Diana Veneris
Sword of Mercy
E S H A N

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"Murder! There's been a murder! Draygar of House Veneris is dead!"
"It was his niece--the sorceress!"
"Don't let her get away! Hurry, before she kills us all!"
"She ran down that alley!"
"After her, men!"
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A crimson sunrise was breaking over Eshan when the clamor of voices rang out into the street. The voices were angry, frightened, and soon every door and window within shouting distance was flung open, bewildered residents peering out into the early morning light. The silhouettes of five strong Echani men stood out against the glow of the horizon, their chalk-white skin shining like marble, vibroswords drawn high above their silvery heads. The intricate insignia that gleamed proudly over the heart of their uniformed tunics would tell everyone that these men were soldiers, the prized jewels of warrior-centric Eshan. Their pale faces smoldered with fury. One of them, clearly the leader, stepped forward.
"Children of Eshan!" The officer bellowed. "There is a witch among us!" There were gasps, followed by nervous, confused chatter that rose over the street like a buzzing wave. Mothers ushered curious children back indoors, fathers reached for their blades.
"You know this witch!" The officer continued, surveying his audience, a look of intermingled contempt and satisfaction writ plain across his features. "She has been living here under your noses, in exile, for years! Do you not remember the death of Tristophan and Iona Veneris? Do you really believe that such a fearsome warrior, and such a noble politician, died in a freak house fire? Their daughter was born with strange and wicked powers . . . you have all witnessed or heard tell of her sorcery."
The onlookers exchanged meaningful glances, but the officer did not wait for them to respond. "You, Baelon!" The officer pointed a long finger toward an older man standing in the doorway of his home. "What happened to your children the day that Tristophan and Iona Veneris died?" The man named Baelon swallowed hard, turning his eyes toward the ground. "They . . . went to the medic bay," Baelon replied, quietly at first, then gaining momentum. "The Veneris girl . . . she snapped. I've never seen anything like it. Blew our home to pieces with a single glance. I nearly lost my sons."
"I remember," The officer murmured, nodding sagely before lifting his voice once more. "Diana Veneris is a cataclysmic force of nature whose powers cannot be controlled. I believe that she killed her parents all of those years ago--that she would have killed the sons of Baelon--and I believe that at dawn this morning, she murdered her uncle. Draygar's blood runs fresh down the halls of House Veneris as I speak!"
"Where is the girl now?" A woman's voice called out abruptly from a window high above. "Our children are not safe while she roams free!"
"Our forces are hunting her down this very moment," The officer replied, the faint glimmer of a smirk curling slowly across his lips. "We will not rest until we do what we should have done long ago--we will not rest until the witch is dead!"
With a great rallying cry, and nothing more, the soldiers turned and plunged forward in hot pursuit.
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"Come, Nairobi--there isn't time!"Diana Veneris knelt to the earthen floor of some long-forgotten alley and opened the mouth of her rucksack, extending it forward as if in prayer. A small, white loth-cat with amber eyes pounced out of the shadows and leapt inside, mewling insistently at Diana as she yanked closed the strings of the leathery bag and threw it over her back. For a moment, the delicate girl remained kneeling as she squeezed shut her eyes, counting each heavy rise and fall of her chest and simply . . . breathing. She had done the unthinkable. She had purchased her freedom from her tyrannous uncle with his own life. Draygar was dead. For eighteen long years--since she was orphaned at the age of four--the man had ruled over her like a slavemaster. He had been afraid of her, and now Diana understood why. Diana was afraid of herself.
"Sorceress!"
Diana's golden head snapped to attention. At the end of the alley, stood a wall of steel-faced soldiers. Fear dropped heavy and cold into the pit of her stomach, washing over her body in a hideous wave of adrenaline that demanded fight or flight--that demanded survival. She attempted to rise, but her knees nearly buckled beneath her own petite weight. There was no escape. There was no escape at all.
"Quick, men--she's dangerous! Seize her at once!"
The soldiers rushed forward with their weapons drawn, and all Diana could do was stumble backward like a helpless doe in a thicket, legs trembling and round eyes wild. "Please . . . I'm not a sorceress!" She might have cried through the tumult, but it did not matter. They were closing in on her now . . . Diana fell hard against the dead-end wall of the alley, crumbling to the earth in a billow of silken robes.
"Diana Veneris," The officer growled, stepping forward and brandishing the pointed end of his vibrosword at the hollow of her swan throat. "You will answer for your crimes of murder and of witchcraft with your life. Do you have any final words?"
Diana curled against the wall like a fallen angel, the crowning glory of her moon-white curls splayed wildly around the curve of her pale shoulders, which shook like broken wings. Slowly, she turned her cheek to gaze up at her would-be executor. From beneath thick lashes, her eyes shone brilliantly with tears, but they no longer bore their crystal blue color. They had changed to an unsettling violet. Something inside of her was brewing, and she was helpless to keep it at bay.
It happened in an instant.
Without lifting a finger . . . without raising a hand . . . without meaning to at all, a burst of Force-driven power exploded forth Diana as if driven by a bottled-up storm. The violent surge of energy sent two of the soldiers soaring clear through the air to slam against the far opposite wall; the aftershock brought two more to their knees. The only one who remained standing was the officer himself. "Little witch!" He snarled, and made to bring the wicked curve of his blade down onto Diana. The girl cried out, and for a moment . . . the whole world seemed to stand still.
[member="Siobhan Kerrigan"]