Wow. These past few days have been hectic to say the least... Lectures, Spotlight Theatre, work and above all else *drumroll* getting published! For those of you who haven't heard already, I've had a collection of my work published, which you can purchase here.
Anyhoo, apologies for not writing as much as I'd have liked to on this project, but yeah, life has been a bit manic recently... But without further ado, I'm returning to my current project, The Legend of Tyree. Enjoy!
Varashnir reclined, his hand moving to rest beneath his chin as he sat upon his onyx throne. He scowled, deep in thought as before him, within his court, a troupe of dancers and jesters tried in futility to entertain the lord of the Reldanian Empire. He closed his eyes and issued a deep, drawn out sigh as he waved the hand from beneath his chin, dismissing the performers from his presence. He stood, his emerald coloured velvet robe cascading down behind him and trailing along the marble floor at his feet. He glanced over to his attendants on the periphery of his throne room and ran a hand over his shaved scalp. His eyes, the deepest of greens, matching his robe, shifted between his two aides. They nodded and bowed at the waist in acknowledgement of their lord before opening the ornate double doors into his personal bathing chamber.
Within this chamber was a large pool of clearest water, scented with oils and scattered with herbs, spices and aromatic petals. The water was heated by ancient dwarven runes inlaid within the tiles of the pool's floor. Varashnir's attendants led the way, stepping slowly into the pool. Their own ceremonial gowns drifted lazily within the water and clung to their young, nubile forms. They too had shaven heads, as was Varashnir's will for all of his servants. He strode into the pool after them, his own robe settling atop the water until it too became sodden and sank, limply hanging in the void that was the water. The two girls - for they were nowhere near advanced enough in years to be called women - proceeded to remove the garment from around his shoulders and began to tend to his body, cleansing it of the day's wear and grime. He sighed once more, glancing down at the mark which resided upon the back of his left hand, that of a dragon coiled around a spear. He frowned. His prophets had been fortelling for some time now of a new age, a new hero rising from the people to seek his downfall. He had been told that he would know the time of this new hero's coming by the dragon's moving around the spear. Once fully coiled, so his prophets claimed, that would be the time when he would be confronted. So far the dragon's neck had only just begun to move around the base of the spear's shaft, but it had moved so much in such a short time to reach just this point that it had caused Varashnir to ponder this matter more closely. His prophets had never led him astray so far. It was due to their wise counsel that he had attained his position at the head of the Empire and had gained so much in the way of wealth and land. He sighed once more and looked to his attendants.
"Leave me..." The girls paused and looked to their lord, confused, but not willing to disobey their master. They gave a slow nod and waded toward the edge of the pool and left promptly, leaving Varashnir to his thoughts. Energy began to form around his shoulders, shifting upwards towards his head in a cloud of inky blackness, like a halo of negative candescence arcing around him. Veins grew tighter and were visable beneath his olive skin, his teeth clenched and his eyes screwed up as though he were wracked with pain. With a gutteral roar, the darkness exploded from his person, extinguishing the lanterns within the chamber, leaving Varashnir to ponder within the pool, both in solitude, and in darkness...
So there we have it, the next portion of Tyree. Hopefully there won't be too much of a delay on the next update, but right now there's a bath back home with my name on it and I can't wait to soak the rest of the day away. Please leave any feedback you want about this, or any of my pieces. It's always appreciated!
Thanks,
Craiggy.
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