\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/560658-Prologue
Item Icon
Rated: 13+ · Book · Action/Adventure · #1374190
Love, hate, tyranny, rebellion, war...let the saga begin!
<<< Previous · Entry List · Next >>>
#560658 added January 12, 2008 at 8:26pm
Restrictions: None
Prologue
"What the Eye Hath Beheld" is about two siblings who are split at birth to satisfy the vain hopes of a dying empress to be the 'Mother of the Unifiers'. The boy grows up with roving merchants, while the girl becomes the Princess, daughter of what would become the most feared Emperor of Itheryn. Through battle, intrigue, and deception all the pieces of a puzzle bridging prophesy, ages, and souls fall into place.
Because of the Integrity of the central characters, this story encompasses the complexity and steadfast faith that those of conviction can relate to. In the end, it is a story that is heroic, and will last in the memory of the reader forever.


Prologue


A man shivers in the frosty, moonlit winter evening. The trees of Dunnelum forest bends wearily to the ever-present gusts, adding to his unease. Three more steps bring him to a low hut, sheltered by a copse of tall, ageless oaks. Knocking, he hunches his cloaked shoulders. He was about to knock again when the weathered door opens and a craggy face appears.
“Thank you for coming Ristren. I have deciphered the text, just as you asked”
“And…”
“You shall see.”
Ristren came inside. He saw a walking stick and packs lying on the ground, like she was preparing for a long trip. Then the old woman caught his attention.
Her face grew very disturbed as she handed him the manuscript.
“Old Tathurn was a prophet, and all that he said would happen have come true, all but this.” So saying, she pointed down to the faded runes.
“He predicted that if the Empire would not repent of their sins, a great evil would come upon us.  Again, it will come, and again, if we do not repent. A wind, an ever present, never ending wind, would herald the coming of some new punishment.”

“Tathurn did not live to see the fall of the Stayre Empire because of their greed and lust for power, or the un-repentance of the people to God. The people still have not repented, even with all the signs of God’s wrath, and as you can see, the wind has come upon us, reminding the people of their failings. Here is the prophesy;”

“In the shadow of darkest of evenings,
In an under lit castle yard square,
An evil will rise,
From great sadness it flies,
Its wings unto all do bring death,”


“But there is also the good prophecy, the one that foretells of happier times to come. There is a note here that mentions ‘Prophesy Nevarra.’ You’ve probably heard of it.”

“The city bright, in morning light,
Will then bring earth, Twins of great worth
Restoring peace, the wind shall cease
All shall be right once more”


“Do you think it will happen soon?” Ristren’s eyes were bright with hope. Then a shadow flitted in his eyes. “Will the twins or the Evil?”
“I think that that should be an easy answer.” The Old Woman bent and stirred the coals with a stick. Looking up again, her face half lit by the fire, said, “Its wings unto all do bring death.”


4 weeks later, in the City of Tyrral, Capital of Alionistoe:

Emperor Orric had fallen asleep in his throne room, waiting for news of his wife. She had gone into labor seven hours ago. His dreams were restless, and he could never quite get into a deep sleep before something jolted him awake.
“Emperor Orric…” Laerst, the Emperor’s steward approached quietly and gently touched him on the shoulder. The emperors’ eyes cracked open and he shifted a bit towards him.
“The Doctor has ordered Her Majesty to be undisturbed for the day or two, your Highness.”
Orric lifted his head from where it had rested on his arms. His face showed the strain of his waiting for the doctor’s word on his wife and child, and his eyes that he had not processed what Laerst just said.
“Mhhph, what’s that?” He shook his head a bit, rubbing his temples. Turning to face Laerst, he gave a questioning glance.

“The doctor has ordered that no one shall disturb the Empress for the day at least, Sire.”
The emperors’ face conveyed first shock, then concern, then anger.
“What right has he to keep me away from my wife!!” He exclaimed, pushing himself out of his throne. His voice was rising with each word.
“Sire, she is in a grave…..”Laerst was cut of by the emperors’ roar.
“What is the excuse he deems gives him the authority to prevent ME from SEEING my WIFE?!”
Anger radiated from Orric as he stormed through the hallways. Soon came to the door of the empress’s chambers.
He quickly turned to Laerst, who was just arriving after a hasty pursuit. His voice had gone deathly quite.
“The child?”
“Fine your majesty. A healthy Jaustefree boy.” Laerst bent over and breathed deep. He had chased the Emperor up three flights of stairs, weaved through a maze of hallways, and slid through chambers. He was short of breath.
“Just fine.” he panted. Looking over his shoulder, the Emperor said to Laerst, “You need to get in shape.”
Laerst looked at the tall, ruggedly handsome ruler, his tawny hair, molten eyes, and tan, rippling features. He had all the good looks and brains that lead people to think him a good and wise leader. ‘All he needs is a heart that is not quick to anger…or corrupted by a cruel father.’ he thought. But he did not voice his opinions. All he said was “Yes sire”.

