I am really excited to post this. This story has been in my head for a few years... I first wrote Defender of the Throne in August of 2002. I hope you enjoy...



Title: Defender of the Throne

Author: Reyjawk

Rating: PG!

Summary: This story is an introduction to a world that has been in my head for a long time. The world is Uraun. The capital planet of the Uraunian Empire. I typed this up in Word where I could have foot notes. I dont think the footnotes will transfer well. I will see what I can do about that.



Story Notes: I am sorry but the foot notes did not transfer. If anyone is interested I would be more than happy to send it to them in word. It is easier to understand with the foot notes. Sorry! Also I tried to space it out so it is easier to read. So the paragraphs dont quite match what is in Word.



Feed Back: Yes! I would love to know what ya'll think. Be Gentle...



Defender of the Throne Part I

********************************************

The sound of gentle splashing and soft music could be heard coming from the bathing room. Tarah Montraun was humming along with the current innocuous tune that the FreTran was playing incessantly. She chuckled when she thought of the lecture she would get from her aunts if they heard her listening to the popular youth music rather than the sacred hymns for her Kar’Nyn . Tarah decided she could take some liberties and just enjoy lounging in the large oval tub.

She dipped her head under the water and ran her hands through her long hair. That was a rarity to have her hair free and loose. Usually it was kept in long braids befitting an adolescent Uraunian. The front and sides were almost always braided with ribbons denoting her family honors and scripture passages. These were her honor braids. These honor braids were a part of an intricate and ancient system. At this moment in time, though, Tarah was not thinking of the Haikana honor system, she was simply enjoying the tactile sensation of a hot bath.



As she was running her hands through her long hair, she suddenly thought of the braids she would lose. Today she would leave the world of childhood and take her first steps into adulthood by symbolically having her left and right honor braids cut. After her braids were cut, she would assume the full role of an Uraunian adult and would then be required to earn her own honor. There was an additional burden she would assume today, the defense of the throne of Uraun . Today she would be crowned Defender of the Throne. It was all happening so fast. Her Kar’Nyn ceremony and being crowned Heir-apparent to her mother, the Empress Enid IX , may Sa’Hara bless her. Tarah was only sixteen years old. She just wanted to go to the Imperial Naval Academy next semester and have a normal school life, but she knew she had other responsibilities.



Responsibility. Sometimes, Tarah hated that word. She had heard it enough growing up. There was always something she couldn’t do, say, or have because of responsibilities. She was constantly being told that these were her burdens for the privilege of being heir to the Jade throne of Uraun. Once, when she was eight years old she had dared to ask, “Why she had to be burdened when she didn’t choose to be the heir. And, how privileged was she if she couldn’t do what she wanted?” It had seemed to be a perfectly reasonable question, but one that was answered with a resounding slap across her face for blasphemy. If she had been older, her governess had informed her, she would have been paddled. Instead she had spent the rest of the afternoon copying passages from the Illian, with no dinner.

The no dinner had been added on, when in a moment of insight that the young Tarah thought clinched the rightness of her cause had pointed out to her governess that the Prophet Arian’ha, may her name always bless our lips, had gotten to choose her destiny therefore earned her burdens but poor Tarah had not chosen hers and therefore could not be held to the same standard. This statement earned her a second and harder slap plus going to bed without dinner. She remembered how that slap had stung the rest of the night. The welt on her face disappeared within a few minutes but the one on her pride stayed long after. To Tarah’s eight-year-old mind it had seemed a sound argument. Tarah brought her warm soft hand out of the water and unconsciously rubbed her face while mentally replaying that old argument. As a matter of fact to Tarah’s now sixteen-year-old mind it still seemed a sound argument.



“Responsibilities…” Tarah sighed.



She would think about that later, right now she was just enjoying the music and the hot bath. It was childish but she knew soon enough that her aunts and cousins would be here to begin the preparations for the ceremonies. Today Tarah Montraun would become Tarah III Defender of the Throne for Enid IX of the Montraun dynasty in the third age. Tarah repeated “Tarah III” over and over to herself trying out the sound of the words. As she idly watched one of the lavender scented candles bobbing up and down in the warm water. Tarah thought it amazing that the flame stayed lit while surrounded by water, with only a small ring to keep it afloat. Her restless mind drifted to how the flame represented faith in Sa’Hara and the water was the chaos of the universe forever trying to snuff out the light of Sa’Hara. The Ilian speaks of a miracle that took place during a gale when a single candle stayed lit to guide some pilgrims to safety showing that nothing can stop Sa’Hara’s light from burning . “Will I lose my way?” Tarah asked herself out loud. “Will I be over turned?”

“Taraahh!” came the shrill call of her aunts from the other room. Startled out of her reverie, Tarah brought her hand down with a splash; she accidentally caused the candle to turn over, extinguishing its flame.





Tarah came out of the bathing room with a towel wrapped around her. She nervously stood in the doorway, staring like a plains rabbit caught in a trap. Her cautious eyes surveyed the room. Apparently, every female relative she had was crammed into her small sleeping quarters. All of her aunts were here plus several of her cousins. If she had any sisters, they would have been here, too. Thinking of siblings made her suddenly wish Taran were here. He was her twin brother. At least she could take solace in knowing that he was somewhere just as miserable as she was about to be. It was almost cruel, Tara thought, to go from that nice hot bath to sitting in on uncomfortable stool not being able to move for several hours while her relatives preened her.



The only one missing from the tableau was her mother. Tarah was both happy and disappointed at the same time. She wanted her mother there, but she knew they would end up fighting. Tarah had been told many times that she had a talent for saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. Combine that with a spontaneous sarcastic streak and that made for volatile exchanges between her and her mother. For a long time now it seemed as though whenever her mother spoke to her it was in a tone full of reproach. Enid always seemed disappointed in Tarah. Tarah was nervous enough without having to hear the almost daily lecture on duty and responsibility.



