Unexpected indigos and strange warm greys smudged the moonlit sky. Unrecognizable eerie sounds and haunting wails floated through the air. This desert certainly held no beauty the way Elishevera’s gardens had.

She imagined the land the way it once was.

Wild flowers speckled fields of moss and heather, marked by patches of quack grass and purple clover. Copses of thin tall trees with angular canopies of brown and gold needles dotted the veld, home to a relentless chorus of chirrups, tweets, and buzzings. Leathery purple vines crept over tree and ground, and occasionally tried to bridge the many streams and rivers meandering in and around the great temple at Elishevera.

A sprawling temple, constructed with pale granite, clay, and egg stone circumscribed the flower beast. Within these walls, an inner sanctum of pink marble glowed beneath the sun. Through the generations, additional rooms created a second floor and then a third. When the foundation could no longer support the weight of a forth level, they dug down into the ground, carving out subterranean caverns which became vast libraries and treasuries.

Ule smiled at the memory of splashing in warm water within the temple’s inner courtyard, marvelling at how it soothed her body. Elishevera had always offered a fleshy petal as either a diving platform or a slide. Now, the creature’s joy and vitality, her calmness and grace, the soft murmur of her thoughts had vanished.

A pang shot through Ule’s heart. She hadn’t thought anything had gone wrong while creating the world. Her power and sensitivity had still been developing during adolescence, and she expected that if there had been errors, her Master would have discovered them while scanning her mind after her release from Isolation.

His examination of the world was lengthy and thorough as well. He made no admonishment of her interaction with devotees or the psychic link with Elishevera. He simply told her to let the Mystics be, that perhaps with a little more time their connection with the flower beast would eventually cease.

Again, her Master proved himself correct. No evidence remained of Priests or Mystics residing at a temple in the desert. Centuries of wind and sand storms had either buried or worn away the ancient place into a fine dust.

Dull sand littered with chiselled grey rocks and boulders offered little inspiration, even less so beneath the shadow of night. The strange, dark green prickly plants of the wasteland depressed her.

“How long has this rudeness endured?” She glared at the horizon and reflected on the shift in her mood. At the beginning of the day, she had gone from yearning to be in this world to wishing she were home again. Any further attempts at ascending proved futile, and she suddenly felt trapped.

Understanding the elusive An Energy seemed the only way to return home, she thought, and then she tried to recall all the adjustments she had made to the world.

She had destroyed a chasm that had torn through the Root Dimension and threatened to breach her realm. She had added additional veins of iron to the world’s core to increase the magnetic field and prevent the atmosphere from leaking into their realm. And finally, she infused a barrier into the planet as a safeguard.

She shivered at the thought that she might have misunderstood or misinterpreted Ibe’s instructions, which might explain the An Energy’s odd behaviour.

“It doesn’t make any sense,” she muttered to herself. “I did ascend… but just a little bit.”

Beneath the dark of night, a thought became illuminated. She needed to figure out what prevented her from ascending, and to do that she needed help from someone who sensed certain energies the way the Mystics had long ago.

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The Forgotten Gemstone, Book One in A Xiinisi Trilogy

© Kit Daven & Eager Eye Books, 2013.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any matter whatsoever without permission in writing from the author, except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review or critical article.

This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, situations, and references portrayed in this story either fictitious or are used fictitiously.

Cover art by Sean Chappell, RedFracture.com.