ALL NOVEL CHAPTER 11 “Before the chaos”
CHAPTER 11
“Before the chaos”
Three days earlier in Elinor, another world.
In the middle of the vast room, the silhouette of a beautiful, elegant lady sat upon the ornate, solitary chair. A vaporous light blue dress kissed her curvaceous body, the fabric brushing the floor beneath her heels, darkening towards the tips to form what appeared to be a copy of the starry night sky. At her feet, three steps separated her from the burly man who lay on his knees in front of her, his right hand on his own chest and his face slightly tilted downward, but his gaze filled with adoration for the dazzling woman of unparalleled beauty.
Delicate vines encircled the thick columns and some of the surrounding walls, small flowers of soft hues splashed color on the greenery that broke with the monotonous sky-blue of the precious stones with which the walls were carved.
Despite the spacious room, only the two of them were in there.
Away from prying eyes and the glowing fireflies that played in the quiet garden outside, beyond the large windows.
“The kingdom of Balsac and Bhallys have decided to perform the hero summoning ritual,” he reported.
“Foolish humans... as if that could save them from what is coming,” mocked the lady. And that mighty warrior in golden armor and a long cape, as red as blood, remained silent, listening attentively. “When?”
“In five days” the silence reigned again for a few minutes, while that lady of inhuman beauty, who could make even the gods fall in love, caressed her lower lip with a finger, revealing her long dark nails, which contrasted with her piercing violet eyes.
“Then perhaps it is time to choose our champion,” the knight did not respond. The woman rose from her delicately carved gemstone chair and walked over to the masculine figure and forced him, with a single finger, to raise his handsome face. Even a blind man could see the adoration shining in those glowing ruby eyes, despite the restrained annoyance on his face. “I know you are not happy with the few options we have.”
“My lady, if you allow me, I could...” but the knight could not continue.
“You would die if you faced him, and what would I do without you, then?” He wanted to protest, but he preferred to close his mouth again, lowered his gaze, and tried to think of a plan. “You don’t have to worry so much. We are not as dumb as those humans. Unlike them, we can set restrictions.”
Despite her confident words, the man hesitated. Neither time nor luck were on their side.
“We could choose...” She started to say but the deep and powerful voice of that warrior interrupted the melodious voice of the lady.
“She has already chosen the side of the goddess... she could even become her avatar, although I doubt she’ll get that far.”
“And what about Persephone?”
“She is too much like him. And that’s too dangerous...” he looked up, wanting to make it clear how serious his words were, his concern. “We can’t risk her killing us all,” his voice conveying what his words didn’t say, that he couldn’t even think about the possibility of losing her. He would rather kill them all himself if that were the case.
The lady’s soft hand caressed his cheek tenderly, wanting to ease his worries.
“- ...Then we’ll have to settle with the other one,” a sigh of weariness and resignation escaped from the sensual lips of the beautiful woman.
“That... seems our only option...” he growled helplessly, not entirely happy with the few options they had. He clenched his fists, wishing with all his might that he could wipe the worry off the face of the woman who had ruled his heart for hundreds of years.
Meanwhile, in the kingdom of Balsac.
A lone, feminine figure wrapped in a simple white dress moved along the expansive marble path surrounded by water that led up to a large rectangular piece that jutted out, two steps above the water level, in front of the huge stone statue of the goddess Mhiralla. Daughter of two of the seven main gods, who had long since retired to the seventh dimension, to which no one had access, in search of a well-deserved rest after having created the seven worlds.
The woman, with long hair of such a light blue that it almost seemed white, stopped in the middle of the dais and raised her face, observing the statue’s closed eyes, and its long hair carved in stone. She admired the elaborate work of the craftsman who carved the goddess’s dress in such a way that it seemed to be swaying in the wind.
Seven small cherubs embedded in the circular wall surrounding the gigantic statue held pots of water, filling the pool that kissed the goddess’ feet, and whose liquid flowed through the rest of the room.
According to the ancient records of the priests, they believed the water to help channel the energies of the goddess, although Darla herself disagreed.
