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Rated: GC · Fiction · Fantasy · #1185358
Psychic, Adria Quazar takes a stand to help other Gifteds to save her planet from tyranny.
The following is the first installment of my Fantasy Novel in the works. Please review. I would love some feedback...!


** Forward **


Adria Quasar darted from her canopy and looked out the window toward the cloudless sky as fire from the sky lit the Pandorian night in an explosive display of chaos. Though she had expected this, she could not control the fear as her heart raced and the hairs at the nape of her neck rose and fell in a nervous dance. For months, these visions had haunted her dreams and more recently, the warnings of the impending asteroid impact had come in waking hours as well. Mostly the visions came in bits like small pieces of a jigsaw puzzle that she was to put together. An asteroid would plunge into one of Jakarna’s moon’s, shattering the asteroid and parts of the satellite before catapulting to their final destination in shattered remnants across the Pandorian continent. Briefly, night would turn to day, then the Troopers would come.

Pulling herself from her memories, Adria could see a fire in the distance and began hearing confused voices of; the injured, dying, and desperate souls, as they scrambled around lost in fear and confusion. Homes were lost, families were now separated, crops had perished, and in some cases, whole villages were wiped out. Eventually, some of the water would be undrinkable unless filtered or treated.

She gazed back into the cloudless sky and noticed that the asteroid had sliced off a portion of Freya, Jakarna’s smallest of six moons. A considerable portion of its southern edge had been sliced clean through, broken like an egg. Then it happened. Adria gaped in awe as she noticed a huge rock. This was the actual asteroid, the fragments were merely companions and moon pieces, an appetizer to the main cosmic main course of punishment the Curator decided to serve the Pandorians for their disobedience. It was the size of ten Silurian mountains and it entered the atmosphere and shattered with a sonic boom. With a flash, the night turned to day.

She had to move fast, for the Regulators would shortly arrive, and if captured, Adria feared that everything she had accomplished and suffered in the last few weeks would have been for nothing. The tiny village outside Alcyone City had served an ideal refuge to rest at an Inn where the locals accepted cash and asked no questions. She grabbed a hair tie from the night stand and pulled her long black hair away from her face and up into a knot at the back of her head, made a mental note of the location of her tote next to the door, and took another look outside. At times it made her heart sick to be right and this time was no exception.

More punctual than a Deluvian clock, she saw them in the distance. Oh how she hated them. In the distance, she observed the shadowy outline of several Regulatory Roustabouts arriving above the horizon like a flock of Sensavian Buzzards looking for their next meal. She shuddered and tried pushing her hate for them aside, pulled on her boots, then silently thanked the Great Protector for giving her the good sense to sleep in her daywear, a jumpsuit made of Smart Fabric that allowed its wearer to blend in with their surroundings. She tried shutting out the screams of panic and desperation in the distance as the cries turned into those of relief at the approaching state police. A tremor shook the building she was in and she nearly fell to the floor but leaned against the wall as the whole planet seemed to rock too and fro. She could hear a Roustabout Ranger calling out repeatedly across a loud speaker, “Do Not be afraid, we are here to protect you. Come with us to a special community where you will be safe.”

She knew their version of safe from the wrong end of a whip and energy baton.

As the tremors stopped, Adria closed her eyes and muttered softly, “Fools.” She shook her head as if shaking off her newly acquired cynicism. Adria briefly thought of Layton, then choked back a sob as she grabbed her tote, quickly accessing that everything was in it that she needed. Adria figured if lucky, she might make it to her stolen Roustabout undetected. She now had three of the medallions and felt that by finding the little girl from her recent visions was a key in obtaining the other four. But, it wasn’t just for Layton she did this, nor was it the quest he senselessly died for. Curiosity drove her toward the blonde haired little girl with whom she shared a connection to, not only as a fugitive on the run, but as if they already knew each other, though they were strangers.

But this was no time for mental discourse. From outside her window, She heard the distinctive hum of a landing Roustabout followed by two Regulators exiting their vehicle and approaching. They were talking but she couldn’t make out what they were saying.

“Genta!” She cursed under her breath as she grabbed her energy baton from behind the door and waited. As she charged the weapon, the strange feeling washed over her that this had already happened before.


**Chapter ~ One ~ **

The cries of a Saturnian Eagle overhead pulled Adria from her vision and like a dream, the memory of what she just experienced was lost through the ether. Was it the heat that caused these reoccurring visions these last few days? Whatever it was, she felt as if something big was about to happen and it was rooted in her latest Archeological find.

She leaned back in her folding chair, gazing out at the Scarlet Plateau in the distance from the comfort of her pop-tent. The desert could be a cruel and relentless mistress but Adria was familiar with extreme climates. After spending a week trapped in the frozen marshes of Arctureena Nestu three cycles ago during her last expedition, Adria found the heat a welcomed relief and looked forward to the bitter cold of the Terrazine Desert night. Only in the frozen Marshes far to the North did the temperatures dip 300 Parsecs below freezing.