Tarah hated those lectures because first she thought her mother obviously didn’t notice how responsible she already was. Her aversion to them was also based on fear. Fear that the reason for the lectures was that one-day her mother would not be there. That was an inevitable fact that Tarah spent many waking hours denying. How could her mother Enid IX ever die? Enid had such a strong presence; she dominated every setting she was in. She had reigned for over 35 years. Enid was crowned when she was just eight years old. The idea of this dominating, vibrant, personality suddenly ceasing was terrifying. So Tarah decided to focus on being aggravated with what she perceived as her mothers nagging.



Tarah brought her attention back to the dozen eager eyes upon her. “Well, come here child. Lets get started. You want to catch your death on your anointing day? And turn off that dreadful music. Humph…” her great aunt said with a quick shake of her head causing her long gray braids to twitch with impatience. “Yes, Yes, lets get started,” a murmur of agreement went through the crowd. Tarah solemnly walked over to them. Might as well get going she thought. She was at their mercy now. Tradition stated that she should be dressed and braided by her female relatives while reciting scripture. They would braid special ribbons with her family crest, history, honors, and most important Holy Scripture inscribed on them. Tarah had already chosen the passages that she wanted. As they were braided in, the passages were recited and some hymns were sung. The whole preparation process could take several hours. She would be clothed in a Sajj . Tarah was not looking forward to wearing the Sajj. It was terribly uncomfortable and she never knew what to do with her hands.



There was a tap on the door, and then it opened to reveal a very pretty woman in her middle years with long, black hair in braids down to her waist. She was not particularly tall, but somehow she seemed to fill the doorway. Everyone of Tarah’s relatives instantly stopped what she was doing and bowed. Even Tarah bowed while awkwardly trying to hold her towel in place. “Ja’Kara Mien ” was whispered reverently. Enid IX bowed her head slightly in acknowledgement and then shut the door behind her. “Come now, we are family. On this day more than ever, I think.” “My firstborn daughter is about to become a woman. This is a time for joy, not standing on form.” Enid said calmly. She flashed a warm smile that lit up her ocean blue eyes. It was a smile that would make everyone in the room feel as though she smiled for her.



“However, I would like to speak with my daughter in private. Can you all come back in about an hour?” It was phrased as a question, but she left no doubt to the answer.

“Of course, Ja’Kara Mien” was murmured in reply.

As her relatives filed out of the room, they gave her encouraging pats on the arm. All to quickly, the bustling was replaced by a glaring silence. Empress and subject, mother and daughter regarded one another, neither knowing what to say. Finally, Enid said, “I see they started combing your hair.”

“We are going to have to hurry up a bit if we are to be on time.” Enid finished quickly.



Oh no, Tarah thought, here it comes, the lecture. She steeled herself and figured she might as well get it over with. “Ja’kara” she began but was cut off by Enid.



“Tar…None of that. Maman, for that is what I am right now. Your mother.” Enid nervously glanced around the room, uncomfortable with the display of affection. Enid fixed her glance on the combs as if they were wondrous items she had never seen before. She grabbed one and hesitantly walked over to Tarah. She carefully reached up and starting combing the thick dark mane. Tarah did not know what to make of her mothers behavior. Her mother was almost timid.

She had expected her mother to come in at the end of the preparations and take command while lecturing her on the role she was about to assume. Instead her mother was slightly, almost reverently combing her hair and parting it for the braids.



Then Tarah heard her mother start to lightly sing. It was a child’s hymn Tarah had not heard her mother sing since she was a small girl of seven or eight. It was a song about a butterfly. After a moment Tarah found herself joining in quietly. Time seemed to stop. For a brief moment there was no empire to run, no destiny to fulfill. There was only a mother and daughter beginning a sacred ritual of life. In this brief respite Tarah was the child they both needed her to be.

Enid poured love into each stroke and note. Enid allowed herself this luxury because she knew all to well the price the universe was going to exact on her beautiful, strong, yet vulnerable daughter.



Enid was combing her daughter’s hair when the other women came back into the room. She managed to laugh and sing with them. This was supposed to be a happy time. Enid hoped she appeared happy on the outside, at least. Of course she was filled with joy and gratitude for the beautiful, headstrong daughter Sa’Hara had given her. But her thanksgivings were tinged with bitterness. Because she knew how her daughter would suffer and how her people were soon to suffer.



Sa’Hara wills it and it is done. She repeated over to herself. Trying to find comfort in this mantra but couldn’t, it seemed so hollow. Why? She kept asking why now, why her children?



Her hands were braiding automatically now as she mentally drifted back to when everything had changed. She remembered her pregnancy as a time of intense joy and fear. She had always wanted to have children. The fact that she had actually grown to love the man she took as a husband made her want children even more. She knew it was her duty to provide an heir but more than that, she wanted to create life with Jared . The night she found out she was pregnant, she had a dream that forever tainted her happiness with her children.



To this day, almost seventeen years later, she could vividly recall the dream. Every detail. She had been in a stone temple with a large cavernous room in the middle of it. There were two small pillars in the middle of a circle of fire. Within that circle there was a baby lying on top of each pillar. The fire was low and smoldering but when Enid tried to approach the infants, the fire flared up not letting her through to them. Then she suddenly found herself kneeling before two statues of Etrean and Ethon . Only they weren’t statues made of stone, they appeared to be people, frozen and still. There was something wrong with the statues faces. They’d been carved wrong, she thought. The statues didn’t have the vague facial features that artists usually used to represent the two idols. Because no one really knows what Etrean and Ethon looked like, they were usually carved to represent the feminine and masculine aspects of Uraunians. But these two had been carved in far greater detail. So much detail that when she looked at them, Enid experienced a feeling of familiarity. She knew them. But who were they? Enid noticed that they had Jared’s chin and forehead but her eyes and hair. The realization that these were her children had hit Enid like a physical blow. Something was terribly wrong though, she thought. First of all, the girl was carrying a sword rather than the traditional representation with the staff. A dripping noise drew Enid’s eyes to a dark pool forming on the stone floor. It was blood and Enid drew back in horror when she saw that the blood was coming from the, very real, sword. Enid studied the face of the girl and saw a look of both determination and fear. Enid turned her attention to the statue of the boy, who was holding a staff, but it was broken and he was weeping.



