The Glass Empires: Adventures of Doron the Snake Keeper: The Glass Empires, #2

By S. C. Coleman

It is the eve of the ceremonial signing of the Treaty of Molina, a pact signed by all the nations of the Greater Continent. The Treaty has maintained a shaky peace among the nations, but storm clouds gather on the horizon. While the Age of a Hundred kings has all but past into myth, the scars of the Great Period of Shadow stand as a monolith to a forgotten age. The greed of men shall never be sated. The dark forces, that once ravaged the continent, now threaten to engulf its inhabitants once more. Four champions stake their claims upon this world, but which will choose between selfish greed and a greater good for all. This story follows our second hero, a merchant from the southern lands, Doron Snake Keeper. He is the Speaker for the united tribes of the southern region. While playing games of political intrigue, Doron stumbles into an unforeseen nest of vipers. He finds himself thrust into a scheme of epic proportions. Will he prevail, or be devoured completely? The Treaty of Molina, likely to be signed once more, will usher in a new age of prosperity, scheming lords and officials sharpen their knives. Rather than peace, war appears imminent.

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: S. C. Coleman
• Release date: Apr 11, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393403371

Book preview

Summary:

It is the eve of the ceremonial signing of the Treaty of Molina, a pact signed by all the nations of the Greater Continent. The Treaty has maintained a shaky peace among the nations, but storm clouds gather on the horizon. While the Age of a Hundred kings has all but past into myth, the scars of the Great Period of Shadow stand as a monolith to a forgotten age. The greed of men shall never be sated. The dark forces, that once ravaged the continent, now threaten to engulf its inhabitants once more. Four champions stake their claims upon this world, but which will choose between selfish greed and a greater good for all. This story follows our second hero, a merchant from the southern lands, Doron Snake Keeper. He is the Speaker for the united tribes of the southern region. While playing games of political intrigue, Doron stumbles into an unforeseen nest of vipers. He finds himself thrust into a scheme of epic proportions. Will he prevail, or be devoured completely? The Treaty of Molina, likely to be signed once more, will usher in a new age of prosperity, scheming lords and officials sharpen their knives. Rather than peace, war appears imminent.

To my fellow kingdoms, we gather in my halls of this great city of Molina to bring an end to this discourse that has torn our beloved land apart. Let this treaty, our signatures affixed, stand in protection of our realms; that our subjects might live in peace, that we may replace dread with hope, and our dead with children. Thus, I decree, Nicolo of the Rose Flower, King on the Mountain, Champion of the Waste, and Red Skeleton of the Shadow, that every autumn this treaty shall be renewed, with an accompanying feast.

-The Treaty of Molina, Signed beneath the last moon of the Age of a Hundred Kings and the Great Period of Shadow

Chapter One

The Circus Arrives

Princess Illonia, the youngest of the Karolinda sisters, loved to watch the sunrise every morning. At the same time each day, her pale countenance could be found at the top of the western tower. The western tower overlooked the Scale Road that led up the mountain, and into the great city fortress of Molina. Illonia the Third’s grey eyes matched the overcast color of the sky. Her eyes were considerably different than those of her older sisters, which retained a darker hue. In fact, her older sisters were often called the Iron Women, for the color of their eyes. On the other hand, General Farenda was more often referred to as the Iron Bitch, rather than woman. Although, none dared to say that name to the General’s face. Different than her sisters, Illonia was the only one referred to as the faire silver princess. Despite being loved by the people, Illonia barely loved anything. Although, she did love the sunrise. This morning, Illonia was wearing a scarlet dress, embroidered with many little golden skeletons. The dress was heavily padded against the cold, and the sleeves were turned up to show a wool lining, dyed black. Her lovely, and recently combed, black hair fell past her waist. Her hair, blowing around her slender figure like a shoal, would momentarily cover her grief-stricken face. She would wear a blank face around others. When she was alone, her features would betray her true feelings. However, at this time she wore a saddened smile, with her ruby colored lips slightly turned up at the corners. The sun was rising over the mountain’s face and cast its beams upon the cobbled Scale Road far below. The sky had turned from an overcast grey to a pale violet, and tears began to form in Princess Illonia’s eyes, as she watched the landscape changing color.

