The Legend of Taarna
rilliant stars set in a field of jet illuminated the bedchamber. Their cold light shone down through an oculus in the ceiling, bathing a slab-like rectangle directly below in a shaft of silvery, bluish light. On the narrow bed, Taarna dreamed.
The periphery of the circular room was steeped in shadows. Hidden in the gloom at intervals between four oval windows were the accouterments of a Spartan life: a chest; a washstand; a tall, cylindrical wardrobe; and a small altar, built into a niche in the wall. The stone walls were blue-green in color, plain and smooth.
The still silence of the bedchamber was broken by a low rumbling sound which grew louder and changed in pitch. For a brief moment an eerie green light swept through the room from the ceiling windows, making a shining track across the walls and floor as an object moved through the night sky overhead.
Taarna stirred, but did not awaken. On her face, half hidden by a sheet, a frown briefly darkened her tranquil features.