Post by Lone Dancer on Sept 30, 2022 0:49:20 GMT
The clatter and clanking of her guard’s soldiers helped clear Blackout’s mind as she prepared for one of the most critical meetings of her life. She hardly wanted to think about the three individuals she had just summoned to her court. This was her castle, and she was the Queen, but she still felt nervous.
Still, she kept it under a stoic mask. Her subjects must not see her vulnerable. She couldn’t let the doubt of her spread. Weakness was not an option.
Finally, she and her entourage arrived at the door. It was a simple door leading to one of the castle’s many rooms. The door was fine. What was behind that door concerned her more.
Before hesitation could overtake her, she grasped the door handle with her claws and yanked it open. The aroma of incense wafted out, curling around their noses before drifting off. She ignored the urge to cough, and entered the room.
Three dragons were seated around a stone-hewn table in the room. A Seawing, Icewing, and a Sandwing, who was, in particular, the source of the smoke and incense. Looking around, there was sparse decoration beyond a window covered by velvet drapes.
Blackout believed herself to carry a regal manner, but it felt inadequate compared to her guests’ sheer presence. It was almost a physical weight bearing down on her.
Currently, the three were in amiable chatter with one another, speaking in some language Blackout couldn’t identify. Clearing her throat, Blackout watched as their conversation died down, and they all turned to face her.
Despite two being blind and the third having only one eye, their collective gaze was heavy.
The Seawing had dark blue, almost purple, for scales. In place of eyes, two blank luminescent pearls took their place. Eye patterns decorated her wings, and orbiting her were three large pearls, each engraved with a silver eye. While they hovered around their keeper, the pearls stared at Blackout. This was Oracle.
Mourne, the Icewing, had a rose blindfold covering her eyes. It didn’t stop the glow of two pale white circles piercing the fabric. Beneath the cloth covering, jagged black lines trailed downwards. One of her horns was broken off, re-purposed into the crescent moon pendant they wore. Streaks of silver and purple were painted across her otherwise icy scales.
The Sandwing, Shaman, took to Blackout’s gaze with a lopsided grin. Draped in golden silks, and other shiny jewelry, he wore a simplistic eyepatch over his left eye. It did little, however, to hide the massive burn scars on that side of his face. Every now and then, smoke would lazily exit his mouth, curling up into the air. Blackout did her best to ignore the moving shapes and figures hidden within that scented smoke.
Clearing her throat once more, she scooted up to the table, tapping her claws in thought. Blackout rehearsed this conversation so many times, but being here has killed all original plans.
“Well, I summoned you here, to my castle, for a reason. One, I suspect, you already know.”
Taking a deep breath, she continued on. This was the part that made her really nervous.
“I’ve been having these dreams, these dreams of war and horrifying amounts of bloodshed. And I want to know how to stop this war from coming to pass. I want to protect my people.”
Shaman sucked in a breath, a look of sympathy in his sole eye. Before moving to speak, he looked at the other two. They both merely nodded.
“A noble reason, Miss, and one we can respect you for. We know of this war that you dream of. It’s not lightly we state it cannot be prevented. Not with the parties involved.” His voice had a deep timbre, but it was raspy.
His answer made her heart ache. Already despair and sorrow began to creep up her spine.
“But,” Mourne’s more melodic voice cut in,” you are not without hope. We are not infallible, but we can assist with delicate matters requiring a surgeon’s precision.”
Finally, Oracle spoke;
“I’m aware this is a challenging ask, but you must remain brave. To stand steadfast in the troubles that come. Your kingdom must act as the vanguard; to protect the others. It is why we heeded your summon.”
Blackout nodded, having no words to speak with. With a grim somberness, the trio began to warn of the those that would come, in hunt of dragons and in hunt of her tribe. The more they spoke, the greater her horror, but the greater her resolve as well.
She came looking for an answer, and well, she got it. She expressed great thanks to the three, for everything. Now it was time for her to play her part. Standing up, she took a heavy breath and exited the room, back to her entourage.
“Is everything all right, my Queen?”
“Prepare the garrisons. Signal the war horns. If the Night Kingdom falls, so does everyone else.”
