Please note that all characters, places and information in this story from
the Black Jewels Trilogy completely belong to Anne Bishop. Even those
created by me belong to the author for they involve her races and worlds.
No profit is being made from the creation of this tale and it is purely for
entertainment.
Two years after the Purge
6 / Terreille
Evarian watched them pull the leader of the rebellion into the prison block. Her golden eyes narrowed and she felt the pull of the land crying out in pain. She felt the death of every tree and flower cut or burnt down from the ragging battle.
She rustled her wings in displeasure and the red jewel around her neck flashed in anger. Her hands were tightly gripping the railing. The metal cracked as in was encased in a thin layer of frost.
Her father Jolandar stood next to her, hard golden eyes resting on her face. She swallowed slowly and shoved her anger back down into her core, hoping she hadn't angered him because of her lack of control. He wouldn't be happy if he suspected she wasn't as subdued as he realized.
"You knew this would happen," he said. "It's your birthright to rule these people Evarian. It takes suffering and pain to bring about true peace. And we will bring these savages to their knees so that the true vision of Askavi can be formed."
The immense wave of power that had cleansed the realms two years ago had made the people of Terreille easy pickings for the Eyrien race. Her father stood at the head, a full-blooded eyrien and a warlord prince who wore a Red Jewel. A strong man who had taken the time to educate her in the true ways of the blood. A man who had allowed a woman into the hunting camps so that she could learn to fight. Her three older brothers, who all wore dark jewels, had protected her from the other males.
Her mother had died at her birth and Evarian was glad she was dead. Everyone but her family that spoke of the woman said that she was as cruel as she was beautiful. Although she had never seen a picture, Evarian was told repeatedly that she resembled her mother because there was nothing of her father in her features. The only thing they had in common was her height and slim but muscular built. And of course the thick black hair, golden eyes and wings of the Eyrien race. It didn't matter.
"These people are unworthy to even lick the dust off your boots," he whispered coaxingly into her ear and handed her a glass of wine. "Your mother would have been proud of the woman you have become. A Queen who will lead us all to victory."
She watched the guards secure the man to the whipping posts and strip off his shirt. Laughing, a guard pulled out a metal scourge and started to strike the man's back. She winced with every time the weapon ripped open his skin.
Jolandar sipped a glass of red wine and watched the man being whipped to death with a vicious smile spread across his face. "And once you make the offering, nothing will stop us."
7 / Kaeleer
Jaenelle frowned at the tangled web. This wasn't right.
A week earlier Tersa had disappeared from the realm leaving nothing at the hall but a note saying that she had gone to Terreille to stop a war.
Jaenelle and Daemon had searched Tersa's home for a clue to see what had set the woman off. They found a tangled web. Jaenelle had examined the web closely, but couldn't completely understand it. After placing a preservation spell around it, she had taken it back to the keep and expanded upon it with her own talent.
The web spoke of the delusions of the first-born of the third generation. She shook her head, not understanding. Daemonar was the first-born and growing into a fine yet hard headed youth. His temper and energy mirrored that of his father and he would be a powerful Warlord Prince. It also showed a war brought forth by the secrets and lies of a pseudo father. It said that the next queen of Ebon Askavi was coming and a court would be formed that would completely destroy of the ways of the blood or bring everlasting peace to the realms.
And the choice was dependant on the father.
This web spoke of someone who shared the bloodline of the SaDiablo family.
She swallowed, not yet willing to accept the truth. Her eyes closed. Lucivar and Daemon rarely spoke of the pain they had endured as slaves. It was part of the past they had left behind when moving to Kaeleer. Their family and close friends had respected the silence. But Jaenelle knew, having experienced the torture first hand by the ignorance of her own blood relatives.
The child couldn't be Daemon's, so that only left . . .
She would have to talk to Daemon and ask his opinion about how to broach the subject with Lucivar. How was she going to tell her brother that he had a daughter? Someone that threatened a peace she had created by almost sacrificing her own life.
*Daemon?* she called softly and opened her eyes.
He entered the room cautiously, and knelt down behind her. "What does it say?"
She grabbed his hand and dug her nails deeply into his skin. He didn't wince or pull away from the pain but watched her, silent and questioning. Almost apprehensive, he turned to the web. Taking his time to analyze every thread.
She watched him pale as understanding crossed his face.
"Mother Night."
8 / Terreille
"How long has she been in the sanctuary for?" Colthvar asked his brother Linar.
"A day and a half," Linar replied, with a feral smile. "It appears that our young sister is taking her time. Perhaps I should give her some incentive."
Colthvar grabbed his brohter's arm, and spun him around. "Are you mad? The consequences of-"
Linar pulled free of Colthvar's grip. "Need I remind you who outranks who?"
