Fawcetta: Voices and Echoes of the Coliseum Volume I

By Dalian Artanian

They say dreams are for those who feel the need to be a part of something bigger. They say fantasies exist in the minds of those who are free spirited. They say illusion is what every man carries through his life until death opens his eyes.

Everyone feels the need to get away from their own lives where predictability and monotony threaten to crush their spirits. They long to escape to a place where life keeps them on their toes and the risk of losing everything is always just around the corner.

This story, which has been buried and forgotten in the waters and sands of time, has no boundaries, no safe havens. Fawcetta is a world of mystery, drama, deceit, romance, and is filled with action and adventure. The emperor of Fawcetta struggles to hold not only his empire together, but also his family. No one suspects they are being purposefully manipulated and deceived by one power-hungry man. Anger divides children from parents, loss and betrayal spurring vengeance and hatred. The fat of the once peaceful paradise is placed in the hands of a young Guardian named Kaina. She must find a way to find her soul-mate in order to open the one gate that will save their beloved planet from falling into total darkness. Othewise, Fawcettas days are numbered.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Aug 10, 2009
• ISBN: 9781449013219

Dalian Artanian

Dalian Artanian was born in Midland Texas in 1969. He was raised by his grandmother, Julia, and lived in many small country towns on the plains of Texas. Dalian read many fantasy books in his free time and enjoyed science fiction movies that took him to worlds he’d never imagined existed. At an early age, Dalian decided to become a fantasy writer, wanting to take people out of their everyday lives and into new and exciting places. Dalian began writing short stories and took many creative writing classes in order to enhance his writing skills. In the summer of 1999, Dalian fulfilled one of many dreams by meeting his mentor, the director Oliver Stone.Dalian auditioned with him and received a small part as an obnoxious fan in the movie, ‘Any Given Sunday.’ This pushed the author even more toward wanting to achieve his greatest dream: Giving readers new nad fresh stories and taking them on fantastic journeys and adventures. Dalian hopes to one day be able to direct a full length film. Dalian Artanian currently lives in San Jose, California.

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© 2012 Dalian Artanian. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 1/10/2012

ISBN: 978-1-4490-1321-9 (e)

ISBN: 978-1-4490-1320-2 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4490-3201-2 (hc)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2009907728

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

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Chapter 1

Waves of Imbalance

Low, gray winter clouds hung over high mountains like a dingy blanket over a dirty, old couch. A cool morning breeze carried the soft sounds of nature through the valley trees. Stillness permeated the morning even with the gently flowing river nearby.

Without warning, the tranquility was broken by the crash of breaking twigs and thrashing brush. Try and keep up! cried a girl’s voice.

A young princess named Nerysta tore her way through the heavy underbrush on the tail of a sematar. The animal’s four powerful legs thrust as it dodged quickly around trees, over bushes, and through murky puddles, its tail streaming out behind it. The rust-brown wings were securely tied to its sides so that it wouldn’t ruin the game by flying away.

Nerysta would have fallen behind quickly if her legs weren’t so long and well-muscled from hours and hours of playing this game. All the training she shared with her brother and best friend had honed her body to a beautifully-sculpted fighting machine.

The woman noticed the sematar in front of her beginning to turn. Cutting across the wooded path, she took the beast by surprise. One quick leap carried her gracefully over the head of the fleeing sematar. Its blue collar came off in her hand without a snag.

That’s two! I’ve only got one to go! she yelled into the forest at the top of her lungs.

A burst of brown shot at her from the trees, making her dive to the ground to get her head out of the way of the leaping creature.

That’s not fair! Nerysta cried as her big brother hopped off the back of the newly arrived sematar. The Princess stood indignantly, wiping at the dust clinging thickly to her knees.

What’s not fair, little sister? We never agreed how we would track the beasts, now, did we? The handsome Prince laughed even as Nerysta spotted only one red collar on his belt. The body of a god and the genius of a war General apparently hadn’t helped him find his sematars.

Nerysta playfully pushed her brother out of the way as she headed back into the trees. You always find a way around the rules, Denucian. It’s funny how infrequently it helps you win.

Denucian launched himself at the dark-haired woman, tackling her to the ground. Nerysta, used to her brother’s rough-housing, quickly maneuvered her body through the moves her mother had drilled into her head and had the Prince pinned to the ground in less than a minute.

