Post by lee on Apr 7, 2019 16:01:12 GMT
Black Magic Dreams
(Legion of Tyranny)
Part One
Naltor 2966—
“Tell me, girl, what you saw.”
The 5 year-old looked up at the old man, her silver-white pony tail swinging back and forth. “I saw a spaceship falling to the ground; it had a big hole in the side of it.”
“What kind of markings were on the vessel?” the old man asked.
The child clenched her fist and closed her eye, trying to remember every aspect of her dream. “It was the head of a bird.”
The old man nodded. “What else did you see?”
“A...a monster,” she said. “It came through the hole.”
“What did the monster look like?” he asked.
“It was taller than this room,” she said, “and had big wings, and sharp claws, and long teeth. Its face looked like it was made of clay that someone had smooshed into a glob.” Tears began to form in the corners of her eyes.
“What happened next?”
“Its chest grew bigger and then it breathed out this green cloud. The cloud made everyone sick and it made them stop breathing.”
The old man nodded. “Now, for the most important question,” he said. “Even though you saw this in your dream, when will it take place?”
The little girl held up her and and raised three fingers. “In three days.”
Motioning for his assistant, the old man sent a message to the Council, warning them of the alien's coming arrival. As soon as the younger man was gone, a second girl stepped forward.
The little girl's facial features were strikingly similar to the first girl; enough so that even the simplest of observers could tell the two were sisters. The similarities ended there. A full year younger, the second child was a few inches shorter than her sister. Her hair was silver white, as was her skin. The thing that really marked their difference was the set of antennae that seemed to emerge from the corners of her eyes.
“What have you seen, girl,?” the man asked.
Less shy than her sister, the younger girl spoke. “A silly man.”
“Do you know his identity?” the old man asked.
The child pointed at the old man. “You are the silly man.”
The old man's eyes grew wide. “Watch yourself, child.”
Ignoring him, she turned to her sister. “Nura,” she said. “Did you see what caused the hole?”
The older girl nodded. “One of our spaceships shoots it down.”
Immediately, the old man left the room, leaving the girls alone. Seconds after his departure, Nura began to cry. Her sister took her hand.
“What's wrong?” the younger sister asked.
“Oh, Mysa,” the older girl sobbed. “Because you embarrassed him, he is going to send you away.”
Before Mysa could comfort Nura, the old man returned.
“Tell me of your dreams,” he commanded the younger girl.
“I don't have dreams,” the little girl replied.
“Nonsense,” he said. “All of our kind have dreams.”
“I don't,” Mysa assured him.
The man was silent for several moments. When he finally spoke, it was to confirm Nura's fears. “Mysa Nal,” he said, “for your abnormalities, I have no choice but to banish you from our planet.”
Nura began to cry, but Mysa stood unflinching. The man was unnerved by the little girl's stare and finally looked away.
As two guards entered to escort Mysa back to her room, Nura rushed to the old man. “Grandfather,” she pleaded. “Please don't send Mysa away.”
There was no softening of his heart. “Once she's gone, you will quickly forget all about her. Now, wipe your tears and go play.”
Nura stared at the man in disbelief; all love for him gone in a broken heartbeat. Slowly she turned and walked away, not even bothering to look back.
Part Two
Naltor 2986—
Silk sheets slid from the bed into a crumpled heap as Nura Nal bolted upright. Moonlight slipping through the curtains illuminated the beads of perspiration that covered her shapely figure. A figure lying beside her began to stir as his hand searched for the missing sheet.
Nura looked at the young man, then gave him a shove. “Get out,” she said.
The young man, now fully awake, looked at her in confusion. “What...?”
“Get out now,” she demanded.
The young man knew the day would come when Nura Nal tired of him as a lover, but he never expected it to occur in the middle of the night. “But...” he started to protest.
She gave him another shove and sent him sliding off the side of the bed. “I said now.”
Gathering up his clothes, he quickly dressed and left.
“Lights, on,” she said aloud.
The lights came up slowly, allowing Nura's eyes the opportunity to adjust. Once it was at her desired brightness, she rose from her bed. Crossing the floor, she passed through an opening. “Bath,” she said, and a large recess in the floor began to fill with perfumed water. Descending the three steps, she dipped her toe into the water. Satisfied with its warmth, she lowered herself into the water and let it rise around her.
As she soaked and the tension faded from her limbs, she began to focus on what woke her so abruptly. In the warmth of the water, her eyes began to grow heavy. Her mind began to drift toward slumber when, suddenly, she knew. A dream. A powerful, important dream, yet, for some reason, she was unable to recall what it was about.
Knowing there was a dream, but no knowing its importance began to negate the relaxing effects of the bath. Standing, she took a towel from a pedestal and began to dry off. She let it drop to the floor and picked up a second towel. Once it covered her hair like a turban, she returned to her sleeping quarters and opened her closet.
Sorting through her outfits, she chose a high-collared silver body sleeve that would leave her arms and legs exposed, as well as an oval opening that revealed a tantalizing bit of cleavage. She then chose a pair of midnight blue leggings followed by a pair of thigh-high silver boots. Tossing the outfit on her bed, she crossed to a dressing table and sat down. Unwinding the towel, she tilted her head—first to the left, then to the right—and dried her hair. Returning to the bed, she donned the body sleeve and leggings. Returning to her dressing table, she began to brush her hair; natural curls began to appear with the slightest of coaxing. Once she was satisfied with her appearance, she slipped into her boots and left her sleeping quarters.
Her living quarters revealed Nura to be a young woman used to living a pampered lifestyle. Furniture and art from off-world sat—or hung—tastefully in specific spots throughout the room; each positioned to enhance its beauty. Thick rugs of red and gold covered the marble floor. Beside a white, backless couch stood a young man in his early twenties.
A light blue tunic clung to his thick chest, revealing every muscle and ripple his torso had, yet left his arms bare; it fell a few inches shy of his knees. He also wore white leather sandals that wound their way up his legs to his calves. In his hands he held a pitcher of water and a tray of fruit. Passing by him, Nura traced a finger across his chest before taking a large berry from the tray.
Proceeding to a blank wall, she spoke, “Window.”
