Illusional Reality

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New-adult romantic fantasy (published) In this fantasy you won't find any trolls, fairies, unicorns or hobbits. Tsinia, a magical land on the brink of destruction and only Becky, a city girl from England, can stop it. Or so it is prophesied.

Several tril moons had passed when Omad received word from Senx. Darthorn demanded an encounter with Thya and would wait no longer. An emergency council was held.
“We have conversed among ourselves, Omad, and as the elected head of the council, tis your accountability to ensure our lady encounters with Darthorn. Tis our instruction, and if you fail, tis agreed that you will suffer the consequences,” Tasark told him.
Omad was sorry he ever accepted the position. Since becoming the head he had not known restful sleep. Too much was demanded of him and far higher was the grave responsibility he was expected to bear. Now it had come to this. He questioned what he should do, only he knew the answer. Somehow, he had to persuade Thya to reconsider; it seemed now that his own future was in jeopardy.
Omad found Thya lunching with Kezar underneath the shade of a tree, close to the Upess.
“My lady, pardon the intrusion. Tis pressing I converse. Kezar you will depart,” he instructed.
“Very well, only remain close at hand,” Thya told Kezar.
Kezar left, walked a short distance, and sat on the ground waiting for Thya's call.
“What is the urgency, Omad? You look pale with fear. Please, sit. Inform me freely.”
Omad seated himself upon the ground cross-legged. “You recognise our plight and realise your fate—”
Thya interrupted him. “Not that again. I have declared I have yet to accept this. You will provide me duration. I thought this was agreed upon?”
“It was,” Omad answered. “Only Darthorn refuses to tarry.”
“I understand. He commands you to jump, and you inquire how high? Well, I am not ready as yet. I understand your plight and I am aware of my chosen destiny. However, I do not accept this, and doubt I ever will. I am not your princess, and I can never be.
“You expect me to exist in a land that is heading for certain destruction. It is too much. I am sorry for your plight, and I pray you locate the strength to overcome Darthorn. Only tis not my fight. I will not be forced into wedlock!”
She was near to tears, yet none would come; enough had been shed during the time she had been in Tsinia.
Omad was desperate and needed to think carefully. Why would she not listen to reason? For some moments, they sat in silence, when at last the answer came to him. “I recognise your distress, Thya, and I concur with all you declare. Alas, whether you believe this or not, Tsinia is your home and has always been. Even if you depart, you are still the rightful heir. Recall if you will what occurred on your land, England. If you are to return, I am convinced your duration will be plagued with attempts to destroy you. Darthorn will not cease. He will continue dispatching Senxs to Earth. Here you are protected by the employment of your gifts and your loyal subjects. On Earth, you will have naught to protect you. Unless you confront your destiny and aid your kinsmen, you will surely die.”
Thya was speechless. Either way, she would lose. She knew Omad was just in his words. Nothing would stop Darthorn from sending more Senxs to kill her, unless she found a way to stop him herself.
“Depart,” she said. “I will dispatch word when I have decided what to do.”
Omad stood up. “By your leave.” He bowed. “I pray to the Changlins to bestow on you the strength in producing the correct decision.”
Kezar watched Omad depart then rejoined Thya.
“I sense bad tidings,” Kezar said.
“Tis. I fear my rest and peace have come to a conclusion. Summon Alkazar to my counsel, I will return to the Recas in waiting.”
“At once,” Kezar curtsied then ran off in haste.

