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Brianna’s Prophecy
Copyright © 2009 Tianna Xander
ISBN: 978-1-55487-227-5
Cover art by Martine Jardin
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.
Published by Devine Destinies
An imprint of eXtasy Books
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Brianna’s Prophecy
By
Tianna Xander
Dedication
To Kevin: My love, my life, my real life hero. This one is for you.
And yea shall she possess the Heart of Terrna, the very stone I have created to carry that which is mine.
Yet the stone shall not be the salvation of Terrna, only she who possesses it. Find the woman who possesses the Heart of Terrna, and ye shall find the savior of your world.
The people of Terrna will serve her as Queen, for she shall be Queen. Bound to the rightful Heir, she shall prevent the cataclysm, caused by the death of the sister, Tomar. If the rightful Heir should find her quickly she shall have the power to reverse the death of the sister, and all will be right with the world.
Shall she find happiness with the Heir; the world shall see peace for one thousand generations. Shall she find unhappiness; peace shall last only as long as she lives.
The gathering of evil is upon us. The others of the Sorcerers Guild of Nasha will entrap the evil while I make my escape to protect that which one day will save the world. Yea the legends be true, for I have seen it, so shall it be.
Prologue
“You can’t be serious, old man!” Niklas Voortag slammed his fist down on the table in front of him, his intense glare making his companion tremble. “What old woman told you this tall tale, my mother?”
The older man, unmistakably uncomfortable under such deliberate scrutiny, cleared his throat several times before telling his fantastic tale. “Many, many years ago,” he paused, then took a drink from the mug of ale that sat before him. “Before the great uprising, a spell was cast by a great sorcerer. He spoke of a…a Prophecy.” Standing, he paced back and forth, obviously apprehensive. His gaze wandered around the room. It was apparent he feared to make eye contact. “This Prophecy has already begun to come to pass.”
He paused again and lifted his mug with trembling hands to swallow another draught of the strong brew. Seated again, he shifted himself—a vain attempt to make himself a little more comfortable. “The Sorcerer was Morwyyn.”
At the mention of this name, Niklas, High King of Terrna, stiffened. Morwyyn had been feared by all of their people in the time of the uprising.
“Morwyyn cast a spell to always protect the rightful heir to the throne, until the year of the death of the sister, Tomar.” He cast a nervous glance toward Niklas and took another hefty draught of ale.
“He did this to protect us before he disappeared. The Sister will soon spin from her orbit, and Terrna will be overcome by the very evil Morwyyn sought to stop if the Prophecy is not brought to fruition.” His eyes, stance, and very manner pleaded with his king.
It was a fantastic story but not one Niklas was prepared to believe without evidence. “May I see Morwyyn’s scroll, Trinaugh?” He held out his hand, knowing the disbelief was clearly written on his face.
Trinaugh pulled a crumbling parchment from the worn bag he carried and handed it gently to Niklas. As the Keeper of the Light, only Trinaugh and his assistant would have known of the prophecy. Until now. It had been passed from one Keeper to the next for generations, until the rightful heir must be told. Trinaugh, and others like him, had lived and died, protecting this secret for centuries.
With growing trepidation, Niklas took the faded, tattered parchment from the wizened old man and began to read. His look of disbelief dissolved to a mask of resignation. Some of the predictions had indeed already come to pass.
What would it be like with Tomar gone? Would they even survive? He left the scroll on the table, strode to the window, and looked at the twin moons of Terrna. The identical glowing spheres lit the courtyard below with a soft silvery glow. The leaves on the trees glistened, the flowers in the courtyard shining with health under the watchful eyes of the twin moons.
“So it is true,” he spoke with quiet resignation. Niklas exhaled heavily and collapsed into his chair. He poured a large draught of ale into his mug, then rested his head in his hands and waited for the words written by Morwyyn an eternity ago to sink in.
Trinaugh stepped beside him and laid a gnarled old hand upon his shoulder. Compassion lit his eyes. “Only if you fail will the evil prevail. Only then, must we leave here as the others did during the uprising, find an uninhabited world, and begin again. Even then, the evil may follow.”
Niklas looked up into Trinaugh’s kind, gentle eyes. He knew his own were stricken with a myriad of emotions. Pain, loss, fear, resignation. All were a part of him. All battled for supremacy within his heart. The resignation won. “So, I am to be married within twelve months of the death of the sister. It shouldn’t be difficult. I have mothers throwing their daughters at my head daily.” He gave a careless shrug.
Trinaugh still looked distressed.
Niklas noticed this and immediately began to feel uneasy. He glared at Trinaugh. “Why does your countenance scare me, old man?” he said through clenched teeth. He felt a muscle tick in his jaw. Very much more of this good news, and I just might start to get giddy! Gods knew he wasn’t eager to marry an unknown woman at an unspecified time, lose his freedom forever, and most likely have to put up with incessant nagging for the rest of his days. Yeah, that sounded great! It was right at the top of his list of things to do. He rolled his eyes.
