The Future of Terra

CHAPTER 1: A BOY

The Isle of Snow was in a near panic from the excitement. Citizens scurrying to get done what needed doing quicker than they would do on a normal day. The Queen was coming for her yearly Summoning.

The west wind blew gently across the cold frontier of the island enveloping the small brick furnishings that were set up into three small towns, none of which, were really considered a city.

There was Drift, a place in the thick forests to the north. Lakeview was to the east and only about thirty miles from Snow, where the Isle's Castle hold was located. Castle Snow stood on the Western shore toward the Sea of Winds. It was the biggest of the three towns and it's inhabitants were in a state of feasting and celebrating at the arrival of the Queen.

The wind swept past the docks and up the harbor towards the Castle Proper. The children of the Proper could be seen running and playing with one another. Their laughter cutting through the sounds of the smithy as he banged away at the anvil, the Guardsmen ordering those few beggars back to the Shroud, and the rumblings of the chit chat that the Isle of Snow had very little of this winter. The fishermen were ringing the bells on their boats and bringing in their hauls for the day. Everyone was on edge with the Queen coming to the Castle. The Summoning was one of the most important things that happened each year aside from High Lord Argeir's naming day celebration.

Young Marek Frost was in the Kitchens in the Castle cleaning the pots and pans. He was good at cleaning things and took great pride in his work. He often glanced up at Mistress Aluha, the Mistress of the Kitchens, and found her smiling and nodding at his handiwork.

Her long brown hair was pulled back into a long thick braid as was the custom of reaching womanhood on the Isle of Snow. His chest puffed with pride at the acknowledgement. Not that she would tell him anything of the sort, but just the look made him feel like High Lord Argeir himself. He knew that Mistress Aluha wanted him to be out with the other children playing with practice swords or rolling the thick hoops through the Gardens, or even trying to find a nice serving wench to kiss or dance with or maybe more. He avoided the other children, though. And they usually avoided him if they could help it.

Tomorrow would be his eighteenth naming-day. The day he was to be considered being a man. Marek never understood that. He did not think a boy became a man simply because of a naming-day. It was also the year he was eligible for marriage. Marek did not really have an opinion on that matter. Sure, he thought a few of the girls around the Castle were very pretty, but most were older than he and it seemed to him that most acted like he didn't exist.

It was also the year that the Queen and her entourage came to Snow searching for new Guardsmen, Sorceresses, and staff. It was really the only way anyone would leave the Isle, save for that of the fisherman and they really never ventured too far out to sea. Not that Marek really wanted to leave the Isle, but if called upon, he would do his duty for the Queen. Very few were picked each year from the Isle and those who left, never returned.

Marek had a plan to try to avoid the presence of the Queen. Well, as much as possible after the ceremonies were over. He certainly had no reason to leave the Castle. He didn't find the promise of adventure or life on the Mainland at all enticing. He found himself wanting to be Mistress Aluha's apprentice. Maybe one day take over for the Mistress when her bones grew too stiff on this cold Island.

He finished with the last pan and put it away with an air of satisfaction. They looked pristine. He smiled as he turned to Mistress Aluha.

"Very nice, Marek." She said in that tone that earmarked her happiness. "Would you like a few coins to go to Master Yerna's sweetshop?"

Marek hesitated then took the offered coins. She smiled, knowing that the coins were, in fact, not going to any treats. They would be spent on books at Master Bryn's bookshop. That was a fact with Marek. Books, books and more books. She had no idea where he kept all of those books he was constantly reading. The boy bowed his thanks.

"Oh, and Marek, be careful." she said seriously as he turned back to her. The boy sighed and bowed leaving the door open slightly as he left.

She stared after the boy for several moments. If the boy wanted books, then he could very well, buy books. He earned every bit of coin she gave him. She was the only one on the entire Island that knew of his secret. For him, that secret would most assuredly mean a swift execution. It was the main reason that the boy preferred to stay away from people. A secret like his was enough to get him tossed from the Castle, undoubtedly, that's if he weren't executed there, in the Kitchens, first. Instead of being sent to the Capital on the mainland and held for trial.