The whiteness of the wall faded to reveal a large picture window that looked down on the city. It was still dark out, but a pencil-line of sunlight could be seen tracing the edge of the horizon. She stared into the distance for a few moments before turning her back to the window. She managed five steps before something stopped her; a sound.
It was so faint she thought she had imagined it. Glancing at the young man—who stood staring straight ahead—she could tell he had heard nothing. That brief distraction, however, was enough to allow the sounds identification to slip from her grasp.
“What is wrong with me?” she asked aloud. “First, my dream evades me, and, now this.” She approached the young man. “Can you tell me what is wrong with me this morning?”
He only looked her in the eye because she had addressed him. “There is nothing wrong with you,” he said. “You are perfection at all times.”
Nura gave him a smile and patted his cheek. “Of course you would say such flattering things,” she said. “You hope to one day share my bed.”
To his credit, the young man did not blush. “One can dream,” he replied.
Nura ran her hand across his chest. “There is hope for you, yet,” she said, taking another piece of fruit.
The food was at her lips when she heard the sound for the second time and, again, the young man appeared not to hear. She tilted her head slightly. “Did you hear that?”
“I'm sorry,” he said “but, I still heard nothing.”
The young woman dropped onto the couch and put her head in her hands. She hear the young man speak, but not what he said. Looking up, she asked him to repeat it.
“I simply said if it was important, you would remember it; if not, you will quickly forget it soon enough. Don't let it trouble you,” he said.
Nura jumped to her feet and, grabbing the young man by the ears, pulled his head to her and gave him a kiss. Although thoroughly surprised, he managed to keep his tray firmly in hand.
“What was that for?” he asked.
“That was for jogging my memory,” she said. “The sound; it was a voice. It was telling me to...”
“Remember,” the voice repeated, more clear to her this time.
And she did. Her mind went back in time twenty years. She remembered her younger sister—a sister she had forgotten—and everything that had occurred the day Mysa was taken from her. She also remembered her elusive dream. Mysa was coming home.
Part Three
Zerox 2986—
The young woman glided around the stone obelisk, her diaphanous gown clinging to the curves of her stark white skin. Stretching forth her hand—stopping a hair's width from the obelisk's surface—she began to trace the arcane symbols carved into the stone's smooth surface. Upon completing each tracing, a spark of magic would arc from stone to flesh.
“Excruciating, isn't it?” Mysa Nal asked.
There was no audible response.
“I know it is, Lover,” she said, spitting the last word from her mouth like it was rancid meat. “When I crafted the spell, I made certain all of your senses remained in tact save for your ability to speak.”
She traced another symbol and smiled when the magic, again, reached across the empty space to caress her fingertips.
“My voice must surely be as poisoned honey to your ears, yet you still gaze longingly at the curves of my body. Does the scent of my perfume play upon your memories of our nights together; I know it is your favorite of all my perfumes. It must be maddening, desiring to have me, yet, in the same instant, despising me for binding you body and soul to this obelisk.”
Again, she heard nothing but her own breathing. Raising her right hand, the young woman gazed at the green energy emanating from the ring on her index finger. “The pain you have felt thus far has been but a precursor to what is to come.”
Although it had no effect on the outcome, she extended the ring towards the obelisk. “Shrink.” The word was spoken as an undeniable command.
The stone began to shudder, then decrease in size. Within seconds, the obelisk was no bigger than the stone in her ring. She smiled, knowing how much her captive had suffered.
An elderly man wearing a simple tunic, breeches, and a leather apron entered the room. “It is done, Mistress?” he asked.
“It is,” Mysa replied.
Gnarled fingers stretched forth and gently grasped the stone. Raising a jeweler's lens to his eye, he examined the miniaturized obelisk. “Exquisite,” he finally said. “And he still has his senses?”
“Of course,” Mysa said, smiling.
“Serves him right for what he did to you,” the old man replied. “What would you prefer, Mistress?”
Mysa thought for a moment, then said, “I would like it affixed to a silver chain.” Touching the hollow spot between her breasts, she added, “And it should rest here, near my heart.”
The man let his eyes be drawn to where she indicated, but only for a second. He looked away, not for fear of being caught in a moment of lust, for his numerous years had long since put such foolishness behind him, but, in the span of that brief glimpse, he instinctively knew what the length of the chain should be. “How soon do you desire to have it, Mistress?” he asked.
“I am leaving Zerox in two days,” Mysa said. “Have it ready by then.”
“It shall be done,” he said with a nod and a bow as he turned and left the room. “Hear that, Mordru, you lecherous old sod? You're days on Zerox are truly numbered.”
With the old man gone, Mysa, the High Mage of the Sorcerers' World, changed from the robes chosen to entice into those more suited for one of her station. Now properly attired, she summoned a portal and stepped through to the council chambers where several members of the council had already assembled.
Part Four
Considering how she acquired the seat once held by Mordru, she was greeted warmly by most of the council. They all knew how she been abused by the former head of the council (and some secretly envied Mordru for the “pleasures” he enjoyed), so no one held what she did against her. In fact, a few even argued she deserved the seat considering the magic she called upon to gain it. Those inclined to argue against her thought better of it when they considered that same magic.
As a nexus for the numerous mystical realms, the Sorcerers' World council was made up of representatives from the majority of them; Mysa was one of the few who had chosen to reside there permanently. Taking her seat , she glanced around the table to see who was still missing. Most notably absent was the Morgana, Sorceress Queen of Skartaris—a dimension once closely associated with the planet Earth. While she wished the Sorceress Queen were here, the Morgana had already voiced her support for Mysa's choice.
A portal opened behind the seat belonging to Gemworld's representative and the current holder of the title “Princess Topaz” stepped through. Like many of her predecessors before her from the House of Topaz, the current princess was statuesque with shoulder-length hair the color of midnight framing a face of flawless beauty. Her arrival indicated the council now had a quorum and could now begin.
“Members of the Council of Sorcerers' World,” Mysa began. “As is obvious, we are missing various members of the council in the wake of the destruction of the planet known as “Earth”. I have spoken with the Morgana who has informed me the loss of Skartaris' anchor planet has, fortunately, had little more than a ripple effect in her dimension. Still, she is being kept busy trying to keep these effects at a minimum. How have the rest of you fared?”