Enid had woken up at that point, crying. Jared had demanded to know what the dream was about. She didn’t want to tell him for she knew it wasn’t just a dream. This had been a vision. Jared had tried to pass it off as nerves but she knew better than that. The next morning, she sent for her advisor from the Sha’Une . It was then that it was decided that it was better kept secret because of the obvious inference that could be applied if this was the truth. Enid knew of several prophecies speaking of the coming of a new age. That Etrean and Ethon were to come again and reshape Uraun, and this was said to be the sign of many dark days ahead for the world and its people. If Sa’Hara were willing, Uraun would make it through those days but would be greatly changed by the return of the children of the prophet. Enid knew that change would mean that there would be much suffering for her people and her children. She desperately wanted to believe that it wasn’t true. But when she had it confirmed that she was carrying twins she’d felt a cold feeling of dread. She’d known that she should have been honored and happy that she and Jared had been chosen to fulfill part of this prophecy but all she could think about were her two innocent little babies who knew nothing of visions and destiny. But like her, they had been chosen to enact this play and no one, not even the Empress of Uraun could stop what Sa’Hara had written.



Enid had hoped that she could delay it, though. She had decided that Tarah would not be crowned Defender of the Throne until after she was through the Academy, had her commission, and was married. Enid thought Jared could go on doing the symbolic rituals until Tarah was at least in her thirties and had her a taste of real life. She wanted to give her daughter at least a few years of normalcy. She knew from the prophecies that the anointing of Tarah would play a key part in setting the future in motion. However Haran, her advisor, had come to her and said that Gera, may Sa’Hara bless her, had determined that Tarah needed to be anointed as soon as possible. Gera had been very cryptic when Enid had demanded to know why. Saying only, “Sa’hara wills it.” Even the Empress could not dispute Gera the wise .



“Sa’Hara Wills It,” the women chanted around Enid as they finished braiding Tarah’s honor braids.



Enid stepped back from her daughter, choking on tears and said “If Sa’Hara wills it, so it shall be.” Sa’Hara be with you, my daughter, Enid thought as she lifted the veil to cover Tarah’s hair and kissed her daughter one more time.



“I have to go. I will not be able to see you until afterwards. Your father and I love you and are very proud of you.”



Tarah reached out and hugged her mother whispering “Thank you, maman. I love you.”



After a moment, Enid broke the embrace, looked at her daughter and turned to walk out while repeating to herself, “Sa’Hara wills it. It is done.”



“It sounds like the ocean” Olin’s voice was the only sound in the anteroom. Tarah was dressed in her sajj waiting for the summons to begin the ceremony. She was nervously pacing back and forth. Her two brothers were, uncomfortably, waiting with her. They were both dressed in fine, heavy robes, and had all of their hair tied in thick honor braids. Taran, her younger brother by three minutes, was intently watching her pace back and forth. He was unconsciously twirling his right honor braid in his hand. Tarah recognized it as a nervous habit of his from their childhood. She wondered how he would handle losing his braids. His Kar’Nal ceremony would be in a week. The Kar’Nyn ceremony for girls was held during the full moon of the birth month in the sixteenth year. The Kar’Nal ceremony for boys was held during the new moon of the birth month in the sixteenth year. Was he jealous of her Tarah wondered. No, she decided, not Taran. She knew his gaze held only love and worry for her. He was like her masculine mirror. They shared the same features with different dimensions. She stopped pacing when she heard Olin’s ocean comment.



Olin was her youngest brother. He was getting restless with all of the standing around they had been forced to endure. He had been excited at first by all the people and nice clothes and attention but then he realized his part mainly consisted of waiting. At eleven years old, Olin was not a good waiter plus his head was starting to hurt from the weight of his braids too. Though Olin was tired of waiting, he couldn’t understand his sister’s nervousness. To him, she should be happy. She was going to be crowned Defender of The Throne! She was going to get a sword! To Olin this was a great thing indeed. He thought Tarah should be happy that she was about to be sanctioned a hero.



Taran however was not as naïve as Olin. He realized there was more to it than a sword and cape. He knew the role his sister was about to assume and it frightened him.



“Hush Olin! Or you won’t get to walk out with us. I will make you go sit with the Aunties.” Taran said fiercely.



“You can’t make me do anything Taran! Its Tarah’s day and she is in charge. Hmm!” Olin shot back in his most whiny voice.



“Olin!” Tarah started, exasperated, and then sighed when she saw the hurt look Olin flashed her. He really didn’t mean to be aggravating. He couldn’t understand why she was upset.



“You are right, it does sound like the ocean.” Tarah whispered softly. A hungry ocean, she thought to herself. What are they hungry for? Were they really going to pay attention enough to judge her fitness to rule? Or did they just want a good show? She glanced over at Taran and smiled tightly.



He smiled back, somehow following her line of thinking. “They just want the ceremony to start, Tar,” he said quietly.