This perked up the ears of all the guards, and they looked at her with great concern.
“My Queen, what, or who is coming?”
Slowly, Blackout turned to face the questioning guard.
“Those that come from the Stars.”
Still, she kept it under a stoic mask. Her subjects must not see her vulnerable. She couldn’t let the doubt of her spread. Weakness was not an option.
Finally, she and her entourage arrived at the door. It was a simple door leading to one of the castle’s many rooms. The door was fine. What was behind that door concerned her more.
Before hesitation could overtake her, she grasped the door handle with her claws and yanked it open. The aroma of incense wafted out, curling around their noses before drifting off. She ignored the urge to cough, and entered the room.
Three dragons were seated around a stone-hewn table in the room. A Seawing, Icewing, and a Sandwing, who was, in particular, the source of the smoke and incense. Looking around, there was sparse decoration beyond a window covered by velvet drapes.
Blackout believed herself to carry a regal manner, but it felt inadequate compared to her guests’ sheer presence. It was almost a physical weight bearing down on her.
Currently, the three were in amiable chatter with one another, speaking in some language Blackout couldn’t identify. Clearing her throat, Blackout watched as their conversation died down, and they all turned to face her.
Despite two being blind and the third having only one eye, their collective gaze was heavy.
The Seawing had dark blue, almost purple, for scales. In place of eyes, two blank luminescent pearls took their place. Eye patterns decorated her wings, and orbiting her were three large pearls, each engraved with a silver eye. While they hovered around their keeper, the pearls stared at Blackout. This was Oracle.
Mourne, the Icewing, had a rose blindfold covering her eyes. It didn’t stop the glow of two pale white circles piercing the fabric. Beneath the cloth covering, jagged black lines trailed downwards. One of her horns was broken off, re-purposed into the crescent moon pendant they wore. Streaks of silver and purple were painted across her otherwise icy scales.
The Sandwing, Shaman, took to Blackout’s gaze with a lopsided grin. Draped in golden silks, and other shiny jewelry, he wore a simplistic eyepatch over his left eye. It did little, however, to hide the massive burn scars on that side of his face. Every now and then, smoke would lazily exit his mouth, curling up into the air. Blackout did her best to ignore the moving shapes and figures hidden within that scented smoke.
Clearing her throat once more, she scooted up to the table, tapping her claws in thought. Blackout rehearsed this conversation so many times, but being here has killed all original plans.
“Well, I summoned you here, to my castle, for a reason. One, I suspect, you already know.”
Taking a deep breath, she continued on. This was the part that made her really nervous.
“I’ve been having these dreams, these dreams of war and horrifying amounts of bloodshed. And I want to know how to stop this war from coming to pass. I want to protect my people.”
Shaman sucked in a breath, a look of sympathy in his sole eye. Before moving to speak, he looked at the other two. They both merely nodded.
“A noble reason, Miss, and one we can respect you for. We know of this war that you dream of. It’s not lightly we state it cannot be prevented. Not with the parties involved.” His voice had a deep timbre, but it was raspy.
His answer made her heart ache. Already despair and sorrow began to creep up her spine.
“But,” Mourne’s more melodic voice cut in,” you are not without hope. We are not infallible, but we can assist with delicate matters requiring a surgeon’s precision.”
Finally, Oracle spoke;
“I’m aware this is a challenging ask, but you must remain brave. To stand steadfast in the troubles that come. Your kingdom must act as the vanguard; to protect the others. It is why we heeded your summon.”
Blackout nodded, having no words to speak with. With a grim somberness, the trio began to warn of the those that would come, in hunt of dragons and in hunt of her tribe. The more they spoke, the greater her horror, but the greater her resolve as well.
She came looking for an answer, and well, she got it. She expressed great thanks to the three, for everything. Now it was time for her to play her part. Standing up, she took a heavy breath and exited the room, back to her entourage.
“Is everything all right, my Queen?”
“Prepare the garrisons. Signal the war horns. If the Night Kingdom falls, so does everyone else.”
This perked up the ears of all the guards, and they looked at her with great concern.
“My Queen, what, or who is coming?”
Slowly, Blackout turned to face the questioning guard.
“Those that come from the Stars.”