Princess Topaz spoke first. “Gemworld has had little contact with Earth over the past few centuries. Because of this, we have suffered little damage.”
Master Hxtchntsplcstr spoke next. “We, too, in the 5th dimension have been scarcely affected by the loss.”
Although she was now a permanent resident of Zerox, few members of the council had a connection to the destroyed planet such as the immortal, Madam Xanadu. Her seat was, understandably, empty. She sent assurances she would be fine...in time.
Mysa spoke up after a moment of silence. “As some of you know, I will soon be returning to Naltor.”
Several members of the council nodded.
“Who is to act in your stead while you are away?” The question was asked by a goat-headed being known as Shepherd, the representative of The Red.
“After consulting with the Morgana, Master Hxtchntsplcstr, and Yoran of Cilia, I have chosen Princess Topaz to take my place at the head of this council. Are there any who seek to challenge this decision?”
The ancient wizard, Myrwhydden of Tharn, rose to address those assembled. “Will the princess work on your behalf to keep the balance?”
Princess Topaz rose to her feet. “I will.”
The wizard continued. “Do you trust the princess to return to her seat upon your return?” he asked Mysa. “You are returning, are you not?”
“I do plan to return,” Mysa assured him, “and, yes, I trust the princess will return to her seat once my business offworld is complete.”
“Then, my support is given,” Myrwhydden said. With the addition of his support, the remaining council agreed to Mysa's choice of the princess.
Determining there were no other pressing matters, the council broke up into smaller groups. Shepherd and Yoran spoke, briefly, with Hxtchntsplcstr before joining Mysa.
“Have you any inkling as to when you shall return?” Yoran asked. The Cilian was a being of pure energy in the form of a humanoid. What would have been his head was covered by golden helmet of great power that, a thousand years past, belonged to one of his race called “Nabu”. He also wore an ever-flowing golden cloak and an ornate amulet that Nabu once donned.
“Not long, I hope,” she confessed.
“What takes you away from us so soon after you gained your seat?” Shepherd inquired.
Mysa opened a portal to her chambers and beckoned the two to follow her as she stepped through. Once they were away from those who might attempt to eavesdrop, she revealed her reason for leaving.
“We have those among the council who—some secretly, others not so secretly—carry out the wishes of the Lords of Order and Chaos.” She glanced at Yoran. “Not long after I...replaced Mordru, Madam Xanadu's current apprentice, a young Baaldurian, approached me. She came with a warning from the immortal of forces gathering that would tip the scales in favor of Chaos.”
“The pendulum of order and chaos swings back and forth in cycles,” Yoran said. “While regrettable, it is an inevitability.”
Mysa continued. “This time, however, once the fates favor chaos, an evil will arise that will eliminate the scales completely. When that happens...if that happens...order and chaos will cease to have any meaning. All that will remain is evil.”
“And returning to Naltor will prevent this?” Shepherd asked.
“Honestly, I am not sure,” she replied. “The reason I go to Naltor is because of the second part of the girl's warning. The arising forces seek to draw my sister into their web, and that is something I will not allow.”
Part Five
Nura was growing impatient; Mysa was coming home. Once she remembered her sister, the memories of their brief time together as children flooded back and she couldn't wait to see her again. Although her sister had yet to make actual contact with the news, Nura was as sure of the fact they would be reunited as she was her own name. What had Mysa been all these years? What had she been doing? These, and a host of other questions, were constantly on her mind.
As she stood staring out her window and sipping a glass of Quaalian wine, she heard a beep indicating someone was desiring to speak to her. She knew, even without her precognitive abilities, it was her grandfather. Before answering, the memory of her sister's last day on Naltor returned. The words her grandfather had spoken, promising she would forget Mysa in time, were strong in her mind and, for a moment, she was thankful she was not a telepath for if she were, the old man would surely feel her anger.
“Yes, Grandfather.”
The old man's image suddenly appeared in the lower right-hand corner of her window. “Your...presence...is requested in the council chambers,” he said.
Odd, Nura thought, when does he ever do anything but demand from me?
“I shall be there shortly,” she replied.
After a failed attempt to determine what her grandfather wanted, she finished her wine and left her apartment. She paused at the door as a thought crossed her mind. Perhaps it has something to do with Mysa. She quickened her step and made her way to the council chambers.
Moments later, she entered the chambers and was somewhat let down to find her grandfather and a member of the Precommandos waiting for her.
“High Seer,” she said, addressing her grandfather by his proper title. “Captain. How may I help you?”
The captain was a tall, square-jawed man with dark brown hair—graying at the temples—with dark eyes. He was in uniform, a black and gray combination of mesh, leather, and armor-plating; a black, visored helmet was tucked into the crook of his left arm. He spoke. “We have reason to believe a known criminal will soon attempt to make contact with you.”
They must have found out about Mysa, she thought. “Reason to believe?” she asked. “Shouldn't the Precommandos be a little more certain before making accusations?”
“Forgive me,” the captain stammered. “I did not mean that to sound accusatory. My purpose was to merely issue you a warning to stay vigilant. The officer who saw the criminal's arrival only saw fleeting glimpses of you in her vision. That is why I am here, to inquire if you have had any such dreams.”
“Now, it is my turn to apologize,” Nura said. “Thank you for your concern, but I have had no such dreams.”
“Why would a known criminal be seeking you?” the High Seer asked.
“I'm not sure,” she said. “How could I have even met someone of that sort? As you well know, Grandfather, I have never left Naltor.”
“Still,” the captain added, “we would prefer to supply you with a bodyguard until this is all over.”
A spy, you mean, she said to herself.
“Surely, with her talents, Nura will have no need of a bodyguard,” the High Seer said.
He doesn't know.”
Add to that the number of male suitors she has,” he continued, “I have know doubts she will be well watched,”
Nura had never been secretive when it came to her carnal proclivities, but to hear her grandfather speak of them, here, in the council chambers...she was stunned. The look on the captain's face indicated he, too, was uncomfortable with the High Seer's comment.
