1st 5 Pages June Workshop - Tran

Name: Teresa Tran
Genre: Young Adult Fantasy
Title: Fortox

Imara believed there were three types of dawn.

The first dawn came when twilight just began, the perpetual blanket of darkness touched again by a hazy cascade of purples and blues. The catalyst to Imara’s race against time, as if the day was already running and she was panting, panting, panting to catch up, all the while trying not to trip on her own two feet.

The second shade of dawn was a shy pale light peeking through the folds of the Cyan sea and a sky full of stars, a sudden flare of energy and brightness that shined over the entire world of Realiswefn as if saying I am coming. Prepare for me.

And lastly, though she told no one, the third shade of dawn and Imara’s personal favorite was the one that bathed the world in orange light, with soft strokes of yellow, gold and red, where it blended with the jungles that wrapped its’ vines across the realm. It somehow always made Imara feel restless and alive like she had better spit out words before they got caught in her throat or accomplish something grand and spectacular. Possibilities became more than just possible. They became tangible.

Leaning on one side of a black stone arch, Imara barely registered the wind that rustled her dark locs and her midnight cloak, making the fabric billow behind her. She was standing at the highest point of a citadel carved from one of the many tall mountains that surrounded her people’s lands. Where windows should have been, the arches that gave the fortress its’ structure framed out to open space. Imara reminded herself that it was okay to indulge once in a while as she looked to see the world laid out before her, where the finishing layers of dawn transitioned to a luminous morning.

As Compeer, Imara could choose to leave the safety of the citadel at any time, venturing out beyond the looming, impenetrable walls built by the Fortoxes, where the sun’s rays and the blessings the Emerald gave to the world of Realiswefn were evident and abundant. She closed her eyes, basking in the warm comfort of the sun and wished she could stay atop of the world like this forever. When she reopened her eyes, more ranges of mountains laid in the far distance, low instead of high, cutting through gray fog. Purely there as a precaution. To her right boasted a bright sapphire sea hiding an underwater merchant city, and to her left was a huge green field littered with secret gems and hermit clans. And beyond that, well, Imara would have to possess the ability to fly to see it all.

There was so much to do and so little time. If Imara had her way, she would shed her cloak and leave for the nearest town where responsibility did not exist and adventure awaited. But it was the letter that she received two days ago on her desk, sent by a thrust of wind through the fortress that was her home and when opened, propelled purple dust everywhere, that kept her from fleeing.

To the Compeer of the Fortoxes, my most kind greeting,

Because you know and I know that the Fortoxes have never been one to be forward. Or to bother participating with the rest of Realiswefn. But let me not mistaken your people’s idleness as an ample version of generosity. I believe there is more you and your people can offer. I seek your assistance with an issue. It cannot wait until the next letter that I will no doubt send to plead my people’s case. If you have any care for the world that you live in, that you are part of, meet me in two days’ time. You know where the wind is harsher and the dust is thinner.

Queen Kepi of the Violets, the people of air

The Violets are such dramatics, Imara thought. After she’d read the letter, she considered her options. One: she could ignore the plea written so plainly in bold black ink. Two: she could send a letter back, one made of shadows and reeking of death, just for pure entertainment. Imara would beg to see the kind of reaction that would produce. Or three: she could go see for herself what all the fuss was about.

But it had been eighteen years since the other leaders of Realiswefn had seen her. Eighteen years since any citizen or wielder had witnessed a Fortox in person. It was to Imara’s advantage that it stayed that way. However, the letter asked for the Fortoxes’ assistance in a timely issue, something that was worth all the trouble to try to reel out the Compeer of the Fortoxes after all this time. Though that didn’t mean Imara forgot all the times the leader of the Emeralds sent her fake jewels to persuade to come out or the moments when she thought she saw incoming tsunami storms powered by the Cyan sea from the stints she took, standing at the top of the citadel. From the lovely Merchant Prince no doubt. And who could forget the time the Aethers’ Commander had sent her a teasing photograph that flashed in her eyes. Literally. Imara had been partially blind for at least a week.

This letter could be no different. Another desperate attempt to yank Imara out from the depths of the shadows and to come out into the light, where all of Realiswefn could see what they had been kept away from for eighteen years. They hadn’t missed much, though. She had hardly changed, except the fact that she was older and wiser. Her people, on the other hand, were living in quiet bliss. That did not mean they were unprepared or ignorant in the manner of defense. While the rest of Realiswefn were gifted by the Emerald with abilities to bend light, air, water, earth and fire to their every whim or cursed with no talents over the elements whatsoever, the Big Gem had blessed the Fortoxes with a different sort of arsenal. Or rather tasked.

Imara flexed her hand, a ring gleaming on one of her long fingers, the black band a shade darker than her skin. Etched into the band, was a symbol of two hands covered in shadows outstretched from a gray mountain. A reminder. A promise.

She had tucked the letter the Violet Queen had sent her into the inner pockets of her cloak, and now standing at the top of the citadel, Imara knew she had no other choice. While the world thought the Fortoxes had disappeared entirely, Imara had kept her network of warriors and spies tightly spread among Realiswefn. It would be sooner than later before the rest of the waking population began to realize the truth and unravel all that she had worked for. All the secrets she kept hidden.

Looking back one last time at her land, her home, Imara felt a coil of unease in her stomach. And yet, there it was, beneath the fear, a thrill of anticipation.

I am coming. Prepare for me.

With a roll of her shoulders, her shadow began to writhe and expand before it wrapped its’ entirety around her body, blending in with her cloak and Imara disappeared. Not a slice of darkness left behind.