She frowned as she kneaded the dough for the honeycakes she was to make for the Queen. She ignored the dull ache in her fingers that seemed to have gotten worse the last couple of years. "Light, help that boy." she whispered going back to concentrating on her dough. Pain or not, the Queen was coming and there was work to do.

Mistress Aluha had been correct. Marek sat on the pallet in his room in the Castle Orphanage reading The Marks of the Forge. A book about how to learn to be a smithy. Master Fellis, the Castle's blacksmith, had told him that if he was interested in smithing to read that book first. He could tell by Master Fellis' smirk that he thought Marek's small frame would not be suitable for becoming a smithy.

He finished the book in two hours remembering every word. It was like that with anything he ever read. Be it from a book, or a writ, or a scroll, or even the recipes and inventory sheets Mistress Aluha used to keep track of the Kitchens.

It was a Talent. He was sure of it. After all, he had many Talents. He knew that was what Mistress Aluha had been referring to when she had told him to be careful. He was the only boy he knew, that was in constant danger of death. He could still remember the first time he had even showed a Talent. Luckily for him, it was in front of Mistress Aluha and no one else. She knew what it meant for him even if he did not. He could still remember the look of shock and terror on her face.

Marek and Mistress Aluha had been in the Kitchen for half of the day and all throughout the previous night. He was growing more and more tired as the hours went by, but he never complained. One learned quickly not to complain in front of Mistress Aluha. He and the Mistress of the Kitchens had been working on High Lord Argeir's 70th naming-day cake. It was a spectacular piece. Seven layers of the finest moist cake the Mistress had ever made. It was also covered in great designs of flowers and ribbons done in the sweetest buttercream icing that Marek had personally took hours to complete. He had been shocked that the Mistress of the Kitchens had tasked him with the decorating of the cake. A masterpiece for sure.

The manifestation of the Talent had happened suddenly. It was winding down to where they both needed sleep or the entire Celebration would be slept through. No one missed the Celebration. It was the only big-to-do about the Isle all year. All three villages came together to merry-make and enjoy the festivities.

Mistress Aluha had been stumbling about in a sleepy stupor when she rushed through the Kitchen doors and bumped into the stand holding their masterpiece. She gasped loudly and Marek looked up in time to see the cake tip and start it's descent to the floor, to it's death.

"No!" Marek barked shooting out his right hand, palm forward, in despair, desperation in his eyes. To his utter amazement and horror, the cake stopped in mid-air completely horizontal. Some of the top two tiers had started to lean and Marek focused, leveling the tiers and loose icing back to their original position before freezing the whole cake in mid-air. Mistress Aluha gasped again, but Marek had not heard it, for he was concentrating hard on the cake.

Ignoring Mistress Aluha, Marek began slowly walking toward the cake, his right hand still extended toward it. He stopped within three feet of it and slowly began to twist his right hand. The cake began to rotate back the way it had dropped from and he gently placed it on the table from where it had fallen. When he was sure the cake was stable, he dropped his hand and released the breath he did not know he was holding.

He inhaled and exhaled heavily, hands on his knees. Whatever had happened left him feeling even more ragged than the many hours of hard work in the Kitchens. He let it sink in what had just occurred and his mouth dropped open and he glanced at Mistress Aluha. Her face was pale, but blank. He thought she seemed scared. It dawned on him in that moment that she knew what had transpired and was not at all ready for it.

"I... I... I don't...." he got out in a trembling voice before she held up her hand. It was shaking.

"Do not speak of this to anyone, Marek! I mean anyone! Ever!" she whispered fiercely. He had never seen her so shaken. She covered the cake and moved it further into the depths of the large Kitchen, keeping it out of the way in case of more accidents. Marek sat heavily on the cask of brandy next to him, his mind running rampant at the thoughts of what had just occurred.

What had happened? How was that possible? He knew that some women had Talents, but they were almost always taken to the Palace of the Rose to become Sisters. He had never heard about a man using Talents before. He was not sure why, but he had the feeling that it was not a good thing to be able to do for a man.

Over the next weeks, Mistress Aluha came to his room night after night and told him everything she knew about Talents. She could not tell him what would happen to him in particular or about any Talents that would come to him, but she remained vigilant that he tell no one. Especially anyone with ties to the Nobility of Snow.