Trinaugh grimaced and wrung his hands. He obviously hated that it was he, after so many centuries of secrecy, to lose favor with his king. That it was he who had to give Niklas this bad news, which just kept getting worse. “You have not read the entire scroll, Your Highness. You cannot marry just anyone. It is your queen who will fulfill the prophecy. She will make it possible to destroy the evil forever.” Trinaugh shuffled back to his chair and lowered himself onto the seat.
The old man took another gulp of ale and turned toward Niklas, his hands trembling. If he keeps that up, Trinaugh is going to be as drunk as a Doobian Botan trainer after a winning race, Niklas thought warily. It couldn’t be good news if he had to have so much of that false courage to spit it out.
“Her hair will be the color of a Minauk in winter and her eyes the color of the jewels upon the handle of the sword of Lintau.”
Niklas’s raised his brows at the description. The color of a wintering Minauk indeed! The black in summer, gold in winter, cow-like animal was rare. The only thing that even came close was the gold brought from the planet called Earth.
The dark blue of the jewels was also unique. Nothing on this world matched their color. Nothing nat
ural, anyway. So far, they had only been successful in producing it synthetically. The sword, procured long ago, had belonged to Morwyyn. No one was certain of its origin.
“Don’t be preposterous! There is no woman on this world who could have hair and eyes the color you describe.” Niklas snorted and glared angrily at the old man. He stood so abruptly, his chair slid across the floor before tipping over onto its side with a loud crash. Everyone on their world had dark hair and eyes. Their skin was a natural golden brown, which gave the appearance of a perpetual tan. “Why should I search the entire Galaxy for such a woman? My time would be better spent here, fighting the evil that frightens you so!” Niklas roared.
“You must go!” Trinaugh cried. “The blood of millions could be on your hands! She carries the key to our salvation. Morwyyn predicted that you would recognize her.” Trinaugh shrugged, and it was a barely perceptible movement that Niklas nearly missed. “I do not know how. But you must find her, even if you must search a hundred worlds, a thousand. I have already made preparations. I have advised the Council that you intend to take an extended tour of the Galaxy. There is a replication device on your vessel, which will make anything you may need.”
“Am I to just vanish then?” Niklas raised his brow.
Trinaugh’s shoulders slumped. His lips drew down at the corners. The usual twinkle in his eyes was gone, replaced with the dull shadow of weariness that made him look older somehow.
“You have known and trusted me all of your life, Niklas. Will you stop doing so now?”
Niklas pushed a hand through already disheveled hair, looked at the man he could have easily called father, and wondered where the time had gone. When had Trinaugh gotten so old and when had he become so unyielding? “No. I cannot stop trusting you now, old friend. I will go.” Turning, he began to walk toward the device that would send him to his ship, then stopped when he felt Trinaugh’s hand upon his arm.
“We have populated many worlds, Highness. They should be among the first you search. As you already know, many vessels were sent out into the great unknown during the time of the uprising. We have records of some that were sent to us before we lost contact. The coordinates have been programmed into the computer on your vessel. Make use of them and of your time wisely. I have confidence that you shall be triumphant.”
Trinaugh continued with the very last of the prophecy, the very last of the Keepers’ knowledge. “There are no writings of this in Morwyyn’s scroll. It is a verbal record, which has also been passed through the centuries.” He tried to convey the importance of this to Niklas. “If you find happiness with her, you two will be able to halt the death of Tomar entirely.” Trinaugh clasped his hand. “Go now, Your Highness. Find your bride. Good luck and good journey.”
Chapter One
Muffled sizzling sounds came from the street, if it could even be called that. Niklas had serious doubts. He would have called it a dirty, pock-ridden ribbon of filth. It appeared as though someone had taken a machine and ruthlessly scraped away the grass and shrubbery in a winding line through the center of town. He sighed and gazed around the dimly lit interior of the bar. Loosely translated, it was called The Watering Hole, although he hadn’t seen a drop of water in this place.
The glass of dingy brown liquid that sat on the filthy table in front of him held no appeal. Niklas wondered why anyone would choose to live like this, then shook the thought off as he remembered they weren’t the ones that had made the choice. Their forefathers had chosen, and badly.
He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. He was getting another headache. In fact, he should be used to them by now. This trip had been nothing but a headache since they’d left Terrna.
Niklas bent his head forward and back, then side to side in a futile attempt to relieve some of the tension in his neck. Interesting, he noted. If he bent his head to the left, he heard faint strains of music. If he bent to the right, he more plainly heard the crunching sounds from his neighbor at a nearby table, eating something that looked disgusting. He wrinkled his nose and looked away. Whatever it was, it had still been moving. “Damn!” He cursed softly, shuddered, then looked around to make sure no one heard him. He didn’t want—or need—more trouble than he already had at the moment.