“Me too” whined Olin. Tarah sighed, looking into her own eyes reflecting back at her in Taran. They could often tell what the other was thinking. When they were little, they had their own language and really their own world. They were so alike yet so different. Tarah was impulsive and sarcastic. Taran was thoughtful and shy. Tarah preferred mathematics and science studies with problems she could solve using nice theorems. Tarah hated open-ended problems. She some how felt they were cheating her. Taran loved language and literature. He thought things out before he said them. They complimented each other, they always had. Yet here they were about to impart on separate journeys. They both seemed adrift like a boat with only one ore. Tarah knew some day when she was crowned empress, many years from now with Sa’Hara’s blessing, Taran would be her defender. She couldn’t imagine anyone else she would trust more.



“Dahhnnng….Dahhhnnng” the summons, thought Tarah as her head flew up at the sound of the bells tolling.



“Ja’kara it is time” came the voice of an anxious courtier.



Taran walked over and hugged his sister then caught her anxious gaze. For the last time he looked at her as an equal.



“Go my sister, May Sa’Hara bless you.” “Tarsha” he said using his childhood nickname for her, “You will do well, as you always do.” Then he kissed her on the forehead.



“Thank you Tarnie.” She turned from him and walked towards the summoning bells and bustling crowd, away from her childhood, towards her destiny. She lifted her head up and walked through the stadium arch proud to proclaim that she was Tarah Trenaud Montraun soon to be Tarah III of Uraun!



Tarah walked slowly down the aisle in between two seas of people. The roar of the crowd was like thunder on a distant wave. She felt the noise of the crowd in her stomach before she actually heard it. They were making the ground shake beneath her feet. The crowd was humming with expectation of something spectacular. Tarah felt as though she was in danger of being swallowed up by the throngs of people chanting Sa’Hara Mandu ! Enid! Enid! Sa’Hara wills it so!



Tarah was concentrating so hard on putting one foot in front of the other that at first she didn’t consciously notice the whispers. It was like a buzzing in the background. Finally, her mind was able to distinguish the whispers from the chants. A cold voice was whispering “Death to the traitor” “Tarah the Terror” “Death to the abominations!” The voice seemed to be coming from a dozen places at once. Tarah quickly looked around trying to see the source of the menace. But all she saw was cheering faces and waving hands. There were so many people, she couldn’t make out individual features it was a sea of braids, mouths, and hair. She kept walking forward. It was a trick of her mind she thought. It just had to be. As she approached the platform all she could hear was “Tarah the Terror!” “Sa’Hara Mandu! Sa’Hara Demands it, the Sacrifice.” Tarah felt nauseous as the bone chilling revelation was processed by her mind. She was the sacrifice! “Sa’Hara Wills It So” chanted the crowd.



Tarah walked upon the platform. The cold stone burnt like ice beneath her bare feet. She was shivering from the cold. She turned towards the representatives of the Sha’une and bowed all the way to the ground. This was a show of supplication to Sa’Hara. It was a lesson in humility, too, because wearing the scarce sajj meant she could not concern herself with dignity. Complete submission to Sa’Hara’s will was demanded at all times. She then turned towards the parliament leaders, bowing, after which she turned towards the Jade throne and prostrated herself again, but this time she stayed down. Her forehead was pressed against the cold stone. Her arms were held out in front of her with her palms up while her knees were tucked up under her body. It was a very uncomfortable position, especially with the scarce Sajj. Tarah’s outstretched arms began to shake from the cold and stress. Tarah’s mind and body waged a brief war for control. Her mind won out for the moment. She was able to still her arms but then her teeth began to chatter. She was praying to Sa’Hara that she would be able to say her lines when the time came.



The Sha’une, the parliament, and the throne represented the triangle of Uruanian life and government. So by performing this formality Tarah was showing her complete submission to Sa’Hara, the Throne, and the Parliament.



Her mother, the Empress Enid IX stood up slowly. The cheers from the crowd suddenly ceased. Tarah found herself wanting that noise back, the quiet was almost unbearable. She strained her ears for the whispers but they had apparently stopped. Enid stood there for a minute, a picture of beauty and authority.



“Sa’Hara, all powerful and just, may you have mercy on us!” She called out in a clear voice. “We are here to accept the one who has been called to defend the holy empire of Uraun and who will, if Sa’Hara wills it, one day serve the Uraunian people. Let this one come before us and be judged by the people and by Sa’Hara above, below, and in between.”



The crowd erupted in a roar of “Sa’Hara Mandu!”



Tarah slowly stood up and walked over to her mother who was standing in front of the jade throne. She stopped, three paces in front of the empress. She kept her head bowed the whole time.



“Who is this in front of us?” Enid asked, speaking her part in the formality play.



“I am the one who has been called. My Empress.” Tarah responded in script.

“Do you Serve Sa’Hara?”

“With my mind, body, and soul.”

“Do you serve the jade throne of Uraun?”

“With my mind, body, and soul.”

“Do you serve the people of the Uraunian Empire?”

“With my mind, body, and soul.” At the beginning of the questions the crowd went quiet again, but upon the last question’s answer it burst into another round of cheers.

“Come here and kneel so that you may receive your burden.”



Enid motioned for Tarah to come forward. Tarah knelt before the empress, still keeping her head bowed. As she knelt she began to shake slightly. Two Sha’Une attendants came up and removed the white veil covering her hair. Tarah’s long braids dangled loosely in front of her down turned eyes. They hypnotically swayed in front of her. The empress lifted Tarah’s head with a finger under her chin. Jared bowed and handed Enid a plain steel sword. Enid took the sword in her right hand while her left hand reached out and grabbed Tarah’s right honor braid.



“With the Sword of Ethon, son of Arian’Ha we bind you to the holy throne of Uraun, may you always defend it from harm.” Enid carefully brought the sword down to cut the braid.

As the first braid was cut, Tarah’s mind was seared by a vision. She was standing in a field of bodies with a bloody sword in her hand. The bodies looked to be Uraunian civilians, her people… Tarah sharply inhaled and opened her eyes. She met the intense stare of the Empress. She knows something, thought Tarah. She shot her mother a questioning, pleading glance, asking her to stop, to let her go back to just being a sixteen-year-old girl. However, Enid just shook her head very slowly because at this moment she was not a mother to a frightened child but the Empress of Uraun. As too often in the past, that must come first.