“Actually,” she said, more to defy her grandfather than a need to be protected, “I would feel safer with a bodyguard.”
The captain raised his helmet up and spoke into a built-in microphone. “Corporal Aq.”
“On my way, Sir,” came the reply.
Seconds later, the doors of the council chambers opened and a young woman entered. The only difference between her uniform and that of her captain's was the rank insignia on their collars. “Corporal Xola Aq reporting as ordered,” the young woman said, snapping to attention. A few inches shorter than Nura, her deep auburn hair was straight and fell no farther than her collarbone.
Nura was somewhat surprised to find her bodyguard was female, but shrugged it off. If Corporal Aq made it into the Precommandos, she was more than capable of providing an additional level of protection.
“I will try not to disrupt your life too much,” the corporal said, “but I will do all I can to protect you.”
Nura smiled. “I look forward to your company.”
Part Six
Corporal Aq entered Nura's quarters first, setting a small overnight bag and her helmet by the door as she did so. She quickly scanned the main living area before allowing Nura access.
“It is clear,” the Precommando said.
Nura entered and closed the door behind her. “So, what now?”
Xola started toward the bedroom door. “I'm going to check out the rest of your quarters and make sure we are alone. You stay here.”
Nura followed her to the bedroom door, but didn't pass through.
After looking around, the corporal pointed to a door. “What is in here?”
“That is my closet,” Nura replied.
Xola cautiously opened the door, then looked back at Nura. “Closet? Ma'am, I could fit half of my apartment in here.”
Nura smiled. “Ma'am sounds much too old; I would prefer you call me Nura.”
The corporal thought for a moment. “Since you are the High Seer's granddaughter, and we will be spending the next few days together, I believe I can do that.”
“Wonderful,” Nura said.
“If you would like,” the corporal continued, “you may call me Xola.”
“I can do that.”
Xola turned and stepped into the closet. A minute later, she emerged. “It is clear.”
Nura pointed to the door on the opposite side of the room. “That is my bathing chambers.”
After seeing the closet, Xola tried to imagine what Nura's bath might look like. Pushing the door open—whatever she was expecting—she was not disappointed. Certain there was nowhere for anyone to hide, she announced, “Your apartment is empty except for us.”
As is struck by the very words Xola spoke, Nura's eyes grew wide. “Something's wrong.”
“A vision?” the corporal asked. She had, like most members of the Precommandos, heard Nura's oneiromancy and precognitive abilities were second only to the High Seer; in fact, had she not been his granddaughter, she would have been at the top of the Precommandos' recruitment list.
“No,” Nura replied. “Rol should have been here.”
“Rol?”
“Rol Purtha,” Nura clarified. “He is my servant.”
Xola normally wasn't fond of the whole servant/master arrangement, but in Nura's case, it was rumored being her servant was a position most men would beg to occupy. “And this Rol should be here?”
“He always knows when I will return and makes certain he is waiting on me,” Nura replied.
“See if you can contact him while I let the captain know,” the corporal said. She quickly crossed the room and retrieved her helmet.
Walking to her window, Nura gazed out at the city for a moment and whispered a silent prayer to the gods of Naltor that Rol wasn't in danger. “Contact Rol Purtha,” she said and a small, blank screen appeared in the lower right-hand corner. Nearly a minute passed without a response.
“The captain is send Precommandos to his quarters,” Xola said, coming up behind Nura.
“He is alive,” a new voice said, “but your people won't find him.”
Both women turned to discover a dark-haired young woman standing just inside the door.
“Who are you?” Xola demanded. “How did you get in here?”
“More importantly,” Nura added, “how is it we did not foresee any of this?”
“There are those who can affect the mind and blind it to the dreams they might have,” the girl replied. “As for me, I can assure you your precious Rol will be returned unharmed if you join us.”
“Who are you?” Xola demanded again. She drew a stun baton and flipped a switch; there was a brief arc of energy as it flared to life.
“Join who?” Nura asked. “Why do you want me to join you?”
“The extent of your abilities are know beyond the atmosphere of you little world,” the intruder replied. “We believe they would be a great help in taking over the galaxy.”
“You're mad,” Nura replied.
The intruder laughed and Xola took advantage of the distraction. Leaping at the young woman, she stretched for the stun baton but was surprised when it passed through her foe.
“She's a Bgztlian,” Nura said. “How can we stop her?”
“Like this.”
All three women turned.
Glowing red bands of energy surrounded the intruder as Mysa stepped through a portal. “She will not be going anywhere.”
Fear like Tinya had never known filled her entire being; never had she felt so trapped, so helpless, so...solid.
Nura rushed to her sister and embraced her. Xola pointed her stun baton at the newcomer.
“There is no need for that,” Mysa assured her. “I am only here to protect my sister.”
Xola lowered the baton, then approached the dark-haired girl. “Is there anyway we can detain her once this energy fades?”
“My spell will keep her solid for a long, long time,” Mysa said.
Tinya began to weep.
“Return Rol,” Nura said, “and we will let you go.”
Mysa put her hand on her sister's arm. “He will not return,” she said.
Nura slapped the intruder across the face. “You've killed him!” she screamed.
Mysa restrained Nura. “He still lives,” she assured her older sister. “Rol Purtha has already joined her companions.”
“Then...then why did they come to me?” The realization that she had been betrayed by one she trusted filled her words with trembling.
“Because you are the strongest precog to ever live,” Xola told her. “You will one day become the High Seer.”
Tinya vanished.
“Where...?” Xola started to asked.
“I sent her back to where she came from,” Mysa said.
“On whose authority?” Xola demanded.
“I sit on the high council of Zerox,” Mysa said. “I did so on my own authority.”
Xola was unsure how to respond.
Mysa smiled. “I did this so her people would leave.” Her voice was more at ease. “There are forces gathering that threaten the universe. With her gone, we won't have to worry about their interference while we make preparations.”
This made sense to the precommando.
“I can't believe Rol betrayed me,” Nura said, dropping to her knees.
Kneeling down beside her sister, Mysa put her arms around her and embraced her. “He didn't betray you,” she said. “He joined them so they wouldn't need you; he did it because he loved you.”
