By: Silvanoshei
Disclaimer: I do not own anyone or anything from the Dragonlance series
Author's Note: Well, I'm back … Silvan is determined to make his acclaim to fame… and I've got a few bumps on my head to prove it. Please enjoy.
(Author: *holding an ice pack to her head* Did you really have to throw the lamp at me?
Silvan: *glare* Work slave.)
II.
The tears of Lorac,
Held in thrall by the orb and by Cyan Bloodbane,
Minion of Queen Takhisis,
Minion of evil,
Who alone had the powerGroggily, Silvanoshei woke to the soft knocking on his door. Sunlight filtered in through the glass and cast sparkling, golden patterns of different shapes on the floor. A dove could be heard cooing on the knotted willow tree next to his balcony.
Sticking his head into his swan-feathered pillow, Silvan wished resentfully, "I hope that damn bird would shit all over that frickin' person at the door." Unfortunately, this did not happen. The Knocker persisted. Silvan, in response, put another pillow over his head. Finally, realizing that Silvanoshei wasn't going to get up to answer, Kiryn opened the door cautiously. Seeing the lump on the bed that was his cousin, he smiled slightly and walked in, his chrisom robes swishing around his ankles. Sitting in the regal, straight-backed chair next to Silvan's large canopied bed, Kiryn asked in a hesitant voice, "Silvan? It's been about six hours since sunrise. You should get up and enjoy your kingdom."
"Mhmm…" was the only response. Sighing, Kiryn leaned forward and prodded his cousin in the back. The bump did not move.
"Ah. Well then, I shall send your servants in to make you presentable. I hope I will see you at luncheon, which we will be having with my uncle … and Glaucous," Kiryn's voice grew cold. Standing up, Kiryn brushed his golden hair out of his eyes, and walked to the door, telling the bodyguards to let the King's servants in as he was going out.
Hearing the door shut softly, Silvan rolled over, tangling himself more in his jasmine-scented sheets, and stared at the heavy curtains by the window, trying to memorize their folds. All his feelings were muddled together from his confusing night, not to mention he'd gotten only a few hours worth of sleep. He felt like a jigsaw puzzle, one that had not been solved and from which several pieces were missing. He curled up in a ball and hugged his shaking shoulders, trying to forget the visions he had seen in the night. But then his servants began to arrive, hoisting him out of bed, bathing and clothing him once again, and Silvan was forced to shelve his thoughts. Finished, Silvanoshei strolled down the white, glassy halls, the jewels on his garment clinking slightly. Every elf, courtiers, servants, lords or ladies, bowed or curtsied his or her finest when they saw him approach. However, Silvan did not acknowledge them and headed to the grand antechamber. He was to have luncheon with Kiryn, Glaucous, and General Konnal there, a task-messenger had informed him.
He reached the gold door, carved with detailed murals depicting elves walking among trees and paddling down mellow streams, and the guards outside hastened to open the entrance and announce his presence. "Announcing his Highness, the Speaker of the Stars, King Silvanoshei," one said in a proud voice, throwing the doors open dramatically, and stepping aside. Everyone in the room that had been sitting stood up immediately and bowed to their king. Silvanoshei nodded and a servant drew out his cushioned, regal chair. Swishing his green and gold trimmed robe out of the way, Silvanoshei took his place at the head of the long alabaster table. The rest sat down after he had taken his seat, folding his hands on the cold table. The room was decorated with handcrafted vases and on the walls hung paintings of various landscapes. On a large gold stand in the corner, perched a snowy white hawk that had been in the royal family of Silvanesti for over fifty years. It tilted its head as Silvanoshei sat, blinking its penetrating yellow eyes at him and seemed to know who he was. Silvan turned his attention back to the table and glanced at Kiryn, who gave him a small smile.
On the other hand, General Konnal looked stonily ahead but Glaucous smiled warming, at him and asked, "Your Majesty, I hope you slept well?" Kiryn looked over at the advisor, clearly displeased that the advisor and mage had even spoken.
Replying politely, Silvan answered, "My sleep was rather unsettling. I'm still trying to accept the fact of my new status."
Glaucous, whose expression was slightly worried, leaned forward and answered, "Well, I hope your Majesty's health has not been compromised. I really do think-" At this point, Kiryn cut in.
"I do believe that our King is quite alright. Shall we get down to business?" he asked pointedly.
"Ah. Yes, Prince Kiryn," Glaucous said, ruffling his feathers, affronted. "The daily report is nothing very eventful. Your people have, over all, accepted you as the new ruler-"
"By what do you mean 'over all,' Glaucous?" interjected Silvan.
"Well, there appear to be some pockets of resistance who believe that military power is the only way to rule our nation, but these numbers are relatively small…"
Silvanoshei glanced over at Konnal, who facial expression showed that he was only politely curious. "They are probably just political zealots. He might have no connection at all but still, I had better keep an eye on him…" Silvan thought suspiciously.
"…In fact, the morale among our people has been at its highest for a long time. Another note is that the wasting sickness continues to plague our people. There have been several other reported deaths," Glaucous continued, "The Senate also has several decrees it would like you to look at your Highness."
"Oh, of course. And I will need your expertise on those, Glaucous," Silvan replied.
"It would be my pleasure to serve you, my King," said Glaucous flashing a charming smile in his direction.
The hawk screeched, leaning forward on its perch, eyes narrowed.
"Do you thirst or hunger your Majesty? Shall we ring for the meal?" Kiryn inquired, slightly shaken from the hawk's interruption.
"Yes, I'm famished," Silvan said agreeably.
