His name is Elianas.
Torrullin’s sanctuary is invaded by a desperate call through the spaces. Someone has stolen the Xenian seer Lowen Dalrish, and he suspects Agnimus, the draithen who nearly annihilated his world and then vanished without a trace.
Meanwhile three Valla heirs await the rising of the Valleur Throne; only one will be chosen as Vallorin. When a prophecy is uncovered about Three Kingdoms and rumours of an army secretly building to prevent it, Torrullin realises the three heirs to the Throne are in danger, for the warmongers believe he will carve out three kingdoms, one for each heir.
It is time to deploy Nemesis, the mighty blade forged of two, of both darak and lumin.
CHAPTER 10
… it’s a shoot of grass … how extraordinary …
~ Tattle
OF
THE ANCIENT RACES four remained.
Oldest was Quilla of the Q’lin’la,
singular, but his race came through a rift from another universe and was
therefore not endemic. Oldest of this universe were the Valleur. Once close to
extinction, once beyond this reality for survival, they were again many and
regarded universally as the most powerful people. Then there were the Senlu of
Luvanor - Grinwallin in particular - and they endured ninety million years of
abeyance to arise anew to a new time, a second chance at life. Declan of the
Siric, singular, was between the Valleur and Senlu, but his span of years put
him second only to Quilla. His race was not the oldest in the universe, but he
was second in age.
There was another who held the
status of an Ancient and he was likely older than the Siric, but he was not of
one race; he was a mixture of messes. His name was Agnimus, part human, part
darkling, part Drinic and part Valleur, and Declan was commanded to find this
strange and dangerous individual. Agnimus was the instrument of destruction on
Valaris twenty-five years ago. It forced Torrullin to do something so terrible
in defence, he turned his back on his homeworld.
In the aftermath Agnimus escaped to
places unknown, knowing too much about his past, and the latter made him more
dangerous still. That knowledge alone could bite at the Valleur, Valaris,
Luvanor, and Torrullin specifically. However, Agnimus made no move or sound in
the intervening years and no trace of his presence was found, and yet, if a
name was put to the source of rumour mongering it had to be Agnimus.
If he was not the source, he would
know who was.
Nemisin’s
World
DECLAN
ALIGHTED ON the ridge once the site of
Nemisin’s mountain palace, he who was First Father to the Valleur, first
Vallorin and first Enchanter. This world had long been dead, a world avoided
for its killing deserts and extreme heat, and was now made new, a promise
Saska, wife to Torrullin and the previous Lady of Life, made to herself.
It was a promise she kept, for
herself, for Torrullin, and because she thought it imperative to the manner in
which the Valleur were viewed universally. She prevailed upon her successor,
the Lady Lily, to bring her renewal talents to bear on a sterile world, and
Lily, challenged, achieved a wondrous miracle. Xenian scientists helped, as
well as biologists from other worlds, and Nemisin’s world today shone as a
green jewel in space.
Declan ambled to the edge of the
ridge and peered down.
Once rock, sand and nothingness
shimmered in the heat below; now he stared in awe over a vast green plain,
grasses waving in benign temperature, and in the distance the tell-tale glint
of a broad watercourse. Massive trees dotted the landscape and there were wild
animals grazing where before there was no life, not even a microscopic bug. It
would never be jungle, this world, not even a forest, but it was so green it
hurt, and the wild expanses of glorious silence beckoned a visitor to peace.
Huge mountain ranges were purpled by
distance and were no longer hot rocks of sterility; they hosted lakes and
waterfall, great birds and scrub a-flower all year. As was the mountain he
stood upon. As far as the eye could see there were flowers, low grass and
trickles of fresh, clean water. The cries of eagles, falcons, hawks, owls,
ospreys and many others sounded far off, and filled the silence with music.
He stared up. The sky was sapphire
blue, the sun a bright disc overhead. It seemed unlikely it could rain here -
and had not for thousands of years - yet water there was on the fertile plains
and gathered in the embrace of the mountains. He knew, for Saska told him, this
world had two seasons, both generally hot; one was dry, the other wet. He now
spied roiling thunderclouds on the horizon and realised it heralded a
thunderstorm, but perhaps it would not travel this far before releasing its
load. It was not yet the wet season.
