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*takes deep breath*
Hi! Here I am, about to do something momentous! Dun DUn DUN! This is going to be an ORIGINAL fantasy story. That's right! It's not fanfiction! Gasp! Anyway, here's a summary. Bear with me, and stick with it, okay? It'll get better, I promise!
This takes place in my own world, in my own time.
~Throughout history, dragons and humans were allies, a select few bonding with each other and becoming Riders. They were keepers of peace and took the place of lords/ladies, second only to the Emperor or Empress of the time. Nearly twenty years before the setting of the story, Princess Alekta, fourteen-year-old daughter of the Emperor, was chosen as a candidate to go through the dragon trials. Many people go in, but only one comes out a Rider. Alekta nearly made it- for one moment, she
was almost bonded with the infant dragon. However, the dragonling rejected her, and someone else was chosen.
This was a mind-shattering experience. The princess nearly lost her mind over grief, and her once kind soul turned bitter. Two years later, with the death of her father, she took the throne and became Empress. It was then that she began her bloody campaign against the dragons and the Riders. Within a few years, there were none left, and the dragons, disgusted and betrayed, disappeared into hiding. In place of the Riders, the Empress set up kings and queens to rule under her, thus creating a government that all who live by it detest.
Now, a score of years later, the people who would have once become Riders have gone underground, in both senses of the word. These fey, humans with magical capabilites, have hidden themselves away to escape the Empress' wrath, also being on her blacklist.
Apart from the majority of humans are the Ledethekians, named after the forest which they call home. They are a dark-skinned, pointy-eared, spiritual people, and highly discriminated against. People rarely pass through their lands, and likewise, as many of the Ledethekians leave.
Among them is Gwe'netha-udori, a girl of seventeen with an unusual ability. She can understand all living things- whether they be plant, animal, or one of the human tongues. When a wayward group of traders find their way into Ledetheke ((great wood)), one of them finds out about her skill. Ignorent of what this means, he considers this of little importance. Yet word is noncholantly carried back to the royal city, and the first to hear are the fey. Soon, Gweneth becomes part of the plot to overthrow the Empress and reinstate the Riders.
I worked hard on this- I've made my own language- Ledethekian -and have put a lot of thought into the story. So please, try and read it.
Prolouge: Promise
The fire crackled loudly, tendrils of flame flickering to form golden letters in mid-air, remnants of a language old as time and just as enigmatic. Gwe’netha-udori kneeled beside the fire pit, intent on crushing the withered green leaves on the slab of stone in front of her. Long, dark-skinned fingers worked with an efficiency that came from years of practice. Hair the color of polished copper fell in a loose braid on her shoulder as she bent over her work, dark violet eyes reflecting the dancing gold of the blaze.
"Good, Gwe’netha-udori," a voice spoke from the other side of the fire pit. "That will serve well. Gather the powder and pour it in the basin."
The young Ledethekian looked up and nodded at the old woman who sat opposite her. Deep lines on her face showed the passage of years, but her calm green eyes were the true testament of her worth, showing the wisdom that lay within. Like all their kin, her skin was a rich brown.
"Please, Zai-Wultu, call me Gweneth," she said quietly as she swept the pale green powder off of the stone and into her palm. Reaching over, she tipped the contents of her hand gently into the ecru liquid that occupied a simple wooden bowl. A warm breeze rollicked its way through the black cloth that hung across the doorway leading into the vast, hollowed-out tree that Zai-Wultu called home. Above their heads, the bunches of dried plants that hung from the ceiling swayed gently, stirring the air with their muted fragrances.
"Why do you no longer rejoice in the blessed name that was given to you? You should wear it with honor, young one," Zai-Wultu answered, taking the bowl and stirring the potion.
Gweneth bowed her head in both respect for the tribe’s wise-woman and the embarrassment coloring her dark cheeks.
"I am honored, Zai-Wultu," she murmured. "But I like Gweneth. It ... sounds more like a name instead of a title."
The wise-woman gave her a loving, compassionate look. "Gweneth, then. I know well how you feel. When I was young, I was known as Tirlona. But when the earth-spirits called to me and gave me this knowledge, I could no longer remain who I once was. But do not think of it only as a title, Listener. Think of it as a promise."
"But what does my title promise, Zai-Wultu?"
She smiled warmly and lifted the wooden bowl above the fire. "That is why you are here today, Gweneth. Let us ask the spirits to spare a glimpse of the future they weave for you on their loom." with that, she poured the pale potion into the fire. The flames hissed their discontentment, yet rose unnaturally higher. Zai-Wultu closed her far-seeing eyes and began to chant in Ledethekian. The fire burned brighter and began to glow with an eerie black light. No longer did the flames shape long-lost letters. Instead, they twisted to form vague figures that shifted exotically before Gweneth’s violet eyes. She could not understand what the visions meant, but she knew that Zai-Wultu did. Finally, the older Ledethekian spoke:
"It is not for the people of the Ledetheke to know all of what the future holds. The messages are indistinct, for the spirits guard their hard-worked secrets jealously. But they told me this much; a great path lies ahead of you, a road from which to walk upon means great peril, and to shy away from it means even greater calamity. Many, many people await you on this journey, all asking them to give you hope."
"But why?" Gweneth asked, hands unconsciously clenching on the slab of rough stone by her knees. "What am I that binds me to that future?"
"Gwe’netha-udori is the promise. That name sets you apart. It is a single, unbreakable thread that winds through your heart and others. Wear the title with goodness in your soul."
