As I hinted at before, this post has the additional benefit of being also done in video with a dramatic reading... You can find the video on the downloads page of my website...
PLEASE tell me what you think of it and how much you liked it... How much people like it will correspond to how often I do things like this... Also, the picture in between sections is the drawing that Seth did for me for the Arquenia Saga, so...
Enjoy!
Part XXXVIII: A Message for the Emperor
Yippah 11th, 114 A.U.
Jaigran, Duke of the Upper Skies, Lord of the Lower Earth, First of the Supreme Elves, Highest of the Flyers, General of the Imperial Army, Emperor of Arquenia, was restless. Jaigran nearly smiled with amusement as all of his officials made up lame excuses to have absence. And Jaigran allowed them, a faint smile trickling along his lips. None of the officials wanted to be around him while he was restless… quite possibly because of what happened the last time he was restless. That was one hundred and eighteen years ago, when he first dreamed about the Mothership…
Jaigran stood up and rubbed his head with his golden gauntlets. As he did so, he reached into the secret compartment in his throne and drew out his long golden corsha spear. And doing so, he sat back down upon his throne in a state of mental peace, his stomach slowly moving in rhythm with his breathing.
He was such a hypocrite, yes, Jaigran knew. For all his talk about abolishing the old corsha for the new technology, he still clung closely to his weapon. The one that he had taken long ago… Jaigran was silent as he remembered his deeds of the past, when he remembered her, when he remembered what they…
Jaigran stood up, opening his eyes wide, as he readjusted his grip on his spear. He needed to do something. It was one hundred and fourteen years since he became emperor, and still, not all the races were in subjugation. Sure their long-going plans were reaching its fruition but still…
He was the Emperor of Arquenia! He was the General of the Imperial Army! It was high time enough that every single intelligent being bowed the knee to him, the First of the Supreme Elves! Whenever it came, even if it came at this moment, it was over a century too late! He had lived longer than a normal elf, yes, much longer, but he was going to make sure, even if it was at his dying breath, that he would see the world in complete subjugation to him before he died! He would-
At that moment, the doors flew open, and, muttering a curse, Jaigran quickly stashed his spear back into his throne as he walked forward. Two elven guards were holding back a struggling winged female elf. The elf looked mad, her long hair flying everywhere, her clothes unheaveled, and her torn wings beating.
“Get it!” she screamed. “Get it out of me! Take it away!”
“What is this?” Emperor Jaigran asked, as he stepped forward.
“Help me!” the elf exclaimed. “Oh help me! Kill me! Rip out my throat and end my misery and the-“ Her voice morphed into a scream, and then, the sound from her mouth abruptly stopped. He moved his mouth, but no sound came out. Her eyes stared at Emperor Jaigran in horror and then, they rolled back into her head as she went still. And then, the elf spoke.
“Hello, Emperor Jaigran,” a cold low voice said. “It is a pleasure to meet you.” The two guards froze. Jaigran’s skin crawled at the low voice that emitted from the female elf.
“I am Emperor Jaigran,” Jaigran said, not willing to let this strange creature disturb his mindset, “the Emperor of Arquenia. What do you want?”
“I am the Guardian,” the voice said. “I am the one who has kept the world of Arquenia for over millennia. I have come to offer you a proposition.”
“You offer me a proposition…” Jaigran said, suspiciously. “What kind of proposition?”
“A deal; a mutual agreement of sorts between the two of us,” the voice said, the voice dripping with smoothness. “A way to establish your rule over Arquenia once and for all, where there is none who would dare oppose you.”
“And what do you want out of this?” Jaigran asked. There was always a catch.
“Power,” the voice said. “You may be ruler, but it is only by giving me power that you will be able to do so.”
“Forgive me for not being overly suspicious of your deal,” Jaigran said sarcastically. “But-“
“My resident body comes from the Citadel of Tzel-Maret,” the voice cried out. “It is to that citadel that you must go.”
“Your resident body?” Jaigran asked, reaching for his gun he kept hidden.
The winged elf vomited all over the floor and a spasm went through it. “Go to Tzel-Maret,” the deep voice said. “My hold is passing… passing…”
Suddenly, the elf’s eyes snapped alert, a more feminine shriek emitting from her lips. Her body went rigid and moved upward, her neck twisting and her eyes following a certain upward trajectory. She opened her mouth and stared as if some invisible spirit had just exited her body. And then her body went limp and she fell, collapsing in the pool of her own vomited.
The guards started, reaching for their weapons in fear, and Jaigran himself found himself flinching in horror as he felt his face pale. Jaigran sucked on his lips for a moment, and then, finally, spoke to the cowering dumb-struck guards.
“Leave,” he said quickly. “Go and let no one disturb me.”
“Should we-” one of the guards began as one of them moved toward the elf.
“No,” Jaigran said, seeing his intent. “Leave her here and I will deal with her when she awakens. Now leave.” The guards quickly exited the room.
Jaigran was still for a couple moments as his chest heaved, adrenaline still racing. “The citadel of Tzel-Maret…” Jaigran slowly said, and he walked toward the map that hung on the wall portraying the geography of Arquenia. “The ancient citadel of Tzel-Maret…”
Question of the Week:What do you think about doing it in video?