The cool mountain abodes were
reopened, shored up, excavated where necessary; the entrance lay before Declan.
According to Saska, and that was ten years ago, the palace in the mountains
required years of labour to restore to former glory, but the attempt was in
progress, and she chose to live on the site of the renovations. Five years ago,
she sent Lily away to her other duties, for the planet achieved a state of
self-sustenance, and proceeded to concentrate her energy on the world inside
the mountain. Caballa, he heard, joined her. Perhaps there were others now.
He crossed the ridge, entered the
blessed cool and was astonished. He expected darkness and found mural walls, a
tinkling fountain, and plants healthy in lovely urns. Pebbles shone through the
water of the fountain akin to jewels.
Beyond were more chambers - one
could not call them caverns - and each was as welcoming and attractive. Bridges
spanned canals filled with cold mountain water and the tinkle of liquid bliss
was everywhere. Lifelike, painted renditions of creepers vied for space with
the real thing and in every hue of green one could imagine. Dainty roses
tumbled from beautiful urns, and daffodils and cornflowers spilled from verges
alongside the canals.
As Declan walked open-mouthed into
the palace that was older than he was, he discovered sunny courtyards, cool
squares, green lawns, bright ponds, more bridges, realised the canals teemed
with tiny, bright fishes, saw more flowers than he had seen in years of visits
to other worlds, and was utterly astounded.
He came to a halt in a large chamber
and stared up. Sunlight poured through open domes in the rock, but was filtered
by crisscrossing vines and creepers, and tiny birds flitted in and out of the
foliage. The stone underfoot was polished to mirror sheen and the walls
rendered in lifelike landscapes. He wanted to lie in its embrace forever. A
tear slid over his pale cheek and his wings quivered with emotion. It was true
haven. Torrullin would find peace here. This was a Throne-room for a god.
“Declan?” Saska’s voice, full of
surprise and pleasure.
He brought his emotions under
control, and smiled. Gods, she was beautiful and, damn, she suited this place.
Her bluish hair and emerald eyes blended with the coolness of the haven, like a
muse of this world. She wore a trailing, pale blue gown, and was a vision even
a blind man could appreciate.
“Saska!” Declan laughed and opened
his arms to her. He surprised even himself, for he was not generally given to
displays of affection.
She laughed and came into his arms
without reservation. They had known each other a long time. “It’s good to see
you, my friend,” she whispered, squeezing him, and then let go to wipe wet
cheeks. “Silly me, crying like a baby.”
Declan swallowed. “It is good to see
you.” He gestured around, to give both a chance to recover. “You have worked a
miracle.”
“I can’t take full credit,” she
smiled. “Not only did I have help, but this place seemed to take itself back to
what it was once attention was bestowed upon it. Caballa and I think it is part
of Nemisin’s legacy. And it is beautiful, isn’t it?”
“I do not have words,” Declan
murmured, and focused on her again. “You are more beautiful than I have ever
seen you, Saska. You are a vision and I believe it is this wondrous place that
gifts …” He blushed and looked away. “I do not know how to properly compliment
a woman anymore.”
She laid a cool hand on his burning
cheek. “Thank you.”
He smiled. “You belong here.”
A shadow flitted into her eyes, and
was gone. “Thank you.”
“He would see what I see.”
She forced a smile. “One day,
perhaps.” Then she was again the Saska who entered into his presence with
surprise and pleasure. She took his hand and tugged. “Come, I must show you
everything!”
Laughing, he allowed himself to be
led away. Inside, he called Torrullin the biggest fool in the universe.
“THIS
PLACE IS AMAZING,” she said as she led Declan around.
“There are kitchen areas, communal regions, suites, private gardens, libraries,
sport facilities, theatres …” She laughed. “You name it, it’s here! There was a
lot of debris to clear away at first, but the integrity of the chambers were
not undermined. A shore up here, a new beam there, but nothing we could not
handle. And once we began cleaning out cobwebs and the like and swept away
dust, we found these incredible murals and all manner of containers for plants
and, well, plants we put in! Then we discovered the canal system running
throughout the complex and it was simple enough to track it back to an
underground supply, which, by the way, fills up regularly and …”
“Whoa!” Declan exclaimed, laughing
at her enthusiasm. “Too much detail.”