Adria drew her attention to the artifact on the collapsible table next to her and held the medallion up against the light, studying the ancient artifact with a detached curiosity and arched a quisitive brow. Most of her team had already packed their gear and left, leaving she and Layton to discuss their latest find. There were only six of these medallions buried by the Ancient Water Bearers four eons ago. Yet, here she sat in her private tent at the edge of the Terrazine Desert, holding a Seventh Circle of Destiny medallion in her hand.

To her left, Adria saw Layton’s Roustabout at Cayuga’s Urn, a giant monument carved by the Ancients 3,000 Ura’s ago. Below the plateau’s edge, Lady Cayuga’s head and torso was carved from the granite, forever pouring over her urn into which at the time it was carved, the Terrazine was a lake surrounded by lush vegetation. Cayuga’s Urn was created as a symbolic gesture, a reminder for Jakarnians to preserve truth and always hold fast to its beliefs. Many pilgrims flocked to see her every Ura and swore by her healing properties and many insisted the plateau itself held a kind of magic. Whether Pandorian, Atropian, or Lenkunite, and no matter if young or old, the message was clear, that once you’ve been exposed to Cayuga and her Urn for any length of time, your life would forever be altered. But Adria didn’t come to the Plateau for superstitious pursuits. Funny thing, curiosity, it held a temptation that continued to drive her across oceans and continents and she never grew tired or bored with the constant learning. But the medallion she and Layton found below Cayuga’s Urn that morning was curiously familiar.

She returned her attention to the neck piece and noted its clear authenticity.
It was round, made of rare Geomesan pewter, light weight but strong. Across its center ran two wavy Diazanine lines that symbolized expanding energy. As she once again held it against the light, it rippled like the ocean current does. Then, holographic orbs rippled in and faded from view within the medallion one by one on each side of the energy lines, symbolizing each of Jakarna’s six moons. They were beautiful, all in different shades of purple, orange, and blue. What left her curiouser still, was was that the seventh medallion was the only one where the moons merged together creating a largewr green orb that hung in the center of the medallion before fading entirally from view.

Adria looked toward the sky to note the time. Koa, Wacipi, and Freya had risen. Proteus ands Rhea were rising and she could just make out Taloka’s golden rings at the horizon as the Sun slowly made its descent into the night. Talooka always indicated the approach of coming nightfall in this area and bitter approach of the Desert night.. Her concern at this point, were the Regulators and whether they would arrive to ask of their discovery.

From her peripheral vision, Adria could see Layton jump into his Roustabout and put it in gear. It rose from the desert sand and silently slipped from the plateau, and made his way back to camp.

Being a sacred site, digging in the area was strictly forbidden.. Recently, the High Omicron had declared the Hidden Mysteries doctrine as sacrilegious and anyone caught actively pursuing any information surrounding them, were considered terrorists. The High Omicron, suggested to the Pandorian Curator that he make those seeking information on the Hidden Mysteries as enemies of the state. The Curator politely declined but he and the Omicron were friends and this being an election year, Adria couldn’t help but wonder if politicians were doing what they merely did best. Several of hers and Layton’s colleagues interested in the Movement and Hidden Mysteries had recently been found dead or had disappeared altogether. The powerful always seemed to repress the most interesting information and repressing good information merely left her hungry for more. A human trait. How could the power elite not understand that?

Adria leaned back in her chair with a sigh, returning the coin to its original crystalline case, pondering how the artifact existed despite what all the textbooks claimed and all the Hidden Mystery scholars had always stated.

“Psssst….”
So buried in her own thoughts, Adria hadn’t heard the Roustabout pull up, nor when Layton got out and approached. He shook red dust from blond hair and pulled up a chair next to her. She pretended not to be startled. “Get everything cleared out?”

“Nobody will know we’ve ever been here.” Layton Epsillion’s main contribution to the team was largely demolition work. But it was Layton who had the passion for the Circles Of Destiny. When Layton revealed to her of his suspicions several days ago of a seventh circle buried in the Terrazine area, Adria felt compelled to uncover it, despite the risks involved. “Well,” He continued impatiently, “What do you think?”

Though Adria never considered herself a spiritualist, the Movement and the Hidden Mysteries was a topic that always had fascinated her. She pulled thick black hair away from her face and tied it behind her head, allowing it to fall down her back. “Have you told anyone about this?”

He shook his head, red sand still dusting away from his hair. He took the circle from its case and held it up against the light. “No one but you and me, my friend. The rest of the team doesn’t even know what we found this morning.”

“You’re better at this than me, Layton, So refresh my memory. Since the medallions represent the sacred harmonies and were buried as a symbolic gesture of protecting the six different Jakarnian Spiritualities, what would the seventh medallion represent?”

“Now we both know that the High Omicron, together with the Regulators control what sacred texts they believe we are worthy enough to have. According to them, this beauty doesn’t exist. According to Hidden Mystery archivists, the 6 Circles not only represent the 6 Spiritualities, but they reveal hidden history of our origins and what we are becoming.”

The Omicron extremists had a way of squeezing the beauty from the Hidden Mystery ideology, spinning its text to suit their distorted purpose. “Are we going to turn into a forest of trees or what?”