PLEASE tell me what you think of it and how much you liked it... How much people like it will correspond to how often I do things like this... Also, the picture in between sections is the drawing that Seth did for me for the Arquenia Saga, so...
Enjoy!
Part XXXVIII: A Message for the Emperor
Yippah 11th, 114 A.U.
Jaigran, Duke of the Upper Skies, Lord of the Lower Earth, First of the Supreme Elves, Highest of the Flyers, General of the Imperial Army, Emperor of Arquenia, was restless. Jaigran nearly smiled with amusement as all of his officials made up lame excuses to have absence. And Jaigran allowed them, a faint smile trickling along his lips. None of the officials wanted to be around him while he was restless… quite possibly because of what happened the last time he was restless. That was one hundred and eighteen years ago, when he first dreamed about the Mothership…
Jaigran stood up and rubbed his head with his golden gauntlets. As he did so, he reached into the secret compartment in his throne and drew out his long golden corsha spear. And doing so, he sat back down upon his throne in a state of mental peace, his stomach slowly moving in rhythm with his breathing.
He was such a hypocrite, yes, Jaigran knew. For all his talk about abolishing the old corsha for the new technology, he still clung closely to his weapon. The one that he had taken long ago… Jaigran was silent as he remembered his deeds of the past, when he remembered her, when he remembered what they…
Jaigran stood up, opening his eyes wide, as he readjusted his grip on his spear. He needed to do something. It was one hundred and fourteen years since he became emperor, and still, not all the races were in subjugation. Sure their long-going plans were reaching its fruition but still…
He was the Emperor of Arquenia! He was the General of the Imperial Army! It was high time enough that every single intelligent being bowed the knee to him, the First of the Supreme Elves! Whenever it came, even if it came at this moment, it was over a century too late! He had lived longer than a normal elf, yes, much longer, but he was going to make sure, even if it was at his dying breath, that he would see the world in complete subjugation to him before he died! He would-
At that moment, the doors flew open, and, muttering a curse, Jaigran quickly stashed his spear back into his throne as he walked forward. Two elven guards were holding back a struggling winged female elf. The elf looked mad, her long hair flying everywhere, her clothes unheaveled, and her torn wings beating.
“Get it!” she screamed. “Get it out of me! Take it away!”
“What is this?” Emperor Jaigran asked, as he stepped forward.
“Help me!” the elf exclaimed. “Oh help me! Kill me! Rip out my throat and end my misery and the-“ Her voice morphed into a scream, and then, the sound from her mouth abruptly stopped. He moved his mouth, but no sound came out. Her eyes stared at Emperor Jaigran in horror and then, they rolled back into her head as she went still. And then, the elf spoke.
“Hello, Emperor Jaigran,” a cold low voice said. “It is a pleasure to meet you.” The two guards froze. Jaigran’s skin crawled at the low voice that emitted from the female elf.
“I am Emperor Jaigran,” Jaigran said, not willing to let this strange creature disturb his mindset, “the Emperor of Arquenia. What do you want?”
“I am the Guardian,” the voice said. “I am the one who has kept the world of Arquenia for over millennia. I have come to offer you a proposition.”
“You offer me a proposition…” Jaigran said, suspiciously. “What kind of proposition?”
“A deal; a mutual agreement of sorts between the two of us,” the voice said, the voice dripping with smoothness. “A way to establish your rule over Arquenia once and for all, where there is none who would dare oppose you.”
“And what do you want out of this?” Jaigran asked. There was always a catch.
“Power,” the voice said. “You may be ruler, but it is only by giving me power that you will be able to do so.”
“Forgive me for not being overly suspicious of your deal,” Jaigran said sarcastically. “But-“
“My resident body comes from the Citadel of Tzel-Maret,” the voice cried out. “It is to that citadel that you must go.”
“Your resident body?” Jaigran asked, reaching for his gun he kept hidden.
The winged elf vomited all over the floor and a spasm went through it. “Go to Tzel-Maret,” the deep voice said. “My hold is passing… passing…”
Suddenly, the elf’s eyes snapped alert, a more feminine shriek emitting from her lips. Her body went rigid and moved upward, her neck twisting and her eyes following a certain upward trajectory. She opened her mouth and stared as if some invisible spirit had just exited her body. And then her body went limp and she fell, collapsing in the pool of her own vomited.
The guards started, reaching for their weapons in fear, and Jaigran himself found himself flinching in horror as he felt his face pale. Jaigran sucked on his lips for a moment, and then, finally, spoke to the cowering dumb-struck guards.
“Leave,” he said quickly. “Go and let no one disturb me.”
“Should we-” one of the guards began as one of them moved toward the elf.
“No,” Jaigran said, seeing his intent. “Leave her here and I will deal with her when she awakens. Now leave.” The guards quickly exited the room.
Jaigran was still for a couple moments as his chest heaved, adrenaline still racing. “The citadel of Tzel-Maret…” Jaigran slowly said, and he walked toward the map that hung on the wall portraying the geography of Arquenia. “The ancient citadel of Tzel-Maret…”
Question of the Week:What do you think about doing it in video?
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