Author Games: Dawn of Nameless Desires

Task Three Entries: Trokya

William Pernelle

Wyatt entered the ballroom and stopped in his tracks. Everything gleamed, from the intricate blue and silver tiles on the floor to the grand chandeliers practically dripping with diamonds. Magnificent glass windows made up most of the walls, each one glittering, each made of thousands upon thousands of tiny pieces placed just so. A full orchestra played at the side of the room, decorating the very air with wondrous symphonies.

The centerpiece was a single silver throne, set at the head of the room, its sides made of thin wire elaborately woven into interlocking knots, tiny sapphires occasionally intertwined within. Each piece touched a hundred others. Thanks to the knots, it was strong as well as simply beautiful. More than strong—powerful. It was powerful.

As was Queen Clemathia.

He caught her eye for the briefest moment, and her eyes glinted. Was that surprise? The elf Godchosen pulled him down, and he fell to his knees on the hard tile, bowing deeply.

Seconds ticked by. Then the queen's voice came to him as if through a fog. "Rise." And he rose.

~~~

"I'm telling you, it must be money." The noblewoman—Sesa, she'd said—shot a thin-lipped glare in Wyatt's direction. The ball had officially begun, and it was clear from her longing glances she'd rather be anywhere but stuck with the three of them at the side of the room. "I daresay it makes the most sense. The queen is a wise elf; why else would she allude to it?"

"But there has to be hundreds of places money could be," Wyatt said again, glaring back at her. Admittedly, he hadn't been in the best of moods in the first place, long before the four of them had come to different conclusions about the riddle. He'd wasted hours of his life the day before getting fitted for his suit, and then when he'd finally laid eyes on it, the darned thing had been littered with frills and lace. It'd taken another two hours to straighten that out: apparently the queen didn't want him looking too much like an elf if he wasn't one. Which was stupid, especially since, as far as he'd seen, elven formal dress was preferable both in style and comfort.

_______

Echo

Echo's journey had brought her back to the exact location it began: the heart of Trokya. Only this time she was dressed in an ugly over priced suit that existed somewhere between feminine and functional. To be truthful, Echo had simply stolen some poor boy's attire and left before she was caught.

But what she missed most of all was the mask that she'd donned last time. There was a comfort in being able to hide her face from the world. Unfortunately, everyone could see her for what she was. Even the Queen.

Sighing, Echo straightened the dark black overcoat and made sure the grey vest underneath was buttoned. Her pants were black as well and tucked neatly into a pair of boots. There was nothing special about her attire and it was exactly what she liked about it. Besides, nothing really went with purple anyways. Much to her chagrin, her only friend in fashion were shades of black.

With a slight hesitation, Echo finally entered the gaping entrance of the castle. Walking the same path as before, she was greeted by the ballroom which had changed from her last visit. The staircases were now adorned with brand new gold engravings. The floors were freshly polished and the chandeliers newly dusted.

Statues of elegant poses lined the walls where they hadn't before. Perhaps the Queen had turned her better looking citizens into stone. There was no other explanation for their life like appearances.