What? Denucian laughed when he saw her still scowling. Did we make a rule against getting a ride? From a sematar, I mean? He’d added that last part because they had made a rule against getting rides from sky-cycles a year ago after Denucian had won a game doing that.

Nerysta let her brother off the forest floor and, without brushing herself off this time (mostly because she knew that it would get into her brother’s nerves), walked to the sematar that had borne her brother into the clearing. Poor baby. Did this animal hurt you? she asked as she gently pet the feline’s nose.

Denucian, as heir to the entire planet Fawcetta, was much more image-conscious and perhaps a little vain. He brushed off his black riding pants and his dark copper jacket, straightened his pristine white undershirt, and scraped the dirt off his shiny black boots before taking the time to answer the insult. He carefully scanned Nerysta head to toe — leaves, sticks, dirt, and all. Who are you calling an animal?

You’re the only one around, big brother. I think you can figure it out.

Ha ha ha. Funny, Denucian answered sarcastically.

I must have missed it, called another feminine voice from behind the redwood trees. A petite, blond woman stepped confidently through the forest debris to join her friends in the clearing. Is Denucian changing the rules of the game again? she asked, eyeing the sematar.

Nerysta crossed her arms, confident of the coming amusement, now that the girls outnumbered the boys. Yes, like he always does, Kaina. She threw her arms in the air with mock exasperation. When will we ever see the day that Denucian plays fair?

I do play fair. It’s just that you ladies can’t handle a little competition. Denucian sauntered to his sematar and hefted himself onto its back gracefully. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a game to win.

Kaina held up a delicate hand to keep him from rushing off. She walked casually up to the Prince’s mount and tossed three orange collars to him.

No way! How did you get all three already? Denucian cried.

His sister smiled from ear to ear. What’s wrong, brother? she asked in mock sympathy. Did you think you were going to win this game? What, in all the years that we’ve been playing, made you think that?

Denucian, ignoring his sister’s jibes, jumped nimbly from his sematar’s back and strode to Kaina. I still think you should marry me, Denucian said, taking both of her hands in his. We are so much alike, after all. He smiled his best ‘charming prince’ smile at her.

Both of them ignored Nerysta’s snort. I can only marry my soulmate. It’s an Artyrian rule, and you know it, Kaina answered. She smiled to take any sting out of the words. The young man had in fact asked her quite seriously to marry him twice a year since he had turned twenty-two.

Nerysta apparently felt no such need to be diplomatic. She laughed loudly. Denucian finally turned to acknowledge her. Nerysta shrugged and said, What? Sorry to say, you know she’s right. It’s the rule.

Denucian smirked, Well, as you say sister, I have a way of changing the rules.

The two women just looked at each other and laughed.

At the palace in Adorya, capital of Fawcetta, Kalzein had just finished speaking to one of the palace guards when the General of the Artyrians, Arkanon, approached him.

Kalzein, Emperor since the young age of 30, stood six feet and some inches with light brown hair. His deep hazel eyes showed only the slightest bit of weariness but were still more than capable of stopping the self-serving politicians in their creepy little tracks.

I have the new plans for the Gates of the Penakod, sir, his General announced, handing over a square glass digital pad.

Kalzein carried it to a white marble table, carved just as ornately as the rest of the palace, where he laid the glass digital pad over the surface to have a look. Light from the huge window directly in front of the table spilled goldenly into the room. How long will it take to complete the Gates? asked the Emperor as he carefully studied the drawings.

It shouldn’t take no more than a month or so, Arkanon answered in his rough eastern-Adorian dialect.

There have been rumors of someone with ambition enough to try opening the Gates of the Penakod, Kalzein said gravely. His stomach tied itself in knots, a familiar sensation. The Emperor felt nearly nauseous every time he thought of the possibility of some ignorant fool opening the Gates incorrectly.

Unable to stay in one place with such a horrible possibility pushing its way into his mind, Kalzein turned away from the table with the digital pad and walked across the room and down a short flight of liquidous steel stairs. Arkanon walked with his Emperor, trying not to be offended by his liege’s worry that the he would not, or could not, perform his duty.