Thya had barely time for thought before Alkazar's quick arrival to the Recas.
“You requested for me, my lady,” he said, breathless, as though he had run all the way.
“I did, Alkazar, sit.”
Kezar then left, shutting the door behind her.
“I sense the cause of your summons,” he told her.
“I assumed you would. The moment has arrived. Darthorn will endure not longer and tis the duration to face my doom or continue with the consequence of yours. As I have confessed prior to now, I have a belief, deep in my heart. I understand what I will do, only I cannot accept this. Alkazar, I have not duration to welcome my fate. I summon you for advice and in the hope of consolation. I am not afraid. The struggle tis that I cannot accept the burden. I am not your saviour.”
“How I sympathise with you, such is the responsibility that comes with your standing. You are resolved to proceed?” he questioned.
“Do not force me to utter such words, yet I realise I am. Do you deem me set and fit?”
“Unfortunately, you are able. Tis not my standing to state otherwise. Suppose the requirement arises, you retain the power to protect and control yourself, although I desire longer in session you are well trained. I believe there is more I can absorb from you, a greater strength of your power I have yet to discover. Alas, this will remain so, until your introduction to your future spouse.”
“Do not utter such words!” Thya cried. “I will venture to Senx for peace without a union. I will not discuss this proposal, and I believe tis wise to relate Darthorn of this prior to my visit.”
“Tis by Darthorn's authority that the alliance is settled with wedlock. Do you consider he would consent to a treaty absent from this?” Alkazar asked.
“Nay, I do not. Even so, I will attempt this. What other option do I retain? He has not yet met with me, he is not acquainted with my charm and persuasion,” Thya joked.
Alkazar forced a smile then took a deep breath of satisfaction. “Then tis set in motion. In any case, a discussion will come to pass and as the Oracles predict, we will be victorious. I will inform Omad of your resolve. This ought to release the pressure on you. Arrange this instance when you are to encounter, or Darthorn will dictate.”
“Very well, one tril moon from the present. I will not linger. I am resolved to proceed and I desire to put closure to this unpleasantness.”
“Tis your command so be it. We will meditate and consult the Changlins.”
Under the guidance and watchful eye of Alkazar, Thya meditated and prayed for strength and guidance.
                                                                                            ***
Alkazar did not sleep well. His fear for Thya's safety kept him awake through the night. As always, he ran scenarios through his head. His mind raced, and always he came up with a counter attack. He wanted his princess prepared for anything.
“She ought not to partake in the consumption of food and drink,” he said, shattering the silence of darkness.
Thya spent the next light preparing herself for the confrontation with Darthorn. Pertius gave instructions to her on what she should say, and the correct way to behave. He instilled into her the importance of decorum. Alkazar bombarded her with a series of imagined events and instructed her on how to attend to them. By the time they had finished, her mind was reeling. She had barely enough time to visit the Plecky for a short prayer before her departure.
The journey was slow and torturous to the legs. To Thya, the mountain seemed to grow with every step. It seemed like hours had passed before she sighted the black gates of Senx. She prayed for strength, questioning if this was the beginning or the end?
Armed guards escorted Thya through the city. The sight stunned her, though she wasn't quite sure what to expect. She presumed the Senxs would appear vicious looking, like her escort of guards. To her surprise, the citizens appeared similar to Tsinians. They hurried around, busy with their tasks, yet merry. They were well groomed and appeared healthy and happy. It was obvious that no matter what she thought about Darthorn, none could say he wasn't good to his kinsmen.
Thya was led to a large, bare chamber. The hall was constructed in gold. It glittered and shined, giving the chamber a rich and powerful feel.
The guards withdrew from the chamber without announcement. It was then Thya became aware she was not alone.
On the far left side of the chamber stood a Senx; his back was to her, his interest otherwise occupied as he stared out of the window covering most of the wall. It was obvious to Thya who he was, for she had seen him in her dreams. His large hands were clasped behind his back, his stance proud and dominating. He was wearing a long dark red and gold kimono type gown. His jet-black hair hung loose down his back, the length almost touching his hands. There was no doubt in her mind. This was Darthorn; the ruler of Senx.
Thya waited for Darthorn to acknowledge her, but soon realised he was not going to. Her patience could hold out no longer. Coughing loudly, she stirred Darthorn from his thoughts. His head whipped around, his scorn turned into an artificial smile, or so Thya thought.
“Welcome, Princess,” his deep voice boomed.
It took him four powerful strides to reach her. He extended his arm, which she took, then led her to the middle of the open spaced stone floor. With a wave of his hand, a gold, regal style table and two chairs appeared. The table was laden with fruit and beverages. Thya gasped. Still the magic and mystic of her new world surprised her.
“Be seated,” he instructed, pointing to one of the chairs.
As Thya took her seat, Darthorn poured a liquid that looked similar to Tsinian wine into two goblets and handed one to her. Remembering what Alkazar had said, she held the cup in her hands, not daring to let the wine touch her lips.
“I am pleasured to lay sight upon you, finally,” he added, “for I have lingered long for our rendezvous. Your reputation precedes you. Tis an honour you travel to my land.”

 

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Illusional Reality

 

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