*
Karmalaine sat in the Thorn Tower, in his private study. He looked down at a copy of Ayalla's prophecy, but though his eyes went over and over the words many times his mind was elsewhere.
A fine layer of dust covered much of the room. There were a few walk ways through it he used regularly and of course his desk which was a half-circle with a cut out seating area in the middle, and was clear due to its high level of use. Clemen would often frown when he came to fetch the prince from his private study, asking him to allow some of the palace maids in to clear away the dirt but Karmalaine forbade him, every time.
This was his one place. In a metropolis that never slept, in a role that allowed him no private life, this was his one place, his hole of serenity into which he climbed for respite. Aside from himself and Clemen, no one had set foot inside the room for decades, not since the Thorn Tower had been occupied by his father. Karmalaine often mused at the disappointment the King might feel if he saw the room now. When he had taken it over it was neat, tidy and Spartan.
Now the shelves which ran down the two long sides of the room were piled high with books and scrolls. Along the middle of the room ran Karmalaine‘s workbench on which there were more scrolls and books as well a number of ornaments, some of them so old that any palace maids would likely throw them out if they ever saw them. Prince Karmalaine was a collector and a tinkerer. He was fascinated by the history of Avalen, by the evolution of dreams from the chaos of the Dream Sea to a land of their own governed by law, and ruled by kings.
The elder days when his great-grandfather Fenn walked in Avalen were a favourite. In these times Fenn and his companions had experimented and explored a myriad of avenues in their quest to create a stable place for dreams to exist. These experiments had involved the creation of dream-machines. Though individual dreams were capable of dream-weaving to alter the state of many naturally occurring elements in Avalen the elders needed ways to perform certain tasks without the need of constant physical intervention.
A prime example of the dream-machines was Elementis Forge. It was with the forge that the Magister Elementis was able to manipulate the weather patterns of Avalen. Karmalaine glanced out of his window at the relentless drizzle pouring down on the city. The forge was evidently not all-powerful, but then the elders probably never anticipated the machine having to work against the chaotic presence of a living breathing mortal.
The small machines on Karmalaine’s workbench paled in comparison to the gargantuan engine which controlled Avalen’s weather, but these were mere prototypes. Karmalaine walked around and the table and examined some of them, smiling with the memories of his first years. There was a funnel shaped object, the funnel of which was made up of dozens of rings of very fine golden metal. On the base which the funnel ran into there was a button which Karmalaine pressed activating the machine.
The funnel started to turn and a humming noise could be heard, then suddenly darkness welled up from the bottom of the funnel to fill it. It was an inky liquid dark that did not spill over or between the thin strands of gold. Karmalaine turned the device off and the darkness disappeared. It was small experimental machines like this which gradually led Fenn and the elders to the point at which they could create a large-scale darkness that would act as an artificial night.
It was always a profound disappointment of Karmalaine’s that the age in which he now lived did not seem to herald any such innovation. The days of experimentation and invention seemed to be over. The kingdom had stagnated as far as dream-machines were concerned. Karmalaine spent considerable time tinkering in his study but alas he was also denied inspiration and had failed to construct any working machines of note.
The Prince walked over to the window and held out a hand to catch some of the falling rain. His brothers had been most put out when he told them to make their way to the security of the Hall of Providence but Karmalaine would brook no argument, their father had been clear. Drayen had complained most vehemently, tangles of blond hair flopping down over a frowning face but Allayne, the elder of the two, had complied and Drayen fell in after them. Allayne bore more of a resemblance to their mother, with his red hair, freckles and a permanent scowl. But he was a sensible lad and Drayen had dutifully followed him to Fenngaard surrounded by their silver claw bodyguards.
His sister had proved more trying. Though they had an elder sister, Infenael, she was with their mother in the Lyrilia. So when Karmalaine went to the Palace of Princesses he received a pout and a declaration of defiance.
“The Hall is drafty and cold and I have no friends there”, she announced before running through the doors of her chamber and attempting to slam them shut. The door was large and made of silken oak so in the event it did not slam so much as slowly close with all her weight behind it.
Karmalaine politely waited for her to finish closing the door before going over and knocking on it. “Esmerel, you can wear a thick cloak for the drafts and your brothers will be there to keep you company”, he said.
“My brothers are aggressive bullies”, she protested.
“Your brothers are teenagers and so are you. Father has asked for your presence, Ezzie”, said the Prince, using her nickname, “this is not negotiable.”
