Queen of Caelum with the first chapter of Sylvia (the 2nd book in the Children of the Myth Machine series)
Queen of Caelum
(Children of the Myth Machine)
I stand inside the thin-layered canvas tent of the Queen of Caelum, enthralled.
She is draped over the crimson cushioning of an elegant throne chair with her chin resting leisurely in her right palm. Her head tilts, so that her long yellow hair parts to show her welcoming smile and sparkling, green eyes. The runes of a gold circlet are just visible under her bangs. I follow the flow of her hair over her shoulders where the tips partially cover a parakeet green bikini top. Between her breasts I see the symbol of a circle with four hooks that end in ellipses. Looking lower at her incredibly toned abdomen I blink from the glow of the brilliant ruby that hides her belly button.
Daring to look even lower I see a short gold sash with strands of pearls covering her naval. A translucent lime green skirt hides nothing of her extremely toned thighs.
“You are here to capture Thrain?” she asks in a noble voice full of charm.
“Yes,” I reply, trying not to stare at the brilliant ruby in her bellybutton as she adjusts her lithe body to a more upright position.
The Queen’s image so overwhelms me I do not at first notice the muscular female guard to her right. The guard’s keen grey eyes watch over me while her seductive lips stay in the shape of a constant smirk. Her raven hair is knotted like a ship’s rope and drapes over her left shoulder so the fringes lead my right eye to a thin sapphire leather bra that barely covers her glistening bosom. My right eye flicks up and I see her staring at me with a bemused grin. I glance back down to the studded leather shorts that hardly conceal her powerful thighs and the thin black belt, from which a simple sheath holds a scimitar.
Strapped to her left calf and sheathed in fish skin I see a curved dagger with a simple globe-shaped pommel. Unlike her Queen, she wears sandals with padded soles for speedy movement over any terrain.
I feel a brush of warm air as the tent’s flap opens behind me. The Queen’s guard’s smirk turns into a beaming smile. A massive presence moves behind me and to the left side of the Queen’s throne chair.
A bald man with bulging muscles nods towards me. Poking above his head is a silver coloured pommel in the shape of a creature similar to a lion but with bull horns that glint in the light. I imagine the sword that rests against his broad back to be long and thick considering the criss-crossing straps across his bulging chest. He wears a Roman skirt and I presume he wears a loin cloth underneath. Belted to his left calf is an identical dagger to the female guard’s but longer.
Turning her perfect head towards her left the Queen asks the massive warrior, “Have you found Thrain’s lair, Tylo?”
“I have, Your Highness,” Tylo replies in a deep voice as soft as distant thunder. His brown eyes never leave me as he speaks. “In the cavern of the dead volcano Rommell, Thrain continues to sell the transgenetic clones to slave nations.” I do not miss the anger in his voice at the mention of human clones mixed with different species.
“This is Terren Foe of the Galactic Children of Myth Bureau,” the Queen says as she stares at me with those dazzling eyes. I cannot speak while she gazes at me, and she must know it, for she smiles before turning her attention back to Tylo.
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