Hi! Here I am, about to do something momentous! Dun DUn DUN! This is going to be an ORIGINAL fantasy story. That's right! It's not fanfiction! Gasp! Anyway, here's a summary. Bear with me, and stick with it, okay? It'll get better, I promise!
This takes place in my own world, in my own time.
~Throughout history, dragons and humans were allies, a select few bonding with each other and becoming Riders. They were keepers of peace and took the place of lords/ladies, second only to the Emperor or Empress of the time. Nearly twenty years before the setting of the story, Princess Alekta, fourteen-year-old daughter of the Emperor, was chosen as a candidate to go through the dragon trials. Many people go in, but only one comes out a Rider. Alekta nearly made it- for one moment, she
was almost bonded with the infant dragon. However, the dragonling rejected her, and someone else was chosen.
This was a mind-shattering experience. The princess nearly lost her mind over grief, and her once kind soul turned bitter. Two years later, with the death of her father, she took the throne and became Empress. It was then that she began her bloody campaign against the dragons and the Riders. Within a few years, there were none left, and the dragons, disgusted and betrayed, disappeared into hiding. In place of the Riders, the Empress set up kings and queens to rule under her, thus creating a government that all who live by it detest.
Now, a score of years later, the people who would have once become Riders have gone underground, in both senses of the word. These fey, humans with magical capabilites, have hidden themselves away to escape the Empress' wrath, also being on her blacklist.
Apart from the majority of humans are the Ledethekians, named after the forest which they call home. They are a dark-skinned, pointy-eared, spiritual people, and highly discriminated against. People rarely pass through their lands, and likewise, as many of the Ledethekians leave.
Among them is Gwe'netha-udori, a girl of seventeen with an unusual ability. She can understand all living things- whether they be plant, animal, or one of the human tongues. When a wayward group of traders find their way into Ledetheke ((great wood)), one of them finds out about her skill. Ignorent of what this means, he considers this of little importance. Yet word is noncholantly carried back to the royal city, and the first to hear are the fey. Soon, Gweneth becomes part of the plot to overthrow the Empress and reinstate the Riders.
I worked hard on this- I've made my own language- Ledethekian -and have put a lot of thought into the story. So please, try and read it.
Prolouge: Promise
The fire crackled loudly, tendrils of flame flickering to form golden letters in mid-air, remnants of a language old as time and just as enigmatic. Gwe’netha-udori kneeled beside the fire pit, intent on crushing the withered green leaves on the slab of stone in front of her. Long, dark-skinned fingers worked with an efficiency that came from years of practice. Hair the color of polished copper fell in a loose braid on her shoulder as she bent over her work, dark violet eyes reflecting the dancing gold of the blaze.
"Good, Gwe’netha-udori," a voice spoke from the other side of the fire pit. "That will serve well. Gather the powder and pour it in the basin."
The young Ledethekian looked up and nodded at the old woman who sat opposite her. Deep lines on her face showed the passage of years, but her calm green eyes were the true testament of her worth, showing the wisdom that lay within. Like all their kin, her skin was a rich brown.
"Please, Zai-Wultu, call me Gweneth," she said quietly as she swept the pale green powder off of the stone and into her palm. Reaching over, she tipped the contents of her hand gently into the ecru liquid that occupied a simple wooden bowl. A warm breeze rollicked its way through the black cloth that hung across the doorway leading into the vast, hollowed-out tree that Zai-Wultu called home. Above their heads, the bunches of dried plants that hung from the ceiling swayed gently, stirring the air with their muted fragrances.
"Why do you no longer rejoice in the blessed name that was given to you? You should wear it with honor, young one," Zai-Wultu answered, taking the bowl and stirring the potion.
Gweneth bowed her head in both respect for the tribe’s wise-woman and the embarrassment coloring her dark cheeks.
"I am honored, Zai-Wultu," she murmured. "But I like Gweneth. It ... sounds more like a name instead of a title."
The wise-woman gave her a loving, compassionate look. "Gweneth, then. I know well how you feel. When I was young, I was known as Tirlona. But when the earth-spirits called to me and gave me this knowledge, I could no longer remain who I once was. But do not think of it only as a title, Listener. Think of it as a promise."
"But what does my title promise, Zai-Wultu?"
She smiled warmly and lifted the wooden bowl above the fire. "That is why you are here today, Gweneth. Let us ask the spirits to spare a glimpse of the future they weave for you on their loom." with that, she poured the pale potion into the fire. The flames hissed their discontentment, yet rose unnaturally higher. Zai-Wultu closed her far-seeing eyes and began to chant in Ledethekian. The fire burned brighter and began to glow with an eerie black light. No longer did the flames shape long-lost letters. Instead, they twisted to form vague figures that shifted exotically before Gweneth’s violet eyes. She could not understand what the visions meant, but she knew that Zai-Wultu did. Finally, the older Ledethekian spoke:
"It is not for the people of the Ledetheke to know all of what the future holds. The messages are indistinct, for the spirits guard their hard-worked secrets jealously. But they told me this much; a great path lies ahead of you, a road from which to walk upon means great peril, and to shy away from it means even greater calamity. Many, many people await you on this journey, all asking them to give you hope."
"But why?" Gweneth asked, hands unconsciously clenching on the slab of rough stone by her knees. "What am I that binds me to that future?"
"Gwe’netha-udori is the promise. That name sets you apart. It is a single, unbreakable thread that winds through your heart and others. Wear the title with goodness in your soul."
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