A small tremor formed in Colthvar's body. "Linar, please."
"Please, what?" he said, and crept into the sanctuary.
It was fairly dark and the priestess stood guard next to the dark oak doors. The altar lay within that room. "May I help you Prince?"
Linar approached her, red jewel glowing. The priestess slowly moved out of his way.
He flung open the doors and saw Evarian sitting on the floor, looking rather dazed. Her head snapped up when he entered.
She frowned and said, "What are you doing here?"
"Just coming in to check on my baby sister," Linar replied.
Evarian smiled weakly. "I didn't expect it to make me feel so alone."
Linar knelt down in front of her and looked down into her hands holding a black jewel.
He grabbed her shoulders roughly. "You'll always have me."
Then he bent his head.
********
Just before his lips touched her, a wave of anger surged forth and she pushed him away. "What in the name of hell do you think your doing?"
Her brother Linar frowned, like he wasn't expecting her to react this way. He believed her still controlled from the lithen.
She blinked, and tried to shove him away. He wouldn't move.
Breathing started to become difficult and her heart wouldn't slow down. There was another presence in her mind, controlling. Something was terribly wrong.
********
The ground shook from a blast of power from a dark jewel.
Colthvar watched Evarian exit the sanctuary, stiffly. No sign of Linar. Something inside of him made him wary of her stealthy approach.
He dropped the flask given to him from Jolandar and edged out of her way. She walked past him without comment, shoulders taunt. Her eyes seemed glazed.
He waited until she was out of sight before running into the sanctuary. The priestess was holding her yellow jewel, and her eyes were filled with fear.
Colthvar entered the chamber and stared down at what was left of his brother.
********
At first, Connar believed it best to wait until after the offering to approach his grand daughter. With her newfound power, not even the combined forces of the Eyrien army would be able to stop her. But as he watched Evarian walk past Colthvar, he realized his error in judgement. Her pent up emotions were finally spilling over.
Almost two day had passed since her last dose of lithen. No one was safe from her now. Although he was tempted to send her back to Jolandar like this, others unworthy of her rage would be killed.
She needed to be contained in order for the drug to wear off and hopefully at that point, her wits would return; if there were any left after centuries of being subdued.
But he would need help and power. He needed to speak to the high lord.
Connar patiently waited for Colthvar to rush past him and catch the winds back to Askavi. He cautiously approached the sanctuary that held the dark altar.
Two years after the Purge
6 / Terreille
Evarian watched them pull the leader of the rebellion into the prison block. Her golden eyes narrowed and she felt the pull of the land crying out in pain. She felt the death of every tree and flower cut or burnt down from the ragging battle.
She rustled her wings in displeasure and the red jewel around her neck flashed in anger. Her hands were tightly gripping the railing. The metal cracked as in was encased in a thin layer of frost.
Her father Jolandar stood next to her, hard golden eyes resting on her face. She swallowed slowly and shoved her anger back down into her core, hoping she hadn't angered him because of her lack of control. He wouldn't be happy if he suspected she wasn't as subdued as he realized.
"You knew this would happen," he said. "It's your birthright to rule these people Evarian. It takes suffering and pain to bring about true peace. And we will bring these savages to their knees so that the true vision of Askavi can be formed."
The immense wave of power that had cleansed the realms two years ago had made the people of Terreille easy pickings for the Eyrien race. Her father stood at the head, a full-blooded eyrien and a warlord prince who wore a Red Jewel. A strong man who had taken the time to educate her in the true ways of the blood. A man who had allowed a woman into the hunting camps so that she could learn to fight. Her three older brothers, who all wore dark jewels, had protected her from the other males.
Her mother had died at her birth and Evarian was glad she was dead. Everyone but her family that spoke of the woman said that she was as cruel as she was beautiful. Although she had never seen a picture, Evarian was told repeatedly that she resembled her mother because there was nothing of her father in her features. The only thing they had in common was her height and slim but muscular built. And of course the thick black hair, golden eyes and wings of the Eyrien race. It didn't matter.
"These people are unworthy to even lick the dust off your boots," he whispered coaxingly into her ear and handed her a glass of wine. "Your mother would have been proud of the woman you have become. A Queen who will lead us all to victory."
She watched the guards secure the man to the whipping posts and strip off his shirt. Laughing, a guard pulled out a metal scourge and started to strike the man's back. She winced with every time the weapon ripped open his skin.
Jolandar sipped a glass of red wine and watched the man being whipped to death with a vicious smile spread across his face. "And once you make the offering, nothing will stop us."
7 / Kaeleer
Jaenelle frowned at the tangled web. This wasn't right.