The princess shuddered, as she suddenly felt eyes upon her. Like a frightened deer, her head snapped to her left, only to see a young guardsman standing there. The guardsman’s ice blue eyes and hers met. They held a petrified stare for a few moments. With neither brave enough to move their eyes away from one another, only a strong gust of wind broke the spell. In response, the guardsman recomposed himself and bowed to the princess. In bowing, the guardsman had to readjust the long-gun on his shoulder. This movement struck the princess as odd, since the Molinese soldiers never bowed. However, she was so shocked, herself, that she did not pay it much thought. This guardsman wore the flat grey and brownish red uniform of the Molinese Mountain Hawks. These Mountain Hawks heralded not from the city of Molina, but a small mountain village close by. Not being from the city, these warriors were considered country folk, but also respected as brave fighters. This legion of Molinese sharpshooters were well-known across the Greater Continent, for their deadly accuracy. This guardsman, who was a Mountain Hawk, was rather slender and short. He was not much taller than the princess, and his demeanor did not match that of a confident soldier. In fact, he carried himself more like a sophisticated court attendant, rather than a guardsman. Furthermore, the Mountain Hawks did not usually guard the walls of Molina. These thoughts all quickly passed through the princess’s head, as rapidly as the breath that escaped between her nervous lips.

Good Morning, Soldier of the Skeleton. Princess Illonia composed herself, and spoke with a special dignity. Even as she surveyed the clean-shaven young man’s pale features, the brisk morning air turned his lips a slight purplish color, and the rising sun cast a pale bronze hue over his ivory flesh.

Good Morning, Princess, the guard bowed again, Pardon me, for I am just upon my rounds.

Very well, carry on. Princess Illonia gave a slight curtsey, as the young guardsman shuffled quickly past her. The princess returned to watching the sunrise, but the image of the guardsman would not leave her, neither would the warm feeling that passed through her body at his presence. However, something about the young man made her feel a deep foreboding. Who was he? She wondered, while staring at the sparse clouds, just beyond the mountain face. Suddenly, something else caught her eye. A flash of light winked up at her from the Scale Road below. There, she noticed a long caravan coming up the road. The flash of light must have been a glint off the armor that the caravan guards wore. She recognized a few of the sigils on the caravan’s banners and called out for the guard to return. She hurried over to the spiral staircase, but he seemed to have vanished, as if he had just been a phantom of her mind. She returned to the cutout in the stone wall of the tower and watched the party making their way up the steep road. Further down the caravan line were camels, heavily laden with packages, but closer to the front was a group of heavily armored riders on horseback. Following close behind these riders was a column of footmen, and all bore the markings of tribesmen from the deserts to the south. The most important of the riders was a face she recognized, riding in the vanguard. The speaker of the Tribes, Doron Snake Keeper, as he was commonly called, wore his usual multi-colored robes, with highlights of gold in the stitching. His heavy set figured embodied every idea of wealth and indulgence. Flanking the delegate from the tribes was an ominous looking woman, and a man that displayed the look of priest from the Zoran Order.

IN THE GREAT HALL OF Molina, the caravan from the Tribes waited. The Queen Regent, Illylia the Third, had instructed her court priest to greet the visitors, which was an unexpected turn of events, as it was not the custom. The priest, clothed in the dark scarlet robes of the Order of Populla, stood at the base of the throne stairs, with his hands clasped in front of his pelvis. Up the stairs, three chairs rested, with the central one being slightly elevated from the other two. The three chairs had been carved out of silver, with velvet lining, and a skull had been etched into the back of the central chair. The skull had two large rubies for eyes, and the arms of the chair were formed into skeleton arms. This center chair was fashioned to give the appearance of being embraced by a silver skeleton, the symbol of House Karolinda, and the current Molinese Kingdom. Guards of House Karolinda flanked the ten pillars that lined the sides of the rectangular throne room. These court guards wore the black and red uniforms of the Molinese Red Skeletons. The skeleton warriors were the most elite of the Molinese infantry. They wore tall black hats with a red plum at the peak. The hats formed a conical shape, with a short visor and a white skull embroidered in the center. Their faces were like solid rock, showing no emotion. Their hats gave them an extra foot, which only added to their tall and imposing demeanor. However, the dark and foreboding atmosphere of the Molinese court little affected the representatives from the southern tribes. There were three people that presented themselves to the court. In front of the other two, Doron Snake Keeper stood, the Speaker of the Tribes. His multi-colored robes, golden highlights reflected the flickering torch light, cast small dancing light beams through the hazy courtroom. His robes alone seemed to give a comical tone, to the otherwise oppressive atmosphere of the room. However, behind the Snake Keeper, a woman stood. She seemed to counter-balance the wealthy man’s joyous clothing. Standing like a tall sentinel, long jet-black hair fell just past her shoulders. Her long tunic, falling just below her knees, was made of a heavy cloth and colored in dark blue, with a dusting of tiny white crescent moons. She stood like the priest of Populla, with her hands clasped in front of her crotch. Sleeves falling just short of the coat underneath, the barely visible iron rings of her mail tunic cast a faint reflection off the torch light. Her boots were made of a thick leather, with the toes turned up into a metal point. At her waist hung a long saber, attached to a black leather sword belt. The saber was housed in a curved black leather scabbard, also dusted with white crescent moons. Furthermore, the sword belt also had three