Emerald
Legion, Chapter 2
"Home
is where you make it" - where three travelers find a place, and a calling
*************************************************************
Sarya,
53rd Queen of Venegar, Regent of the Emerald Throne,
Keeper of the Eye of Ekron, was not a happy
woman. The functionary next to her
babbled on about the history of the building that the UP had ‘generously
donated’ to be the new Embassy to Venegar on Earth,
and it was an abomination.
“The
Museum of Space, as you can see, was designed by famous Martian architect Rev
Soon Ak in the quirky ‘retro’ style of ‘art-deco,’
which was undergoing a resurgence of popularity in the mid-28th century. A sign of nostalgia for a simpler time of
boundless optimism, it’s kitschy, yet functional understated…”
‘Enough
of this,’ Sarya knocked the data-pad spinning from
the functionary’s hands with a casual backhand.
“Fine. Whatever. I’ll take it, just
paint the damn thing green already.”
“It looks
like someone fired a giant missile at New Metropolis, it got stuck in the
ground, and they slapped a door on it and called it a building.” Garth muttered
as they approached the bright-red door in question.
“I think
that’s what they were going for, actually.” Added Rokk, turning his own datapad
sideways, as if the building would look any less ludicrous from some other
angle.
~Well,
it’s what’s on the inside that counts, right?~
supplied Imra, with a cautiously optimistic tone.
Opening
the door and striding forward impatiently, the Queen of Venegars
next proclamation was in a language understood by all sentients,
“Aaaahhh!!!”
“What
in death’s name is that *thing*!!!” she pointed at the towering creature
roaring in her face as her Champions prepared to defend their new patron.
“Oh,
that.” Muttered the functionary, still shaking his nerveless
fingers. “It’s an artificial
construct meant to represent an extinct earth creature, called a Tyrgorasumething Rekus.”
~Tyrannosaurus
Rex.~ corrected Imra,
pointing at the name on her datapad. Lacking a datapad
of his own, the functionary just glared at her.
“Yes,
that. It’s one of the museum exhibits
that was left behind when the place was closed down.”
“Well,
it’s appalling, and completely inappropriate.” The Queen declared huffily, “It stays.” She pointed to a display on the second tier,
“And
those brutish looking ancient weapons of war.
They stay as well. Everything else goes. See to it.”
Dismissing
the functionary with an airy wave, the Queen placed her hand on the animatronic T-Rex’s snout and petted it absently as she turned
to her Champions, “Welcome to our new home.”
***************************************************************
What a
difference three days and an apparently unlimited amount of money can
make. The Embassy was now painted in a
shade of forest green, with the ‘rocket-ship fins’ painted a darker jade green
in contrast. Entering the embassy, the
original foyer had been reconstructed into various meeting rooms and guest
quarters, while the uppermost two floors had been cleared away and made into a
grand open-aired throne room, with overlooking galleries that let to private
chambers on the second tier. Every
surface of every wall had been painted a dark metallic green, appearing almost
black at a distance, and every door had been folded away into the walls when
not in use, to be replaced with a gauzy pale-green translucent sheet of cloth
that billowed in the warm breezes that circulated through the chambers. The soft scent of earth and flowering plants,
jasmine, morning-glory and lilac, wafted along these breezes, accompanied by
the occasionally raucous cries of the birds imported to flutter about these
interior gardens. The roof had been
replaced with transparent crystal of such a pale shade of green that it was all
but invisible at full transparency, that could be
darkened on command to an opaque shade of near-black jade. Wishing to surround herself with the things
of earth, her new home for a time, the foliage and fauna alike were all species
native to this world, and green and red-feathered hummingbirds flitted about
seeking sugary treasures, while a mated pair of quetzal birds engaged in some
sort of domestic dispute about their new living arrangements. Sarya hoped they
resolved this squabble soon. If they
continued to disrupt the harmony of her court, she might feel the need to
execute one or both of the disrespectful creatures…
Just over
the burbling streams she had constructed in this interior garden, a throne of
green crystal sat, and behind it, relocated from it’s former home on the first
level, towered the crouching form of the extinct earth dinosaur, one tiny
forelimb resting on the back of the throne, while it’s enormous head moved
slowly, examining each other resident of the room, it’s massive tail gently
sweeping back and forth. Every now and
then, in accordance to it’s programming, it would sniff the air in the direction
of a worker and utter a low growl. Delightful. Extinct
or not, Sarya *would* find a way to have a living
sample of this species.