Enid cut the second braid on Tarah’s right side. Tarah’s head jerked back as the braid was cut. She could see her mother’s lifeless body. People were kneeling before her. She felt the crown on her head piercing her skin and her eyes were stinging with tears and blood. She looked at her hands, covered in blood.



“What am I to become?” Tarah whispered in horror.



Finis



Toni



Glossary of Terms:

FreTran – Frequency Transmitter, a device used to transmit audio and video.



Kar’Nyn – Ceremony performed to proclaim a young Uraunian girl is now an Adult. The ceremony is usually performed when the girl turns sixteen. The Kar’Nal is the ceremony for boys.



Haikana – The intricate system in which braids and ribbons are used to detail a person’s honor.



Uraun – Third planet in the Sar system. The Sar system consists of six planets only the third is habitable. Uraun is the center for the Uraunian Empire government. The empire consists of five systems with a total of nine planets. The empire is located in a corner of a spiral galaxy.



Empress Enid IX – Current ruler of the Uraunian Empire.



Sa’Hara – The Uraunian Deity. Usually represented as female.



Ilian- Holy Scripture of Uraun. Contains religious scripture, parables, and the Haikar or the law.



Miracle of Frenon’s point, 1568 the first age.



A Sajj consisted of three white articles of clothing made up of two small wraps to go around her waist and chest, to cover her modesty, and a long white veil to cover her hair



Ja’Kara Mien – My Lady



Jared Trenaud – Consort of Enid IX, Father of Tarah, Taran, and Olin, Current Defender of the Throne.



Etrean and Ethon – Twin offspring of the Prophet Arian’ha who went on to found the religion centered on the Prophets teachings of Sa’Hara. Etrean represents wisdom and knowledge, the female aspect of life. Ethon represents strength and struggle, the male aspect of life.



Sha’Une – is the religious body of Uraun.



Gera – The current leader of the holy order of the prophet Arian’ha and hence the religious leader of the Uruanian empire. 3504 – 3560 of the 5th age.



Sa’Hara Mandu – God is Great.

"Take this cup away, for I dont want to drink its poison..." JC Superstar

Edited by: reyjawk at: 4/20/03 4:26:16 pm

Excellent story! When will the next chapter appear?

Chris





"I may be love's bitch, but at least I'm man enough to admit it." Spike

Very interesting! Already in the first part you've developed a lot and communicated a lot about Uraun.



I can't wait for the next part.

~La



What is the difference between a drunk and a stoner?

The drunk will drive through a stop sign while the stoner will wait for it to turn green.

Toni!

I'm so glad you posted this here! I've really enjoyed what I've gotten to read of this story so far. I do like it better with the footnotes however, and I wonder if there isn't some way to encapsulate them in the text?

I like how rich and detailed this story is. It envokes such strong images. When are you posting part 2?

Laney

Thanks for your comments! I am going to post Part II probably this week sometime. I will see if I can encapsulate the foot notes. I have to get started on Part III. I have a midterm this Wednesday maybe after that...



I added a glossary of terms after Part I. I will post Part II this week.



Thanks again!



Toni

"Take this cup away, for I dont want to drink its poison..." JC Superstar

Edited by: reyjawk at: 4/20/03 4:27:21 pm

PART II

        Thump. Thump. ‘That sound, what is that sound?’ Tarah kept asking herself. It sounded like distant thunder, but was too precise and repetitive to be thunder. She imagined some giant metronome keeping time. “Keeping time for what?” she wondered. She couldn’t really see anything further away than her own hand because she was enveloped in a thick, white mist. As Tarah walked, she felt her skin tingle from the cool sensation of the evaporated water. Even though, she could only see a few feet in front of her, Tarah was certain she was walking in an open field. She didn’t know how she knew but she felt it in her bones that she was out in the open and very vulnerable. The smell of ozone and burnt flesh was all around, clinging to the low clouds as she walked. The smell was so strong she could taste it when she breathed. ‘How do I know what burnt flesh smells like?’ Tarah asked herself. Suddenly, a hooded form that she couldn’t make out started to attack her. She knew not whether it was a man, beast, or something else. “What else could it be?” Tarah’s logical mind asked even as she began to defend herself. The question terrified her.



Tarah began swinging the heavy broad sword madly at her unseen attacker or rather attackers. She realized that there was more than one foe that had been hidden from her. Her arm was aching from holding up the heavy sword. Thump. Thump. The distant pounding was getting louder and growing more distinct. “What is that blasted noise?” Tarah demanded. Almost as in response to her question, the mist lifted and her hooded attackers were revealed.



They turned out to be not monsters but Sha’Une nuns. These were nuns of the Masadic Order . They were bowing to her now but she could not stop the sword in her hand from swinging. It was almost alive! A hungry beast attached to her arm that was bent on destruction. As she swung, blood was splattered across her face. It was their blood. She could taste the salty, metallic tang as it trickled into her mouth.



“Stop! Sa’Hara help me!” she yelled, “This isn’t real!” The pounding was coming closer. “This isn’t me! This isn’t me!” Tarah screamed over and over again. She was looking in every direction pleading for help. “Sa’Hara help me!” A loud thump that sounded like a melon being split brought her attention back to her sword. Tarah saw a kneeling, headless body fall in front of her. As it fell, the recently detached head rolled to her feet and stopped. She found herself entranced with it and could not turn away. The closed eyes popped open and the mouth began moving. Tarah continued to stare in horror as her brain processed the fact that there was no audible sound coming from the mouth but she could hear it speaking.



