The Third Nature -Book One of the Triad
Voyager fantasies by Taya 17 Janeway @ Nimgil
when the skies turn black, the ants take cover
It was unusually silent in Licknok Moor.
Nayrn Maldor studied the light reflecting off the surface of her nails. In the silence she could hear the soft sound of her own heart beating in her chest, of the slow drip-drip-drip of water upon rock in some distant part of the palace, of the steady ticking of the elaborate timepiece set in the arch above the imperial throne. In the silence she could feel the stirrings of the Spheres with acute sensitivity; every motion apparent, every little prick felt. In the silence she could hear the thoughts of others.
She liked the silence immensely.
She also liked staring at her nails. They were smooth and polished, long and sharp, strong and hard. She spent an inordinate amount of time on them, polishing and sharpening them. They were weapons, tools she controlled to her every whim, which she perfected to her own whims. Like the Preeminence. Like her empire.
Although her expression remained implacable, she was smiling inside. No, not merely smiling. Laughing. Her mirth was understandable, and a whole host of empresses past laughed with her. Did that rag-tag group of rebels really think that taking down a bastion of the Preeminence would be so easy? Invading minor cities on the outskirts of this planet was one thing, but taking control of a major embattlement? They were counting on the element of surprise to take control of Tiuagad. A pitiful sentiment. She was the Empress, she was the beginning and the end of all; she didn't just lead the Eminence, she was the Eminence, its flesh and bones and eyes and ears. Nothing escaped her! Her eyes were everywhere! She would pour her forces into Tiuagad, and smash the rebellion into oblivion! She would push them back, retake the cites that they had taken, restore order to her universe, send those weakling excuses for Emissaries back to the miserable holes they crawled from, wipe them all out from Haldon and Nurea and Nanamon and—
Her self-composure shattered as the compressed ball of anger within her expanded and erupted into a full-blown windstorm. She sprang out of her throne and slashed at the tapestries hanging close by the elaborate overhead arch. Her howl of rage echoed along the empty corridors of the palace, reflecting and reflecting upon itself until the structure of the building trembled. A wild gale ripped through the palace room, tearing chunks of marble out of pillars, shattering glass and crystal, whipping her anger into frenzy.
How dare they? How dare they? They were low, despicable! She was the empress; it was her birthright, her destiny! Dare they presume the throne? Dare they assume that these intruders from an alien world could help them win this lost cause of a war? Self-righteous anger raged through her. This was her domain! She flexed her right hand firmly, and the sleek gold circlet around her wrist obligingly curved and shaped itself around her wrist. The so-called Emissaries stood no chance against her. Whoever had interpreted the Auguries in their way was a sad misguided fool. The Emissaries did not exist. She would crush these intruders!
That thought gave her pause. The whirlwind died down; the shredded tapestries stopped flapping miserably in the wind. In her chest, she felt that small lump of uncertainty swell and fill her insides with a strange burning sensation. Time and again she had tried to do just that: destroy the vaunted Emissaries of these upstart rebels, to deal a severe blow to their morale. But... somehow, by skill or sheer luck, these Emissaries had eluded her. How could a mere hundred and fifty people be so hard to eliminate?
Might there be some truth in the Auguries?
Nayrn pushed that thought aside. If the readings of the Auguries were true, the consequences would be unthinkable. She refused to think of her defeat by these... Ashkari; thousands of years of Maldorian rule toppled in mere months. That was a laughably remote possibility.
But it was still a possibility. It shouldn't have been.
She frowned deeply and thought of her late adoptive mother. The previous empress had been no maternal figure: she was harshly cruel, strict and totalitarian. Nayrn had spent her young life in terror of her mother, and she had no great love for the woman; as a matter of fact, she had been relieved when the hag finally succumbed to the degenerative disease that had plagued her for so long. But she respected her for her wisdom and her decisiveness when dealing with others. She learnt much from her mother's two thousand years of experience as the Eminent. And on the day her mother had died, the Ring had passed to her. The Ring of Eminence, the indestructible artifact of the Eminent herself, had accepted her as the next Empress. No, not accepted. Chosen. Chosen her above her inferior siblings. She returned her attention to the elaborate circlet on her wrist. One slender tendril of its complex interlacing tapestry snaked up the back of her hand and culminated in the slender ring around her index finger; a gold band inlaid with a glittering band of prismatic colors: gems representing the seven Spheres of Power. It seemed that the circlet grew more complex with each year that passed. She flexed her hand again, and felt the circlet respond to the movement. It felt good. It was a sign, a portent of the fates. This was concrete proof that she was meant to be Empress, more so than the shots in the dark that were the Ashkari interpretations of the Auguries. She had been chosen.
The burning feeling was gone now, replaced by a cold, hard ball of resolve. She stalked back to her throne and reclined upon it. With a brief movement she cleared the hall of the debris littering it, vanishing it to the palace dumpyards. Silence reigned again.
After a brief pause she called for Kraala, her first lieutenant. She was a tall, well built woman with tawny skin and thick, wavy hair. Kraala, efficient as always and forever in readiness to receive orders, sprinted into the throne room mere moments after she had been summoned. She fell on bended knee before Nayrn, placing her short sword in front of her. "Command me, your Eminence!"
Nayrn smiled fiercely, showing sharp pointed teeth. "I want you to shunt our forces to create additional troops for Tiuagad."