The room
was prepared, and within the hour, her Champions would report to her presence,
to receive their formal recognition.
Settling herself into the throne and patting the head of her enormous
mechanical pet, Sarya awaited the day’s business.
*************************************************************
“Oh, lords
of steel and stone, there’s just no way.” Rokk
exclaimed as he lifted his ‘Champion’s Garb’ from the box. Jangling and clanking in his hands rested two
stone worth of metallo-mesh fiber one-piece bodysuit,
which, in and of itself wasn’t too awful.
Woven of a fine series of interlinked metallic chain rings, that Rokk immediately could sense as being composed of Braalian mag-steel, and further,
seemed ideally suited to his own preferred magnetic resonance frequency, the
suit looked to be form-fitting. The
links were primarily dark jade green in hue along the chest, shoulders, sides,
gloves and boots, with panels of lighter forest green along the under arms,
inner sides of the legs and lower torso.
Effective use of countershading,
and not objectionable by itself, although he would have preferred that the
colors be reversed, rather than call attention to the crotch. ‘And ass,’ he thought, as he turned the suit
around.
Still, in
his magno-ball career he’d worn far less tasteful
attire, as he was well aware that the fans didn’t show up just to see dazzling
athleticism. Sex sells, after all, and
at least the Queen wasn't requiring him to prominently display corporate
branding tattooed onto his flesh.
No, the
questionable bit were these metal ovoids
all over the suit. Each had weight to
it, and had been shellaced a glistening metallic
green, so that it was hard to tell if they were supposed to look like metal or
gemstone. Also of Braalian
mag-steel, Rokk knew that
they would resonate with his own biomagnetic field,
and be effectively weightless when worn close to the skin, but still, he
couldn’t imagine not looking like a clattering ornament-drapped
festival pole…
Oh well,
nothing for it, he certainly couldn’t tell the Queen of Venegar
that he wouldn’t be caught dead in the clothes she’d picked out for him. Shrugging, Rokk
pulled the cold metallic suit on and stepped in front of the mirror with his
eyes closed, waiting to see how bad it could possibly be.
“Wow.” It was astounding. The metal ovoids
ended up positioned over shoulders, biceps, chest, hips, forearms and thighs,
and didn’t only not look awful, they actually somehow accentuated his own
musculature. If anything, they made him
look *more* muscular, adding just the right amount of curve to look powerful,
but not bulge out cartoonishly. Turning around, his secondary fear was
confirmed. “Oh well. At least I have a nice ass.”
Practicing
walking towards the mirror with a jaunty step, he looked a little cartoonish at first, but slowing his pace down and walking
with a weighter, more deliberate step made the
skin-tight outfit actually look like a suit of armor, and with the right
confident expression, he looked pretty Champion-like and not at all like a
teenager wearing a skintight bodysuit covered with shiny metal balls...
Oh
yeah. He could work with this. Time to be a Champion.
******************************************************************
~Thoughts
of mercy! Where’s the rest of it?~ Imra thought out loud as she dug through the package,
hoping to find more components to this ‘Champion’s Garb.’ Instead, all she had was a long gauzy
transparent scrap of cloth that looked like the curtains Sarya
had insisted on replacing the doors with, ~Have they no concept of privacy?~, a few dark green leather bits that could have come from
a Serellian squirrel, ~Actually, the squirrel would
have hide left over…~, and a bunch of flexible golden tubes of Titanian psi-metal, ~It’s illegal
to export this off of Titan! It’s good
to be the Queen, I guess…~.