(Legion of Tyranny)
Part One
Naltor 2966—
“Tell me, girl, what you saw.”
The 5 year-old looked up at the old man, her silver-white pony tail swinging back and forth. “I saw a spaceship falling to the ground; it had a big hole in the side of it.”
“What kind of markings were on the vessel?” the old man asked.
The child clenched her fist and closed her eye, trying to remember every aspect of her dream. “It was the head of a bird.”
The old man nodded. “What else did you see?”
“A...a monster,” she said. “It came through the hole.”
“What did the monster look like?” he asked.
“It was taller than this room,” she said, “and had big wings, and sharp claws, and long teeth. Its face looked like it was made of clay that someone had smooshed into a glob.” Tears began to form in the corners of her eyes.
“What happened next?”
“Its chest grew bigger and then it breathed out this green cloud. The cloud made everyone sick and it made them stop breathing.”
The old man nodded. “Now, for the most important question,” he said. “Even though you saw this in your dream, when will it take place?”
The little girl held up her and and raised three fingers. “In three days.”
Motioning for his assistant, the old man sent a message to the Council, warning them of the alien's coming arrival. As soon as the younger man was gone, a second girl stepped forward.
The little girl's facial features were strikingly similar to the first girl; enough so that even the simplest of observers could tell the two were sisters. The similarities ended there. A full year younger, the second child was a few inches shorter than her sister. Her hair was silver white, as was her skin. The thing that really marked their difference was the set of antennae that seemed to emerge from the corners of her eyes.
“What have you seen, girl,?” the man asked.
Less shy than her sister, the younger girl spoke. “A silly man.”
“Do you know his identity?” the old man asked.
The child pointed at the old man. “You are the silly man.”
The old man's eyes grew wide. “Watch yourself, child.”
Ignoring him, she turned to her sister. “Nura,” she said. “Did you see what caused the hole?”
The older girl nodded. “One of our spaceships shoots it down.”
Immediately, the old man left the room, leaving the girls alone. Seconds after his departure, Nura began to cry. Her sister took her hand.
“What's wrong?” the younger sister asked.
“Oh, Mysa,” the older girl sobbed. “Because you embarrassed him, he is going to send you away.”
Before Mysa could comfort Nura, the old man returned.
“Tell me of your dreams,” he commanded the younger girl.
“I don't have dreams,” the little girl replied.
“Nonsense,” he said. “All of our kind have dreams.”
“I don't,” Mysa assured him.
The man was silent for several moments. When he finally spoke, it was to confirm Nura's fears. “Mysa Nal,” he said, “for your abnormalities, I have no choice but to banish you from our planet.”
Nura began to cry, but Mysa stood unflinching. The man was unnerved by the little girl's stare and finally looked away.
As two guards entered to escort Mysa back to her room, Nura rushed to the old man. “Grandfather,” she pleaded. “Please don't send Mysa away.”
There was no softening of his heart. “Once she's gone, you will quickly forget all about her. Now, wipe your tears and go play.”
Nura stared at the man in disbelief; all love for him gone in a broken heartbeat. Slowly she turned and walked away, not even bothering to look back.
Part Two
Naltor 2986—
Silk sheets slid from the bed into a crumpled heap as Nura Nal bolted upright. Moonlight slipping through the curtains illuminated the beads of perspiration that covered her shapely figure. A figure lying beside her began to stir as his hand searched for the missing sheet.
Nura looked at the young man, then gave him a shove. “Get out,” she said.
The young man, now fully awake, looked at her in confusion. “What...?”
“Get out now,” she demanded.
The young man knew the day would come when Nura Nal tired of him as a lover, but he never expected it to occur in the middle of the night. “But...” he started to protest.
She gave him another shove and sent him sliding off the side of the bed. “I said now.”
Gathering up his clothes, he quickly dressed and left.
“Lights, on,” she said aloud.
The lights came up slowly, allowing Nura's eyes the opportunity to adjust. Once it was at her desired brightness, she rose from her bed. Crossing the floor, she passed through an opening. “Bath,” she said, and a large recess in the floor began to fill with perfumed water. Descending the three steps, she dipped her toe into the water. Satisfied with its warmth, she lowered herself into the water and let it rise around her.
As she soaked and the tension faded from her limbs, she began to focus on what woke her so abruptly. In the warmth of the water, her eyes began to grow heavy. Her mind began to drift toward slumber when, suddenly, she knew. A dream. A powerful, important dream, yet, for some reason, she was unable to recall what it was about.
Knowing there was a dream, but no knowing its importance began to negate the relaxing effects of the bath. Standing, she took a towel from a pedestal and began to dry off. She let it drop to the floor and picked up a second towel. Once it covered her hair like a turban, she returned to her sleeping quarters and opened her closet.
Sorting through her outfits, she chose a high-collared silver body sleeve that would leave her arms and legs exposed, as well as an oval opening that revealed a tantalizing bit of cleavage. She then chose a pair of midnight blue leggings followed by a pair of thigh-high silver boots. Tossing the outfit on her bed, she crossed to a dressing table and sat down. Unwinding the towel, she tilted her head—first to the left, then to the right—and dried her hair. Returning to the bed, she donned the body sleeve and leggings. Returning to her dressing table, she began to brush her hair; natural curls began to appear with the slightest of coaxing. Once she was satisfied with her appearance, she slipped into her boots and left her sleeping quarters.
Her living quarters revealed Nura to be a young woman used to living a pampered lifestyle. Furniture and art from off-world sat—or hung—tastefully in specific spots throughout the room; each positioned to enhance its beauty. Thick rugs of red and gold covered the marble floor. Beside a white, backless couch stood a young man in his early twenties.
A light blue tunic clung to his thick chest, revealing every muscle and ripple his torso had, yet left his arms bare; it fell a few inches shy of his knees. He also wore white leather sandals that wound their way up his legs to his calves. In his hands he held a pitcher of water and a tray of fruit. Passing by him, Nura traced a finger across his chest before taking a large berry from the tray.
Proceeding to a blank wall, she spoke, “Window.”
