Nicholas Taylor
Legon Awakening
Prologue
“Those at the serpent’s head first swallow the tail of defeat.”
The Senashow walked down a passage taking in his surroundings, trying to remember how to get to the queen’s study. His eyes scanned the dim, torch-lit hall. Flickering light played on the granite, giving it the appearance of shifting in and out of existence. The smell was earthy from the recent rain; he could still taste the last bit of moisture. The scent was not unpleasant; it reminded him of home, as did stone. Most men had a difficult time walking these dark halls without tripping on the uneven stone floor or occasional rug, but this was not a problem for the Senashow, for he wasn’t a man. He was not even human, for that matter.
It was a cool spring night and the castle seemed drafty and cold, no doubt from the feeble craftsmanship of dull human hands. The Senashow hated these old human dwellings. They were so poorly made that they didn’t even keep out the cold. It was cold at home too, but at least you didn’t feel the wind. He honestly didn’t know how these creatures had made it out of the Stone Age.
A particularly uneven stone on the floor caught his attention. Pathetic beasts, thought the Senashow as he walked. They aren’t fit to clean our boot straps, and here our queen, their queen for that matter, is living among them. Disgusting! That was beside the point now. There were more pressing matters on the Senashow’s mind. What if the prophecy is true? What if the new star in the sky this night is a sign that it is coming true? It was not in his nature to believe in what he would call “mindless mysticism,” but he did know that the resistance and the crusade twigs did. If there was anything worse than people believing in prophecies, it was that people usually found ways to make them come true. It was for that reason that he was in this horrid place tonight. One of the signs of the prophecy had come to pass not more than one day ago.
As he passed another corridor he saw a door at the end open, flooding the hallway with light. Bah, thought the Senashow, the animals can’t even see unless it’s as bright as the noonday sun. He was by the kitchens that, when revealed, were full of light that enabled the servants, or rather the slaves, to see what they were doing. As the warm air from the cook fires flowed into the hall, the smell of the food forced him to admit that at least the animals could be taught to cook. Whenever the Senashow passed too close to people he would catch little glimpses into their minds, if you could even call them that. Most showed the fear and panic that the servants felt upon seeing him. Good. Fear your masters, filthy apes! he thought with derision.
As he approached the Queen’s study, he could see the door at the end of the hall. There was a man coming out, another Iumenta like himself. He knew this person. It was Parkas, the Queen’s chief warlord. He was a tall, slender man, with a firm jaw line and an almost wolf-like appearance. His light grey skin shone in contrast to the dark hall, accented by thin lips and pale yellow eyes. At first glance he looked almost weak and frail, but he was an Iumenta like the Senashow. Iumentas, like elves, had deceiving appearances. They were at least fifteen times stronger and faster than any human, with sight rivaling that of any bird of prey, and such sensitive hearing that they can hear a heartbeat across a room. They also were as close to immortal as was possible; they did not age, and would live forever unless physically killed.
None of the Elves or Iumenta looked to be over twenty-five years old. Parkas had been the queen’s chief warlord for over a hundred years. His long silver hair came down past his shoulders, and he was wearing a black belt with a sword attached to it. The sword was in a grey sheath with a polished steel handle. A sapphire embedded in the hilt glinted in the near non-existent light, so fine was its quality.
The Senashow could see that Parkas was looking flustered and displeased. He obviously did not have a good conversation with the queen. Fantastic, thought the Senashow. The queen was temperamental in the best of times, but to have her already upset before he even delivered the news of the prophecy… The Senashow knew that the news of the prophecy would enrage the queen if she took it seriously, and she should, because it was always an uncomfortable subject.
He walked up to the door and knocked three times. A cold voice came from within.
“Enter.”
The Senashow opened the door and entered the room. The Queen was standing in front of an archway that led outside to a terrace and the castle gardens. The candle light mingled with moonlight, bathing the room’s many books and paintings in warmth. The light from the fireplace against the far wall added an almost peaceful glow. The fireplace itself was square and framed in white marble. His eye moved up the large mantle piece above, which was a tapestry.
It was this tapestry that grasped his attention. It was about half as tall as the room and was made of black silk. In the center of the tapestry sat a silver six-pointed star with a solid pale green circle in the center. Around the star was a half circle in the same color green, and on the other side of the star were four smaller six-pointed stars, which were dark gold in color. He walked across the study to place a roll of parchment on the marble inlayed desk, unrolled it and took a quill from the gleaming bronze set to sign his name. Out of the corner of his eye he watched the silent queen as she gazed at the fireplace, where on either side perched two polished bronze dragons. Their tails wound toward the fire and reflected the light across the dragon’s bodies, giving them the appearance of almost dancing in the shifting light.
The Senashow moved to stand in the center of the room. A fine white and black rug with a depiction of two dragons battling was at his feet. Like the bronze set by the fire, the queen would often look at these dragons for hours while she contemplated. Tonight was no different than most. She stood on the rug looking at the fire. She was wearing a floor-length dress of crushed black velvet, her long sable hair flowing like a waterfall down her back. He caught the aroma of her perfume; it was a light sweet scent that reminded him of the sap of scrub brushes from their homeland. The fragrance was deceiving; it made her seem playful and gentle, like just another silly noblewoman, something she was not.
She turned to look at him. Her yellow eyes bored into him. Irritation was etched onto her strong face, her thin maroon lips pursed in a way that he knew all too well. She was wearing a black pearl necklace high on her neck. From it hung a large pale-green stone in the shape of a tear. The stone was not a gemstone, but it still shone brilliantly, and was surrounded with gold. A small grimace crossed her face. She knew that he did not bring good news.
“Good evening, my queen,” the Senashow said, vainly hoping her mood would soften with some pleasantries.
“Is it?” asked the queen in a cold voice. “My dinner is late and I just spent over an hour with Parkas listening to excuses about why the resistance is still standing. Now I suppose I get to listen to more good news from you?”
It was obvious that she was indeed in a bad mood tonight, and that there would be no swaying it. The Senashow paused for a moment to contemplate how to deliver his news to the queen.
She stood there looking at him with those yellow eyes. Her lips were pressed together again and her grey skin seemed to glow with a hot anger. Despite the heat of the fury flowing off her, the Senashow felt ice cold. Her rage would break soon, and he wasn’t sure he could stand the force of it. He didn’t know and, thankfully for him, he would not have to find out.
At that moment there was another knock at the door.
“Enter!” said the queen with a growl. She was starting to lose control.