The First Post

Hi, Blue Jay here! A little bit about me: I usually use webs, (see The Blue Jay Site at Other Sites for other sites), so I am new to blogger. I love writing, so I thought I'd celebrate the opening of my site with the first chapter and prologue of my story, currently called Snakefang (Copyright Blue Jay). Feel free to comment!

Prologue

         Long, long ago, in Ancient China, during the Ming Dynasty, was a skilled craftsman called Tsing Zao. Using his exemplary skill, Zao forged two necklaces. With the help of an extraordinary magician, Bo, Zao gave the necklaces more power than ever imaginable.

         One black, the other white, they had the power to kill a helpless baby and bring it back to life years later with the knowledge and skill of a much older person. Zao hid the necklaces away for many years, but he had always been a greedy, selfish liar. He used the white necklace to grant himself immortality using some of the sparks of magic Bo had left behind in the necklace.

“Immortality, imor, imor, come to mua, come to mua!” A man huddled in the corner of a room, in front of a sea-green pool. Suddenly, the air crackled as if lightning had struck, and a man appeared in front of him, swathed in rose and scarlet.

“Zao,” the man’s deep voice echoed around the room. “Leave now, and give those to me!” His tall, lean figure was menacing in front of the black-swathed man’s shorter stature.

“Leave,” commanded the man, raising his eyes. The other man stumbled backwards until he stood in the doorway of the room. “I will be back, Zao,” he threatened. “I suggest you leave me those necklaces.”

“And why would I do that?” Zao leered at the tall man with nasty, crooked teeth. “These necklaces have sworn allegiance to me, and me only!” His voice cracked, and an evil laugh rose from the depths of his throat. “Be gone, Bo! Be gone and be gone forever!” his voice hissed and he raised his eyes once more. Bo pulled a jewel out of his pocket and pointed it at Zao. His pale hand quivered, and a blue vein pulsed in the back of his hand. “I’m warning you Zao.”

“Oh, Bo,” Zao sighed. “Be gone!” Bo put his eyes to the jewel. Golden light filled the room, and both were gone.

         Serafina looked around the still air. It was morning in Fernwood, and the streets were already bustling with activity. Suddenly, the golden doors of the palace swung open. The President raced out, golden heels clanking on the floor. “Has anybody seen the Candidate?” his breath was coming in short gasps, and Serafina smiled. The Candidate was the President’s son, and was always running away. The Candidate succeeded the President, but the current Candidate seemed like he preferred running from his beautiful palace of a home. That was the way it was in Fernwood, and always would be. The small country of Dawnfod was located at the top of Earth’s poles. Fernwood, its capitol, was a mass of skyscrapers. Technology may have advanced, thought Serafina, but nature has worsened. She had heard stories from her mother, Holly, about how this continent used to be an ice cap, which humans called Antarctica. But that was over 500 years ago. “Now, Antarctica is called Dawnfod”, Holly would say. “And such a silly name I would never imagine.”

         A flash of red fire streaked through the sky. The Northern Lights! Serafina hurried to the Athens building, and began to climb the mile-long flight of stairs. The elevators were already filling up, and a line was forming at the bottom. The elevator could only take 20 people at a time, and there were millions in the city of Dawnfod.  By the time Serafina reached the top, she was breathing hard and her long golden dress was tattered. I’ll get a good scolding for this, she thought miserably. But she lifted her head to the sky anyway. The lights shone, red, yellow, green, blue, purple, pink, magenta, turquoise. A man in a yellow suit stood next to her. “You’d think the President was hoarding all his money for himself and the Candidate,” he remarked. “The Lights have gotten steadily worse.”

         Serafina sighed and tossed her long, pale hair to her right shoulder. Why couldn’t people let her believe the Northern Lights were real? They had stopped years ago, just like the ice, and now, the President and the Candidate put on a show of fireworks every year that were a perfect replica of the Northern Lights. Serafina frowned and rubbed the sole of her bare foot on the ground. Her rat, Colt, poked his head out of her curtain of hair, chattering.