The priestess’s knees bent and touched the cold floor. The woman extended her arms towards the goddess and, with a tone of voice full of veneration, exclaimed:
“O great goddess Mhiralla, you who are the only one of the ancient gods who has not forsaken mankind, I turn to you this day to hear my prayers!” Then she joined her hands together in prayer and said the prayers that all the priests of the temple were required to offer twice a day.
Silence reigned in the spacious meditation room, and nothing happened for the next fifteen minutes.
Darla’s knees began to ache. After living for the past five years inside the main temple, anyone would think she would be used to such a display of priestly sacrifice by now.
But she wasn’t.
She was about to get up and retire to rest in her own room when a gentle breeze, coming from nowhere, and everywhere at once, created ripples on the surface of the water.
Curiosity seized her and, unable to resist the temptation, she opened her left eye, peeping slyly, only to see that the statue of the goddess had also opened hers and the glowing blue light from the statue’s eyes enveloped her.
Darla’s heart thundered against her ribs, and a powerful euphoria swept over her. She knew what this meant.
She had experienced it once before.
The goddess, again, had chosen her, a simple peasant girl whose mother had died helping her escape the fearsome demons who were trying to deprive her of her home. Her, and not any other of the many priests who inhabited that temple or any of those scattered throughout the continent of Tanish.
A huge smile broke out on her face, knowing that she was worthy of receiving the words of the goddess.
And the pride of it flooded her being.
Before the last prophecy, which she had received a month ago, it had been over a hundred years since the goddess had chosen a mortal to carry her message.
And that was before the appearance of the last hero.
Exhilarated at such an honor, she closed her eyes and let herself be guided.
Just as the previous time, her vision blurred and a swirl of light enveloped her, blinding her completely. After several minutes of intense light, the colors began to draw themselves as if on a huge white canvas surrounded by thick clouds. A beautiful painting was drawn in front of her eyes and seconds later, she could recognize where she was. It was as if she was looking at the kingdom from the heavens.
She touched the painting and was absorbed by it. She saw herself floating in the air, the treetops hundreds of feet below her feet, and allowed herself to admire the beauty of the majestic landscape. The sun was setting on the horizon, and the two moons were hidden behind the clouds.
On the opposite side of the Lanish duchy, to the east of the kingdom, a huge tower sprouted from the earth, bringing with it a wave of monsters. Soon, her vision changed, as if a magnifying lens focused her sight and the next second she was no longer seeing everything from afar, but only inches above the earth, floating in the air. Thousands of monsters escaped from the tower running around it, others passed through it as if it were nothing more than mist.
Inside the immense tower, ten times taller than the statue of the goddess herself, and deep inside, a huge round stone glowed, calling her attention... almost to her very soul.
Very carefully, the priestess advanced, as if hypnotized by the soft glow of that enigmatic stone.
But she was not the only one there.
When the high priestess of the temple approached that hidden treasure and her fingertips were about to touch it, another being, with long black hair and shrouded in shadows, grabbed it. His enigmatic figure changed, blurring into the silhouette of a man for a second and then becoming feminine the next. But the darkness that enveloped it always remained.
The hairs on the back of Darla’s neck stood on end as a chilling, terrifying smile crept across the shadow-drenched face of that strange being. An ominous feeling swept over her and she felt the visceral need to flee to safety.
Darla knew without a doubt that the goddess was showing her this so that she would change it, so that she would make sure that whoever that creature was, it would never be able to take possession of the power hidden in that stone.
And a part deep inside her wanted to take the strange object for herself.
Immediately, the vision was cut off, forcing her to return to her senses, so she stood up and wiped her battered knees. With a determined step, she walked out of the meditation room, leaving the lone statue of the goddess behind.
As she walked down another long corridor, Darla encountered a priestess of lower rank, who sometimes ran errands for her.
“Send a letter to the king at once and demand an audience! The invocation of the heroes must be brought forward!” The twenty-seven-year-old woman demanded as she marched with a firm and determined step.
Now, she was a priestess with a mission.
The unsuspecting young woman whose greeting died on her lips long before she opened her mouth to speak to her superior, stopped dead in her tracks, surprise stamped on her youthful face. She blinked in confusion for a few moments before realizing that the priestess had continued on her way without waiting for her, turned, and ran after her, waiting for the rest of the message.
“Tell him that the goddess has given me a second prophecy. And that the future of the kingdom depends on it.”