Fan Fiction ❯ Jet ❯ Storm ( Chapter 1 )

Chapter One

The waves were crashing high, against the rocky cliffs of the isle. Dark Clouds filled the night sky, the moon hidden behind them. Against the darkness the bright, burning dragon's of the Visgoths wheeled in all directions, their confused riders unsure of their purpose.

From the largest dragon, luftherz, a great black and red intelligent creature, the king glared angrily into the stormy sky. It suited his mood perfectly. He lashed out at luftherz's sides with his long silvern goad, his glaring blue eyes scanning the sea for a sign of his daughter. She was nowhere to be seen.

All around him the Visgothic nobility searched for her. He saw the faces of many. They were confused. Why were they hunting down the king's beloved daughter? It made no sense! Whatever she had done to enrage her hateful father could not be deserving of this! Besides, being the last direct heir to the black dynasty, she had unthinkable sorcerous powers. Their search was futile.

However they continued their search. Eventually the king admitted that perhaps, he had not managed to seal all of his daughter's powers, she may have escaped the kingdom of the Darkelven, Von-dein. But why? She was obvious in appearance as a Visgoth noble. Her black hair and blue, silver gilt eyes alone would mark her out. The Solaris, or Lightelven, sworn enemies of the Darkelven would never protect her. They might have even captured her already. The king felt a tinge of fear. If his daughter was killed before he had the rune, his world was surely doomed. He called for his councillors.

The next day over a thousand elven spies were sent to locate the princess, but the king received word of only sketchy rumours and legends. The banished light elves of the outer continent's spoke of the coming of the Elfeni, darkempress.

***

The tall girl walked with grace, despite her tiredness, into the tavern. She wore a long black cloak, the hood hiding her black hair. Her beautiful clothes were of black suede and silk and embroidered in silver. Her riding breeches were tucked into her tall black suede-riding boots. She walked up to the counter and waited to be served. A smiling elf with golden hair and portly stomach approached her. "What can I get for you my dear?" he looked her up and down appreciatively, pausing at her eyes. She had managed in her exhaustion to tint them green, but it was impossible to hide the rim of silver that gilt her irises. The bartender's eyebrows furrowed. She tried to distract him, he obviously thought her a halfbreed or spy. She smiled pleasantly. His face softened. "I'd like something to eat and drink and a room for the night, thankyou."

"Certainly!" He started pouring her an ale. "Stranger to this town lovie?"

She was having difficulty staying awake. "Hm? Oh Yes, I've been travelling none stop for a week to get this far!" "Well then. You're in luck! Tonight's our famous fightnight! We have demonstrations of Chitze-xan kung-fu once a month!" "Really?" She loved all martial arts. "I've heard of Chitze-xan. I've never seen it though…" He passed her meal and a key. "You won't be disappointed! Here's your stew, and there's your room key. That'll be 130 K thanks."

She absently grabbed her purse from her waist. "130?" "Yes. My dear, best rates in town!" She handed him a 2ooK gold silk and smiled. "thank you."

She made her way to a quiet table at the back with a view of the demonstration area in the centre of the room. She placed her meal on the table and very subtly adjusted the hang of her sword so she could sit without anyone noticing it. The stew was okay, but not nearly as salty as she would have liked. She reached into her leather bag hung from shoulder to hip, and retrieved a small dose of her favourite drug. It gave her a wonderful feeling of well being without dumbing her senses too much. In this happy state she settled back for a restful evening.

She had not long gotten a third drink, lightelven vodka, very good, when the monks of the Chitze-xan discipline began their hypnotic fights. They were all clad in white tunics and baggy pants. Their bare feet were silent in movement, flipping in and out of duels, with infinite ease. The girl in the corner was enthralled. The crowd moved in her way. She stood, unconscious of her movements and moved into the crowd. It was hot and people bumped into her. She worked her way to the front, not noticing the way people had formed a space around her.