The whiteness of the wall faded to reveal a large picture window that looked down on the city. It was still dark out, but a pencil-line of sunlight could be seen tracing the edge of the horizon. She stared into the distance for a few moments before turning her back to the window. She managed five steps before something stopped her; a sound.
It was so faint she thought she had imagined it. Glancing at the young man—who stood staring straight ahead—she could tell he had heard nothing. That brief distraction, however, was enough to allow the sounds identification to slip from her grasp.
“What is wrong with me?” she asked aloud. “First, my dream evades me, and, now this.” She approached the young man. “Can you tell me what is wrong with me this morning?”
He only looked her in the eye because she had addressed him. “There is nothing wrong with you,” he said. “You are perfection at all times.”
Nura gave him a smile and patted his cheek. “Of course you would say such flattering things,” she said. “You hope to one day share my bed.”
To his credit, the young man did not blush. “One can dream,” he replied.
Nura ran her hand across his chest. “There is hope for you, yet,” she said, taking another piece of fruit.
The food was at her lips when she heard the sound for the second time and, again, the young man appeared not to hear. She tilted her head slightly. “Did you hear that?”
“I'm sorry,” he said “but, I still heard nothing.”
The young woman dropped onto the couch and put her head in her hands. She hear the young man speak, but not what he said. Looking up, she asked him to repeat it.
“I simply said if it was important, you would remember it; if not, you will quickly forget it soon enough. Don't let it trouble you,” he said.
Nura jumped to her feet and, grabbing the young man by the ears, pulled his head to her and gave him a kiss. Although thoroughly surprised, he managed to keep his tray firmly in hand.
“What was that for?” he asked.
“That was for jogging my memory,” she said. “The sound; it was a voice. It was telling me to...”
“Remember,” the voice repeated, more clear to her this time.
And she did. Her mind went back in time twenty years. She remembered her younger sister—a sister she had forgotten—and everything that had occurred the day Mysa was taken from her. She also remembered her elusive dream. Mysa was coming home.
Part Three
Zerox 2986—
The young woman glided around the stone obelisk, her diaphanous gown clinging to the curves of her stark white skin. Stretching forth her hand—stopping a hair's width from the obelisk's surface—she began to trace the arcane symbols carved into the stone's smooth surface. Upon completing each tracing, a spark of magic would arc from stone to flesh.
“Excruciating, isn't it?” Mysa Nal asked.
There was no audible response.
“I know it is, Lover,” she said, spitting the last word from her mouth like it was rancid meat. “When I crafted the spell, I made certain all of your senses remained in tact save for your ability to speak.”
She traced another symbol and smiled when the magic, again, reached across the empty space to caress her fingertips.
“My voice must surely be as poisoned honey to your ears, yet you still gaze longingly at the curves of my body. Does the scent of my perfume play upon your memories of our nights together; I know it is your favorite of all my perfumes. It must be maddening, desiring to have me, yet, in the same instant, despising me for binding you body and soul to this obelisk.”
Again, she heard nothing but her own breathing. Raising her right hand, the young woman gazed at the green energy emanating from the ring on her index finger. “The pain you have felt thus far has been but a precursor to what is to come.”
Although it had no effect on the outcome, she extended the ring towards the obelisk. “Shrink.” The word was spoken as an undeniable command.
The stone began to shudder, then decrease in size. Within seconds, the obelisk was no bigger than the stone in her ring. She smiled, knowing how much her captive had suffered.
An elderly man wearing a simple tunic, breeches, and a leather apron entered the room. “It is done, Mistress?” he asked.
“It is,” Mysa replied.
Gnarled fingers stretched forth and gently grasped the stone. Raising a jeweler's lens to his eye, he examined the miniaturized obelisk. “Exquisite,” he finally said. “And he still has his senses?”
“Of course,” Mysa said, smiling.
“Serves him right for what he did to you,” the old man replied. “What would you prefer, Mistress?”
Mysa thought for a moment, then said, “I would like it affixed to a silver chain.” Touching the hollow spot between her breasts, she added, “And it should rest here, near my heart.”
The man let his eyes be drawn to where she indicated, but only for a second. He looked away, not for fear of being caught in a moment of lust, for his numerous years had long since put such foolishness behind him, but, in the span of that brief glimpse, he instinctively knew what the length of the chain should be. “How soon do you desire to have it, Mistress?” he asked.
“I am leaving Zerox in two days,” Mysa said. “Have it ready by then.”
“It shall be done,” he said with a nod and a bow as he turned and left the room. “Hear that, Mordru, you lecherous old sod? You're days on Zerox are truly numbered.”
With the old man gone, Mysa, the High Mage of the Sorcerers' World, changed from the robes chosen to entice into those more suited for one of her station. Now properly attired, she summoned a portal and stepped through to the council chambers where several members of the council had already assembled.
Part Four
Considering how she acquired the seat once held by Mordru, she was greeted warmly by most of the council. They all knew how she been abused by the former head of the council (and some secretly envied Mordru for the “pleasures” he enjoyed), so no one held what she did against her. In fact, a few even argued she deserved the seat considering the magic she called upon to gain it. Those inclined to argue against her thought better of it when they considered that same magic.
As a nexus for the numerous mystical realms, the Sorcerers' World council was made up of representatives from the majority of them; Mysa was one of the few who had chosen to reside there permanently. Taking her seat , she glanced around the table to see who was still missing. Most notably absent was the Morgana, Sorceress Queen of Skartaris—a dimension once closely associated with the planet Earth. While she wished the Sorceress Queen were here, the Morgana had already voiced her support for Mysa's choice.
A portal opened behind the seat belonging to Gemworld's representative and the current holder of the title “Princess Topaz” stepped through. Like many of her predecessors before her from the House of Topaz, the current princess was statuesque with shoulder-length hair the color of midnight framing a face of flawless beauty. Her arrival indicated the council now had a quorum and could now begin.
“Members of the Council of Sorcerers' World,” Mysa began. “As is obvious, we are missing various members of the council in the wake of the destruction of the planet known as “Earth”. I have spoken with the Morgana who has informed me the loss of Skartaris' anchor planet has, fortunately, had little more than a ripple effect in her dimension. Still, she is being kept busy trying to keep these effects at a minimum. How have the rest of you fared?”
