”
“Then perhaps we can help each other. You know where the crystals are, and Valua has the resources at hand to recover them. Together we shall make Jade a safer place for all sentient beings.”
Archon briefly considered the offer, but in the end decided to decline. Despite their peaceful and polite exterior, the ‘vibes’ her artefacts were picking up from the people before her were making her skin crawl. “I am afraid I must decline your gracious offer of assistance. My ship should have everything I need to recover the crystals, and I would prefer not to risk the lives of your people unnecessarily.”
Sherisha nodded, a little downcast. “Very well. If you believe you are up to the task I will not delay you any longer. Thirty-Eight, Six, escort Jalliele'Brea to the docks, where her ship is moored, and make sure she is given any supplies she needs for her voyage.” When they nodded she turned to Archon. “Feel free to return at any time, my dear.
Jalliele thanked her for her kindness, and soon the Silvite was being led to the docks. Once the group had left the room the wererat Elder had the door sealed before she addressed Gothwrain. “What is the current status of the girls ship?”
“The technicians have already begun to pull it apart and examine the components within. They believe they may have a firm enough understanding of it’s working to have similar technology installed in various sections of…the Prototype.”
“Good. Have some of your agents tail the Silvite to make sure nothing goes wrong, then call Fauntelroy and tell him to pick up the girl at the docks. I don’t care what he does, but I want everything that girl knows about the Moon Crystals and Gigas sifted through, summarized, and on my desk in two weeks. It could drastically cut down on the amount of time we spend searching for the artifacts.” She sat back down in her throne. “Is there anything else that needs to be handled?”
The male Elder gave it a moment of thought before answering. “We still need an Admiral for our new fleet. Fauntelroy has suggested his Vice-Captin for the position.”
Sherisha’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Don’t you think he’s a little young?”
Her slave snorted in amusement. “Lord Talon isn’t old enough to shave, but he seems to have gotten his hands on a fleet.”
The woman chuckled softly. “Indeed. Very well, tell Fauntelroy to find himself a new Vice-Captain, because we’re stealing the old one and making an Admiral out of him.”
Gothwrain bowed. “Very well, Mistress.”
As he turned to leave Sherisha took a final parting shot. “Hearing you call me that never gets old…Iceron.”
His only reply was to pause briefly before going about his assigned task.
Left alone in the room, Sherisha marveled at how easy her path to world domination had been so far. But no matter what else she may be, she was first and foremost a realist. She knew she would run into problems sooner or later, all she could do was wait and try and minimize the damage.
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(Posted Sun, 21 Nov 2004 18:52)
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