Suriax by Amanda Young Page B

They were all focused on the
exhibition match still raging between Zanden and Sardon. It was
then she realized it was not coming from outside. The heat was
coming from inside her. Struggling to retain her composure she
moved to stand, knocking over a glass of water in the process.
Alvexton and the guards looked at her questionably. “I’m afraid
I’ve had a bit too much excitement for the night. There is still so
much to do tomorrow to prepare for the final royal gala. But I’ve
had a lovely time with you, tonight.”
    “Of course, I understand completely” Alvexton
replied. “I as well have enjoyed your company. I look forward to
seeing you tomorrow.” Bowing, he took his leave.
    Maerishka dismissed her guards and retreated
to her private chamber adjoining the balcony. Opulent, even by
royal standards, it held many marvels. The stadium was built with
strong magic out of three hundred foot wide tree. The walls and
doors were all part of the tree that were manipulated to curve
around and grow in such a way to create hollow spaces for rooms.
Most were simple, yet still awe inspiring. Her room was a step
above all that. The wood of the tree curved to create her
furniture. The tables, chairs and bed were all part of the tree.
Moss and leaves formed cushions and the mattress. A moss carpet
covered the floor, and leaves fanned out around a small sky light.
Flowers decorated the room, adding their fragrance and beauty to
complete the scene.
    But she didn’t notice any of that, now. The
burning was a raging inferno, worse than anything she imagined,
even after her encounter with the statue. Through her pain, she
sensed a presence behind her. A man, no not a man, but Venerith
himself stepped out of the shadows. Staggering in height, his horns
brushed against the fifteen foot ceiling. Seeing his statue did
nothing to prepare her for seeing him in person. Thick horns curled
from behind his head around above his eyes. Two long horns
protruded from his chin, surrounded by three shorter ones on either
side. Together, they formed a sharp bone beard. In fact, all the
hair on his face was formed from bone. His eyebrows were a series
of small spikes and a row of short horns ran along the center of
his head. Venerith’s skin was a glossy black. It was so black, if
one looked at it too long, you could imagine other colors lost
within the darkness. He wore a blue leather tunic with white
accents forming flames across the surface. A strap holding scrolls
as one may carry knives crossed over his chest and around his back.
Large clawed hands carried a larger scroll and a weapon that
resembled a scepter. It was actually a large mace with a shaft the
length of a staff. The top held an ornate globe of swirling colors
lost in a black field of darkness. The setting for the globe was
three curved blades. Blue flames ran up the length of the otherwise
black shaft. It was as beautiful as it was dangerous. Where he
walked, smoke appeared, leaving scorch marks on the floor. A faint
aura of fire surrounded him without obscuring his appearance or
burning the scrolls. His eyes were bright blue glowing orbs of
light. It was impossible to tell where he looked, though she could
feel the focus of his attention completely on her. He was beautiful
and terrifying in his intensity.
    She wondered, as she writhed in agony, what
she did to displease him. Why was he punishing her like this? Maybe
he changed his mind and was canceling their agreement. Maybe he did
not think her worthy of his blessings. Finally, unable and afraid
to vocalize all her questions and fears, she spoke the only word
she could think to speak. “Why?”
    He grinned and squatted down beside her.
“Power doesn’t come without a price.” He touched her chin and she
went blind from the pain. When her vision returned, she almost
wished it hadn’t. Flames surrounded her entire body. Heat infused
her eyeballs, the hairs on her head, even her toe nails burned. It
was as if her body was made of