The Sons of Sera: The Ruins of D'lanor [Fan Fic] [Chapter 6 Released!]
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The sun of Sera beat down across the city of D’lanor; its light glimmered off the elegant buildings that filled the skyline. The streets of the D’lanor were full with bustling car, crowds of people heading to and from work, subway trains traveling to their predetermined destinations. It was a grand site to be seen and one of the first signs that life was beginning to return to normal, or at least what people would consider normal after ninety years of war and desolation. This grandiose city had been a deserted wasteland only tens years prior and now it was almost back to its former glory. Though there were still scars left, which were visible from miles away, so latter generations would not forget what once took place in this serene state.
Today was a day a marked for remembrance, thousands began to journey towards Memorial Square to gain a viable position for the coronation of the new leader of the People’s Republic of Sera. He was not their first choice to be the leader but he had filled the position of Arbiter well, as the new government was beginning to form after the overthrow of the Coalition of Organized Governments. Though he was young in age, his wisdom and tactical skill was among the highest in the region, but even with all his knowledge, many knew that he would never supersede the vast knowledge of his long since past mentor and friend.
This young man stood looking out from the parapet that was overlooking the memorials dedicated to the Forgotten people of Sera, that either died or were lost during Emergence Day and the Day of Dawn. He could see thousands beginning enter in from the Southern Gates and starting to take seats in the luscious green gardens that surrounded the memorials. He turned and stepped back inside the small office were he had been preparing his coronation speech.
The small room where he was dwelling was ill equipped for man of his rank and stature but it he did not mind. He rather enjoyed the dullness that dwelt within the room; he approached towards a small oaken desk set before a stained glass window painted with seraphim and a mighty angelic host. He sat down began to slowly reread over his speech, looking to make any last minute changes or corrections before he had to descend to lower levels of the church. He could hear the meticulous clicking of the hanging wall clock, his gaze began draw towards it, as he saw the time, a soft knock came from the door.
“Sir, it is time to begin the ceremony.” A soft sensuous voice fluttered through the cracks in the doorframe, “Are you ready?”
“I am, but I need to make a stop before I address the people, Angie if you could? Stall or have Johnson begin the coronation ceremony until I arrive at the doors to the church. I won’t be long but I need this closer before, I take leadership.”
Behind the door she smiled as a small tear fell from her face, “I understand, I will try to ‘stall’ as long as possible, but try not to take to long the people maybe become suspicious of their new President.”
He rose from his chair and collected his belongings, when he turned back to the door and muttered, “Thank you,” he bent down to collect the rest of his things as he heard footsteps descending quickly away from his loft. He clasped shut his briefcase and walked over to a small tailor’s mirror next to the door to glance over his appearance. His grey suit had been pressed, cleaned, and tailored to fit his slender lean body, although his tie was a little offset at first, it was no long noticeable. His fair skin was clean and accented by his small brown and graying goatee that covered his chin, his curly dirty blonde hair was slicked back and parted almost perfectly.
He gazed once more over his appearance and then stared deeply into his reflections soft blue eyes, they were peaceful and full of truth; his eyes could calm and break the most evil of hearts. Something in his eyes showed the depths and emotions of his soul, many people believed that it was one of the reasons that he won the election and was so trusted. Only if people knew what his eyes had seen, they might have thought differently.
He tugged down on the front of his blazer and began to breathe heavily; he knew his life was about to change as soon as he crossed the vestibule but there was no point in staying in this room for eternity. He opened the door and began to walk slowly down the stone spiral staircase; his focus shifted towards his speech. Several moments passed before he realized that he was almost at the end of his descent. He could hear strong voices echoing up the vaulted ceilings, as he reached the base, he caught sight of a few well-dressed soldiers.
After clearing the stairwell, he began to walk towards two burley soldiers, one of which was fair skinned and covered with multiple tattoos and other strange designs, and the other was darker skinned, there was heavy scarring covering his raw complexion. Both men stood erected, waiting for him to approach; as he did smirks began to grow across their faces.