A week earlier Tersa had disappeared from the realm leaving nothing at the hall but a note saying that she had gone to Terreille to stop a war.
Jaenelle and Daemon had searched Tersa's home for a clue to see what had set the woman off. They found a tangled web. Jaenelle had examined the web closely, but couldn't completely understand it. After placing a preservation spell around it, she had taken it back to the keep and expanded upon it with her own talent.
The web spoke of the delusions of the first-born of the third generation. She shook her head, not understanding. Daemonar was the first-born and growing into a fine yet hard headed youth. His temper and energy mirrored that of his father and he would be a powerful Warlord Prince. It also showed a war brought forth by the secrets and lies of a pseudo father. It said that the next queen of Ebon Askavi was coming and a court would be formed that would completely destroy of the ways of the blood or bring everlasting peace to the realms.
And the choice was dependant on the father.
This web spoke of someone who shared the bloodline of the SaDiablo family.
She swallowed, not yet willing to accept the truth. Her eyes closed. Lucivar and Daemon rarely spoke of the pain they had endured as slaves. It was part of the past they had left behind when moving to Kaeleer. Their family and close friends had respected the silence. But Jaenelle knew, having experienced the torture first hand by the ignorance of her own blood relatives.
The child couldn't be Daemon's, so that only left . . .
She would have to talk to Daemon and ask his opinion about how to broach the subject with Lucivar. How was she going to tell her brother that he had a daughter? Someone that threatened a peace she had created by almost sacrificing her own life.
*Daemon?* she called softly and opened her eyes.
He entered the room cautiously, and knelt down behind her. "What does it say?"
She grabbed his hand and dug her nails deeply into his skin. He didn't wince or pull away from the pain but watched her, silent and questioning. Almost apprehensive, he turned to the web. Taking his time to analyze every thread.
She watched him pale as understanding crossed his face.
"Mother Night."
8 / Terreille
"How long has she been in the sanctuary for?" Colthvar asked his brother Linar.
"A day and a half," Linar replied, with a feral smile. "It appears that our young sister is taking her time. Perhaps I should give her some incentive."
Colthvar grabbed his brohter's arm, and spun him around. "Are you mad? The consequences of-"
Linar pulled free of Colthvar's grip. "Need I remind you who outranks who?"
A small tremor formed in Colthvar's body. "Linar, please."
"Please, what?" he said, and crept into the sanctuary.
It was fairly dark and the priestess stood guard next to the dark oak doors. The altar lay within that room. "May I help you Prince?"
Linar approached her, red jewel glowing. The priestess slowly moved out of his way.
He flung open the doors and saw Evarian sitting on the floor, looking rather dazed. Her head snapped up when he entered.
She frowned and said, "What are you doing here?"
"Just coming in to check on my baby sister," Linar replied.
Evarian smiled weakly. "I didn't expect it to make me feel so alone."
Linar knelt down in front of her and looked down into her hands holding a black jewel.
He grabbed her shoulders roughly. "You'll always have me."
Then he bent his head.
********
Just before his lips touched her, a wave of anger surged forth and she pushed him away. "What in the name of hell do you think your doing?"
Her brother Linar frowned, like he wasn't expecting her to react this way. He believed her still controlled from the lithen.
She blinked, and tried to shove him away. He wouldn't move.
Breathing started to become difficult and her heart wouldn't slow down. There was another presence in her mind, controlling. Something was terribly wrong.
********
The ground shook from a blast of power from a dark jewel.
Colthvar watched Evarian exit the sanctuary, stiffly. No sign of Linar. Something inside of him made him wary of her stealthy approach.
He dropped the flask given to him from Jolandar and edged out of her way. She walked past him without comment, shoulders taunt. Her eyes seemed glazed.
He waited until she was out of sight before running into the sanctuary. The priestess was holding her yellow jewel, and her eyes were filled with fear.
Colthvar entered the chamber and stared down at what was left of his brother.
********
At first, Connar believed it best to wait until after the offering to approach his grand daughter. With her newfound power, not even the combined forces of the Eyrien army would be able to stop her. But as he watched Evarian walk past Colthvar, he realized his error in judgement. Her pent up emotions were finally spilling over.
Almost two day had passed since her last dose of lithen. No one was safe from her now. Although he was tempted to send her back to Jolandar like this, others unworthy of her rage would be killed.
She needed to be contained in order for the drug to wear off and hopefully at that point, her wits would return; if there were any left after centuries of being subdued.
But he would need help and power. He needed to speak to the high lord.
Connar patiently waited for Colthvar to rush past him and catch the winds back to Askavi. He cautiously approached the sanctuary that held the dark altar.
