An old war that will not ends haunts Lightening's life. Since the end of the first world, rashamen have predicted the birth of a savior. Lightening has no interest in the prophecy, but the prophecy doesn't care. He is being forced to choose between...
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Forgive the rough sketch. Constana has paler hair...
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As does Shawna...
Genesis
Shawna lifted the man with her back and threw him over her shoulder. As soon as he crashed to the ground, she plunged in her dagger and was met with a cheer from the crowd. Thundonia was still an infant land, but it was growing and even the Star Children were shuddering at the odd collection of renegades. A smile stole over Shawna's lips as she observed them, her motley riffraff.
Just then, she was paralyzed by the sight of a Star Child. No mistake, this was a Star Child. She possessed every mark of the race. She had hair so pale it was white, she was no more than fifteen, and her eyes were the shade of the sky. She wore white robes and at her neck was a birthcross. Shawna even caught sight of the moon and star symbol on the palm of her left hand, as if the Child was intentionally exposing herself. The Thundonians didn't accost her, nor did any stand next to her. She was shorter than the Thundonians crowding to keep their distance, but taller than the average Star Child. She wasn't the only female in the arena, but nearly so. Shawna knew who she had to be. Even Thundonians respected Constana the Great.
Shawna turned abruptly, climbed the lattice of the Playground and exited through the ruler's box. She used to sit in the loge alone, but since the Warrior debacle, Shawna had chosen Beast to be her advisor and second in command. Beast whooshed to his feet, rushed after Shawna and ignored the cheering people still crammed in the arena.
"Constana the Great, Shawna—" Beast gasped, rushing to keep up with her.
"I know," Shawna said.
"What in the world does she want?"
Shawna sniggered. "What else? To make peace with the savages."
Beast bobbed his head, laughed eagerly with Shawna.
* * * * *
Shawna adjusted the oil lamp on her desk. The guard who'd written this report had poor handwriting. She squinted trying to make it out. She had a heap of scrolls to manage and couldn't waste time deciphering them. Her scrolls included reports on crime, status of the citizens, petitions, proposed law changes and challenges. Those who had an ambition to rule should have seen the amount of paperwork that came with it. She'd had to learn to read just to deal with it all.
