Prologue

The Inner Earth Kingdom of Manthella

It had arrived. The day he’d been dreading was upon him. He could hear the whispers of onlookers lining the long passageway as he strode forth with his head held high. He refused to look at them for fear they might recognize the emotions he struggled to hide behind a stoic expression.

For want of volunteers, there’d been a lottery drawing and he’d lost. It was as simple as that. Now, he had to say good-bye to his home and loved ones for an indeterminable amount of time. Possibly forever.

His patriotic side kept reminding him that it was for the good of all that he goes on this mission. It may be for the good of his people, but, every so often, his self-serving side crept to the forefront and dissected the situation in hopes of coming up with reasons good enough to justify the fact that he was risking his life. It was his opinion that there were other ways of accomplishing what needed to be done without sending a single soul on a mission such as this.

From where he stood, it didn’t seem beneficial to send him to earth’s surface to confer with the surface-human leaders. He could see nothing but heartache and loss coming his way from such a venture. After all, he was no diplomat with a savvy tongue. He was military; trained to solve problems head on and with force, if necessary. Yet, here he was, on his way to do his best to communicate with the surface people to reason with them about their abuse of the planet’s resources and the repercussions from it that they all stood to suffer.

He’d argued that the mission would be better served if the lottery was amongst the scientists and engineers instead of the military, but to no avail. King Edgar worried about the ability his scientists and engineers would have in dealing with the aggressive nature they’d witnessed in humans. Not to mention the perils of passing through the land of the meta-naturals. He was convinced that it was a job for someone with military training. Preferably, someone who’d proven himself worthy of a high station. After years of arduous active duty, Tristan was just that person. King Edgar was so pleased when the lottery was drawn that Tristan couldn’t help wondering if it was rigged.

“You have had three months to prepare for your mission, Tristan,” bellowed King Edgar’s deep voice from the throne he’d positioned at such a high elevation as to allow him to look down upon the room instead of just a subject. “I assume that was sufficient.”

Tristan knelt before his king with his head bowed low. Three months was certainly not enough time for him to learn the scientific gargle being tossed at him from all directions. Nowhere near enough; but he couldn’t and wouldn’t admit that to his king and all the onlookers. So, with an air of confidence that he didn’t feel, he said, “It was, your majesty.”

“Good.” The king leaned against the back of his throne with a satisfied smile. “Let us get you into the vessel and on your way.”

“Wait!” shouted the all too familiar voice of Myriana. His chest contracted with guilt at the pain and loss that her tone so clearly displayed. “I must say good-bye. You cannot deny me that, father.”

With brows knitted together in deep displeasure, King Edgar reminded his daughter that he could do as he pleased. Myriana stood proud and tall as she struggled to free herself from the restraints two guards had on her while she boldly locked eyes with her father. After a moment of intense silence, he motioned for his guards to release her.

“Be quick about it,” he grumbled. “The vessel is ready to go and is using up fuel as we speak. The amount of energy needed to get him safely to the earth’s surface has been calculated. If he runs out before he reaches it and is stuck in the land of the meta-naturals, we will have you to blame.”

Since Tristan visited this land on more than one military assignment, he knew very well the risks that awaited him there. Avoiding being stranded in such a place was top on his list.

“It is not fair,” Myriana whispered as she wrapped him in a tight hug.

“I will be back soon,” he whispered. “You will see.”

“If you are not back in thirty sun rotations, I am coming for you,” she said firmly.

“I will be back,” he said with conviction.

“The humans are so dangerous,” she whimpered as she hugged him close. “I cannot stand the thought of losing you.”

“I will be back,” he said once more as he gently untangled her arms from around his neck and pushed her far enough away to be able to look into her amber eyes. “Now, say good-bye and let me go before the fuel supply is compromised.”

Tears flowed down her cheeks as she kissed his lips and vowed, once again, that, if he didn’t return within the time allotted, she would come for him. He gave her one last hug and, with his head held high and his back straight, walked toward the vessel. When he reached the entrance, he turned to look at her. With a wan smile and a tiny wave, he disappeared into the long, cigar shaped shuttle that would take him to the earth’s surface; a place he’d never been nor had the desire to go to.

He settled himself into the control seat as the door closed behind him and stared at the panel of complicated equipment. He was at the mercy of the engineers who operated everything remotely. Of course, he was required to understand how to manually maneuver the shuttle on the off chance something went awry, and he’d have to take over. With such superior engineers at the helm, the odds of that happening were next to nil.

He settled into the seat and buckled up just in time before centrifugal force pinned him in place as the shuttle took off at an unimaginable speed.

With nothing to do but wait, he allowed his mind to wander. He thought about the times he’d gone on missions to help bring order amongst the meta-naturals in middle earth. He pulled back the sleeve of his one piece traveling suit to view the scar that was a never-ending reminder of the battle that almost ended him. If it hadn’t been for Myriana, it very well may have. She was a tough warrior who he was always happy to fight beside.

He regretted letting things get as far as they had between them. It started out innocently enough. He was grateful to her for leading her troops in infiltrating the prison that held him and his comrades under the harshest of conditions. So, he expressed it by offering his gratitude, friendship, and loyalty. What he hadn’t offered, but what she clearly assumed was part of the menu, was his love. By the time he realized her feelings for him, he had no idea how to break it to her that he didn’t reciprocate them. Like a coward, he held his feelings to himself and did what was necessary to avoid being intimate with her; which would only raise her expectations even higher.

He would have thought that after several years of the cat and mouse game he played, she would have become frustrated with things and moved on, but she held firm to her illusion of love and he, in turn, remained the coward who would tell her no different.

He couldn’t explain why he didn’t love Myriana. She was beautiful, fit, strong, a solid leader, and the daughter of his king. What’s not to love? Yet, something deep inside of him resisted not just love with her, but love with anyone. It was as if he was saving himself for someone. But, who?

He saw her in his dreams sometimes. The vision was never clear, but it was enough for him to get glimpses of her waist length copper hair, petite frame, and creamy skin. Copper hair was unheard of among his people, so he couldn’t imagine where she was from. The petite frame was also an anomaly. His people tended to be tall and strong boned. As for her creamy complexion, well, his people were ruddier with their looks, but creamy skin wasn’t unthinkable. He guessed he’d meet her when he ventured into other parts of inner-earth. Perhaps during one of the peace festivals that were held between participating kingdoms. That would explain the difference in body makeup and coloring.

The unexpected jolt as the shuttle came to an abrupt halt ripped him from his thoughts. Had he not been seat belted in, he’d have been tossed from the chair. He quickly worked the controls to allow him to get an idea of what was happening.

“Tristan,” said a controller over the intercom, “are you alright?”

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“We’re looking into it,” the voice replied. “Your fuel supply is still intact. We believe there is something blocking you.”

“It was an abrupt stop,” Tristan grumbled. “Have I reached the surface?”

“From what we can tell, you are still subterranean, but close,” the intercom said.

“Close does not count,” Tristan mumbled. His dark eyes grew even darker with aggression as he asked, “Am I in meta-natural territory?”

After a long silence, the controller said, “We are not certain, but it is possible.”