Imra
spent a decent interval attempting to figure out how these various components
would assemble to form anything remotely resembling ‘clothing,’ ~Great
archetype! Couldn’t she have included
instructions? I had an easier time
assembling a mitochondrial DNA structure in molecular micrology…~
Finally,
it was completed, although Imra turned the mirror
around to block the view from the door, so that no one would see her changing,
and probably moving stuff around trying to figure out where it was supposed to
go. The leathery bits ended up just
covering her, in the fashion of a bathing suit designed to optimize exposure to
solar radiation. And there were shoulder
pads, which seemed somewhat unnecessary, since half of her butt was hanging
out. Perhaps she could attach them back
there? Nope, they seem to be necessary
as attachment points for the cape.
Perhaps some sort of butt-cape?
No, that doesn’t work either. The
warm golden Titanian metal flowed smoothy
around wrists and waist and neck.
Slender snaking tubes worked their way under her arms and connected to
the various leathery segments, even serving as very, um, ‘supportive’
structures that she found to be rather liberating, as without them any sort of
movement led to more, um, ‘movement’ than she was entirely comfortable with. It felt kind of like warm hands cupping her…,
and rigid psychic discipline ended that train of thought.
The golden
metal also snaked around the upper portions of her legs, and she found it
somewhat ironic that the metallic ‘jewelry’ ended up covering more surface area
than the actual cloth costume elements.
The boots were, what a shock, dark green leather, and brushing her hands
across the leather, she was surprised to feel fine scales. Apparently it was designed to feel like
reptilian hide. Unless, hideous thought,
it was *actual* animal hide… Holding the
offending item at arms length and scanning the inner tags and labels, she was
comforted to see those happy words, ‘genuine synthetic.’
Finally,
the last of the metallic ornamentation attached to her brow, with a lovely
smooth green emerald center-set and she was done, the box was empty, and she’d
never felt so naked, without actually *being* naked.
She
whirled the translucent fabric of her cloak around herself, and, as expected,
it concealed exactly nothing. ~Wonderful. Let’s get this over with.~
Imra
trudged resolutely towards her fate.
**************************************************************
The alarm
went off again and Garth looked up at it bleary-eyed. He remembered that the Queen wanted them
together for some sort of official ceremony in ten minutes, so he might as well
get up and get ready.
Oh, that
‘Champion’s Garb’ showed up. Cool. Ripping open the box, Garth pulled out a
skintight bodysuit in a shade of green so dark that it looked black at
first. The gloves and boots were yellow,
and golden lightning bolts traveled down the sides of the arms and legs, while
a larger white lightning bolt ran directly down the center of the suit. Metallic golden bracers, belt and some sort
of leg cuff things accompanied the outfit.
‘Neat.’
Pulling
it on, Garth quickly ran his fingers through his hair, grinned at his reflection
and and dashed out the door.
******************************************************************
Imra
stood self-consciously in front of the Emerald Throne, arms-crossed and
attempting to hide herself under her useless transparent cloak, while Rokk kept smirking and stealing admiring glances. Curse him, he’s practically wearing a suit of
armor and I look like a Jazerri dancing girl, only
not as pretty…
~Where’s
Garth? I hope he hasn’t changed his
mind! Great Thinker,
what if he’s left and gone back to Winath…~
“You worry
too much.” Rokk says, turning away, “I’ll go get
him.”
He walks
away quickly, before Imra can formulate a response,
leaving her standing in front of the Queen, who is absently reading a datapad.
~Um, your
majesty?~
Sarya
looks up with a patient smile. “Yes,
child?”
~Is there
any chance that there might a Champion’s Garb that has a little more, um…~
floundering, she pirouettes around, showing her dilemma, ~well, just
*more.* Maybe something mysterious and
regal, with flowing all-concealing robes?~
“Certainly
not, dear. A Champion does not represent concealment or
deception, she represents truth and honorable intent. If you are to be a Champion, you will have nothing
to hide, no secret shame, nor display anything but pride in self. You are a beautiful young woman, and while I
understand that it is Titanian tradition to conceal
the material body in many layers of cloth, to admire and revere only the mind
and not sully one’s thoughts with concerns over the disposition of the flesh,
you are not on Titan. In this building,
you stand among the traditions of Venegar, and as
Venegarian tradition is prepared to honor you, I require you
to similarly respect those traditions.”
“Did
you have any other questions, dear?”
Sarya finishes, looking back at her datapad,
and Imra received the implicit message that this conversation
was over.