“Sorry, it’s inspiring,” Saska
grinned. “We haven’t done more than restore what was, of course, and only
brought a few home comforts for the areas we occupy.” She was wistful. “This
place needs people, Declan, lots of them, and people bring and make their own
beautiful things to fill glorious surroundings. You know?”
“I do.”
“Anyway, it is ready.”
“An outstanding achievement. As a
matter of interest, did you uncover anything relating to Nemisin?”
“Yes, we did, and the Dragon
Neolone.”
“Really?” Declan paused and then
could not help it. “I would like to see that.”
She gave a rueful laugh. “I thought
as much. This way.”
Saska led him across a sunny
courtyard, through a cool chamber sporting an ornate fireplace, and on into a
library. There were no books, but the shelves were self-evident. They passed
through there and many others until she led him into a huge domed cavern. It
exuded the spiritual, and he came to a halt. Everything was of blue stone and
the floor was without seam or join. It was akin to entering a cathedral.
“We call it the Chamber of Biers.”
He saw why. In recesses high and
low, surrounding the entire space, were biers, each slotted neatly into
position, each of the same blue stone. The ancient Valleur dead, by god.
“We did nothing here,” Saska
whispered. “It was as it is now.”
Declan’s gaze was drawn to the
single bier resting in the exact centre of the cathedral cavern. “Nemisin?”
“Nemisin,” she confirmed, and
followed as he wandered over to it.
It was no different from the others.
The same incredible blue stone, the same simplicity, the cool sense of history.
Declan drew breath as he came to rest beside it. It looked as new now as it
must have then. Saska said not a word, allowing him to find his way to the
inscription, and when he found it he inhaled a sharpened breath. He bent over
it to be certain, but there was no doubt. First there was an engraved likeness
of Nemisin - his face and shoulders - and then came his name - flowing, formal
Valleur glyphs - and then the epitaph. Below that, another, in a different
hand. It was more roughly done, as if the inscriber hurried in his task.
“Gods,” he muttered. He lifted eyes
full of astonishment to Saska. “Am I seeing right?” She nodded. Declan was
drawn back to the bier. “I wonder if Torrullin has seen this?”
“I doubt it. The entrances were
blocked.”
“He need not have come in person. A
seer can see backwards also,” the Siric muttered, and did not see her shiver.
“Nemisin and Torrullin are like … twins. I wonder if that is why the Valleur
took him to their hearts? An unknown entity, a half-blood, the Vallorin? They
should have given him a hard time and yet he was one of them from the first
moment. Valleur memories, hmm?”
“Probably,” Saska murmured.
“’Here lies Nemisin, First Father
of the mighty Valleur, Vallorin, father, healer, enchanter, creator of the
Golden Throne. May our beloved rest in eternal peace.’” Declan looked up.
“These dates make no sense.”
“How long do you think he was
interred here?” Saska pointed out.
The Siric blanched. “Gods, that is
old.”
Saska quoted, “’Year 792 to 4999,
Epoch of the Dancing Suns’. He was over four thousand years old when he
died.”
“The Epoch of the Dancing Suns is
legendary and refers to the time when Time was yet to be counted,” Declan
whispered.
Saska gave a laugh. “The Valleur,
Masters of the Universe.”
“Deservedly so,” Declan muttered.
“And this rough scribble?”
“We suspect Neolone.”
He bent over it, intrigued. “’Here
lies the man of power who gave power to his descendants in a mighty symbiosis.
Revere his name, as you will revere the One to come.’” Declan whistled. It
was signed with a stylised ‘N’. It could only be the Dragon Neolone, who was in
symbiosis with Nemisin and then moved on to the son upon this father’s death,
until he reached Torrullin, the One. Neolone returned here to inscribe this for
future generations. “I wonder what the Valleur made of this particular codicil?”
“Ask Torrullin the seer,” Saska
muttered. Declan looked up. “Sorry. This place gives me the creeps. Can we go?”
Saska muttered.
The Siric nodded. She sighed and
left immediately, with Declan trailing out more slowly.