Princess Topaz spoke first. “Gemworld has had little contact with Earth over the past few centuries. Because of this, we have suffered little damage.”
Master Hxtchntsplcstr spoke next. “We, too, in the 5th dimension have been scarcely affected by the loss.”
Although she was now a permanent resident of Zerox, few members of the council had a connection to the destroyed planet such as the immortal, Madam Xanadu. Her seat was, understandably, empty. She sent assurances she would be fine...in time.
Mysa spoke up after a moment of silence. “As some of you know, I will soon be returning to Naltor.”
Several members of the council nodded.
“Who is to act in your stead while you are away?” The question was asked by a goat-headed being known as Shepherd, the representative of The Red.
“After consulting with the Morgana, Master Hxtchntsplcstr, and Yoran of Cilia, I have chosen Princess Topaz to take my place at the head of this council. Are there any who seek to challenge this decision?”
The ancient wizard, Myrwhydden of Tharn, rose to address those assembled. “Will the princess work on your behalf to keep the balance?”
Princess Topaz rose to her feet. “I will.”
The wizard continued. “Do you trust the princess to return to her seat upon your return?” he asked Mysa. “You are returning, are you not?”
“I do plan to return,” Mysa assured him, “and, yes, I trust the princess will return to her seat once my business offworld is complete.”
“Then, my support is given,” Myrwhydden said. With the addition of his support, the remaining council agreed to Mysa's choice of the princess.
Determining there were no other pressing matters, the council broke up into smaller groups. Shepherd and Yoran spoke, briefly, with Hxtchntsplcstr before joining Mysa.
“Have you any inkling as to when you shall return?” Yoran asked. The Cilian was a being of pure energy in the form of a humanoid. What would have been his head was covered by golden helmet of great power that, a thousand years past, belonged to one of his race called “Nabu”. He also wore an ever-flowing golden cloak and an ornate amulet that Nabu once donned.
“Not long, I hope,” she confessed.
“What takes you away from us so soon after you gained your seat?” Shepherd inquired.
Mysa opened a portal to her chambers and beckoned the two to follow her as she stepped through. Once they were away from those who might attempt to eavesdrop, she revealed her reason for leaving.
“We have those among the council who—some secretly, others not so secretly—carry out the wishes of the Lords of Order and Chaos.” She glanced at Yoran. “Not long after I...replaced Mordru, Madam Xanadu's current apprentice, a young Baaldurian, approached me. She came with a warning from the immortal of forces gathering that would tip the scales in favor of Chaos.”
“The pendulum of order and chaos swings back and forth in cycles,” Yoran said. “While regrettable, it is an inevitability.”
Mysa continued. “This time, however, once the fates favor chaos, an evil will arise that will eliminate the scales completely. When that happens...if that happens...order and chaos will cease to have any meaning. All that will remain is evil.”
“And returning to Naltor will prevent this?” Shepherd asked.
“Honestly, I am not sure,” she replied. “The reason I go to Naltor is because of the second part of the girl's warning. The arising forces seek to draw my sister into their web, and that is something I will not allow.”
Part Five
Nura was growing impatient; Mysa was coming home. Once she remembered her sister, the memories of their brief time together as children flooded back and she couldn't wait to see her again. Although her sister had yet to make actual contact with the news, Nura was as sure of the fact they would be reunited as she was her own name. What had Mysa been all these years? What had she been doing? These, and a host of other questions, were constantly on her mind.
As she stood staring out her window and sipping a glass of Quaalian wine, she heard a beep indicating someone was desiring to speak to her. She knew, even without her precognitive abilities, it was her grandfather. Before answering, the memory of her sister's last day on Naltor returned. The words her grandfather had spoken, promising she would forget Mysa in time, were strong in her mind and, for a moment, she was thankful she was not a telepath for if she were, the old man would surely feel her anger.
“Yes, Grandfather.”
The old man's image suddenly appeared in the lower right-hand corner of her window. “Your...presence...is requested in the council chambers,” he said.
Odd, Nura thought, when does he ever do anything but demand from me?
“I shall be there shortly,” she replied.
After a failed attempt to determine what her grandfather wanted, she finished her wine and left her apartment. She paused at the door as a thought crossed her mind. Perhaps it has something to do with Mysa. She quickened her step and made her way to the council chambers.
Moments later, she entered the chambers and was somewhat let down to find her grandfather and a member of the Precommandos waiting for her.
“High Seer,” she said, addressing her grandfather by his proper title. “Captain. How may I help you?”
The captain was a tall, square-jawed man with dark brown hair—graying at the temples—with dark eyes. He was in uniform, a black and gray combination of mesh, leather, and armor-plating; a black, visored helmet was tucked into the crook of his left arm. He spoke. “We have reason to believe a known criminal will soon attempt to make contact with you.”
They must have found out about Mysa, she thought. “Reason to believe?” she asked. “Shouldn't the Precommandos be a little more certain before making accusations?”
“Forgive me,” the captain stammered. “I did not mean that to sound accusatory. My purpose was to merely issue you a warning to stay vigilant. The officer who saw the criminal's arrival only saw fleeting glimpses of you in her vision. That is why I am here, to inquire if you have had any such dreams.”
“Now, it is my turn to apologize,” Nura said. “Thank you for your concern, but I have had no such dreams.”
“Why would a known criminal be seeking you?” the High Seer asked.
“I'm not sure,” she said. “How could I have even met someone of that sort? As you well know, Grandfather, I have never left Naltor.”
“Still,” the captain added, “we would prefer to supply you with a bodyguard until this is all over.”
A spy, you mean, she said to herself.
“Surely, with her talents, Nura will have no need of a bodyguard,” the High Seer said.
He doesn't know.”
Add to that the number of male suitors she has,” he continued, “I have know doubts she will be well watched,”
Nura had never been secretive when it came to her carnal proclivities, but to hear her grandfather speak of them, here, in the council chambers...she was stunned. The look on the captain's face indicated he, too, was uncomfortable with the High Seer's comment.