I’m sure they’re only rumors, Arkanon said. Your guards have kept a watchful eye on the Gates.

Still, we shouldn’t take any chances. You know what will happen if those Gates are opened in the wrong order. The Emperor turned to his General to make sure the direness of the situation was sinking in.

The man wasn’t even looking at him. Soft footsteps coming up the stairs had distracted him.

Do you understand what I have just said, Arkanon? asked the Emperor, grabbing his General’s arm to make sure all of his subordinate’s attention was on him.

Yes, Sir. Sorry, Sir. Yes, I agree we should still be cautious. The hand on his arm had not quite taken all of the man’s concentration off the sound of little feet coming his way.

Around the corner came Nerysta, wearing a soft-looking bodice that really emphasized more than it covered. Her skirt brushed the floor but the whole front part had been left open in the latest style. It swirled around the Princess’ shapely and lace-covered legs. Arkanon’s eyes widened appreciatively at the sight of her.

Good morning, father. How are you? she asked as she approached.

Bemused, Kalzein smiled when he realized that even the brutal and complete destruction of the world would not hold the General’s attention if Nerysta was in the room. He sighed, feeling a little defeated but proud that his daughter commanded such attention even before the title of Empress was bestowed upon her.

I’m doing well, darling. The Emperor embraced his daughter in a tight hug. I’ve been unable to find your brother, though. Might you know where he is? I need to speak with him.

I’m not actually sure, Nerysta answered. Her eyes had already turned to the General. Hello, Arkanon. How are you today? she asked, turning her hips just a little to emphasize her generous curves.

I’m good, he spat out a little too quickly. I was just going over the new plans with your father. Arkanon looked her over discreetly before adding, You look nice today.

Yes, Kalzein interrupted dryly. We’ll have to get back to that subject of life and death importance, Arkanon, when you are able to think with the right head again.

Really? Nerysta asked, not taking her eyes off the General. I hadn’t realized my presence would be so…provocative. The tall man ducked his head in castigated acknowledgement.

It’s ok, Arkanon. Kalzein clapped his General on the back. I’ll let it go this time. Go start on the new Gates.

Then the new designs are approved? Arkanon confirmed.

Of course.

Arkanon bowed to his Emperor. Before leaving, however, he seemed unable to resist turning to the Princess and bowing to her too. Excuse me, my lady, but I have to get going now.

Nerysta winked at the General, and suddenly he had trouble remembering how to walk, tripping over his own feet before making it out the door. The Princess broke into laughter.

Nerysta, be nice, her father admonished.

But I’m not being mean! pouted the young woman. It’s not my fault the man is clumsy.

Deciding to ignore the matter for the time being, Kalzein crossed the echoing room to a granite table that had been polished to a bright sheen. He picked up the pitcher made of the same stone and poured water into two of the four matching cups waiting on the serving tray. Taking them both, the Emperor handed one to his daughter and took a sip out of his own.

So where is your brother?

Nerysta smiled over her father’s shoulder at something he couldn’t see. I’m right here, father, Denucian’s baritone voice rang behind him. Kalzein turned, smiling at his only son.

Thirsty? The Emperor offered his cup of water to Denucian as he strode by to stand next to his sister. The boy often sought to be near his sibling. Growing up, his kids had squabbled and bickered like normal children, but the last couple of months, he had seen them grow together with an unmistakable bond of camaraderie. Perhaps all brothers and sisters put away their childish differences as they grew up.

Thank you, father. How can I be of service? Denucian sipped his water.

I need you to go to Xonaz and help your Uncle Alakhi with the building of the fortress, Kalzein replied to his son, getting right down to business. Denucian had never appreciated small talk or pleasantries before coming to the point, which was why he had so little patience for the politicians in his father’s court.

I thought by now he’d be done with it, Denucian answered critically. He’s been building that fortress for months now.

That is why I need you to oversee the project, the tall monarch replied patiently. The architects had predicted completion of the structure within eight months. It had now been ten, and the project was horribly over budget with still no definite completion date set. I trust your uncle, but at times he needs a little encouragement.

Nerysta, who had always liked Uncle Alakhi and hated to be left out of any subject, jumped into the conversation. Don’t be so hard on uncle. He has worked so hard the whole time he’s been overseeing your fortress.