“I will begin packing my princess some things”, squeaked a voice from behind Karmalaine. It was Sippil, Esmerel‘s mousekarl.
“Which I will promptly unpack”, came an almost as high-pitched squeal from behind the door.
Karmalaine sighed. “It is for your protection Esmerel, father is trying to look after you”, he spoke through the door.
“I am in a huge palace surrounded by guards!” she exclaimed.
“And he would have you in a bigger palace surrounded by more guards”, retorted Karmalaine. “Please Ezzie, there are things afoot that you do not understand. I have much that needs doing, we both know you're going to have to give in so can we please make it sooner rather than later?” he implored.
The door slowly opened. In terms of physical appearance she was very much like her father and eldest brother: Marble-pale skin, raven black hair and piercing eyes.
“I am not foolish you know”, she said in a quiet voice.
“I know you're not”, said Karmalaine conciliatorily.
“You could just tell me what is happening”, she said. Esmerel was fifteen, compared to Karmalaine‘s one hundred years and to her elder sister Infenael she was a babe-in-arms. Her, Allayne and Drayen all were and as such they lived sheltered lives. None of them had ever even been off of the first pillar into the city proper. Even so, she was the daughter of the King and Karmalaine knew her to be a studious creature, much more so then Allayne and Drayen despite them being three years and a year older respectively. But he did not want to put fear into her, and could give her no certain answers when he did not have them himself.
“Old enemies may have become new foes. There has been an event and now there is a threat which the Silent Council deems to be very real.”
“Have you been taking lessons on how to be vague Karmalaine?” she asked sarcastically.
“There is a reason they call it the Silent Council”, he responded.
“Because it has nothing to say?” she said.
“Because it keeps secrets, secrets of a dire nature, dire to us and dire to Avalen. Now please, will you make your way to the Palace of Fenngaard or shall I have the silver claws carry you?”
“Well, since you ask so nicely”, she snorted before beginning to pack, much to Karmalaine’s relief.
It was after that he had come here, to his study, to examine the prophecy and try and come up with some sort of reasoning, to try and guess what the talented jackals’ next move might be. Clemen had informed him that following the precedent for times of uncertainty all applicants for an audience with the Crown Prince had been referred back to the city’s arbiters who would now have to resolve civil issues of their own accord.
Karmalaine was grateful for the respite but felt that there was
an extent to which the lack of royal petitioners and the ensuing silence in the Thorn Tower was simply highlighting the lack of progress that he was making. After more hours of analyzing the prophecy than Karmalaine cared to think about Clemen came practically bursting into his study.
“My Prince”, he said bowing, “you must come at once.” Clemen’s nose was twitching wildly and he was obviously very excited about something.
“What has happened?” asked Karmalaine fearing the worst.
“My price, the dragons have arrived!” said Clemen scooting around the side of the Prince’s desk and almost shooing him down the stairs and out of the Thorn Tower into the rain. Karmalaine and his bodyguards walked around the stone walkway which joined the five bridges leading to the Palace of Fenngaard. It was a long walk until they got the bridge which led from the Palace of Night up to Fenngaard. It was here that the dragons had been told to land and enter the Hall of Providence.
A large crowd had gathered. Bureaucrats and courtiers, jugglers and merchants, pretty much anyone who had access to the first pillar and the palace complexes seemed to have turned out to see the arrival of the winged lizards. Karmalaine’s silver claws made their way swiftly through the crowd knocking down any one stupid enough to stand in their way.
When Karmalaine reached the front he stopped and like many started to examine the skies above for some sign of the dragons. He spotted the first one when it was some distance away; a hushed awe went over the rain soaked crowds as they peered up at the rapidly approaching form.
At distance the beast looked large, as it got closer and closer its true size became clear - the dragon was less large and more colossal. Despite flying in at speed it hit the bridge with delicacy, achieving a complete stop in a single motion. Even so Karmalaine and the onlookers felt the massive vibration run through the stones of Fenngaard as it landed.
The dragon was emerald-green and covered in scales which glimmered in the rain. The bridges leading to Fenngaard were hundreds of feet long but seemed no more than narrow walkways under the giant claws of the dragon. Its head alone was the size of the top of the Thorn Tower. Beneath the scales Karmalaine got a sense of tons of densely packed muscle which gave the dragons their prodigious strength, a strength they needed to carry such a weight through the sky.
