There is a legend as old as time itself. A prophesy written on parchment so ancient it is said they precede the earths creation. In darkened chambers they lay protected by the Nightguards, creatures so deadly that even the greatest warrior kings have not dared stand against them. Many speculate that the day will come when those chosen will retrieve these scrolls which will either protect or destroy the ones who bear them. The time is at hand. The day draws near. And the evil queen who almost became Keeper of the Scrolls once a thousand of years ago is being released from her dungeons.
A strange beast rose from the darkness. It cast shadows upon the cold grey walls leaving a feeling of dread wherever it fell. Silenced beckoned the hollow prisoner. Its skin dropped in places where skin should not be. Cold, grey eyes stared into a million pieces of darkness that rolled into one, leaving the room an empty pillar of midnight that ran on forever.
There was a reason why the lights were never on. Down in the deepest cauldrons of a personal hell, the notorious princess Nebula of the skies had been transformed into something gruesome, a terrible creature with ill fitting skin that cried at its very reflection.
A loud noise echoed within the great walls. The large doors were thrown open allowing slivers of light to enter the damp room. A single black boot stepped forward and the horrendous creature inched back against the moss green walls. The second boot stepped in followed by a loud thump as a huge guard stumbled down the steps and into the night.
Nebula scurried along the floor and into the deep black hole where she had hidden for more than a thousand years. She looked on as bright lights filled her prison when a dozen moon riders came into view. Who said the moon only reflected light she thought as the blinding spots of lights inched down the narrow stairs and rested beside her cot.
“She is not here,” a rider whispered. His light was fading fast but she could make out the confused expression on his face as he stared into the dark.
“Where else would she be?” another demanded. Piston had come. She could see the cruel twist of his mouth and a blue scar that split his face in half. That had been the price he had paid for fighting on her side. Loyalty such as this did not go unpunished and he had felt her father’s wrath.
“Maybe she escaped already,” There were loud murmurs as they discussed the possibility among themselves.
“Had she escaped no one would have been left alive,” they finally decided. Nebula smiled at the thought of ripping out the hearts of those who had kept her captive. They would feel her wrath she decided, her brother most of all for his blatant betrayal.
“Your majesty,” Piston called. He was merely a pale wisp of light by now but the blue scar throbbed horribly against his face like a giant tic. She tried to speak but no words came for the form in which she had been imprisoned made it impossible to utter a word. She threw a clean white bone in his direction and stared as twelve pairs of feet got into battle formation and advanced as a single unit. When they came to the mouth of the cave the soldiers stopped and Piston alone moved into its depth.
“Stay back,” he warned the others. She may not want you to see her right now.” He crouched low and entered the cold space where his former mistress now pressed, moaning loudly in an effort to speak.
“Your majesty,” Piston called once more. He became brighter until the light was blinding and the creature dashed away from him, finally settling against the far wall.
“What have they done to you?” he asked. The pity in his voice was obvious and it was more that the former princess could bear and Nebula melted into a large vat of tears onto the floor.
“Bring the Charions here,” he demanded referring to the coven of witches who once did her bidding.
“Why do we need the Charions?” Star, a young Rider called from the fold.
“To get our queen back,” he responded, “now do as I command,” He turned to look at the puddle which was slowly turning back into its ghastly form.
“What have they done to you?” he asked again. It was only then that he noticed the discarded human bones shaped into the form of a single word on the ground. She pointed at it and burst once more into bitter tears.
L I L L I T H they spelled. The rider gazed at the word until finally recognition grew in his eyes and suddenly Piston understood.
“LILLITH,” he whispered in the glowing darkness. The skies moved with a loud roar and the creature nodded its ugly head.
“Queen Lillith.” The Rider said once more and he bowed deeply in the blinding darkness.
Can you believe that the multi-million dollar Olympic bird nest built in Beijing has now become a rotting mess? Well it has. Prior to these events, the structural masterpiece was receiving raves from critics all over the world but today that has all changed. Not only is the paint peeling off but it costs 8.8 million a year for mantainance alone. What a drag! The chinese are such an ingenious people that I personally think its only a matter of time before they come up with a few ideas to keep it in one piece.