*****************************************************************
Rokk
stepped into the hallway that led to the quarters, and Garth came jogging into
view immediately, somewhat out of breath.
“Hey, I’m
not late am I? I thought it didn’t start
for another couple minutes…”
“No,
you’re not late.” Rokk said curtly, before putting
his arm on Garth’s shoulder. “Look,
Garth, I’m only saying this as a friend.
If you’re going to jog in that thing, for the love of iron, put some
underwear on…”
“Uh. Okay.” Garth grew uncharacteristically silent
as they walked down the corridor to the Queen’s throne room. “Look, Rokk. I just wanted to say, y’know,
just before anything gets weird…”
“What.”
“I like
girls. I mean you’re cool and all, and I don’t have any problem with that sort of thing,
and I like you, but I don’t *like you,* like you…”
“Garth?”
“I mean I
hope we can be friends…”
“Garth!”
“Yeah...”
“Shut the sprock up.”
*****************************************************************
Ah, her
Champions all assembled.
“Never
before has a Champion of Venegar been from any world other than Venegar. By choosing you three for this honor, I break
with centuries of tradition, and so cast the lot of Venegar
with the United Planets, in hopes of creating *new* traditions, for a new
day!”
“For
it is not the blood that flows in one’s body that makes a Champion.
Since the earliest days, Champions have come from those of noble blood,
and from those of common stock, for it is the *spirit* of a Champion that
is recognized by Regent. Heroes are
not born, they are made, forged in fire and adversity, and you three have
shown the fire that reveals to all doubters that heroes are not just from
Venegar. They can come too from Braal,
and from Titan, and from Winath. Whether you choose this day to stand at my side
as Champions or not, you *are* heroes, and no honor I could bestow could change
this simple truth. I only acknowledge
what already will be made known to all, that we stand
in the presence of noble spirits, deserving recognition.”
“Stand
forth Imra Ardeen, if you would be Champion, but be honored no matter
your choice.”
Allowing
her flimsy cape to fall back past her shoulders, no longer attempting to
conceal her body from sight, Imra walks forward and
bows her head, placing her hand forward, palm-side up.
~I would
be honored to serve as your Champion, my Queen.~
Sarya
smiles, and passes her hand in front of her crown. A green glow comes from behind her hand, and
when she turns it around, the round emerald that sat in the center of the crown
has somehow separated itself from it’s golden setting,
and now floats before her hand. Lowering
her hand, the emerald orb now floats before Imra’s
widened eyes, and swells before her until it is the size of a man’s head. Inside of the spherical stone, a great star
can be seen twinkling and Imra can hear voices of
encouragement, as if from far away.
“You
see now the Eye of Ekron, the stone of succession
and chooser of the Rulers of Venegar. As the stone chose me to bear it through this
lifetime, so shall it now ascertain your worth to serve as Champion. Every King and Queen of Venegar
will see your face, and know your heart, but have no fear, for I already know
their verdict.”
“Place
your hand upon the stone.”
Without
question, Imra does this, and feels a warmth course
through her. From the surface of the
stone, the crystal seems to bulge beneath her hand, and before her eyes, two
tendrils of emerald extend from beneath her hand, and unite over her ring
finger, merging into a seamless whole.
With a painless surge of pressure, her hand is pushed from the surface
of the stone, and she now bears a band of solid emerald.
“You
carry now the Champion’s Ring. May it serve you body and soul, as you serve
the cause of truth, body and soul.”
“You
may now stand down, Champion Imra Ardeen.”
The
process repeats with the remaining Champions, and Sarya
completes the ceremony, dismissing the monitors and delegates who had stood in
the galleries watching the proceedings.
“I
understand that you have not grown up learning the lore of the Champions,
and that some explanations are in order. Please
be seated.”
The three
Champions look around, but no seats are in evidence. Garth plops down on the ground, and after
looking to see that the Queen seems to accept this without comment, Imra and Rokk also seat themselves.
“The
Champion’s Rings are composed of the same stone as the Eye of Ekron,” the Queen says, said stone reducing in size
and returning to it’s setting in her crown.
