Chapter 10: Ilfin of Arc

 

Come, reader, join the great march today …

 According to legend, a paradise awaits across the plains, a sanctuary that has survived every impact and every battle. Known as Arc, it is a place of isolation, a place to restart civilisation.

 A fireball grows ever larger in the skies and ancient enemies wing through the spaces; the world Massin is the gathering place for every omen of disaster. Every resident soul faces a choice. Time now to march south to the sanctuary, from the eastern highlands and the western seas, there to escape apocalypse, and the renewal of the war between the Ilfin and Glonu, or stay behind, hoping for a miracle.

 An Elemental will find the sanctuary – Lyra is gifted – a Warrior will defend the dispossessed – the boy Horin will grow up fast – and a Marsh Devil will lead them – Damin spends years preparing for this epic event – but it is also true that a sanctuary is not always a haven. Has the legend lied? Will Arc protect them?

Prepare for an adventure that will journey from ancient ways of living into high-tech environments. Ilfin of Arc is a dystopian Fantasy tale that flies into star filled spaces – strap in!

10

  

Trolls live in the mind

Glonu Saying

 

 

IN THE GLOOM of a rainy day, in a city about to be abandoned, with life changing around them by the minute, Damin turned to Lyra and broke her heart.

“Alyssa is a good person, Lyra, and I did sleep with her, if that is what you want to know.”

She did not want to know. She swallowed convulsively as words of accusation clogged her throat. Of course, five years had passed and she did not expect Damin to remain celibate, and yet she had hoped he would. As she had been, not that suitors knocked at her door.

The naïve country girl had just been disillusioned.

Shrugging, shoving horrible words down, she jerked around and strode along the wet streets. Damin followed, wisely saying no more.

She did not watch where she went. It was mere mindless wander to still her thoughts. By some fate, when she needed it most, the close buildings abruptly surrendered to open space. Lyra was initially taken aback by the green park spread before them. There was a pretty pond, a stone bridge, tall and stout trees, as well as welcoming benches. Silence and serenity weaved through the space. She required clarity … and space appeared. Was this inner instinct?

“Lyra.”

Shaking her head, Lyra made her way onto the bridge to stare into the water. Raindrops formed circles and spirals. It calmed her. When Damin was beside her, she looked up. “Did you love her?”

He was as honest as ever. “For a time, yes. I questioned everything I was, and she made me forget. I could not hear her the way I hear you and it was a comfort for a while.”

“Why did it end?”

He stared into the water as she had. “I heard you one night as if you were beside me, as you are now. You were sobbing, so hurt, agony in your soul. Your face …” He took her face into his hands and shifted aside hair covering her left temple to touch a scar there. “They stoned you, two-eyes. I wanted to kill someone. I knew then I loved you more than life. I ended it that same night.”

She closed her eyes, remembering that day. There were strangers on the common, come to trade, but asking strange questions. Blinking, she forced her thoughts away. They would undo her as those two men intended to achieve that day.

A gargling scream removed their attention from personal issues, from debilitating memories. Damin and Lyra leaned convulsively over the bridge wall, for the sound seemed to come from under them. There was nothing untoward to see, but the otherworldly shriek continued unabated.

“Go that way.” Damin pointed to the opposite side, and then ran back the way they came.

Lyra raced across the bridge to the other bank. From opposite ends, they descended to the water’s edge. The sound was human, if desperate, but what was below did not appear as human at all. As she crouched to stare into the gloom under the arch, her instincts warned her. Something was not right.

Damin was about to enter the shallow pond on the other side, and she hurtled to her feet and gestured wildly at him, shaking her head with intent. He saw her, thank the stars, and halted.

The screaming transformed into laughter; the manic kind able to raise even the dead into flight. A glint told her Damin had his dagger to hand. Looking down, she discovered she had hers as well. She did not remember reaching for it.

Together they then slowly paced away from the water and Damin gestured for her to wait. Swiftly he sprinted across the bridge to her side. As he crossed the span, again the gargling scream erupted.

It was akin to tales they grew up with, the monsters under the bridge stories, but this was beyond frightening. What was it? Slime and mud oozed over something misshapen, and it seemed to cling to the underside of the arch as if afraid of drowning in the shallows below.

Lyra frowned.

As if afraid.

She grabbed Damin’s hand and they ran. “Something bad is about to happen,” she panted at him.

It did.

With a sound similar to burbling thunder, the pond exploded in a rain of sludge.

They ran to put distance between them and the deluge, and Damin then started yelling, “Get out! Leave Normur now!”

People were soon in the streets despite the weather, too many of them. They impeded progress and swiftly drowned out Damin’s continuous warning shouts.

Finally, Lyra pulled him to a halt in a recessed doorway. “What?” she demanded of him.

Heaving,, he said, “Underground water is pushing up and it will explode from every hole it can find to do so.” He inhaled repeated breaths. “It must have poured down in the countryside and all that water is now coming this way, underground. Last time this happened, centuries ago, a large part of the plateau collapsed.”

Dread overcame Lyra. The entire city could tumble into the marshes. “And that creature under the bridge?”

“What creature?”

Damin had not seen it. He merely followed her instincts, for it was her instinct that regarded the danger as something manifest. She was not certain whether to be relieved or horrified. Her mind had conjured a horror as warning. Never did she desire to see such a creature again.

“Never mind,” she muttered. “We need a high place, somewhere to issue warning from.”

Damin nodded jerkily. “I know where. Come.”

He had her hand and pulled her along in his wake, shouldering people out the way. As they went, they gave warning, but it was doubtful many heard it.

The clock tower came into view. Damin kicked the door in and they hurtled up countless stone stairs.

“There is a gong for alarm,” Damin gasped.

“Go!” Lyra heaved. The stairs were her nemesis right now. “I will follow. Go!”

He released her hand and sprinted up. Desperation created adrenaline, but she could not keep pace with him. Her chest was on fire and her legs shuddering under her.

Moments later a mighty clashing sound reverberated into the city.

Lyra covered her ears.

 

 

PEOPLE TRAMPLED EACH other in their rush to leave the city. Tears fell as Lyra watched the desperation from the clock tower with Damin at her side. He no longer beat the alarm. Mud and water rose in the streets now; everyone knew there was cause for panic.

She gulped when she saw a child vanish beneath uncaring boots. A moment later she thought of Attis. They needed to get to the boy! Frantically she clutched at Damin, screaming at him.

He grabbed her hands to still her. “Calm, Lyra. Please. If we leave here, we run the risk of being trampled. Attis is a bright boy and will know to stay put.”

Yes, true. Attis was a survivor. She breathed in deeply to still her heartbeat to an even rhythm. “What of your Alyssa?” she whispered.

Damin released her hands. Grimacing, he stared into the roiling streets. “She will be with others of her kind. The rich always have an escape plan.”

That was no doubt true as well. She said no more.

“The creature you saw, what was it?” Damin asked. He sought to distract her. Mostly he desired to distract himself.

“I saw something covered with slime and mud, hanging from under the bridge. I think now it may be akin to what happens to you. You see emotions as images. What I see may be warnings.”

“Thank the stars for that or we would not be above it now.”

“What are you seeing?” she asked him.

“Coils and scales. Snakes of terror, in shifting colours.” Damin closed his eyes. “I do not know how to shut it off. There is too much.”

The eerie warmth erupted into her chest. Her hands glowed.

“Look at me.” She placed her hands on Damin’s cheeks. “Just keep looking at me … until they go away.”

ILFIN OF ARC