“Actually,” she said, more to defy her grandfather than a need to be protected, “I would feel safer with a bodyguard.”
The captain raised his helmet up and spoke into a built-in microphone. “Corporal Aq.”
“On my way, Sir,” came the reply.
Seconds later, the doors of the council chambers opened and a young woman entered. The only difference between her uniform and that of her captain's was the rank insignia on their collars. “Corporal Xola Aq reporting as ordered,” the young woman said, snapping to attention. A few inches shorter than Nura, her deep auburn hair was straight and fell no farther than her collarbone.
Nura was somewhat surprised to find her bodyguard was female, but shrugged it off. If Corporal Aq made it into the Precommandos, she was more than capable of providing an additional level of protection.
“I will try not to disrupt your life too much,” the corporal said, “but I will do all I can to protect you.”
Nura smiled. “I look forward to your company.”
Part Six
Corporal Aq entered Nura's quarters first, setting a small overnight bag and her helmet by the door as she did so. She quickly scanned the main living area before allowing Nura access.
“It is clear,” the Precommando said.
Nura entered and closed the door behind her. “So, what now?”
Xola started toward the bedroom door. “I'm going to check out the rest of your quarters and make sure we are alone. You stay here.”
Nura followed her to the bedroom door, but didn't pass through.
After looking around, the corporal pointed to a door. “What is in here?”
“That is my closet,” Nura replied.
Xola cautiously opened the door, then looked back at Nura. “Closet? Ma'am, I could fit half of my apartment in here.”
Nura smiled. “Ma'am sounds much too old; I would prefer you call me Nura.”
The corporal thought for a moment. “Since you are the High Seer's granddaughter, and we will be spending the next few days together, I believe I can do that.”
“Wonderful,” Nura said.
“If you would like,” the corporal continued, “you may call me Xola.”
“I can do that.”
Xola turned and stepped into the closet. A minute later, she emerged. “It is clear.”
Nura pointed to the door on the opposite side of the room. “That is my bathing chambers.”
After seeing the closet, Xola tried to imagine what Nura's bath might look like. Pushing the door open—whatever she was expecting—she was not disappointed. Certain there was nowhere for anyone to hide, she announced, “Your apartment is empty except for us.”
As is struck by the very words Xola spoke, Nura's eyes grew wide. “Something's wrong.”
“A vision?” the corporal asked. She had, like most members of the Precommandos, heard Nura's oneiromancy and precognitive abilities were second only to the High Seer; in fact, had she not been his granddaughter, she would have been at the top of the Precommandos' recruitment list.
“No,” Nura replied. “Rol should have been here.”
“Rol?”
“Rol Purtha,” Nura clarified. “He is my servant.”
Xola normally wasn't fond of the whole servant/master arrangement, but in Nura's case, it was rumored being her servant was a position most men would beg to occupy. “And this Rol should be here?”
“He always knows when I will return and makes certain he is waiting on me,” Nura replied.
“See if you can contact him while I let the captain know,” the corporal said. She quickly crossed the room and retrieved her helmet.
Walking to her window, Nura gazed out at the city for a moment and whispered a silent prayer to the gods of Naltor that Rol wasn't in danger. “Contact Rol Purtha,” she said and a small, blank screen appeared in the lower right-hand corner. Nearly a minute passed without a response.
“The captain is send Precommandos to his quarters,” Xola said, coming up behind Nura.
“He is alive,” a new voice said, “but your people won't find him.”
Both women turned to discover a dark-haired young woman standing just inside the door.
“Who are you?” Xola demanded. “How did you get in here?”
“More importantly,” Nura added, “how is it we did not foresee any of this?”
“There are those who can affect the mind and blind it to the dreams they might have,” the girl replied. “As for me, I can assure you your precious Rol will be returned unharmed if you join us.”
“Who are you?” Xola demanded again. She drew a stun baton and flipped a switch; there was a brief arc of energy as it flared to life.
“Join who?” Nura asked. “Why do you want me to join you?”
“The extent of your abilities are know beyond the atmosphere of you little world,” the intruder replied. “We believe they would be a great help in taking over the galaxy.”
“You're mad,” Nura replied.
The intruder laughed and Xola took advantage of the distraction. Leaping at the young woman, she stretched for the stun baton but was surprised when it passed through her foe.
“She's a Bgztlian,” Nura said. “How can we stop her?”
“Like this.”
All three women turned.
Glowing red bands of energy surrounded the intruder as Mysa stepped through a portal. “She will not be going anywhere.”
Fear like Tinya had never known filled her entire being; never had she felt so trapped, so helpless, so...solid.
Nura rushed to her sister and embraced her. Xola pointed her stun baton at the newcomer.
“There is no need for that,” Mysa assured her. “I am only here to protect my sister.”
Xola lowered the baton, then approached the dark-haired girl. “Is there anyway we can detain her once this energy fades?”
“My spell will keep her solid for a long, long time,” Mysa said.
Tinya began to weep.
“Return Rol,” Nura said, “and we will let you go.”
Mysa put her hand on her sister's arm. “He will not return,” she said.
Nura slapped the intruder across the face. “You've killed him!” she screamed.
Mysa restrained Nura. “He still lives,” she assured her older sister. “Rol Purtha has already joined her companions.”
“Then...then why did they come to me?” The realization that she had been betrayed by one she trusted filled her words with trembling.
“Because you are the strongest precog to ever live,” Xola told her. “You will one day become the High Seer.”
Tinya vanished.
“Where...?” Xola started to asked.
“I sent her back to where she came from,” Mysa said.
“On whose authority?” Xola demanded.
“I sit on the high council of Zerox,” Mysa said. “I did so on my own authority.”
Xola was unsure how to respond.
Mysa smiled. “I did this so her people would leave.” Her voice was more at ease. “There are forces gathering that threaten the universe. With her gone, we won't have to worry about their interference while we make preparations.”
This made sense to the precommando.
“I can't believe Rol betrayed me,” Nura said, dropping to her knees.
Kneeling down beside her sister, Mysa put her arms around her and embraced her. “He didn't betray you,” she said. “He joined them so they wouldn't need you; he did it because he loved you.”