She did, however, tell him that the Castle Library would have more information about it. She had warned him that if he were to start asking questions there, though, it might arouse suspicion. And if that was not enough, Master Bryn might have some tomes in his bookshop. She warned him to be careful there, as well.

That was the first night he had learned of his Talent for remembering everything he read. It was also when he learned that a man had not been with Talents in over a thousand years. Every man back then had been found out and executed. That had made him shudder and solidified Mistress Aluha's reasons for his secrecy. He appreciated the danger she took in keeping his secrets. She would surely be seen as harboring a fugitive freak and would be seen to deserve the same fate as the oddity. Whatever that fate may be.

Marek frowned as he finished the book. It was clear to him that smithing was not something he would be very good at, but if he was in a tight pinch, he at least knew how to craft a sword or shield and at the very least, a decent knife.

His mind was on the next day's events. Since he was of age, he would go through the ceremony of Naming Day. He would have to show off his battle prowess, for which he thought he had very little, regardless of all of the books he had memorized on the subject of violence. Although, he had been practicing with his quarterstaff every day since finding out he had Talents. He felt more comfortable with that. That or his hands. He was getting better with them as well. His hands were remarkably strong from his time in the Kitchens. Mistress Aluha was always praising him for his hidden strength.

Marek hated the idea of the Tournament. He did not see why young men needed to be able to prove their battle prowess in front of the entirety of Snow. He understood that the Queen and her entourage were there to find men ready to join the Guardsmen, but he would feel embarrassed in her presence when he was humiliated on the battleground.

Then it would be time to meet the Queen. He had never met Queen Anwyn before, but all of the rumors he had heard, named her the most beautiful woman in the Kingdom. He doubted that, but he really didn't know how to judge beauty. He had never seen anyone other than the inhabitants of Snow. The last few Summonings had found him elbow-deep in some kind of bird or roll of dough in the Kitchens, missing out on the arrival of the Queen.

Also, according to gossip, the Princess was to be in attendance this year and she was just as beautiful as her mother. Then lastly, the Feast Mistress Aluha was making. He was looking forward to that part of the day even if it meant that he would have to get up in front of the entire Isle and declare himself a man. Marek had helped her prepare most of the meal and he was proud of their teamwork.

He knew he needed sleep, but there were at least four hours of daylight left and if he went to sleep now, he would be up before dawn and be asleep before the Feast after meeting the Queen.

Instead, he gathered up his green cloak and stepped in front of his long oval mirror that reached the floor. He kept his head shaven and noted that his brown eyes looked almost black. They had been getting darker since he found his Talents. His eyes swept over his small frame, secretly well-muscled, and he knew that most of the men in the hold thought of him as weak, but they didn't have to lift seventy-pound barrels of mead or the one-hundred-pound rolls of dough in the Kitchens. He was stronger than anyone gave him credit for.

He threw the green cloak over his shoulder and left the Orphanage heading into the brisk wind. As soon as he exited into the crisp air, he felt a strangeness to it. It felt... foul. Something was wrong here. Very wrong. He glanced around and found nothing out of the ordinary. He couldn't shake the feeling as he wandered around the village.

Was this another Talent trying to manifest itself on it's own? He had no idea, as his Talents appeared at random, but he definitely did not want to be out in the open in case he burst into flames or something. He began heading back to his room at the Orphanage.

"Blood and bloody ashes." he mumbled to himself knowing that if Mistress Aluha had heard him curse like that, she would force gingerberry juice down his throat. She had done so before.

Even inside of his room he could not stop the feeling of unease that coursed throughout his body. He could not think what it meant, but there was a meaning, of that he was sure. He fell asleep with the feeling still strong. He slept fitfully. He was about to discover a new Talent.

CHAPTER 2: INTO THE DREAM

Queen Anwyn Moonshadow, Guiding Light of Terra, tossed and turned as she dreamed. It was not a nightmare, but it wasn't pleasant. In her dream, she was in the Castle of Terra and was running through the maze of corridors that ran through the interior of the hold. That, in itself, was odd. Queen's never ran. Yet, she was and she was sure she knew she was searching for something. Or someone.

So, she kept running. And running. Suddenly, she wheeled around on her heels as an ear-piercing shriek filled the entire castle. Her blood ran cold as she recognized the voice. It was her daughter, Zarine, Future Guiding Light of Terra. She was in trouble.

