From behind the king’s platform, a creature emerged slowly from the darkness. It took careful, measured steps as it steadily crossed The Commons, clearly aiming for his table. A pointed nod from Leap told him that this creature was Their Majesties’ honored guest, so Ash scooted his bench down, allowing the visitor room to position himself next to the king. As more Keepers noticed the guest’s arrival, they fell into silence, staring unashamedly at the magnificent turtle who stood beside King Obsidian.
He was large as box turtles go. Ash assumed he must be very old. His cheeks, neck, and throat were the color of a fiery dawn, made more vivid by the pulsing of his throat as he breathed. But it was his shell that appeared to grab everyone’s attention. A maddening array of patterns had been carved into the dome—circles within ovals, zigzags peppered with dots, diamonds within squares, all manner of geometric designs. And each groove of the carvings had been filled with dyes according to their shape—diamonds were blue, squares were burgundy, dots were white—so that the carvings and colors created a dazzling, intricate maze across the old turtle’s shell. And over all of this brilliant design, patches of plush, green moss grew, dangling and dripping from his shell so that it dragged the ground as he walked.
Ash couldn’t quite pinpoint the feeling he got when he looked at the turtle, but the old reptile had a presence that commanded respect. His very countenance breathed with the knowledge of the ancients. The turtle fairly oozed antiquity.
No comments:
Post a Comment