Picking up the sapphire bell next to him, Kiryn rang once. The other pair of doors in the room opened at once. Several elves in golden-tasseled uniforms set down platter after platter of delicious food. The table was soon covered with trays full of sweet pastries, brown speckled quail eggs, herb salads with poppy dressing, spicy teas, delicate fruits and a wide assortment of nuts. Once the servants had shaken out each official's napkin, the four began to pick daintily at their food. The servants also provided a large rabbit for the hawk, which it munched contentedly. The conversation was turned to dancing by Glaucous and Silvan totally forgot about his formal duties and responsibilities.
After the luncheon, Silvan wandered the sweet gardens outside aimlessly. The bees whizzed about, filling the air with their rumbling humming. The gray stoned paths seemed to continue for all eternity, their passage filled with wonders. Silvan strolled slowly, marveling at every leave, gazing raptly down at the silver and gold koi in a large pond from a small wooden bridge, watched the bobbing of the cattails, and listened to the whisperings of the earth. Somewhere chimes sang in the breeze. Passing a large hedge, Silvan stopped at a bench and sat, his robes flowing in an emerald waterfall of silk that blended almost perfectly in with the leaves that surrounded him, and leaned forward, his elbow bent resting on his knee to gaze at a rose. Learning by heart the crinkled of a petal here and the sparkle of a thorn there. He sang the lyrics of a new ballad to himself under his breath, caressing the flower's velvety petals with his fingertips, teasing it.
"Do you enjoy our garden, your Majesty?" a voice next to him asked. Turning in surprise, Silvan found himself sitting next to a crouching young man. He was dressed in a blue and silver high-necked tunic, his hands covered in earth and the knees of his pants were grass stained. He was stooping over a small orange flowered bush, pruning it gently.
"Yes, it's lovely. I doubt I have ever been in such a beautiful place," Silvan answered, sitting up straight, curious of the Woodshaper. Most elves refrained from speaking to their ruler, out of respect of course. Just a "Yes, sir" or "Is there anything else you require, my King?" accompanied by a bow or curtsy. Silvan found this custom boring and incommodious.
"Oh, forgive my rudeness your Highness. My name is Amon," said the elf, standing and bowing, dusting off his hands.
"Ah, Amon, you have been a Woodshaper for some time, correct?" Amon signaled that he had. "Then, if you would, tell me what kind of rose this is," Silvan pointed lazily at the flower that now drooped slightly before him.
"That is a Damask rose. Does your Majesty wish me to gather some of you? I'm sure they would be quite pleasing inside your chambers," said Amon, tossing his head so his long, black, braided hair was flung behind his shoulder, out of his way as he worked.
"Yes, thank you, that would be most kind" Silvan nodded graciously at him.
"I do not believe that I've ever met such a polite Speaker of the Stars before," stated the Woodshaper with a smile. Silvan smacked himself in the forehead.
"I keep forgetting. Everyone says, 'You must do this. Not that.' It's all too much to remember in such a short amount of time," sighed Silvan, rolling his eyes. Amon's grin widened.
"You are much like your grandfather. He was a good man, despite what many would say…"
Silvan's head came up. "What?"
"You were here when Lorac was Speaker? But you look about my age…"
"I was. Oh, yes, everyone says I look young," he said with a half-smile. "But, even Lorac's Dream is nothing compared to the terrible foe we now face," Amon said, his face darkening.
"Of what foe do you speak? We have the Shield that protects us and keeps out all of our enemies!" Silvan said bewildered. "Have I not been informed of some crisis?"
"Your Majesty, the Shield is our enemy," Amon replied, his voice grave. "Look around! Do you not see how the flowers droop and wilt? This is what will become of our people if we do not strike it down! If we do not, then the Shield will become our tomb."
Amon's eyes pleaded with him. All of Silvanesti looked at him. Their hands grasped for him, ripping at his clothes, clawing at his flesh. They were drowning; the dark waters closing in above their heads, their eyes wild with fear, and then they faded.
Hope glimmered, a white petal blown away by the wind. Reaching out Silvanoshei caught it. Then, Time stopped and everything turned to ash.
The tears of Lorac,
Held in thrall by the orb and by Cyan Bloodbane,
Minion of Queen Takhisis,
Minion of evil,
Who alone had the powerUnfortunately, no assassins yet. But don't worry; they're coming for you, Silvan! BOO! *Jumps out*
Silvan: You are so lame… *yawn*
Author: waaaa … no one appreciates my humor… *huddles in a corner*
Well, Silvan seems a bit less depressed today… medicine must have worked… Anyways, what do you all think of Amon? I think he's pretty cool (his name means "hidden one" in Egyptian). Ummm… also, this kinda struck me…
Silvan: Oh gods! Don't tell them that… _
Author: Umm, well, it seemed to me that in some places Kiryn or other male characters were trying to hit on Silvan and were kinda being a bit too protective (Kiryn especially) but…
Kiryn: *faints* … XI
Silvan: YOU'RE RUINING MY REPUTATION!!!!! DAMN YOU!!!! *Starts throwing stuff in the Author's direction*
Author: *amidst the hail of objects* … I didn't mean it that way… -_-
Wanting to wish a Happy Easter to everyone! *Silvan's busy stuffing chocolate eggs in his mouth*
Author: Hey, that's mine! *Tug, tug* Gimme, gimme!!!
One last note: Thank you for reading my work and a special thank you to those of you who have reviewed already! I really appreciate the feedback and make sure to read it and take your suggestions into account! I'm trying to write about a half a page or so every night, so this fic should come out relatively fast. Lots of love from Silvan and me! ^_^