On and on the monks went, flying up and down occasionally. The Chitze-xan were one of the few elvish disciplines to master the art of flying with ones will. All other similar knowledge had been lost, even to her own people, the black dynasty of sorcerous monarchs, whose priests were regarded as the greatest in the world, rivalled only by the Solaris clan. She smiled in her pleasure at the spectacle before her. She clapped her hands, feeling infinitely better. It was not until they finished and she noticed the silence around her did she realise her hood was back. Panic rose in her heart. The Vis-Gothic people were the eternal enemies of the people of Solaris. She kept smiling as she thought. The lighting in tavern was dark so she knew they wouldn't be sure her hair was black. With her renewed energies she used her will to make her hair gradually dampen and lightened it to blonde from the underneath upwards. With her newly blonde hair, darkened by water she spun around and almost skipped back towards the bar for a refill.

"Hey! You! Where you from?" She looked back. "Excuse me?" The speaker, a solder of the Solaris royal guard by the look of him, advanced towards her. The crowd separated. He spoke again, his handsome features set behind his golden helm. "I said where are you from?"

"I heard you, I've just never been spoken to by a royal guard in such an unflattering manner." She looked completely at ease to him. A beautiful girl with hair still wet from travel. "Well then I apologise. Where, my dear lady dost thou travel whence?"

She smiled indulgently at him, "Well, my dear sir. One journeys from the city of Lorn, but a weeks hard ride from here." He bowed. "I am much obliged." The crowd saw their apparent mistake withdrew to their former joy. The guard deciding to turn the situation to his favour held an arm, golden in it's mail, out to the girl.

She hesitated. Gold was horribly toxic to her kind. This however was a guarded secret, know only by darkelven. The punishment for telling of it was death by exposure to it. The most horrific fate possible on this plane. For this reason, the darkelven gilt their mithril armour and clothes with silver. She knew he could only be waring a very diluted form of gold as gilding, for practical reasons of strength. She smiled and took his arm, protected for the time being by her cloak. "You may escort me to the bar if you wish kind sir." Bards had taken the stage. Four guitars, electric, drums and a singer were playing their emotional, loud rock. The crowd formed a moshpit in front of the stage.

From her stool at the bar with the guard, the girl longed to join in and forget herself in the music.

"So what's your name?"

"oh? My name? …it's…Jet..."

"A beautiful name. I have never met a Jet before…Jet is a black stone is it not?"

"Yes. You have probably already guessed, but my father is of the Visgoths. I ran away from him and his degenerate race." She smiled. "God knows what my mother saw in him!"

"I would not worry! You obviously take after your mother. But between you and me, are the Visgoths all that different to us?"

Thoughtfully she answered, "In all honesty no. Our races are divided by small culture and physical differences only. We are all, after all, descendants of the first empire, The Elfenian empire. The Visgoths were definitely the more greedy, bloodthirsty clans that sundered our world in two. They deserve the hatred we have for them."

He nodded in agreement. "Your kind, umm.."

"Halfbreeds?"

"yes.. They would understand best I suppose."

"Hm.. I think I might join the mosh. Want to come?"

"No thanks."

She quickly headed into the crowd. She had been there only 2 songs when they entered the room. The darkelven elite guard. That meant they were looking for her! She edged slowly for the stairs. They were speaking to the bartender. They produced a hologram of her face. An official portrait. The bartender shrugged but his eyes darted toward Jet. The captain followed his gaze. His eyes locked onto her. She looked down, if he sees my eyes I'm caught. She looked up. Into the bright green eyes of the guard. He wrapped his arm around me and whispered in my ear, "I don't suppose that Visgoth father of yours would be the king now would he?"

"If you are right, you know I don't need your aid in a fight."

"Oh no! Not a mighty Visgothic sorcerer-princess!. You might appreciate my help in avoiding a fight however. You obviously value your cover." He played with her hair. "Hmph. Yes.*sigh* I suppose I would…"

"Well then…" he took her by the hand and led her up the stairs with her back was to the elites. Jet saw him glance over her shoulder and pale slightly. He looked into her eyes. "Lean close to me. They're coming. What's your room number?"

"Um,err,,7?" "Okay lets go." He held the girl in a half embrace all the way to my room. She grabbed the key and let them in. The room had a window. "Thanks dude-sir, but I think I'll be heading on now."

He was listening at the door. "I'd wait till their gone then head for the capital if I were you. They'll never be allowed in there."