In a cold tone the voice said, “This is the you to come. For you will be the destroyer of nations. Our blood is already on your hands.” The lifeless eyes continued to stare at her even as it spoke. “No, No, NOOO!” she screamed.



Tarah jerked herself up slamming her head into the bunk above. She was gasping for breath and tearing at her sweat-dampened nightshirt, which was clinging to her. She was at the same time conversely too hot and too cold. She tried to quell the rising panic in her so as not to disturb her roommate.

Thump. Thump. There was the pounding again. Upon hearing this panic began to over take her but then she realized that it was her own heart beating. She could feel what she thought was sweat draining down her face. She wiped her hand across her forehead. As she did she noticed there was something hot and sticky on her hand. She held her hand out into the pale moonlight shining into the tiny room and saw that her hand was covered in a dark substance. “Blood.” Tarah whispered in horror.





“Where is she?” came the exasperated sigh from Taran Mountraun. He was trying to be studious and read the open prayer book he held in his hand, but he didn’t seem able to get past the first page. He would read a line then look up and then reread the same line again.



A tapping noise brought Taran’s attention to the floor. He saw his foot frantically tapping up and down. He seemed unable to stop the tapping. “I bet I look like a fine monk with all this blasted twitching.” He said as he realized what a fool he must appear to the other people in the sky port terminal. He was thoroughly disgusted with himself.



Though Taran didn’t think so from a distance he did look like a good Sha’Une novice. He wore a white robe with blue fringe. The robe was tied at the waist by a long braided sash with prayer beads woven into it. His head was covered with a white veil. A veil all novices wore until they took their vows. Underneath the veil, Taran’s head was completely shaved except for one braid that hung down each side of the front of his face. These were his honor braids, which hung to his ears. They had been cut just two years ago at his Kar’Nal ceremony.



Taran’s muscular build did not make one immediately think of a scholar. He had broad shoulders, dark black hair, deep brown skin, and well-muscled legs which were unintentionally flattered by his knee length robe and sandals. Like all Uraunian men, he had no facial hair to hide his high cheekbones. Even though his body had obviously been trained for defense his piercing blue eyes gave the scholar in him away. There was an intensity burning in those blue orbs that made many a young girl long to be the prayer book he so passionately devoured. Perhaps for the first time in years the words of the prophet could not hold his attention. Tarah was coming home!



He’d convinced his parents to let him meet her at the sky port. His mother had finally acquiesced, though Taran thought she’d given in a little too quickly. Now he found himself unusually nervous. His nervousness was unusual but not unknown. He and Tarah had not parted well. They hadn’t argued. It was worse than that, for Tarah had been indifferent to him. Taran could handle her sarcasm and anger but not her apathy. Somehow they had grown apart. That was a bitter pill.



As children, Tarah and Taran had been so close. Sometimes he’d felt like they’d shared a mind and a heart. Or better yet, one had been the mind and the other had been the heart of the same being. But for some reason Tarah had closed herself off to him. He knew she wasn’t happy with his decision to enter the Sha’Une but couldn’t she see that he’d had to. Sa’Hara was calling him to serve her people just as Tarah had been called. If she couldn’t see that, then they were truly lost to each other. That was why he was nervously twirling his right braid in a very un-Sha’Une manner. He didn’t know if he was waiting for his twin sister, the other half of him, or that nice but indifferent stranger who had left two years ago.





Tarah kept fidgeting in her, apparently specially designed, uncomfortable window seat. She had been traveling for about three hours. She had first taken a military transport from the academy to the civilian port of Anlan . From there she’d had two other flights to get home. Briefly, she had thought about asking her mother to send a shuttle to pick her up. But thought better of it. She knew it would be a tremendous waste of resources. She could hear her mother’s voice in her head, ‘If you can’t travel and mingle with your people how will you ever lead them?’ It wasn’t that she minded traveling just that she hated these short hops in the cramped sky cabs.



They were beginning the initial descent into the Mascan region. She kept leaning into the window straining her neck to look out. There was something strangely fascinating watching the ground and clouds speed by below her. Tarah was not afraid of flying either in atmosphere or outside of it. She really enjoyed going on interstellar flights. The feeling of breaking Uraun’s gravitational pull was intoxicating to her. She had actually felt safer flying to the off world colonies and in-system stations than flying in the sky cab. Part of it was the size of the sky cab. It was terribly small by most standards and could only seat eighty people. Compare that to the huge interstellar transport ships that had crews of five thousand. These massive ships were the lifelines of the empire. Used to transport every thing from agricultural goods and fashions to military convoys. When she stood on a star ship, she felt like she was walking on an entire world of metal. By contrast the two aisles, eighty-seat sky cab barely had room for her baggage in the luggage compartment. Walking to your seat, you couldn’t fully stand upright if you were of average height. Plus there was the sensation that if you stepped really hard, your foot would pierce the thin hull beneath you. So as she looked out at the clouds ripping by beneath her. She felt a longing for the openness below her and to feel the clouds whip through her. “Would that wind sting?” She murmured to herself.



Thinking of the wind brought her mind back to the desert she had just left. Mentally, she was no longer sitting in the cramped seat but instead was out running in the high desert feeling as though she ran amongst the clouds. She remembered the peace she felt running out there. It was an odd peace because when she ran she pushed her body as hard as it would go. Her lungs would scream for the oxygen that wasn’t there. But she couldn’t stop, for she had to keep running. She wouldn’t admit to any weakness. She was in control of her body. By putting one foot in front of the other when all she wanted to do was stop was a victory. A victory over the universe that seemed determined to try and rule her life. The wind would sting what little skin she left exposed. It was said that, if you stood still and listened, you could hear Sa’Hara whispering on the wind. Tarah wouldn’t stand still and listen though. She thought if she kept running she could honestly say she couldn’t hear Sa’Hara calling her. It was irresponsible and immature but that was how she felt. So when the wind bit at her skin it was almost as if the wind was Sa’Hara’s messenger reminding her of the futility of her struggle against her destiny. As she ran she would look out onto the lonely, wind swept, desert plains finding comfort in the solitude. It seemed the only company she could stand was the winds.