“IS
CABALLA WITH YOU?” he asked ten minutes later. He
gaped at every new and incredible sight.
“She comes and goes, but she is here
at present.” Saska was silent a few paces. “Do you think he knows we are here?”
“He knows.”
“Ah.” It was a pained sound.
“Saska …”
“It’s all right. Tell me, how is
Lowen?”
She just put him smack in the
middle. “Lowen is missing.”
Saska came to a dead stop. “She left
him?”
Declan stared at his feet, his
hands, arguing with himself. He should say nothing, but he liked and loved this
woman; Saska was once a Guardian, as he was, and was a friend. He looked up.
“They were never really together. If
they spent six months in each other’s company in the past twenty-five years, I
would be surprised.”
“That’s not good.”
“Very strange.”
“No, I meant it doesn’t bode well
for … reconciliation.”
The Siric was at a loss. “I am
sorry?”
“Gods, Declan, it means he hasn’t
got her out of his system, don’t you see that?”
He opened his mouth. Closed it.
“So, she did leave him?”
“Yes.”
“Good for her.” Saska grimaced.
“About ten years ago.”
“What?” Saska snapped, and then
paled. “Ten years … and nothing? Not a darkened doorway, for pity’s sake?” She
gave a wry snort. “What did I tell you? She’s not yet in his past.”
Now he did see what she meant; it
explained much. “She is missing, Saska, not just gone from him. Really missing.
The entire Kaval is mobilised to find her. That is why I am here.”
“The entire Kaval? How … caring … of
him.”
He understood her anger, but chose
to ignore it. “She is lost to Time. We suspect she was either coerced or fell
accidentally through a portal that took her back, but how far back, we do not
know.”
“He can do the time thing.”
“Where does he start? And when does
he go back to?”
Saska drew breath. “Oh.”
“Exactly. And at the same time, we
have heard disturbing rumours concerning Sanctuary, the Kaval and Torrullin. It
appears folk out there hear tales of a growing force on Sanctuary, one that
aims to carve out three kingdoms in the universe, one for each Valla heir.
Torrullin believes the two are linked. Lowen vanished because she knows
something about these rumours.”
“It wasn’t an accident, her
vanishing.”
Declan straightened. “Damn me … no.”
“I may want to scratch her eyes out,
but I want to. I wish her no other harm. She must be petrified
somewhere.” Saska frowned. “How could I help? I’m isolated here … ah, it’s
Caballa you seek.”
“No, it’s both of you.”
Saska shrugged. “Still don’t see how
I can help, and what is your mission exactly?”
Declan gave a grimace. “I am to find
Agnimus.”
“You’re joking!”
“I wish that were so.”
“Agnimus? Not only has he completely
disappeared, but how can he possibly help?”
“He is an Ancient. Torrullin
probably reckons he may know something about time shifts.”
“Or is behind it; I see.”
“There is that.”
“I know nothing of Agnimus’ whereabouts.”
“But maybe you found something here
to point the way. Agnimus is of Nemisin’s recalcitrance, and it may be hidden
in here.”
Saska shook her head and started
walking again. “Nothing on darklings, nothing on vengeful essences and nothing
on Nemisin’s enchantments either. This place is wholesome, except for the dead
and their biers.”
Declan sighed. “It was worth a try.”
“Caballa may have seen something in
her visions.”
“That is my hope, yes.”
Saska continued walking and both
were now blind to the beautiful surroundings. “Three kingdoms? Is that what
folk say? How stupid can they be?”
“Tristan is already a respected
figure and Teroux is so Golden he is god-like to strangers. Tianoman is
volatile and shows signs of being a great ruler, if purely because he has a
knack for shaking things up. Three Vallas, and only one may rule? What of the
other two? Surely, they would desire rulership? They have been raised up to
expect it. You and I know lines will be drawn, but others cannot trust it.
Thus, rumour feels like truth.”
She nodded. “If a force is suspected
on Sanctuary, someone - like bloody Agnimus - may prepare a countering army.”
“Chaim investigates the possibility
as we speak.”
“The Kaval, then, are not all
looking for Lowen.”
