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Author of 27 Stories |
Nemesis Memory
By RaistlinofMetallica
"Father, why does the Empress wish to see us?" the teenager asked, nervously checking his robes for dust and looking for wrinkles in the dark fabric.
The man, swathed in black robes trimmed with silver, sighed and ran a hand through his pale blonde hair, the same exact colour of his son's. "I do not know. She has left us wizards alone for centuries, as according to the treaty made by the King and Emperor Hyperion. Be on your best behaviour, Dragon."
"Yes, father," the teenager responded. He raised his silver eyes and examined the doors before them. "I've never been to the moon."
His father smiled, shaking his head as he attempted to hide a chuckle. "Nor have I, son. Wizarding folk aren't normally allowed to go to the moon. The Empress does not like our kind."
"Why? What is she afraid of?" Dragon asked, looking at his father. "It's not like we have half as much power as the Empress or even her underlings, for that matter! We're only wizards!"
The man shook his head, closing his identical silver eyes. "We can see through the spells she weaves, my son. She is afraid of what we can see."
The doors suddenly opened, revealing a plain white room. Arcane symbols and planet symbols covered the floor.
"Morning Star and Dragon," a technician said, seeming to appear from the whiteness of the room. "Please enter. We're ready for you."
The man and his son quickly entered the white room, two black-swathed figures in the brightness. The doors closed behind them, blending into the walls seamlessly.
"Please step on the gold crescent, both of you," the technician said, indicating a rather large golden crescent on the floor. "It's not often we get wizards going to the moon. Must be an important affair if the Empress wants wizards there."
Morning Star raised an eyebrow and regarded the technician warily. "We wizards are no Truth-Sayers, but we have our purpose. As do you, I suppose?"
"Step on the crescent, please," the technician snapped.
The son glared at his father and stepped onto the crescent. The man sighed and stepped onto the crescent as well. He gave his son a small frown.
"Please enjoy your trip to the moon," the technician said, waving his hand over a symbol on the wall. There was a loud humming noise and a bright light filled the room.
Everything went white.
The train lurched, indicating its stop at the station. He opened his grey eyes slowly and looked out the window, into the darkness. The moon hung in the sky, silent and almost opalescent. He raised his hand and touched the smooth glass. "I've never been to the moon," he murmured sleepily.
"Draco! Come on!" a girl shouted from the door, smiling brightly as she passed by.
The teenager sighed and pushed himself to his feet slowly. He stretched like a cat and started out the door, running a hand through his pale blonde hair.