He chuckled and placed the artifact back to its case and studied her face closely. “You know what I am talking about, Adria. Don’t hide it from me.”

She didn’t think he had noticed. How long had he known of her gift? “What are you talking about?”

“When the circle was first uncovered, you had a vision. Tell me. What was that vision?”

“I don…”

“Something about fire from the sky. Is that it?” He delicately prompted.
Fear turned into confusion. To be openly gifted was punishable a number of ways. Layton was no Regulator. She nodded as he continued. “It’s ok, “ He said, “I’ve known for a while.”

“As we uncovered the medallion. “ She said softly, “I reached down to pick it up and I heard an explosion. Through my mind’s eye, I saw the atmosphere engulfed in flames. Fire fell like rain, then the vision was gone. But how did you kno…”
“Telepathic.”

She wasn’t insulted that he had been inside her head after all, Adria felt as if she had nothing to hide from him. It didn’t even surprise her that Layton was a Gifted. Something in her just knew, but she was afraid to approach him directly. She feigned hurt, “You mean that you’ve been running around in my head?”

“No…. no… no…. not running around so much as a peek here and there.”

“Rambuta…”

“Language, Doctor Quazar.”

“Okay,” She sighed, “Now that we’ve got that out in the open, back to the task at hand. Why make a seventh circle and what is it for?”

“It’s a warning or an unveiling of something huge that’s to take place. It is also a key to understanding our planet’s lost history.”

Adria sensed his excitement but feared where this would lead. “What are your plans for this, Layton?"

“Finding the other medallions.” He answered matter of factly.

“You’ve been reading too many nursery rhymes, my friend.”

“Some children’s stories make better tales than our own.”

Adria wasn’t sure if she liked where this was going. The six circles were lost during the Pandorian/Atropis War before either of them were born. During the Astral Riots a couple of them emerged only to disappear again. But that was still many Uras ago. Even a resourceful Telepath like Layton could spend a lifetime on such a journey. She wanted him to see reason. “And how are you supposed to find the other medallions? You know what happens to those trying to seek the truth of Jakarnian history. And even if you happen to find every one of the Circles, the media is owned by the Omicron and Pandorian Government. Who will you tell… them?”
“It’s something I must do, Adria.”

“The gifted are forced to live in silence. Even those in the Movement are careful. I trust that you’ll be careful.”

Layton suddenly looked up and pocketed the artifact.

“What’s wrong?” She asked. But before Layton could answer, she heard the hum of a Regulator Roustabout approaching. They were the only ones allowed cloaking devices and Adria expected it to materialize at any moment.

“Just follow my lead.” Layton told her softly as the Roustabout blinked into view, lights suddenly shining on their faces.

“You both are in a restricted area. “ A voice from a loud speaker inside the vehicle said. “State your business, here.”

Layton took a step forward. “We are pilgrims who have come to take in the healing properties of Cayuga’s Urn.”

The spotlight dimmed as a Regulator exited the transport and approached them. They always traveled in groups of three, sending a spokesmen while the other two observed safely inside with the motor running, an intimidation tactic that began soon after the astral riots. Their uniforms were gray jumpsuits, made of smart-fabric. A utility belt worn around the waist hung their energy baton, and a retractable rope. Their boots were black and rumor had it, they allowed the Regulator’s to outrun anyone on foot. They all wore gloves, called Zaps that were lined with steel filaments and their goggles allowed night vision. The Regulator who approached them was tall with dark hair. Fairly non descript. Adria found it odd and a little sad that none of them ever seemed to smile.

“There was a larger group here earlier today.” He grumbled.

“Yes,” Layton continued his pretense and handed the Regulator a card. “They were with us.”

The Regulator removed his goggles and read it in silence, then looked at Layton, then Adria, and back at Layton. “Healing Journey Pilgrimage? What’s this?”

“Our business card.” Layton said with confidence. “We may not be able to practice what’s in the ancient scriptures, but the Curator never said no one could profit from it.”

“You make a business from that?”

“Why not?” Layton shrugged. “My partner and I have seen the lame walk, the deaf hear, red sand turned into wine, and even seen dead babies brought back to life.”

The Regulator sounded skeptical, “Dead babies…”

“Of course, it’s mostly for show. As you are aware, MANY come to the plateau every year to take in whatever it is that bring the multitudes to this place. Sometimes it’s good to have some entertainment. You know, to make the patrons feel as though they got their money’s worth.”

“Oh, I see.” He chuckled.

“We had sent everyone on their way earlier.” Adria added. “We were about to head out when you stopped by.”

“Okay, “ The officer nodded. “But you will need a permit after the elections.
“Thank you for the warning, officer.” Layton said. “We will be leaving shortly.”

The officer returned to his vehicle as Layton and Adria waved him off with a nod and smile.

“Red sand turned into wine?” Adria muttered as the Roustabout took off. “Where do you get this stuff?”

Layton ignored her and his voice took a more serious note. “We need to dismantle the tent and get out of here before they get too curious. And there’s something I would like you to see.”
© Copyright 2006 WildThing (i0laus at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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