A/NSorry you had to wait so long for my next chapter guys, but I've kinda been busy with grade 12. However, since I recently quit my job, I've found I've had a bit more time on my hands and so have decided to try and write a chapter a week. (-;
And if you have any suggestions please feel free to review or email me.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything that C.S. Lewis wrote.
Chapter 2
The ancient legend of the white Tarkaan is enshrined in mysterious folds of time, fire-side tales, imaginations of young boys and decaying, cobwebbed tomes. The traditional story goes that the white Tarkaan was one of the many 'sons of Tash' who are responsible for the creation of many of the more masculine emotions. One day on of these 'sons' looked down from Paraiso, the Calormene heaven, and saw a beautiful women with golden hair walking along the bank of a small brook. He instantly fell in love with her and travelled to earth to find her. After a series of trials and adventures (see Volume III – Encounters of Heroism) he found her and declared his love. Unfortunately, the women happened to be of the northern races and such a declaration was strictly forbidden in the Leisecratas de Ceu. Tash soon appeared to them and took his 'son's' immortality. He also avowed that if ever they had a child, they would both die and the child and his decedents: semi-god, semi-mortals, would be cursed by earth and heaven, becoming crueller and more corrupt with each generation until the last decedent was killed by the sword.
The women, already with child, gave birth in the months afterwards and both she and the son of Tash were stricken with an illness that gradually killed them. No-one knows what happened to the child directly afterwards, but later he reappeared, a young man with pale skin, dusty hair and astonishing strength and intelligence. He had travelled from the northern land in which he was born, to Calormene and rose from desperate poverty to become one of the most powerful Tarkaans in the land. He and his decedents were always renound for their daring feats and influence, as well as their increasing cruelty and disreputable associates as the generations passed. However, perhaps the thing that they were most known for was the horrific nature of their deaths…
Crash! Dust erupted everywhere as Altair slammed the volume shut. Spring was in the air and his surging blood cried for freedom. He had to escape from this dim, airless library before he exploded.
As he rushed out of the room, huge piles of books began tumbling and precious, thousand-year-old papers flew. By the time his tutor rose to his feet with an exclamation, he was long gone.
"Altair, where are you going? Come back! Come back this instant! Altair, if you don't come back right now I will speak to your father." The wizened old instructor waddled out of the room. This time, however, the precious tomes and papers stayed reasonably still.