Snippet #2188988

There was an awful lot that could be said for the march of progress. It was something that many of the esoteric researchers were only too quick to point out when people began to get sentimental.

Since the reign of the empress had begun, the blanket of fear and superstition that had once covered Valon had been gradually lifted away, into a new and enlightened age of understanding.

They could understand how magic worked. They could enhance and control it, focus it and use it as power. The force that had once seen the species of Valon cowed and terrified had become a means for them to better their lives.

Through one of the high, vaulted glass windows it was possible to see out into the blue evening, where the eerie glimmer of the magelights that lined the streets of the capital swayed in the wind. Winter was beginning to draw in, though to the inhabitants of the city, such a thing held little fear. The enchanted gardens allowed food to be grown all year round.

A few inhabitants heading home from work, or out to search for a meal or amusement, trod along the cobbles, attempting to keep out of the path of the golems. The hulking, metallic figures in question plodded through the streets with brooms and cleaning cloths, the magelights glinting off their bronze shells and immobile masks. Children often shied away from the constructs, though few of the adult inhabitants of Valon batted an eyelid any longer to their presence. They had become a fixture, yet another great gift provided by the new governance.

It couldn't be blamed on them, it was natural enough to wish for comfort over hardship, and under the influence of those who dwelled up in the palace, the people never seemed to face any sort of difficulty....to the point that they neglected to ask very important questions.

The insides of the palace were probably not what most would imagine...well..below the ground floor at any rate. A great deal of effort had been taken into preserving the old features above, though the installation of esoteric power had proved a challenge, and meant that the old dungeons and storage rooms had had to be drastically remodelled.

The chamber could not have been more than one floor below the ground, if the small windows were anything to go by. It had been built to minimize sound, though it appeared they did not feel that they had much to hide regarding the power source...even if it were somewhat...distasteful to individuals.

A few magelights burned overhead in the large domed room, the copper-plated door left somewhat ajar.

At the front, a haphazardly dressed figure paced back and forth, wringing their hands.

The individual appeared to be a woman in her late twenties, rather unimpressive in stature, bearing the look of someone who had far too much on their mind. Her dark blonde hair was tied back rather messily, and seemed somewhere in need of a wash, reflecting the lights in a rather unappealing manner. She looked a little on the pale side, eyes deep-set and cheek bones rather high. It was possible there was some elf in the family, but it was clearly quite a way back.

She was dressed in a collection of ill-matching, and admittedly rather cheap clothes, her outfit seeming to have been assembled by committee, and more than enough to demonstrate that she couldn't have been there as a guest of the empress or any of the council members that dwelt within the building.

No, Maeve was there as a matter of...what was it...obligation? Guilt? Some manner of foolish optimism that her presence might be of help? No...it wasn't exactly any of them...it was more that it was the only thing she could do. The order was gone. The schools of magic were scattered, and the mythical creatures were and hidden in fear of falling prey to the Esoterics. She was pretty certain there was not likely to be some great uprising. So this was, in some way, Maeve's only way of showing the people what she was, or what she had once been at any rate...regardless of how painful it was.

The sharp-featured woman turned and walked toward the centre, feeling her stomach twisting into knots at the sight of the shape, forlornly suspended from the centre of the dome by several cables and ropes. It was an enormous shape, four legs and a pair of once imposing wings that lay in tatters, hanging limply at its
sides. The beast's head rested on the tiled floor, criss-crossed with cuts and with the jaw locked shut. There appeared to had once been horns, but they had been roughly sawn off.

Set around the creature's ribs a metallic claw issued upwards, gripping its chest, some sort of red, vicious glow leaking through the gaps as it seemed to be...taking something.

This, this...travesty was the fate of the dragon Rah'von. His life force had powered the lights of the palace for approaching three years, and Maeve, once a rider of considerable renown, found herself nothing but an inconsequential figure in it all.

Where were the others? Other dragon riders? She didn't know. Maybe they'd suffered the same fate. The bond had weakened over the years, but it still didn't allow her much further than the city gates. They could all be gone for what she knew, or the news of the terrible fate that might await those of great magical power might have scared them away.

The woman dropped to her knees beside the head of the once great creature and ran a hand over the dull scales. There was no reverence for them anymore.

Hesitantly, the woman made her way over to the large, arching doors that marked the entrance to the chamber, opening them somewhat and looking out into the corridor. She was loathe to walk too far away from the chamber, even though her bond no longer held her there, but she resented that she was trapped out of sight, and for the most part out of mind. While the Esos liked to state that they had nothing to hide, they had for from placed them in pride of place. It was on one of the lower floors. The presence of others was by no means forbidden, but the majority of visitors and staff simply saw little reason to pay it a visit.

What she wanted to do was tell people about this, about what had happened, assuming people wished to listen. She had always been very good a getting people to listen but that...that had been before...something that felt almost like a previous life.