Out there, running in the high desert, sometimes the only movement she would see would be dust clouds and prayer ribbons sailing on the wind. From a distance, a prayer tree looked like some poor, mangled creature reaching its arms out to the sky above. Tarah could never decide if it was reaching in supplication or defiance of heaven. Prayer trees, or Jungas as they were otherwise known were small desert trees that had no leaves and only blossomed very small white flowers. The trees grew very short due to lack of water. So the bare limbs were very inviting to travelers crossing the desert, as a place to offer prayers to ensure safe passage. People would tie ribbons all over a Junga tree giving it the appearance of a giant bird reaching up to heaven. When the wind was really strong the ribbons would strain against their ties almost as if they could will themselves to heaven to deliver the prayers of the travelers who stopped at the lonely outcrop. These small lonely trees were monuments to a living faith that stretched back millennia.



A loud thump brought Tarah’s attention back to the present. The small craft had somehow managed to successfully land. “Ja’Karas and Jin’Kans . Welcome to Her Majesty’s Imperial Port of Mascan,” came the bored voice of the pilot over the intercom. The impressive name her ear heard did not really match the miniscule port facility that her eye saw. Tarah smiled as she looked out the window at the little port with only two runways. She stood up to get her bags and as she struggled with them she was happy at least this flight was almost deserted. The destination, Mascan was about twenty klicks from the village of Kathon home to the Residential Palace. The Empress spent most of her time between Kathon and the Imperial Capital, Leiz. Mascan, other than its proximity to Kathan, lacked anything of note to attract visitors, which accounted for the lack of travelers in the sky cab. Tarah noticed the double takes of recognition directed at her, but the formal politeness of Uraunian society kept the people from approaching her. She was obviously coming back from the academy and not wearing any official robes so it would have been deemed impolite to bother her. Tarah let out a sigh of relief that she had decided not to wear her uniform. If she had been in uniform she would have been forced to field a barrage of questions. Instead, this way she received just simple nods and “Ja’Kara Sinne .” She also had no security on this trip. If this had been an off-world flight there definitely would have been security but not on Uraun. The mere thought of needing security here was inconceivable.

‘I wonder who they sent to pick me up.’ Tarah thought to herself. She really hoped it was a staff member as she was too tired to deal with her family and the formalities that went with them. As she left the walkway leading from the cab the quiet murmur of the underused sky port greeted her. She searched the open room for a familiar face and she noticed a young Sha’Une in front of her nervously looking back and forth. He had an obviously untouched prayer book opened and was reaching up to twirl a braid that was hidden under his white veil. Then it hit her it was Taran! She’d never seen him in his full Sha’Une garb.



As though sensing her recognition Taran turned around and saw her. How they had both changed, Tarah thought. She saw a succession of emotions cross his face including fear. ‘Oh Sa’Hara does he know about my visions!’ Tarah wondered as panic began to rise in her chest. No, of course not. How could he? ‘Then why am I seeing fear in Taran’s eyes’ she wondered to herself.



After a moment of reflection, which she covered by rearranging her bag on her shoulder, it came to her. She knew what he was afraid of. Not her visions but her rejection. She knew she’d been cold to him when he’d told her he was not going to the academy with her. It was the fact that he’d decided to take a completely different life path than her and she hadn’t the slightest inkling that he was even considering it was what really bothered her. Two years ago when he’d told her it had seemed like a low blow. It had seemed that even Taran was lost to her when she needed him the most.

He was still lost to her.



How could she tell him that she was haunted with visions of massacring her own people? What would he think of her? She wanted to tell him to leave her alone and get out while he still could. But one look at the anxious stare he gave her she hated herself but she couldn’t push him away. Standing there in his Sha’Une robes he looked more the lost boy of her youth than the studious young man he appeared to be now. So she did what she had to she smiled and said, “Tarn! You look…”





They went and grabbed her bags. “I figured we could take the bus to town and then walk the rest of the way to the grounds.” Taran said raising his voice at the end of his sentence turning it into a question. He hesitantly glanced at Tarah trying to gauge her reaction to spending more time with him than she might have anticipated. He really wanted to talk to Tarah alone before all the bustle of her homecoming really started. Plus, he wanted to give her some forewarning about what their parents had been discussing. Tarah wasn’t really paying attention to him. She was too busy staring out the glass windows.



“It is so green!” She whispered. The academy was in the high desert region of the northern tips of the Janean mountain range on the continent of Daes. It was beautiful there with its browns, oranges, and purples but no green.



While in the desert her eyes had constantly searched the plains for something but she could never think what it was she was looking for. Now she knew she had been searching for the color green. Here, outside the windows, it was in abundance, many different shades of green. There was deep, dark green on the large trees to bright, lush green in the grass and vines.



As they walked through the doors she felt the air descend upon her. The warmth was oppressive but comforting. She felt like she was walking in water.



“Liquid Humidity,” She whispered the odd phrase she had picked up from her roommate. Her body was reacting to the warmth. She could feel her skin stretching trying to soak up all of the heat as though she could store it for later. The fragrance of blooming flowers filled her nose and mouth as she breathed deeply. ‘I am home.’ She thought as she finally got around to answering Taran’s question.



“Yeah, lets walk the rest of the way home.” She needed to feel the ground beneath her and feel the sun blazing on her head. She had to know if this warmth was real.