“Sir, we are ready to protect and severe, I mean serve,” stated the darker soldier, “Excuse my Sirs, I’ve been um…”
“Drinking again? Johnson, for Christ’s sake, you are supposed to open the coronation and you are a freaking blubbering like a drunken sailor after six months at sea! Jones, please tell me that you haven’t been drinking too?”
He smiled, “Of I haven’t, I’m just not awake yet. Someone had to make sure Johnson didn’t run anyone off the road last night after he decided to loosen up for today’s big event. Don’t worry about it Angie is going to open the ceremony instead of this idiot, it took three of us to drag him out of the cruiser.” He placed his hand on his commander’s shoulder and signaled Johnson to head out to the coronation, “How are you doing? Are you ready for this?”
He shook his head, “No, I seriously wish that there was someone else for this job, I could barely arbitrate the government after we overthrew the Coalition. I just wish that he was here with me to do this.”
Jones gripped his commander’s shoulder tighter and began to lead him out of the back of the church, “You know why he appointed you over the rest of us, right?” the young commander shook his head, “it was because you were full of ideas on how we could to make this world better, even though you never realized it. He had more faith in you than Johnson, Angie, or even me; he knew you wouldn’t sway back and forth like the branches of a willow, you have learned to follow the voice of the people over those of your closest friends and colleagues.”
They stepped through the northern archway and began to head towards a small mausoleum situated away from the rest of the memorials. A soft breeze blew across the green fields of trees, grass; the breeze brought a new sense of serenity to the pair as the journeyed towards the mausoleum. As they reached the locked gates, tears began to well in Jones’ and his commander’s eye, the commander looked up at the words inscribed over the entrance,
“Here lies three, men of honor, valor, and courage. May all remember the sacrifice they paid, may their last words echo throughout time. ‘We are the Sons of Sera, may these words spurn the wicked and reverberate in the hearts of the righteous, we won’t go quietly into the night, may what we do tonight be remembered for eternity, for SERA!’ As their shouts went silent, our freedom rose from the depths. Those who enter, do so in awe of their achievements and not their failures.”
Jones stepped forward and used his key to open the gates, a soft musk sailed through the gates as it opened towards them. Both men entered into a vacant hallway guarded by statues of Nephilim, undersized skylights allowed only the smallest amount of light to penetrate the darkness. As they walked through the corridor to the main hall, both men bowed their heads in reverence and adoration of the hero’s that graced the halls, at the end of the hall was a solid oak and iron covered door, protecting the final resting place of Sera’s greatest heroes.
Jones moved to open the doors and as he did, a slew of unearthed emotions began to burst forth from his commander. As the doors swung slowly open, they could see three statues that shaped in almost perfect replicas of that of their maters. A triad of lights shown brilliantly on each of the monuments, each encrusted with powerful brazen gaze that could bring shame to even the most holy souls. But in their eyes there was a mysterious peace about them, Jones slowly began to read their names,
“Victor Hoffman, I was glad to see he finally came to his sense even though it was at the end, General Edward Allen Duran greatest soldier that ever walked the face of Sera, and last but no least, “The Lone One”. Only if he could see how you turned out today, he would have been so proud of you Jacen,”
Jacen’s gaze rose as tears quelled and poured down to the floor, “He said he would always be there, but even he couldn’t cheat death a fourth time. The fates had his number written and there was no better way for him to leave this world than in a blazing chariot of blood and fire. He worked so hard and yet he never saw the fruits of his labor, I will give him a due place of honor today and I will never forget the Sons of Sera.” He pulled up his right sleeve to reveal the insignia of their old disbanded coalition; memories began to flood the forefront of his mind as Jones interrupted,
“I thinks it’s time for all to hear the tale of the Sons of Sera,” he bent down next to his friend and hugged his cradled body, “Come on Jacen, we’re running late, its times to get you and this government coroneted. And remember, Lone is always watching,” Jacen slowly rose to his feet and turned to leave, as he was about to close the solid oak doors he utter his last words at their graves,
“It’s time to tell world what really happened, time to end one tale and begin another, and time to start again.” The door slammed shut behind them leaving the halls in darkness except for a small light that shown on the statue of the Lone One.
Last edited by WaldoRtk7; 02-11-2012 at 11:52 PM.