Valreth looked out over his throne room. Attendants bustled about, hurrying to fulfill his latest request. He didn’t like to think of himself as commanding. He was, after all, a benevolent god. He simply had to ask, and his subjects fell over themselves trying to complete his request. It was good to be loved. He was enthroned in the capital of his empire, Radiance. He preferred simple names that reminded his subjects of his divinity.
A wine glass drifted up to him, levitated by delicate patterns of Wind. Valreth smiled. A dignified way to serve god, fitting. He felt a faint pang—like hunger—but deeper, vaster. Valreth looked over at his head priest.
“I am feeling a tad peckish, Yalv,” Valreth said. “Would you mind fetching my mid-day meal? I would like something…” Valreth took a sip of his wine, “spicy.”
Yalv bowed deeply. “I live and die by your will, my god.” He turned and gestured sullenly to one of his sub-priests. The man scurried out of the room, exiting through one of the oversized doors. Valreth’s throne room was a grand thing. Enormous, it was floored by perfectly polished marble. Row upon row of marble pillars ran up and down the room, perfectly aligned, all reflecting Valreth’s glory. Spread throughout the room were enormous fountains fashioned from crystal. Polished five times daily, they glistened with absolute perfection. Four burning braziers were positioned around his throne, a flawless masterwork of diamond. A bit uncomfortable, but Valreth preferred visual perfection to petty comfort.
He glanced at Yalv. Has there been a time when he has not been sullen? Valreth searched his memory. It was a struggle; he had accumulated countless memories in his thousand-year lifetime. After some effort he recalled two times when Yalv had been visibly happy: shortly after Valreth had risen to power, and just after the extermination of the Sprites. Is there some connection between those two events? The rest of the time he has been dour. Why is he so unenthusiastic now?
Valreth put off trying to discern the reason; his meal had arrived. A young woman floated into the room, suspended by patterns of Wind, like the wine glass to Valreth’s right. He judged her to be in her twenty-fifth year. She had shoulder-length red hair, a sign that she might be strong in Fire. Most striking were her brilliant blue eyes. They were bloodshot, but even marred, they seemed to illuminate the room. She looked healthy.
Valreth was pleased. She would serve him well. She finished floating towards him and stopped a short distance away, still suspended above the ground. Her body was limp with apparent resignation.
“Tell, me, sweet one,” Valreth said, “what is your name?”
“Seya’toreth, my god.” A single tear rolled down her cheek.
She must be overwhelmed with joy at meeting me. Valreth rose and gently wiped the tear from her face. Valreth smiled. Valreth stood tall, easily six or seven handspans taller than the average Alnasae man. He had a pale, flawless complexion and pitch-black hair and eyes. His hair reached down to the small of his back. His posture and build radiated power. He was the perfect being.
Eternal Dusk: Dawnguard Description:
Taelien is a cripple. His magic is powerful, but he cannot project it beyond his own body. He must overcome this limitation.
Dae’shana is special: she possesses the element of Spirit. She wishes she did not have it. She must learn to control her rare power.
They are of the Pavardi, the proud followers of Anya. The Pavardi are cursed. A millenia ago they sinned and were blighted to hide eternally from the sun.
Taelien and Dae’shana must be vigilant. The dark forces of the god-emperor, Valreth, gather to strike at them and their people.
Go to richardisaak.com to read a preview of the first three chapters.