“It has been a part of the ruling family since
as long as there has been a ruling family, and it touches the souls of all
who have born it. I can feel the encouraging presence of my parents,
and their parents, and many others I have never met in this lifetime, Kings
and
Firstly,
you will hear my thoughts, if I wish it, even from across the universe, and
in time, you will learn to communicate with each other…
This
is awesome, can you hear me, Imra?
It’s like your telepathy! Hey,
Rokk, how about you, is this working for you?
“Or
perhaps you will master it far in advance of my expectations,” the
Queen adds dryly, with a glance at Garth.
She’s
so hot when she gets all Queen-y. Oh Great Harvest, how do you turn this off!
Rokk
reaches over and snatches the Ring from Garth’s finger and places it in his
hand. “Down boy.”
“Ahem.
Thank you, Champion Krinn.” Sarya quickly proceeds, “As
the Ring entwines within your soul, to allow communication, so too does it
enjoin with your physical self, and, traditionally,” with a glare at
Garth, “this also takes some time.” Garth is still studiously examining his left
foot, which has apparently become endlessly fascinating, holding his Champion’s
Ring in his hand and glaring at it.
“You
will find that the Ring sustains your physical state, such that you will find
yourself in less need of sustenance, and even able to withstand extremes of
temperature, pressure or deprivation of oxygen.
The effect is limited. You will not be able to enter a raging inferno,
but you will find that no matter the amount of cloth covering your form,”
she smiles at Imra, “your
body will not feel a chill, and you may indeed be able to hold your breath
for hours, depending on the strength of your lungs.”
“Will we
be able to fly?”
~What?~
“Fly!?!”
“Yes
indeed Champion Krinn. I see that you have been reading up on the subject.”
“’On Emerald Wings,’ according to the poem.”
"Exactly
so. As you have seen, the Eye of Ekron
is able to levitate itself, and defy the forces of gravity. This Rings will enable you to do the same, and
normally I would caution that this also takes time and training, but somehow
I would not be surprised for you to again defy expectations in this matter.”
Garth had
already slipped his Ring back on, while studiously avoiding looking at the
Queen, and was sort of hopping in place.
Imra
simply raised her hand as if pointing towards the ceiling, and slowly
majestically rose towards the ceiling.
“Hey! How are you doing that?”
“And
now my Champions, it is time for you to take these new gifts and practice
them outside of my Throne Room.”
~Yes, my
Queen.~
“By your leave, Highness.”
“Yes, ma’am!”
***************************************************************
Outside Imra floats imperiously a few meters above Garth, who
bounds into the air laughing as she spun just out of his reach.
“How come
you can do this!
I trained to be a pilot, I should be the one
flying around already! And how come I
got the communication thing first, you should have gotten that…”
“She’s Titanian, Garth. A born telepath. The
rings aren’t using telepathy, so she’s having to learn
a new language. Trust me,
she’ll be better than both of us once she finds the frequency…”
“But what about the flying? This is
unfair! Come down here, you tease!”
~Ha ha, I
don’t think so. You’ll figure it out if
you want it bad enough. I’ve been flying
since I was a girl, in my mind. It’s
just another astral dream to me, only this time, I get to take my body with me
and not leave it sleeping in bed.~ Imra is whirling
through the air, gauzy cloak swirling about her, reveling in her new freedom.
Finally,
Garth manages to catch her ankle, and looking down, he’s now hovering a meter
off the ground as well. She gently
pushes him off while he’s distracted and he quickly stabilizes and swoops
around her, arms wheeling madly as he swoops through the air in great arcs.
“I’m
flying! I got it! You have to try this Rokk, it’s not hard at all!”
Rokk
just crouches and uses his magnetic powers to hurl himself into the air like a
rocket, his particular specialty from the magno-ball
courts, and then uses his powers to stabilize himself.
“Whoah!”
~He’s
cheating and using his own powers. He
hasn’t even started to use the Ring yet…~
“What’s
cheating? I’ll figure it out, and then
I’ll be faster than both of you…”
“Wanna bet. Hey,
there’s the metro-dome. I bet I’ll get
there first…”
~Not a
chance, Garth. ReadySetGo!~
“Hey!! Cheaters!
I'll get you for this!”