Father said it’s just a little encouragement he needs, Denucian answered in a soothing tone. Don’t worry about it, little sister.

Well at least you won’t be able to cheat at this challenge, Nerysta shot back a little defensively.

Cheat? What do you mean, cheat? Of course her brother acted the wounded innocent in front of their father. He always played for an audience — even one who knew him well enough not to be fooled for one moment by the play acting.

Don’t pretend ignorance, brother. You know exactly what I’m talking about. The Princess backhanded his shoulder playfully.

Aw! Denucian backed away from her, feigning injury, but really just heading toward a chair so he could sit down. It’s not cheating, dear sister. I call it ‘exploiting heretofore un-thought of strategies and/or ideas in order to win.’

Sounds fair to me, Kalzein remarked.

Nerysta spluttered over a sip she had been taking while listening to her brother’s excuses. Dad? What? Don’t tell me you think it’s ok that he cheats at every game we play!

Kalzein laughed at the indignant, righteous, disbelieving, suspicious look on his daughter’s face. Nerysta, I have taught both of you the rules of life and some of the best places to bend them. There are always ways to win even when it seems like there is no hope. Sometimes you just have to be a little inventive.

Nerysta ducked her head, not sure if she agreed that bending the rules to win applied to games as well as life, but she was unwilling to argue the point with her father.

Don’t be sad, the Emperor chuckled. He opened his arms and embraced his daughter warmly. I want both my children to learn that when dealing with life or anything which puts you in a situation where you feel winning isn’t possible, that there are other ways of looking at and dealing with the situation that your opponents may not anticipate or think is ‘fair.’ You will know how to find a way out of sticky situations if you practice seeing these alternate possibilities.

I understand, father. Nerysta smiled up at Kalzein. I will never forget what you have taught us.

A gentle whooshing of skirts announced the entrance of Nikira, Denucian and Nerysta’s mother. Are we having a family meeting? she asked in her silky voice.

Tactic lessons, actually, Kalzein answered her fondly.

Oh my. The beautiful Empress slipped under her husband’s arm, into a comfortable side embrace. What tactics do they need to learn in this time of peace? We haven’t had a war or even the threat of one in centuries. She affectionately pecked her Emperor’s cheek, leaving a small smear of lipstick which she quickly wiped off for him.

You know of the prophecy that foretells of the great evil which will swallow all love in the world and leave it a barren and desolate place, he answered, smiling down at her.

Myths and legends. Our children should be learning how to love and build a brighter future, even if only to be sure this ‘evil’ doesn’t come to pass, Nikira countered.

Denucian and Nerysta, both left out of this little conversation between their parents, looked at each other in confusion. Even this gentle of a disagreement was rare between the Emperor and his wife. The offspring never had to choose between their parents’ views before.

Kalzein didn’t really notice their discomfort, unable to tear his eyes away from his elegant, lovely spouse. She had creamy, pale skin unmarred by the passing of centuries. Her arresting green eyes were emphasized subtly by the black paint she used around their rims. Her dress modestly covered almost all of her skin but clung in all the right places to her shapely figure. He lost track of time being this near to his Nikira. The quiet around him finally dragged the Emperor from his admiration long enough to see his children’s state of agitation. He cleared his throat, buying just a little time to think of how to fix this tiny oversight. You are right, my dear wife. We should be focusing on the good things in life.

Nikira smiled at her husband, knowing exactly what was behind this change of heart. Always listen to your father, she said to her children. Listen to whatever he teaches you. He only wants the best for both of you.

Feeling infinitely better, now that things were back to normal, Nerysta danced over to her mother and kissed her cheek. Thank you, mum.

Denucian smiled and had started out of the room when his father asked, Where are you going, son?

I’m going to help uncle, father.

Kalzein chuckled. Never a wasted moment in your whole life, the Emperor commented. Will you tell your uncle when you see him that I would like a word with him? Send him down once you’re acquainted with the day to day hassles of building.

The Prince gave his father a ‘thumbs up’ sign saying, Yes, sir! before disappearing though the door.

