Join Date: Oct 2010
Location: Wichita Kansas, U.S.A.
Sara watched the dawn.
Sara watched the dawn.
Sara Garason looked over the balustrade. The view was spectacular. The sun was just coming up and the orange red glow of its fiery light lit the clouds above Balsomar City in hues of pink and rose red reflections.
The city reflected its light with the majesty only the kings creation could possibly do. The windows and copper roofs along with the jade towers and marble squares seemed to come alive when the sun rose from its hiding place behind the Hollow Mountains.
Already the city was alive with activity; people going about their work gathering food in the fields, selling clothing and food-goods in the marketplace. The choirs began their mournful songs as the copper bells began to toll.
This is the way that it always was. Every morning presented its glories and every day its triumphs. Sara inhaled the rich clean air and held it for a moment. The smell of wood stoves and breakfast was coming from the habs below; the smells were mixed with the fragrance of flowers and grain from the fields.
It was a dream to live in this wondrous city. Balsomar City was the jewel of the Emperium, she was told. Whether it was or was not she could not be sure, but the feeling she got when she awoke each morning made her believe it was so.
It had not always been this way for her. She was not a Princess nor did she come from a great house such as the Fingals or the Ariatoc families. Both of those families were known for their possession of merchant craft and luxury vessels.
No. she was of low blood, a servant from the day she had been born. What a life she had lived. She was old now, but when she was young she had lived quite a different life.
Her memories brought her back to when she was a child.
The memories were tortured and dark. They were brutal and cold. The Black Ship had come for her. She did not understand at the time, but as she grew older she gained knowledge and training. Her teachers were also her enslavers. They never beat her with their fists nor did they speak harshly to her.
No, the pain they inflicted was meant to instruct her, discipline her and graft her into someone dangerous and to be feared. She had been scared, but she learned. The psy-attacks came at her constantly until she learned how to defend herself against them.
They blistered her mind with psy-fire and froze her with psychic ice. They blasted her with concussive forces that threatened to break her will and tear apart her mind. But she learned and she grew strong and she learned how to repel such attacks. She also learned how to kill her aggressors and make them pay for the abuse they were inflicting upon her.
Sara Garason’s mind became a sharpened blade that had no equal. She had become a weapon of unimaginable strength.
‘Now that you have learned the fundamentals of battle and how your gift works,’ the teacher spoke with a kind voice. It was strange and soothing, frightening. ‘It is time for you to learn how to be a lady, refined, polished and noble. It is time for you to grow into the woman you are supposed to be.’
Years went by in a flash it seemed. Sara learned how to conduct herself at a banquet, she learned how to talk to wealthy nobles, she learned how to read thoughts and not react when someone was thinking about her.
Sara was quite pretty, her legs were long, her body full and pleasing to the sight of men. It was only natural that some men considered her for more than conversation. ‘If a man should approach you for something less than noble, maybe, want to be intimate with you, do not turn their minds to mush or alight their bodies into flame.’ the teacher had said to her one night when Sara’s thoughts were observed as a young man approached her from across the banquet hall.
‘What should I do?’ Sara had asked.
‘Be kind to the man. Treat him like he expects, but do not give yourself to him if he is forceful. Learn all you can about the ways of the heart, by doing so you will gain their trust and also their secrets.’ the teacher instructed.
The day came for her to complete her training. The room she was in was simple; a table sat in the corner with a candle upon it. There was a bed along the wall with simple covers meant to keep the cold out, yet unappealing to the eye.
A painting was fastened to the wall beside the door of a young man in armor sat upon a horse. Behind the man stood a tall mountain. The sun rose just above the peaks and set the sky on fire. Sara wanted to be there more than anything. She wanted to walk upon the ground; the real ground, not the padded floors of the Black Ship or the iron floors of the training bay.
No, she wanted to know what it felt like to feel the blades of grass under her bare feet. She wanted to smell the clean air and glory in the rain falling upon her lithe strong body.
She let the dream fade from her mind as she left the confines of her chambers and entered the hall of submission.
‘Today you become a servant and not a slave.’ The speaker’s voice was heavy and dark and strong. ‘Today you become something more than you could ever imagine.’
Sara felt a mixture of feelings as the shuttle left the bay of the Black Ship. She felt sadness, fear and most of all happiness. Through the portal she was able to see its crude outline against the blackness of space, its terrible visage pouring fear into the galaxy. It was a great place to be from and not to be in.
Inquisitor Tiberious Coal stood beside her. He did not speak, but she could read his thoughts somewhat. She sensed that he was allowing her in, letting her know he was not a danger to her, that he would be kind to her.
Sara smiled as she read his warmth. ‘What would you have me do?’ she asked.
Inquisitor Tiberious Coal smiled, ‘I want you to live.’
The statement was true. He did want her to live, though many battles were fought and death surrounded them.
Sara watched the dawn and smiled.
1,100 words, not including the title.
A good reputation take a long time to build, but only a moment to destroy. Wow, that's deep!
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Last edited by Adrian; 03-11-12 at 06:24 PM.