“It is connected. All intelligence
will form a picture Torrullin will use to determine an entrance time.” Silence.
“Saska?”
She sighed. “It occurred to me how
easy it would be for the two of them to stay lost out there.”
“Torrullin has made promises he
intends to keep. He will be back.”
“Then I wish she stays lost,” Saska
muttered. She threw her hands in the air. “Ignore that. He’ll never return to
me if she remains missing and I don’t wish that fate on her.”
They walked on in silence.
EVENTUALLY
THEY ENTERED a chamber with the look of a
farmhouse kitchen, one used frequently by the aromas. A large central workspace
held dishes and fresh vegetables. A woodstove further back had a boiling pot of
something extraordinarily aromatic - a meat stew of some kind, said Declan’s
nose, and his stomach rumbled. Copper pots and pans hung from hooks, as did
bundles of herbs. A large basin and counter contained all manner of clean
crockery and cutlery. It was a working kitchen, and welcomed him like a
prodigal son.
Saska grinned at his expression.
“Caballa’s special and there’s bound to be enough.”
“Thank you, Lady Goddess.”
“She’s probably through there.”
Saska pointed out a sunny herb garden beyond the kitchen and beyond that a
sitting room beckoned with comfort.
Declan frowned, squinting. “I
thought it was just the two of you.” He could see far more than one form moving
in the sitting room.
“Initially, yes, but others have
come. Lily sent a Minean girl who thinks she may be the future Lady and there
is … well, come meet them.”
He followed her through the herb
garden and into the chamber beyond. It was large and there were islands of
armchairs. Tall plants in beautiful containers, bright rugs on the stone floor,
a massive fireplace, and books. And a scattering of people, mostly women.
Declan saw Caballa first, and she looked up from a book and smiled.
“Declan!” She rose to embrace him in
welcome.
He returned her clasp with a laugh.
Caballa was another beautiful woman, a Golden in every way. She and Torrullin
were close once and he suspected they slept together, but she and Saska got on
famously. Perhaps he had it wrong.
Saska performed introductions and of
the women only the Minean stuck in memory, because he could not ignore her
dark, whiteless eyes. Iris was her name. There were three men, and he
remembered them, for they looked each other over, assessing threat.
One was from Yltri, troll-like as
Yltri males were. He was old, no threat, and his name was Gorin. The other was
younger, but marginally so, a refugee from Lax. The man’s name slipped his
grasp. The third intrigued him. The man was in the prime of his life with long
fair hair and blue eyes. He seemed familiar. The man claimed to be a historian,
specialising in ancient cultures, and that was interesting. He had to be sure
to pick the man’s brain before he left. Now, what was his name? Ah, Sabian,
that was it, from …
“Where do you hail from, Sabian?”
“I was born on Xen, a toddler on
Beacon, had a stint on Fortani, spent long years on Titania and met Igor here
on Lax, helped him get out of there. We both ended up staying, but I am sure to
be moving on soon. Still much to discover out there.”
Educated, experienced, and spent
long years on Titania? Titania had the largest known library in the entire
universe. “You studied at the library?”
Sabian smiled. “I did. Are you after
nuggets of information?”
“I am.”
Sabian inclined his head. “I am
happy to share.”
“After we eat,” Saska said. “Declan
is hungry, can’t you hear his stomach?”
Everyone laughed, and Caballa hooked
her arm through Declan’s and drew him back into the herb garden. Saska grinned
and passed them on the way to the kitchen.
“I
ASSUME THIS IS no idle visit?” Caballa asked,
taking him further from listening ears.
“Lowen is missing, a time shift, and
a confrontation brews out there. I need your help.”
“Agnimus,” she murmured.
“How did you know?”
“I saw you come and saw what you
were after.”
“You are good.”
She smiled. “I know. We will talk
later, all right?”
“I have only a week to find him,
Caballa.”
“But you need to eat, so we eat and
then we talk, and then you can collar the sexy Sabian.”
“Sexy?” Declan grimaced.
“Very. We all have our sights set on
him.” She laughed at the disbelief in his eyes. “We are isolated, not dead, and
he is harmless.”
“Yes, well …” and Declan allowed
himself to be pulled towards the kitchen.
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