The door opened and the Doctor ran right into Orric. Jolting backwards, his queer seeing glasses slid down his long nose. His arms piled high with instruments and cloths, he scrambled cross eyed, to push the glasses up.
“S-s-s-s--Sire!” He exclaimed, stuttering, focusing on the Emperor’s chest.
“I’m so s-ss-s-sorry” Unhooking one of his tools from the Emperor’s clothing, he straightened as best he could with his load. Glancing to a servant standing by the door, he motioned to him with the tips of his fingers to free his arms.
As soon as his arms were able to move freely, the doctor looked the Emperor’s face.
“Th-the Empress is n-n-nn-not to be disturbed.”
“And why not?” Orric’s eyes narrowed as he spoke in a dangerously calm voice.
Laerst winced for the doctors’ sake.
“Sh-sh-she,” he gave a furtive glance through the crack in the door. “She thought that if the ki…”
“Truykz!”
The Empress’s commanding voice caught him short. He gave the Emperor a sheepish, yet disturbed look and went back into the room
“Y-y-yes, Your Highness?”
Her fiery blue, gold flecked eyes snapped at him.
“I would like to be undisturbed for the rest of the night.”
“If that were only possible La….”
“I will be ALONE for the rest of the night!” Empress Taeriun forced herself upright, her beautifully crafted face setting in hard lines, amber gold hair flowing around her.
“Are we clear?” There was no question about the tone of her voice, or about the anger that would be unleashed if she were not obeyed.
“W-w-well, Your Highness.” Another look in her eyes and Doctor Truykz submitted. “Yes, we’re c-c-clear.”
Motioning for the other servants to leave the room, he bowed. The midwife headed towards the door.
“Wait.” The Empress breathed. Taeriun motioned the midwife and the doctor over and put her finger to his lips, and gave a pleading look to the midwife.
“Do what I asked. Nobody is to know.” She violently whispered.
Truykz and the Midwife backed away, and just as he was about to close the door behind them, she mouthed, ‘No one.” Glancing at the midwife, their faces turned grave as they headed down the hall.

The Emperor, after hearing his wife’s vehement answer, left also.
Laerst’s brow creased in puzzlement, as he slowly made his way back to the throne room. He cast one glance behind him, at the silver inlaid door into the Empress Taeriun’s chambers.

A day later,
When the doctor allows the Empress Visitors…


Emperor Orric entered the room in silence. With the first baby a stillborn, he was unsure how to act around children…especially newborns. The Empress lay in her bed, ghostly white with two children, one in each arm. The Emperor’s shadowed face lit up at the sight of his babies sleeping faces. A thought pierced his joy. ‘Twins?’
As he turned to his wife and saw the beads of sweat on her forehead glistening, his brow creased in concern.
“What is wrong?” He asked the doctor. Truykz gaze pleaded with the Midwife, who stood in the corner. She nodded and stepped forward, facing the Emperor, with quick glances at Taeriun.
“The Empress has committed…” She was cut off by a sharp glare from the Empress.
“The Empress has reached the point of death, Your Majesty. It is a miracle the babe…the babes will survive. We have done all we can.” Here, she bowed her head, though her eyes flitted between the doctor’s face, and the Empress’s. Seconds passed as the emperor’s brain processed what she had just said. His voice, low and whispered at first rose in volume.
“You’re saying that my wife is dying?!” Orric’s eyes flashed with pain and anger.
“I cannot believe this!”
He turned and hastily knelt at Taeriun’s side and grasped her hand. She turned her eyes to his face, and smiled.
“These are your children Orric. I hope that they are the ones to fulfill the prophesy.”
Suddenly her face became a mask of anguish, as pain racked her body. Her back arched, while she fiercely gripped her husband’s hands. When the pain lessened, she laid her head back, and her glassy, feverish eyes turned to rest on Orric. Slowly smiling, love in her eyes, she tried to speak again but was only able to utter “I’m sorry…” before her eyes closed for the last time, never to open again.

Orric stood up slowly, his face full of grief. He turned to Truykz and the midwife and shouted them out of the room while servants took the children from their dead mother. As the door closed, he turned his now hard face to his dead wife. Walking over, he pulled the sheet up over her pale, beautiful face and kneeled by her in stony silence.

The city of Tyrral rang with cries of joy as children ran through the streets trailing streamers.  The crowd in the palace yard waited to hear if the Emperor and Empress had a son or a daughter. The trumpets rang out in jubilation. All heads turned to the palace balcony as the Steward appeared. A hushed silence ensued, then a roar of elation.

“They are Twins!”


**Edited by Nakhimov Author IconMail Icon

Blair Hansen
© Copyright 2008 Katerina de Annika (UN: history.luver at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Katerina de Annika has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
<<< Previous · Entry List · Next >>>
Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/560658-Prologue