Date: Mon, 25 Dec 2000 21:06:56 -0700 From: Mei Ly R. Subject: Legends and Heroes: Prologue Hey all.. I just have to put in a few things, that you might not pick up on.. in this Prologue. This story takes place in a land called Laren. The capital of Laren is called Kylara. There are four races in Laren, Human, Shayani (a warrior/wizard race), Wyr (people of the forest) and the Okira (people of the water). DISCLAIMER: I own *NSYNC. Yup. They're in my closet right now, and Lance is trying on my one dress. No, I'm kidding. This story was not written to imply the sexuality of any of the members of *NSYNC. Nor to imply that they actually live in a land called Laren... I have one word for all of you that believe this is real: F-I-C-T-I-O-N. that said, onto the story! Legends and Heroes- Prologue Orendra brushed a stray strand of blonde hair from her face, muttering under her breath. Her hands flew across the loom. The courtiers in the room held their breaths, watching their Seer weave the tapestry that would tell the life of their new prince. Silence reigned in the great hall. Suddenly, Orendra began to speak. "I have seen many, many things. There will be great sorrow in his life, from an early age. But he will grow from these things, he will learn from others' mistakes. I have seen the Raven- the symbol for strength, and release. Intertwined with his destiny is that of another's- a fair-haired man from a distant land. This man is not Human. He is Shayani. During the Prince's reign, there will be no drought, or famine. There will be hope, a new era of love and art and magic. His will be a golden time." Orendra's green eyes searched the hall, landing on the Queen, and the baby cradled in her arms. She took a deep breath, and said softly, "There will be a man, who lives only to destroy what this babe will work so hard to create. He will send his armies of mages, of demons, of creatures of the night, to obliterate all traces of the Kingdom of Kylara." Orendra watched the reaction of the Queen and King before proceeding. "But, in the end, good will prevail, and the Raven will fly once more." She beckoned regally- the Queen approached the throne, knelt before her, offering the child to her as if it were a sacrifice, and she a goddess. Orendra took the babe gently, cradling the fragile creature in her arms. |This, this is our heir, this will rule us all one day?| she thought to herself, looking into the boy's trusting blue eyes. |There are men, men who will help him through his struggles and his hard times.| She told the Queen silently. "I name the babe- the Prince of all Kylara- Joshua. Let him reign with a firm hand and a cool brow." She announced to the waiting hall. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ "Christopher!" A voice called imperiously. "Christopher!" Christopher inched his way further into the corner he was hidden. He forced himself to breathe quietly and prayed that she could not find him. The nurse put her hands on her hips, staring around the grounds of the manor. Where had the little brat got off to? She pursed her lips. "Christopher! Enough of this game! The family has been called to the Castle of Kylara, and you MUST go!" The five-year-old didn't move a muscle. He didn't care about the stupid King and Queen and their stupid son. He wanted to play with his friend in the river and the nurse wasn't going to stop him, not this time. "CHRISTOPHER!" The nurse shrieked. Furious, she turned on her heel and marched back into the manor. A woman stood in the entrance hall. She raised a dark brow. "Where has my son gone this time, do you suppose, Alethia?" "I do not know, Lady. I searched for him, and he was nowhere to be found. I asked about him, but none had seen him. I called for him, but there was no reply." The lady looked pensive. "Thank you, Alethia. I will find him myself. And if I do not-" The lady sighed. "Well, I will find him." Christopher sighed as he watched his mother step out onto the front step of the Manor. "Christopher Alan!" His mother said coolly. He peeled himself away from the grey stone wall and walked slowly towards her, head down. "Christopher." His mother said with relief when she saw him. "I am sorry, Mother. I was only playing with Nurse." "And what did I tell you, about playing with Nurse? Come now, Christopher, this is important to your father! The Prince might have been born already! Don't you want to meet him?" Christopher scuffed his leather shoe against the stones. "I suppose, Mother." "That will have to do." His mother laughed, then took his hand. "Oh, it will not be so bad. You'll get to play with many other boys your age! And you'll get to see all the pretty jewels in the Crown and the Gifts. And you'll get to meet the Seer, Orendra. I hear she's-" her voice lowered conspiratorially. "A Shayani." Christopher's head jerked up. "A Shayani? Oh, mother! When do we leave?" ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Duke Joseph Fatone of Antoine looked up as the study door was thrown open. "Your wife, Your Grace." Timothy said stiffly. The Duke waved the man away and nodded in greeting as his wife entered the room, cradling their son against her chest. "The Prince is born." His wife said softly. The Duke looked up in surprise. "So soon after young Joseph's birth? That must mean something. Orendra should be consulted on such matters." "She is gone, Joseph." Joseph frowned. "Gone? Where to?" "She has returned to the Land of the Shayani, Joseph. Her nephew is being born." "We did not return to the Land of the Wyr, when your brother was born. Did we?" "No, Joseph. But she is the sister of Oren." Joseph was silent. Then, he said, thoughtfully, "Oren is the King of the Shayani. He is a Mage, is he not? Fair-haired, and green-eyed, as all Shayani are. Yes, I remember him. He came once, nine months ago, it must have been, to congratulate the Queen, for being with child. Also, his wife came- what was her name?" "Tamara." "Yes, Tamara came with him. She, too, must have been with child. Do you remember, Linnea?" "Yes. She was quite nice. Small, though, and timid. And beautiful. Almost as beautiful as the Queen." Linnea smiled. "That caused quite a war between the squires, if I remember correctly." Joseph laughed. "Yes. So. A Prince is born in the land of the Shayani, is he? That must be at the lips of all the courtiers." "Perhaps he will be the fair-haired man Orendra spoke of. She prophesized that the Prince's destiny was intertwined with a fair-haired Shayani." Joseph smiled. "The Prince will be right to surround himself with at least one being of each Race. For the Wyr, will he not have young Joseph as his advisor? He will, and Joseph is a Wyr." He rubbed his chin. "For the Okira, it is not so certain. They keep to themselves, happy in their cities underwater." He shook his head. "I fear strife between Humans and the Okira." "But what of the beautiful Okira princesses? Might he marry one of them?" The Duke shook his head. "Unless Orendra spoke of a princess, he won't. Of what person did she speak of, for his Consort?" Linnea shook her head. "She spoke of none." Joseph frowned. "That is odd. But come, let us go, we must go congratulate the Queen and King." ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ A loud wail rent the still air of the Shayani village. A whisper spread through-out the castle, hurried whispers passed in hallways. The Prince was born. Orendra appeared in the birth room, took a wet rag, wiped at her sister's forehead. "Sleep, my sister." Orendra murmured. "It is a hard task, to birth a child." The beautiful face calmed, green eyes fluttered closed. Orendra breathed a sigh of relief and took the child from the nurse's arms. She would not weave his tapestry now, not in this room with the scent of blood and death still heavy in the air. "The Queen is dead." Orendra murmured softly. She turned to face her brother's grief-stricken eyes. "I am sorry." Oren took a deep breath. "As am I, sister." He looked around the room. "You will not weave in this room?" Orendra shook her head. "I am sorry." She repeated. Tamara would have wanted to see her son's tapestry woven, but the recent death would interrupt the flow of Magic. He nodded. "The Throne Room, then." He gestured. The surrounding room blended, shifted. The small group that had been transported stood in the middle of the other-wise empty Throne Room. A loom and a stool stood to the left of the group. Orendra sat on the stool, looking at the array of bright thread. She chose, for her first color, a brilliant, emerald green. As she wove, she began to speak. "The Shayani that has just been born is one of great power. He will be known as one of the greatest magicians in all the history of Laren. Born on the same day as the future ruler of all Laren, he and the Prince of Kylara herald an age of unity between all four races." Orendra looked at the child that Oren now held. "He will have a great love in his life, he will find knife-friends and a sword-mate." She frowned as an image appeared in her mind, but then spoke as the power flowed through her. "He will be the one to betray his love and rip apart all of Laren. Through him, a dark force will seek to destroy Kylara. Only by remembering his love will he be able to resist the dark magic." Orendra pursed her lips, and was silent for some time, continuing to weave the tapestry. Finally, she said, "Only with his death will he heal the land, and find his sword-mate once more." She gestured, as she had only hours before, and the King approached, laying her nephew before her. "I name this babe Lance. Let him know hope, and peace, and love." (c) Mei Ly R.