Chapter 2


The fading sky became an explosion of the colors, entwining over the pink sapphire face of the Noracia moon. Distant starlight was entrapped in the folds of crimson and amber haze that spread across the iron arch ways of the city. Through the fog, Shayera Hol saw the other worlds beyond the barriers of her home.

Every beautiful and intense color of rose and violet she captured in the depth of her emerald-grayish eyes was an essence of a cosmic power the quadrants imprisoned with shadows of nothingness, clusters of swirling nests of stardust-oceans of emptiness with waves of fire, and misty voids which was written on the stone tablets that named the sanctuaries that collected the souls of her ancestors.

Sighing, the young Lieutenant kept her sharp eyes locked on gleaming metal goblet clutched in her firm grasp. Her lips were fastened into a vacant frown, and scarlet locks draped over her bare shoulder, covering the tiny sliver crescent scars etched on her hard muscle. She lifted the goblet to her pale rose shaded lips, taking a steady gulp of the sweetened nectar, her sharp features disarmed from her hardened warrior exterior, and ebony hawk mask lay on the stone ledge. She tried to ignore the stirrings in her body; she had to focus on her training and condition herself even further with combat sparring matches, flight maneuvers, and hunting tactics.

Probing her fingers over the rough surface of the stone, she tried to ease her restless mind-tried to cloak the prisoner Thomas Malone into the dark recesses of memory. He had become a lethal and intriguing distraction. She fought to bury her emotions, and regain her control with discipline and order.

Enough, Shayera thought in discipline as she slammed the goblet down hard against the stone , and she acutely listened to the sound of footsteps behind her rigid frame. Her muscles coiled and green eyes became feral; she pivoted her boots, and pulled out her dagger with one swift motion of her hand. She raised the weapon above her shoulder. fingers curled tightly as she shot a dangerous glare at the shadow.

"Ease your weapon down, Shayera. I may be old but I attend to live for a few more periods of time." came a soothing and older voice from the shadows of the pillars. Shayera lowered her dagger, and stiffened her lips, and latched her harden glare on the elder , dressed elegantly in embroidered amber gown adorned with the red symbol of a hawk, her wings were withered and gray with age. She observed her surrogate daughter with a pair of tender gray eyes and said softly. "You've always been a tough child to raise in world where war threatens to break us. You are a good and efficient warrior, but you also forgotten that beyond the mask and armor you are still a young maiden and deserve to have freedom away from the battles."

Shayera's head lowered, her jaw tight, she replied,"Have you come to lecture me again, Orena?"

"Lecturing you never works, since you're too stubborn to listen to old elder like me, Shayera." Orena whispered, inching closer. Her tarnished silver hair twirled in the stale heated breeze. She placed her frail hand on Shayera's shoulder, feeling the muscles tense in its wake. "You know I never wanted this life for you, Shayera, but you so determined to become a soldier just like your father that I couldn't bear with myself to make you a captive of your desires. I allowed you to join the forces and you have done well, completed many missions and saved lives." She narrowed her eyes down, and lightly shook her head. "I sense that there is a danger lurking inside of you-something that once it becomes unleashed it will be hard for you to stop."

"You're afraid that I will become just weapon forged by hate?" Shayera questioned harshly. folding her arms over the golden breast plate. "I know my limits and weakness, Orena. I was trained to become soldier for a purpose of protecting our world from outsiders. I will carry out that mission until every ounce of breath escapes my body."

"When I took you in after your father died in action...I had every desire of protecting for his fate." Orena shot back to her, firmly. "I raised you as my own daughter and loved you as equal as my son." She closed her eyes tightly for a long moment, pressing a fist into the center of her chest. "A maiden of Thangar is who you are supposed to be, Shayera. Not a soldier that craves of battle -the elders have been searching a husband for you. since your father's sacrifice saved the general's son."

Shayera shook her head fiercely and solely continued to stare at the elder underneath strands of red. They stood in silence, allowing the tension to fester in their veins, until she turned and leaned her body against the ledge. «I do not desire to have a husband or to become promised with someone." she growled out, her voice stern and rough. Her eyes became embers of green fire. "I will not be used as some prize for an elder's son. It's really throwing your freedom away and becoming a slave without the shackles."

Orena frowned, her feathered wings fluttered as she expressed her frustration. "Once the elders have chosen you husband, Shayera, you will still be a part of the forces. That will not change."

Shayera's eyebrows furrowed deeper and a sullen look overtook her ivory features. "You want me to complete this mission for you, Orena." she asked, her eyes masked with disdain. "You want me to give up my freedom has a maiden and serve a husband that wasn't chosen by my heart, but by the elders words and keep my mouth shut..." she allowed her thoughts to drift back to the human captive imprisoned in the dingy cell. She shook her head, avoiding her surrogates' mother's placating stare. "Our world is becoming a savage place again-almost like Icthultu has come back to rule over us again with his vile demands of sacrifice for order."

"How dare you say that creature's foul name, Shayera." Orena snarled coldly, clenching her jaw. "That name is poison to us. The Old Ones are dead. They will not come back to our world." She wrenched her eyes away, and sealed her lips before exhaling out a ragged breath. "The new threat that has invaded our barriers is that human scum you spoke with in the dungeons."

"The human scum in which you speak of, Orena, he has a name." Shayera growled back in defensive tone, curving her lips into a disagreeing scowl. "Thomas Malone is not dangerous to our empire. He is like an Old One who could threaten to devour our people or Gordanian butchered." She glared at Orena with insurable, unyielding green eyes and kept her emotionless unreadable. "I sense he can be trusted and that he doesn't deserve the punishment the elders will condemn him to endure."

Orena regarded her with irritated and angry eyes. Her tone laden with disgust. "The human will punished. His fate is sealed, Shayera? Why do you care about this outsider?" she asked with a cryptic voice.

Shayera flashed her eyes furious at her. "We are not hostile, Orena," she seethed. "We defenders of peace and justice not harvesters of death. The human is not a danger but a victim of unfortunate situation. I trust my instincts and, they tell me that his presence on our world was indeed an accident. He had no intention of invading our barriers."

"You are letting your emotions guide your actions, Shayera." Orena argued, turning away from her. "Any outside that enters our world is a threat to this empire. You know that better than rest of us?"

Shayera's faced hardened into a fierce scowl. "I refuse to allow the human to serve punishment." She spoke with a strong voice, keeping her poise regal and stern as she locked her green eyes with the elder's gray orbs. "We need to find out the truth from him before making the decision. He deserves to speak and defend himself."

Orena shook her head, "Don't lose yourself to this illusion the scum is playing on you, Shayera."

"Why suddenly so hardened, Orena, I thought I was the one that carried that exterior." Shayera echoed back, twisting the corners of her full lips into a coy smirk. She moved away from the elder, her wings rubbed against the pillar as she advanced to the archway door.

"Don't become dense with this human." Orena called out, her voice laced with spire and her eyes darkened with malice. "He might become your weakness."

Shayera turned and glared back at her, feeling her blood boil in her veins, and whispered with a faint breath. "Or my strength."