"Can you be so sure? Anyway. They will recognise my horse if they see it."

"Why? Is it black?"

"Well yeah…And it has wings."

His bright eyes widened a little in the moonlight. "A valkeyrie steed? You brought a Valkyerie horse into HIDING?"

The girl liked the guard. But she had no time for this. She would go to the Chitze-xan monastery and learn their fly technique. Then she would go somewhere she could think. She needed to know what the rune on her arm did. Why her father wanted to kill her for it. It must be very powerful. Then she'd have to try and sort out her screwed up life.

She peered out the window into the clearing clouds. She spread her arms, shut her eyes and called the wind elementals. Strange and disturbing was the language she spoke. It was spoken only be herself and her father, the last remnants of the dark-dynasty. The guard stopped listening and observed in quiet interest where most would have been horrified. The elementals appeared. Princess Jetixiou-Vek-rai auf Vonizdein du nuit, high priestess of Von-dein observed the beautiful creatures as they brought about a fresh storm and mist. She didn't notice at the time but so did the Solaris guard. She smiled as she reached for her ceremonial dagger and drew a line up her right arm. Eight drops was the payment for the air elementals. They thanked her and vanished.

The guard took her arm up in his and traced a finger along her cut, healing it with the soft green glow of his race. "Was that really necessary?". She was very aware of his firm grip on her arm. "Yes. I'm leaving now remember?" Lightning illuminated his face for a moment, his beautiful green eyes were rimmed with gold, as hers were with silver. He was very handsome. She was very attracted to him, despite the fact that he was a Solari elf, probably a noble. He leant even closer to her. He's hitting on me! I didn't have time for this…. but he is very nice, and he did risk a lot helping me. If he was caught he'd probably be killed. A pity. She would have kissed him if the Elites hadn't vanished the door. The elites had a bad reputation for using their magic with no real need. She pulled away from the guard.

Their beautiful armour and mail shone in the light of the witch-storm outside. The captain stepped forward and drew his long sword. She recognised him as on of her fathers personal guards as he spoke to her. "Princess! Your father has given out a warrant for your immediate arrest!"

She stood up high, her hair shining black, eyes a deep electric blue. In a swift movement her cloak was flung back and mithril mail shone were it had been covered by black, silver flashing along her throat and left arm. Her right was still hidden in folds of dark silk. Only the Solaris guard noted this, his brows furrowing his fair features. Suddenly a long double ended mithril sword materialised in her left hand. She was an image of power and majesty. Her voice, fair and proud echoed, "On what charge does my own blood betray me?"

The guard inclined his head, The Princess was an intimidating creature, "Treason my lady. It is said you have stolen the kingdoms Greatest Treasure! The great Rune of Dark, embodiment of your forefather, founder of the dark dynasty!"

"What would you say, captain Tae, if I told you that it was first lost the day after his death?"

"What do you mean?" The captain was bewildered, and proud of recognition. The Solaris guard intrigued.

"I mean that it was part of him. I could no more steal it then I could steal his soul. The Rune of Dark is something that was given to me before I was born. It is part of me." She lifted her cloak off her right arm, revealing a long series of intricate tattooing. Runes and magic gleamed there. The captain, being of noble blood could see it quite clearly, the other guards saw hints of the power that lay there.

"My father claims that I have, quite literally, stolen myself. It is stupidity."

She glanced at the guard. Then to the captain said, "I merely used the guard as cover, he is a nice boy, but I told him nothing of interest. Farewell." She turned and flipped out of the third storey window.

"Wait! My lady!"

The Solaris guard leant out the window and said quietly to himself, `interesting..'. When the captain turned to arrest him he had vanished. "Damn! Now we are screw..err..done for! The king will have us executed if he hears of this!" He glanced around at the guards. Jet had had her usual effect on them, they gazed vaguely out the window, their mouths slightly open. They would not give up the princess after having met her. She had after all convinced one of her greatest enemies, the Solaris guard of her goodness. Outside her witch-wind howled and hail fell along with warm tropical rain.

"Men! It is our duty to the king to arrest the princess, but it is our duty to the princess, who holds as much right to the throne as the king, to prove were any real treason lays. We will find a solution to the problem we, and our people face."