He couldn’t wait to get off this new hellhole, in a long line of hellholes. But he had to wait. His ship needed repaired. Again. Bowing his head over his unappetizing drink, he swore to himself and watched disinterestedly as the scantily dressed women gave welcoming smiles to dirty Conque miners. Some unfastened their tops, displaying their wares as they danced around the tables. They had given Niklas an abundance of attention when he arrived—because he was clean, no doubt. They soon returned to competing for the attention of the locals when they found he wasn’t interested.
The only woman he was interested in right now was The One. She was out there. It had been predicted by Morwyyn, so no matter how farfetched, it must be true.
Shifting in the hard, straight-backed chair, he checked his communications link. What was taking so long? Niklas pulled a few coins from his pocket and tossed them onto the table. He couldn’t stand it in here any longer. He needed some air. Which world was this again? Ah yes, Carn, number fourteen. All of this traveling was getting on his nerves.
He glanced back at the interior of the bar. He really wouldn’t have minded some exercise between the sheets, but had decided against it after one look at the women. He liked his women clean and didn’t like sloppy seconds. Besides, empty mindless sex just didn’t appeal to him anymore. Niklas shook his head and sighed. He must be getting old.
The street bustled with activity. People ran about in different directions. Two men dressed in black stooped over two men lying in the middle of the road obstructing traffic. The two in black looked at each other, then shook their heads. Each grabbed the arms of a man to drag the two out of the thoroughfare.
There had been a duel. This was a frontier town, they weren’t developed enough to have the technology they possessed. Off world visitors willing to share technology had given them phase pistols. Too bad they hadn’t shared sonic baths as well.
Niklas tried not to breathe too deeply as he strode through town. He avoided the muddy, dung-filled street. Instead, he walked down the mud-caked wooden sidewalk. He watched as odd beasts of burden pulled carts and walked listlessly around turnstiles. He shook his head. How glad he would be to leave this place.
A movement in a window caught his attention. Glancing up to see a large bearded man in women’s lingerie gazing at himself in a giant mirror and caressing his own nipples, Niklas stifled a laugh and kept walking. It was a long walk back to the ship. But he could honestly say he’d seen everything the town had to offer—and it wasn’t much. After leaving the town behind him, Niklas walked through the country, enjoying the scent of sweet clean air. The trees, not unlike Terrna’s, had leaves of a bluish-green color instead of deep green. The grass was tall and lush, not green, but a strange tawny-color.
With just a few farms on the outskirts of town, the odds of finding The One here were too low to make the trek worthwhile. He would leave and go onto the next world. Niklas stopped, wanting to feel that this was the right decision. He raised his hands to the sky, closed his eyes, and cleared his mind.
Look toward the blanket of stars called the milk of the Goddess. Her people know it by another name. Look there, and you shall find what you seek.
The voice washed through him. Made him feel weak, yet strengthened him in such a way that he felt invincible. It had been a message from the Goddess. Her power humbled him. Niklas looked to the sky and gave thanks. Digging a silver coin from his pocket, he buried it in the soil at his feet, waiting as the power drained from him into the ground where it belonged. He straightened, feeling much better. Even his headache was gone, for the moment at least.
When he reached the ship, he found that all hell had broken loose. The crew bustled about with phase pistols in their hands. They seemed to be looking for somet
hing…or someone. “What’s going on here?” He placed a restraining hand on the arm of one of the ship’s engineers.
“It was Ornos, Your Highness. He has been caught sabotaging the ship. Cholo found him in the engine room setting a bomb. He intended to strand us all here. Or kill us. I have to help them search.” She indicated the nearby woods where just about every one of his crewmembers milled about searching the underbrush.
“Minra.” Niklas called her name, drawing her attention. She turned, her expression distressed. “Has anyone checked the rest of the ship to make sure there are no other hazards on board?”
She nodded absently, scanned the woods looking for Ornos. “Yes, Your High—”
He interrupted her impatiently. “You know not to call me that, Lieutenant. I am your Captain, nothing more. You should call me Niklas.” When she looked ready to disagree, he added, “Sir Niklas if you must, but we cannot afford to frighten away the very person we seek, can we?”
Minra shook her head, her mouth twisted in a wry grin. “I suppose you’re right, Your…Sir Niklas. But I am going to be horribly uncomfortable with this.”
“Not any more uncomfortable than I am with marrying a woman I have never met,” Niklas said with a chuckle that he knew didn’t reach his eyes.
Minra conceded his point then excused herself to help the others search for Ornos.
Glancing around, Niklas frowned. There didn’t appear to be anything out of order on the ship, but one could never tell. “Damn it!” To be on the safe side, he was going to have to use the security device. Niklas hated that irritating voice that was constantly telling them all was well. Still, it was a small price to pay for their safety, he thought with a sigh. Striding to a console that controlled the security device, he immediately felt he should be far away from that particular station. He looked at it for a while, perplexed, but the peculiar feeling persisted.
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