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Birth of a Covenant Legend: Chapter 1
Posted By: Ryst Airasee<RystAirasee0208@AOL.com>
Date: 25 December 2004, 1:32 AM


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The room was dark, still. The only light was cold, pouring in from the stars which could be seen from the observation windows in the room. They were sprinkled against a black void painted with purple and blue streaks. Nearby, a gas giant hung in space.

Suddenly, lights among the side of the room lit up, casting brilliant white into the room, glancing off the dark purple walls. In the center of the room a tiny pedestal sat, columns reaching up around it.

Two Prophets entered the room. There were frail-looking and sat in bulbous hovering mechanisms, adorned in rich robes and glistening gold headdresses.

The first had dark brown skin and red robes with gold trim, while the other had white skin and was dressed in gray robes with black trim. They moved from the observation window to a corner of the room where seven murals sat, showing the history of the Covenant.

"We have done well," nodded the white-skinned Prophet. "But now may I inquire the reason behind this meeting, Truth?"

"The reason is this, Mercy..." the other Prophet responded in an authoritative voice.

They turned away from their history and stared towards a door that was cloaked in shadow. The Prophet of Truth moved towards it, pressing his hand against the center. Light shot out from the door, hitting the back wall and disappearing. Slowly, with a low hiss, the door slid open.

The white-skinned Prophet gasped in surprise, his bleary red eyes snapping open. "The lost mural!"

"Indeed it is. Do you know what it shows?" Truth asked, rubbing that clusters of skin that hung from his chin thoughtfully.

Mercy moved forward, studying the cracked piece of stone. It depicted two Prophets raising their arms. A tiny Elite, black in coloration with silver markings, hovered above them. What seemed to be an army of humans lay dead beneath the Prophets, and blood was raining from the sky.

"The Augur," hissed the Prophet of Mercy excitedly.



CHRONICLES OF RIAO:
THE BIRTH OF A COVENANT LEGEND


A deep cavern lay in the bowels of an unknown planet. The bottom of the cavern was filled with rancid, stagnant brown water. The air was musty and foul-smelling, as huge clouds of dust and pollution wafted slowly upwards.

Down in the muck, a creature stirred. The massive beast wrapped its slimy, knobby tentacles around a slab of rock that was tiny in comparison to it. The slab was splattered with filth and cracked with age.

"S-s-so," it gurgled in a deep, distorted voice, rancid breath floating from its mouth, "They... they have found it. But do they truly understand it? That...that is the true question. They listen with joy, yet they know not... the end of the story."

The creature paused, its throat undulating, pushing more heavy breath outwards. The slab slipped from its grasp.

"My minions... they wait in their graves. Yet soon they shall rise. They shall rise and indulge my mind. I...I long for the visions of the outer worlds, stolen from my hosts..."

Upon recalling its dormant underlings, the massive beast's mind slowly shut down. Its head drooped, its entire body seeming to wilt and fall. Slowly, it sank into the mire of its lair, wrapping one tentacle protectively around the slab it had held only moments before.

* * *

The female Elite lay in her bed, her chest heaving. Her eyes filled with fondness as her soulmate caressed her hand. Nearby, an Elite dressed in white robes held an egg carefully, examining it from all sides, wiping the birth fluids off it.

"A fine passage," the robed Elite said, clicking its mandibles. "The egg is healthy. The child should live long."

The female Elite sighed happily, lazily closing one eye. Her soulmate stood up, eyeing the other occupant.

"You will take it to the Noble Prophets now?" he asked in a deep voice.

"Yes, 'Iskramee. It must be blessed, should it ever hope to be a Council Member," the robed Elite replied.

"A Council Member," snorted the female Elite when the robed Elite had left. "Is that what you had in mind for our child, 'Iskramee?"

"Yes, 'Lihamee. It is a position of great honor. What did you have in mind?" 'Iskramee asked.

"An Honor Guard," sighed 'Lihamee wistfully, not realizing she was fiddling with her blankets. "They protect the Prophets and fight, unlike the Council Members who sit in their chambers and talk."

"You know the Council Members fight. They are fine warriors."

"They rarely fight. It is not their main duty. Besides, I cannot imagine your child sitting around discussing politics."

"That may be true," 'Iskramee said, smiling mischivieously. "I shall leave you now. You need rest."

The male Elite slipped out of the red-carpeted room and watched his soulmate from the doorway. When he was sure she was asleep, he shut the door behind him, gave a fond sigh, and headed into an Observation Bay to watch the Elite bearing their child get in a dropship and depart for High Charity.





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