The Third Nature

by Speaker for the Dead aka 17

Book One of The Triad. Voyager comes across a strange world of magic and mystique, where they are being hailed as the saviors of a bitter war against the ruling monarchy, which has raged for centuries. [COMPLETE NOW-- A YEAR OR SO AFTER. I'm forgetful.]

1. prologue

Disclaimer:

Star Trek, Star Trek Voyager and all associated characters are trademarked property of Paramount Pictures. No infringement of copyright was intended. The author is not using the above for any profit or commercial gain whatsoever. (i.e. I am NOT Ferengi. Profit is irrelevant!)

Everyone and everything else, however is the intellectual (intellect? What intellect?) property of Lt Taya 17 Janeway, so please do tell me if you're going to use it.

Any resemblance to real-life events or persons, dead or alive, is purely coincidental.

Ice   |    Water    |    Storm    |   Wind    |   Air   |   Smoke   |    Fire

Close, destructive Distant, constructive

Ranks:

Scarlet

Ocher

Saffron

Emerald

Cerulean

Turquoise

Purple

The Third Nature -Book One of the Triad

Voyager fantasies by Lt Taya 17 Janeway

prologue

The Healer was in her inner sanctuary, tending to the small lamp that she kept by her bedside. It was an ornate, intricately carved bronzed object which flickered with a small bright yellow flame, scenting the room with the dusky smell of bloomflowers and myrrh. Once, when she had still been young, this lamp had been a great mystery to her, but as she had grown under the tutelage of her elders she had learnt to master it; to control the power that small flame held. Now whenever she was troubled, she turned to it, relying on its predictability to calm and order her own thoughts.

Their daer was situated at the northern edge of the province of Naiad, a clandestine affair of dozens of huts secreted at the edge of the Kundzan woodlands. Not more than fifty wings away was the river Hy, the lifeblood of the daer, and the forest ended a hundred and fifty wings to the north where the Great Plains begun. Her hut was situated on one of the upper levels, perched precariously on the lower branches of a scarletwood tree, twenty meters in the air. When she stood on the balcony she could gaze down on the circular clearing ringed by numerous huts, and the communal buildings- the dining hall, the medicine shack, and of course, the war rooms. Looking up, however, gave one a much better view of the world. The tall straight trunks of the ancient scarletwoods rose hundreds of meters into the air, as if tracing a circle in the dark sapphire sky. And in the sky were the stars, the bright twinkling objects that had captured the imaginations of mortals and Mage alike since time immemorial. Even in this day and age where the Preeminence spanned across worlds and stars were known for the burning balls of hot gases that they were, they still commanded a great deal of awe and respect.

The Healer put down her lamp and gazed at the silvery light pooling on the wooden floor, warmed by the thermopacks under it. She knew the stars, alright. There was a time along ago when she had traveled amongst them, trying to seek out the meaning of life. That was before her Catharsis and her Healing, when she'd finally found the true calling of her life amongst these people. With a sigh she blew out the lamp and rose, crossing the space between her bed and the balcony. Her room was sparsely furnished in a bare, ascetic style. A simple single bed, lamp, a small study desk by the balcony. A couple of bookshelves were pushed against the wall opposite her bed, and beside it was her wardrobe and tool store. There was an adjoining room where she kept her magic tools, and a small refresher room, all done in the same minimalist décor. Her junip-hewn robe chafed against her skin as she leaned against the railing and contemplated the stars, remembering those years. And thinking of the Auguries.

Of late she had been studying the ancient texts with Myriam, wading through scrolls and scrolls of black inscriptions and the accompanying interpretatory notes. Most of it, according to Myriam, was pure nonsense, more hyperbole and dramatic storytelling than anything else, but looking beyond what she called the 'flotsam sequences' revealed a clairvoyance which was startlingly accurate and precise. The Seers of the past had predicted the Thousand Year War with stunning detail, and Mage scholars spent much of their time in the library trying to read the texts deeper, to forecast how the battle would end. Many conflicting theories had been proposed, and each proponent of a theory had a compelling reason why her version of the future was more correct than others.

But the Healer and Myriam, together with the other Mage in the daer, had, using simple techniques from antediluvian sources, pieced together a different version from what any other had proposed. The war would end soon, according to the texts, and the coming of an Emissary would end it. She would deal the final blow in toppling the Preeminence and would be key to building a new order from the ashes of the old one. She would be a powerful sorceress, a strong-willed leader with a loyal following of Mage who would end the sovereignty of this bloodline of Empresses, once and for all. It had taken them a full twenty years to come this far, and they still had so much more to cover.

Most of the non-Mage women in the daer were skeptical about the coming of this Emissary, much less the men. But Myriam had faith in her texts, and so did she. She believed that people who were as described in the text, altruistic and dedicated people untouched by the Preeminence, did exist. No, not just believed. She knew. Just reading the texts reminded her of someone she was once acquainted with, someone whom she was still greatly indebted to. Her image kept surfacing in the Healer's mind's eye, time and again over the past few days, reminding her of what the universe could still hold. And although that had been a different time, and a different life, she knew someone that there would be others in this universe that could fulfill the requirement.

She gazed out at the stars, and in that split second she saw something briefly flash against the dark nightdrop of twilight, had her heart skipped a beat at the memory it induced in her. It was like a flash of light appearing over them, like someone mysteriously summoned into their realm. And that light- it seemed so beautifully familiar, somehow. She recognized it.

The Healer shook her head, deciding that too much of staying at a table and comparing tablet engrams was doing something none too beneficiary to her brain. She turned away from the balcony and went in to prepare her bed, prepare for another day in that grueling world where the life of every person, every small victory, had to be fought for, hand and nail. And she went to bed praying, hope against hope, that their Emissary would come soon.