She doubled her speed and bolted up the steps to her daughter's chambers. All ninety-seven of them. She threw open the doors and found a naked Zarine stiff-backed against a wall holding a blanket close to her, pointing across the room. She turned to see a shaven-haired boy hastily scrambling around, searching the windows.

"Stop!" the Queen screamed causing both Zarine and the boy to jump. The boy spun and looked at her. She gasped in surprise. He was the most beautiful child she had ever seen and that included her daughter. Zarine was absolutely stunning and had the curves and ample bosom even at her age of eighteen naming-days.

"What is the meaning of this?" she barked at the boy. The boy looked absolutely terrified, and perplexed. She thought that was strange. "I will call the guard!"

"Please! I do not know how I got here!" the boy pleaded in a frantic, but surprisingly soothing voice.

The Queen stepped in front of her daughter who was still shivering against the wall holding the blanket tightly. The boy's eyes were large and scared looking. To her surprise, the boy slumped into the chair at the small table near Zarine's bed. He looked more confused than scared now and he did not recognize either of them, of that, she was sure. Anyone who had ever seen the Queen or the Princess never forgot what they looked like.

She cautiously approached the boy, ignoring Zarine's warnings of danger. Suddenly, she was enveloped in a feeling she couldn't instantly put her finger on. She drew herself up straighter trying to decipher that feeling. As she got closer, she realized that the boy was crying. She was now within a few feet of the boy. She knew, at this proximity, that the feeling was coming from him, without question.

"Oh, my!" she whispered to herself as she realized what the feeling was. Pure lust.

Her heart beat faster than it had in a very long time. Her cheeks flushed red and she tried to ignore the heat spreading to the parts of her body no man had touched in five years, since the death of the King, her husband. As if she weren't able to control herself, she launched at the boy. She saw his eyes grow even wider, in shock, if that were possible as she knocked him out of the chair. As soon as their skin touched one another's, she was filled with the utmost ecstasy and... something else.

Sparks flew about the room as they wrestled on the floor. She was groping for his trousers while trying to kiss his soft full lips. The boy was struggling defiantly clutching her wrists, begging her to stop. Zarine just watched in horror and non-understanding. The Queen couldn't help herself, ignoring the fact that every time their skin touched somehow sparks danced about the room casting small shadows. With one last effort the boy managed to wriggle out from underneath her cursing like a sailor. He disappeared instantly.

The Queen awoke sweating profusely. Her eyes felt heavy as she glanced around the Grand Carriage. It was far larger than any carriage she had ever seen moving. She knew there were a few eccentrics that used several older Grand Carriages as homes just outside of the Castle gates of this particular village.

Her eyes fell on her sleeping daughter. With Zarine's striking crimson-red hair, almost the color of blood and small freckles on the bridge of her nose, she resembled her father. She did not have the raven-black hair that Anwyn had. At least she had the bright green eyes that she, herself, had. Her bountiful chest rose and fell slowly and steadily in the embrace of sleep.

Their personal servant, Selindra, slept next to Zarine breathing much the same. Selindra was the youngest personal servant the Castle had ever had, but she had been trained by her mother, Sanna, the greatest servant ever. Selindra was only three years older than Zarine.

Selindra was exquisitely beautiful, but always made sure she did not outshine the Queen or Zarine. Long yellow hair, the color of honey, hung in curls around her slender shoulders. Anwyn loved Selindra. Zarine loved Selindra. Sometimes, briefly, the Queen wished she looked like Selindra. The Queen and her daughter had the full hips and large breasts that were common in Terra. Selindra had the thin hips, long legs, and medium, if not smaller, bosom common to Skri, known for their seduction techniques.

Anwyn thought about the first time she had seen Selindra's mother at the Summoning years ago, in Skri. Sanna had won the dance contest and had also proven herself to be the best servant in a land known for the honor of servitude. When Anwyn's mother had Summoned Sanna, Anwyn had been delighted. Anwyn had always been an adventurous girl and she knew that Sanna would teach her the ways of the Lap of Lotus. It would have to be in secret, of course. No future Queen would want anyone to know that she had taken lessons from a servant on how better to seduce, bed and find the uttermost pleasure from men. And women.