The valley of Xonaz was a mix of deserts, tall trees, and lakes with sandy beaches. The natural beauty had been unmarred for hundreds of years only because it was so far from the hubs of civilization. Nothing interrupted the bird calls, the flowing streams, and the unhurried walk of the gentile four-legged animals called Felts. Xonaz is a great place to visit, but I wouldn’t want to live here, thought Denucian. There is just so much vegetation and not enough anything else. Of course, all that was changing.

Soaring above the trees rose a magnificent palace of shining gray, liquidous steel. The sun caressed its graceful curves and feminine turrets as if happy that something beautiful had finally broken the monotony of wilderness. Fanciful topiary and gleaming statues had already been sprinkled liberally on the grounds surrounding the sprawling main structure, inviting the eye and the feet to explore and wander. Hundreds of men in their hovering platforms zipped around the magnificent structure like bees scurrying to finish their Emperor’s project.

Denucian took it all in as his personal sky-cycle approached the building site. Organized chaos. Civilization in the middle of wilderness. A piece of man-made beauty in a natural paradise.

The Prince landed on top one of the eight completed towers. No one came to greet the Denucian. His visit had not been announced since it had been made on such short notice. He’d have to track down his uncle the old fashioned way; ask someone who looked like they knew what they were doing.

It turned out to be less difficult than Denucian had imagined it would be. As he took the sky-lift down to the ground floor of the palace, he spotted his uncle pointing and directing a group of men gathered around him and a couple floating screens with more men listening to him from different parts of the building site. Alakhi was gesturing broadly to his laborers, cape flaring behind him with each sweep of his silk-clad arms.

His uncle saw Denucian just as the sky-lift nearly reached the floor. After making a few final orders, he made his way through the mêlée of workers to greet his nephew.

Uncle! How are things coming along? Denucian asked as he pulled out of a warm hug with his relative.

Things are good! We only have the two grand spiral staircases and the paint to finish. Nerysta’s palace will be done before her birthday. Alakhi clapped his nephew on the back as he laughed. I want you to tell the Emperor how many winters and summers I’ve had to personally fight in order to get this masterpiece ready in time!

The two men laughed together and before long, the elder was pointing out some of the more intricate and impressive work done in the main hall for the younger man to appreciate.

It’s beautiful, uncle. She’ll love it, Denucian congratulated the man.

And she really would. Nerysta had always been a very independent person. Once when she had been three years old, the Princess had climbed into a sky-cycle all by herself in order to go to visit her friend Kaina. Being too little to operate the controls well had not stopped the spirited toddler from making it to the outer walls of the palace before her cycle was stopped by the peacekeepers for speeding, swerving, and not following the designated air-travel altitudes. Father had not known whether to berate Nerysta or give her flying lessons so that when the tiny princess felt the urge to fly herself somewhere again, she would be less likely to hurt herself doing it.

So even though the brunette teenager was just turning twenty this summer, her gift would be her own palace. Xonaz was far enough from their parents’ palace to give Nerysta freedom while close enough to make visits easy.

Come on guys! We have a deadline! Uncle Alakhi shouted, breaking into Denucian’s reverie. Don’t want our Princess getting a half-finished home for her birthday, now do we? he laughed to his nephew.

No, definitely not, Denucian answered. He glanced around to see if anyone was within hearing distance and lowered his voice before asking his next question, But do you have a minute to speak privately with me, uncle?

For my nephew? roared Alakhi, not quite grasping the prince’s new mood. Of course I have a minute! You there! he yelled at one of the men passing by, Tell the foreman that he’s in charge till I get back. With that, Alakhi looped his arm around his nephew’s shoulders and led him to a private, completed room a little way from the main foyer.

Ah, the Emperor’s older brother sighed as the heavy, liquidous steel door closed behind them, effectively shutting out all the noise Denucian had not realized was so loud until there was quiet. That’s better. Sometimes I think this project is going to make me deaf before I get to hear the thanks from your sister and parents. The older man slid gratefully into a plush chair near the fireplace even though no flames danced in it. Now, sit down and tell me what you wanted to speak to me about.

Denucian found a seat on a comfortable couch across from his uncle. He eyed the floor without really seeing the expensive rug, trying to choose his words carefully. Finally, taking a deep breath, the Prince asked, How does one become a leader?

Well that was quick, Alakhi thought. I wasn’t expecting this conversation for months, maybe a couple years. The wise man sat straighter before leaning in toward his prince,