From The Lore of the Jewels
In
days long past, just after the world was formed and the people rose from the
dust, Mother Sun and the Sister Moons beheld what had been wrought and were
troubled by what they saw. For as people moved across the lands, chaos rather
than harmony ruled.
"We must bring
peace and order." Mother Sun spoke to the pale reflections of herself.
From her depths, she
drew molten elements and fashioned them into Jewels. The icy breath of the
Sister Moons cooled the gems. To Earda, they were sent and for each Jewel,
there was a purpose.
And from the hearts
of the six Jewels, light radiated and coalesced to become the White.
Liara closed the Lore of the Jewels. Everyone knew the ruling Jewel was black. And the tale of how the gems were formed was naught but an interesting fable. Her foster mother had given her the book on her last name day. Tana's insistence that she learn the legends puzzled Liara. What use were these mystical tales to one who might never hold a Jewel?
She heard a disturbance in the courtyard and peered through the open window. Several men dismounted. Their steeds were magnificent beasts with burnished horns. Who were these visitors? They looked to be men of importance.
Tana's maid appeared in the doorway. "Milady Holder bids you remain in hiding until her guests leave."
Liara sighed. Twice this lunar, visitors had arrived to see the Yellow Holder. Both times, she had been bidden to keep her presence a secret. Not that she minded missing lessons, of course. The complicated exercises in visualizing had no practical purpose she could see. What bothered her was not being allowed to sit in company and hear about events beyond the keep and the village.
Curiosity gnawed at her thoughts. In hopes of learning more about these unexpected visitors to the High Sanctuary, she hurried down the back stairs and lingered in the shadows near the postern gate. But the men had gone inside before she could hear what they said.
Excitement fluttered like the jeweled wings of a flitter. She was free, at least for the afternoon. She slipped outside and climbed the path beyond the walls of the massive stone tower. Then she broke into a run, deftly avoiding the roots of the gnarled, wind-shaped balsa trees.
A branch caught her kerchief and her hair tumbled free. Inky black strands whipped around her face. Clutching the scarf in her hand, she reached the end of the path. Clusters of multi-hued silk-sheep browsed among the grass and wildflowers.
After breathing deeply of the scented air, she ran across the meadow to the tumble of rocks at the edge of the cliff. She stared at the distant gray tower and peered at the village where the houses resembled pieces from a child's toy. She turned and gazed at the sea and watched white froths of foam roll across the dark blue expanse to dash against the rocky slope.
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5 comments:
You've done a great job capturing her longing for a life outside the keep. (And I gather she'll get more than what she bargained for...)
Such wonderful description. Good job.
Great teaser. I'm guessing that story might prove more important than she realizes.
Great evocation of your setting!
A beautifully written fantasy scene.
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