‘Is this the same path I walked as a child?’ Tarah wondered. It seemed so small or was she just taller. This path had always seemed so mysterious and dangerous. She and Taran would play explorers braving new worlds or walking back in time to fight in ancient battles. Yet now here she was and she knew what was around the next bend. She knew that it was just an old pier on the river and not a rickety bridge leading to a lost temple.



No. That was not right. When she was a child she’d known that it was only a pier but she had been able to believe that it could be the bridge to another time or another world. At that moment Tarah’s heart ached for the child she had been and for all the children in the universe. It ached because at some point whether, willingly or not, a veil was lifted and one saw that there was no magical bridge but just an old pier about to be washed away.



She unconsciously reached for her honor braid. The braid’s shortened length reminded her of her visions. ‘No this must stop. I will not have everything soiled by this…this curse. I will see beauty! I can still see beauty!’ She looked over at Taran who was busy staring at the ground.



There on the dirt road was a bright red and yellow rain frog. The little guy was sitting there nervously gulping trying to make himself invisible. Tarah chuckled to herself as she said,



“He thinks if he is just still enough we will not notice him.” Whispering under her breath, “I don’t see you, you don’t see me.”



‘Is that what people think?’ she asked herself. That if they don’t acknowledge something it doesn’t exist. Truth. ‘What is truth?’ Tarah wondered.



Sa’Hara was truth revealed so said revelations in the Ilian. Sa’Hara was also light. So then truth was light or a burning flame. Burning. Tarah repeated that word in her mind. Suddenly, she remembered her dream and the smell of burnt flesh. She shuddered as her mind continued to debate the nature of truth. Most people deliberately averted their eyes from the glaring sight of truth. It is easier, to just not deal with something by refusing to acknowledge it. But she had not been allowed to turn away from the blaze. That was her burden to be burned by truth for her people or her people for her?



“Don’t touch it Taran.” Tarah said quietly.

“I wasn’t going to.” He replied just as softly.

“Let us let him think he has fooled us. Let him find comfort in this.” Tarah replied.

“To comfort the little creatures is to comfort me. ” Taran whispered.



        Tarah regarded her brother for a moment, standing there in his blue and white robes. The sun was shining through the trees forming a halo of light around him. At this moment he seemed almost ethereal or mythical. Tarah felt as though if she reached out and touched him he would vanish. She was wondering if she was dreaming again. In fact Tarah was beginning to wonder if she was going mad.

She felt as though she could no longer trust her senses. She listened for the distant pounding that always haunted such dreams but all she heard was the constant buzzing of insects and the rustling of trees in the wind around her. Those sounds were comforting to her, proving that she was indeed awake standing on the path to Kathon.



‘I had forgotten trees rustled that loudly’ she thought. Her mind was wandering again. She’d caught herself doing that more often lately. Again the troubling thought of madness drifted through her mind.



She reached out and lightly touched Taran on the shoulder. He jumped as she had startled him and then gave her a questioning glance. She returned his gaze with her own silent questions.



Here stood her brother who she knew and loved and who in return knew her so well. But also standing before her was a member of the Sha’Une who she felt she couldn’t trust. She felt guilty admitting that but she believed the Sha’Une knew more about her Kar’Nal ceremony than they admitted. Tarah knew that her holiness, Matre Gera, had a hand in speeding up her ceremony and some how was connected to the visions that haunted her.



        Tarah felt she was a pawn in someone else’s game and she hated that. The problem was she didn’t even know whose game it was. She didn’t know if it was parliament, the Sha’Une, or she hated to even consider it, the Jade throne. Maybe it was more than one of those powers. Until she figured out what was going on she felt as though she couldn’t trust any one of the three institutions. Her mother knew something was going on. Of that Tarah was certain. Enid had denied it when Tarah had confronted her. The denial hurt Tarah deeply. After the Kar’Nal ceremony Tarah had asked her mother for some explanation and her mother had repeatedly evaded the questions. Finally, her mother had fallen back on ritual saying that ‘it was written’ and ‘Sa’Hara wills it so.’ Tarah had stormed out saying, “Sa’Hara may, but I don’t!” Now before her was her twin brother was he against her too?



        No she saw the gentle look of concern in his eyes.

“Tarah,” he began tentatively, “Is every thing all right?”

What a question she thought.

“All right? By who’s standard?” she asked with a touch of sarcasm.

“By yours!” he answered sharply.



Well I am having dreams or prophecies of massacring my own people but other than that I am doing just fine. She wanted to say all that but knew she couldn’t. So she lied, even though she knew that would hurt him more.



. “Taran, I am fine.”



“Tarah, do you think so little of me now.” He asked his voice full of hurt.

“Don’t you know I can sense your torment? You are pulling further and further away. I think you owe me at least a reason why. I am just really worried about you. Maybe, just maybe, I can help if you give me a chance. Tare…its me.” The last was said almost to softly to hear. Tarah looked into her own eyes looking back at her.



‘Maybe Taran isn’t lost to me, maybe I am lost to Taran,’ she thought to herself.

“Taran, something is happening, I don’t know how to tell you…” she began softly.



“Tarah! “Tarah!” came the shrill cry of her youngest brother, Olan. She jerked her head up and saw him running towards her. She started to head towards him when Taran grabbed her by the arm. He looked questioningly at her but knew for now it was to late the veil had already come back down between them.



“Lets go home” she whispered and turned to go. Taran slowly nodded in agreement and made to follow her.





Finis



Toni



Glossary of Terms

Masadic Order – An Order of Sha’Une nuns founded by Hana Masad in 560, Second Age. Masad was reputed to have the gift of prophecy.



Anlan – Port on the Daes continent were Imperial Academy is located



Ja’Karas and Jin’Kans – Ladies and Gentlemen.



Ja’Kara Sinne – My Young Lady or Little Miss



Words of the Prophet Arian’ha recorded in the Ilian.

"We live as we dream, alone." - The Heart of Darkness