1st 5 Pages July Workshop- Toran

Name: Katherine Toran

Genre: Young Adult Fantasy

Title: Persephone’s Waltz

Prologue

At my first glance, Ysabel looked too short to be a Holy Maiden. The Bride of the Sun God was almost as petite as a dwarf or a halfling, but her straight-backed teenage frame exuded the force of a grown woman. She was so beautiful that even looking upon her face seemed like blasphemy. I was in awe.

I’d almost forgotten the pain in my shoulder until jolted by the lack of it. Standing on her tip-toes, Ysabel withdrew her hand. I pulled aside my bandages. The bruise which had once spread all the way to my elbow had vanished, leaving only a crust of blood. My heart did a somersault. This miracle proved the Holy Maiden was truly the virtuous master I’d been looking for. Belatedly, I said, “Thank you.”

Her smile spread wider. Each movement flowing like a fairy descending to earth, she sat down in a plaid armchair which dwarfed her. Her oak desk was large enough for use by a whole platoon and covered in paperwork. “Blessings of the Sun God be upon you, Alzira. All I have is yours, but this humble servant would not want to keep you from a divine calling to rest.”

I had no idea what she’d just said, but it sounded as lovely as her. Black curls cascaded over her frilled white dress. Ears, nose, and mouth alike were all delicately doll-like. She wore no jewelry or blush. Ambiguously brown skin powdered to flawlessness and hazel eyes made it hard to pin down which foreign country she’d come from. Likely mixed-race. A woman like me couldn’t compare to her: tall, muscular, and bronze-skinned with hawk-like angular features and silken black hair shaved to a crew cut. My eyes had been described as “phoenix eyes” by men who wanted to flatter me and “beady” by those who did not. The contrast inspired no jealousy in me. I’d never wanted to be the princess of the story; I wanted to be the knight who protected the princess.

The Dragon Maidens’ quartermaster, Suzette, stepped forward from her place by the bronze door and whispered, “She says you can skip dinner if you’re too tired from your journey.”

“Oh! Uh, yes, Your Holiness, I already ate on the road. Thank you. Thank you so much.” I flexed my healed arm, still wonder-struck. The Holy Maiden’s office bedazzled me, from the skylight etched in gold to the lady saints busy dying gruesome deaths on the mahogany panel walls. Curtains framed a golden sun decoration and a huge world globe, half of it whited out for unexplored regions.

Holy Ysabel’s gaze fixed on my headscarf. “In this is a place of women, you need not feel constrained by modesty. My Dragon Maidens answer to no man except the Sun God. Please feel as unhindered and free in your dress as Saint Olthea who leapt off a mountain to her demise and, of course, into the embrace of the Sun God.”

“I wear this for my own beliefs. I hope that’s not a problem.” Defensiveness entered my voice as I tugged my headscarf. The splash of red persimmons added a touch of style to my leather armor. Arahasnor, the Holy City, had representatives from every sect of the Sun God around the world, but I’d quickly learned that sharing space didn’t make them any more tolerant of differences in doctrine.

By the Sun God, for a girl barely past eighten, Ysabel had the piercing gaze of a tiger. Then she smiled, and it was like watching the sun rise. “I pray that I have caused the lamb in my charge no discomfort. Suzette, please show our beloved guest to her room, as the Sun God wills.”

“Don’t you need to ask me anything else?” As a probationary bodyguard for the Holy Maiden, I’d expected a list of duties, or a test, or at least something more than a dig at my clothing.

“The Sun God has eternal time in His omnipotent wisdom, but His humble servant is ever-busy. Happily, my own limited mortal insight foresees that you too will find labor in the near future, wherever the Sun God may call you—near or perhaps very, very far.” Ysabel snapped her fingers. Suzette placed a hand on my arm and led me out of the office.

“What does that mean?” I half-whispered.

“It means you won’t be sticking around very long, spy,” Suzette replied, propelling me forward with a bit too much force. Dumbfounded, I didn’t resist.

I mean, she was right about me being a spy, but how had she known?

The palace of the Holy Maiden Ysabel had appeared strictly functional from the outside: a granite wall which had clearly seen battle, iron triangular caps and arrow slits on the towers, and metal spikes obscuring the rose-and-chalice flag of the Sun God. The ornateness of the interior caught me off guard. Gold and silver etched the windows, forming flowering vines down the rosy walls. The corners were packed with presents and donations from around the world, a few gifts still unwrapped. This place must have more wealth than ten villages. The arched corridor reminded me of a tiger’s mouth, with marble pillars for teeth and the red silk carpet for a tongue, and me the morsel of meat about to be swallowed.

Stopping, Suzette turned a copper handle to reveal a sea-green poster bed framed by royal blue curtains. A pillar held a bust of Saint Alzira, my namesake. I had my own writing desk and fireplace. The swirling turquoise carpet was in the style of my homeland Nang, another very kind personalized touch. Painted angels peeked down from the ceiling—human, dwarf, elf, and halfling alike. Sitting on the purple-covered table, my weather-beaten leather satchel looked like a peasant who’d snuck into a royal ball. So much gold covered the armchair that I’d hardly dare sit on it.

There was even a weapons rack, where I placed my scimitar. As my hands brushed the chains wrapped around the hilt, I felt a pang in the left side of my chest, reminding me of my Oath. I’d sworn a magic-enforced vow that if I drew this blade before I found a true master, then my heart would stop.

“You can ring any time tomorrow morning when you’re ready for breakfast. I’ll come by to guide you to the dining hall,” Suzette said, turning away.

“Wait!” I tried to marshal my thoughts. “About the spy thing.” I gulped. A dizzying array of floral scents wafted off Suzette. The curly-hair blonde in her bejeweled blue dress intimidated me with her perfectly tweaked eyebrows and plump red lips. I didn’t know how to talk to a posh beauty.

The vicious intrigue of the eleven church sects swallowed spies whole. Would they believe me if I told them how badly I wanted to switch sides? My palms dampened. I had to do the right thing and be truthful, or my dream since childhood would be over before it had begun. “It’s true. Patriarch Jiohnanny asked me to become Holy Ysabel’s bodyguard in order to send him reports on her movements. He, uh, even implied I might be asked to sabotage the Dragon Maidens. But I would never do anything so dishonorable. I only agreed because he would have had me assassinated if he found out I actually wanted to join your World Games team.”