“Go away, Colt,” Serafina growled. “I’m trying to pretend the Northern Lights are real.” Colt slipped down her dress and skittered under the hem. Finally, the Northern Lights stopped. People moved slowly towards the exits, and Serafina was caught up in the slow crowd. Then, another firework flashed into the sky, this time white, standing out against the blackness. Beware, it read. Beware of the wrath of the Lord of the Sea. The sky faded, and then another firework flashed. Give me the girl, Serafina. Give her to me tonight.

Chapter 1

         Arya sat in the corner of a room, by a silver pool. Her robes were silver and her spunky red hair was tied up in a bun. Her white porcelain face portrayed nothing. The Keeper rushed into the room, the thrum of his footsteps upsetting a bowl of silver water and floating flowers that sat in front of her. Arya’s eyes snapped open. Her hazel eyes flared with anger, but she rose to her feet and looked the Keeper in the eye.

“Wise One,” the Keeper bowed to her. “The President would like to talk to you.” Dusting some water off, Arya redid her bun with quick, deft strokes, and painted something on a scroll and set it in a corner before turning back to the Keeper.

“Show me,” she ordered. The Keeper bobbed his head ferociously, and set off, his gold-shoed feet barely touching the ground, and his uneven pace making loud thumping noises on the smooth white floor of the Presidential Building. Arya’s feet lifted off the floor and were placed down again without a single sound. The Keeper stopped at an intersection of the corridors. Arya caught up to him with long, graceful strides. “Which way?” she inquired.

“The Throne Room, my Wise One,” the Keeper squeaked. The Arya shot off into the second corridor. After a few minutes, Arya reached tall, bronze doors. She nodded to the guards, raised a fist, and knocked. Anna, the silver-haired maid, opened the door, smiling toothlessly at Arya. The President and the Candidate sat in gold and silver thrones with master craftsmanship. Only one individual could have sculpted these chairs out of molten metal. Tsing Zao. Arya’s gaze traveled from the chairs to the people. A blue-haired woman stood next to the President’s throne. Arya’s eyes stretched wide in shock. A Wise One? No, no, no! The President’s gold-filled teeth and hard black eyes smiled cruelly down at her. “This is Bella,” the President introduced the blue-haired lady. Arya nodded her head respectfully at the new One. “Now, Arya, I will give you one chance to keep your—ah—job here. Answer this question truthfully and correctly, and you can remain here. Answer it wrong, and Bella will replace you.” He leaned forward so his face was just above Arya’s. “Ready?” Golden fillings flashed in his shining teeth. “Good.” The President leaned back, his black robes resting on his knees.

“Do you believe in joining the Cause?” His eyes flashed. Arya looked over at the Candidate. She didn’t think this was a job. This was a requirement. The Cause was a group of people who went against the President and Candidate. Her gaze faltered for a minute and then raised her head. The truthful answer, she reminded herself. The truthful answer. “No.”

         There was a collective gasp, and someone screamed. The President stared hardly at Linda, and she fell silent.

“Leave,” the President ordered, iciness creeping into the edges of his voice. As Arya left, she curtly touched Linda’s hand, and then Anna’s. She was probably never going to see them again. Anna was getting too old, and would soon retire to her family home in Lakeshore. Linda probably would move away to a far-off city like Watsonville, and stay there. Arya knew for a fact Linda was dedicated to the Cause. Her parents had been former royalty years ago. Her father President, her mother Candidate. When Linda’s father had died of a virus, Linda’s mother had become President and Linda Candidate. Then, the Riders had come, the Golden Riders. They had raided the castle, and dethroned Linda’s mother. Their leader, the current President, had made himself President and used Linda to get information. He made his son Candidate, and made Arya the Wise One. She had been with Linda’s parents, too, and they used her also to get information. For what, Arya had no idea. She had only told them Sir Luke’s and Lady Catalina’s first names.

         Her feet thrumming rhythmically on the floor, Arya set off at a run to her meditating room. She quickly packed everything into a bag, shredding prophecies of the President and the Candidate.  Last of all, she held the scroll up to the light. The sun shone through it, making the meaning clear. She pushed it into her bag and slung it over one shoulder. She had to find the Named Girl.