Palace Walls

Part One

He awoke from horrible dreams. Dreams of becoming King, with his arms and forehead anointed in the Goddess' "Blood" for the Throne, as she lay rotting in a solid-gold sarcophagus. Dreams of soft gold skulls and the sharp fangs of silver sickles. Dreams of mouths with blood foaming like crushed roses. Of time hiding behind him, driving an ice-cold blade through his blazing heart. He awoke with icy sweat clinging to his warm brow. He awoke to a white-gray sky battered with bruise-brown clouds. It fell so low, it was like the world closing in on him. His stomach coiled into sour twists. Should I tell her? No. Never. He awoke to an escape gentler than any sleep.

Any palace is extravagant, but the Humble Blossom palace complex glittered like snow in the pale moonlight. Its ivory walls were carved with crumbling roses and grapes, as bright gold thinly braided the yawning doors. It was as old and indomitable as the power it held.

The human closed her eyes, mentally re-reading the text about Queen Clotilda Hua: Each crisis seemed to crumble in her hands. They glided across her palms like a cool evening breeze, brushing against the warm face of earth. They drifted into the endless blue-black night, unaware of the hearts they broke. Well, that could be true. But since our human absorbed celebrity gossip like air (even carrying a magazine into the palace), she knew that not every "fact" was true. Then again, the wildest of facts often proved the truest.

She shuddered as the ivory doors flew open. The palace yawned, looming like a tired, glowing goddess. Her heart pounded as she stepped foot onto the glossy marble floor, the thin crimson carpet. The two blue-uniformed guards who opened the doors bowed to their knees.

"Thank you, sirs," the human said, curtsying,

"The pleasure is ours," one replied, "That Chronoliqueur must've knocked you out!"

"Nah. Time travel's easy once you get the hang of it."

"Good luck. And I hope to travel one day."

The human held her breath. It had been a while since she'd seen a giant up close, and this height situation took some getting used to. This was even worse, she thought, since the males were thirty-nine feet tall, while the females towered a foot higher. Even the cave-born Cyclopes servants seemed horrifying, at their relatively "petite" thirty feet.

"Let's take you to the throne room," the other said, "Her Majesty's expecting you."

Two dark wooden doors opened to a wide room bursting with loud laughter and blindingly bright colors. It glowed with ancient oil paintings and pink-glass bowls of exotic fish. The human bit her lip. She'd never seen so many courtiers in her life, especially not once this size, dressed this opulently-- swollen with jewels and furs. Even the short Cyclops wet-nurses wore glittery emerald earrings as Jotun babies drank from their huge, round breasts. Lutes and drums thundered through the air. Cyclops jesters and acrobats tumbled in one rowdy corner. Female court dancers gyrated around handsome men, as various nobles drank, talked, and played hjess on red-and-black checkered boards. They moved the pieces with their mind, seemingly gliding on their own. Fluffy dogs barked and circled the room. Colorful parrots chirped from noblemen's silken shoulders.

They look so happy, the human thought, Too happy. I hope they're ready for this.

"Her Majesty's ready, Miss," the guard whispered.

"Thanks again," the human replied, still stunned by the gaudy wealth of the room. No wonder they call their country Splendora!