The dragon’s head was just below the top of the mighty raven-emblazoned door leading into the Hall of Providence. Its long tail ended in a sharpened tip which could have punched through stone, a tail which currently wound its way up into the Night Palace and curled around one of the towers.
The dragon looked about at the crowds, it snorted in a derisory fashion which made the crowds cry out in surprise at the tongues of flame which emitted from its cavernous nostrils. The dragon showed its teeth, each one longer than a silver claw, and then the doors swung ponderously open following the ringing of the bell and the pulling of the smiling ogres. No sooner had it disappeared into the opening than the second dragon landed.
Despite the gloom many in the crowd had to lift their hands, shining so brilliantly was Cyra the Silver. Silver metallic crystalline scales covered it, stronger and more durable than any substance made in the forges of Fenn. This one was smaller than its green counterpart but still just as majestic and awe-inspiring. When it looked around at the crowd Karmalaine saw that even its eyes were silver. The Prince felt them bore into him and a shudder went down his spine. The creature walked into the hall on claws large enough to crush a horse and they looked up again into the rain waiting for the final dragon.
When it arrived they shied back and several fled. A black dragon. Its shape blurred and shifted, the light was reluctant or unable to pierce the veil about this beast. It was a huge shadow which writhed and shook. It belched fire into the sky and even this was black, a strange liquid fire that gave the sense of pestilence and plague. Karmalaine watched in mute fascination as it moved into the hall.
After a few moments Karmalaine regained his composure and remembered that he was the Prince Regent and would be required in the hall to greet their guests. With his silver claws around him he walked into the hall. Despite the dimensions of the dragons, the Hall of Providence was wide enough for the Prince to hurry around them unnoticed as they stalked across the blue carpet. Karmalaine noted that even with their razor sharp claws the thick blue carpet on which they walked remained unspoiled by their passage.
He reached the ring of steel just as his father was speaking to the first dragon: “Welcome then Veramax to the Hall of Providence, you have my gratitude for making the journey so swiftly.”
“I came swiftly as befits the honour of the descendants of the first Fenn, father of our hearts and minds, liberator of our souls.”
“You do my house great honour”, responded the King
“As it should be”, answered the Dragon.
Karmalaine could not get over his voice. It was almost enchanting, deep and rhythmic. It was a voice of reassurance and wisdom.
“Now”, Veramax continued, “allow me to introduce my brothers, Cyra”, he said indicating the silver dragon who had walked to his right.
“Great King”, said Cyra the Silver. His voice was different, deep still but more metallic, with a tinny echo to it.
“And Astare”, said Veramax indicating the black dragon to his left.
Astare did not speak but simply snorted loudly and nodded his huge head. Now they were indoors and the creature was still Karmalaine could make out the black dragon’s features with more clarity. Beneath the shadowy whirl his scales were like obsidian, but his eyes burned deep fiery red; a fury lurked there, kept in check but barely.
“Welcome all to the Hall of Providence. May Draxes fire burn forever.”
The dragons all nodded at the King’s acknowledgement of their own lord. Then Veramax spoke: “So, King Geddon, you summoned us and we have come. Pray tell us, what matter of urgency called us down from Mirgarden.”
“To that matter we shall soon come, however, I must apprise thee that we currently wait on other parties to come to council, those of Bloodren, Archaven and Torabane.”
At the mention of the home of the giants Veramax’s eyes widened, Astare snorted again and Cyra looked away as if in disgust. “We are to treaty with vermin of the north?” he asked plainly, all of the previous courtesy seemingly forgotten.
Karmalaine noticed his father tense up upon the Nested Throne. Karmalaine had almost forgotten the old enmity between Mirgarden and Torabane. The giants and the dragons had been foes for many years, some said that even before Avalen’s inception those two races would do battle out in the Dream Sea. Certainly they had brought their conflict with them and in the two millennia since the Great Fenn’s founding of the kingdom the giants and dragons had chosen their loyalties based almost entirely on choosing the opposing side to whichever the other was on.
“The matter at hand concerns us all, and it will be dealt with by us all. I will make it clear now and just this once; you will leave your quarrels with the sons of Rokumung outside this hall. Now, if it pleases you, make yourselves comfortable.”
That did not sit well with the dragons but they stayed silent. They moved away from the throne, melting into the shadows at the side of the dome.
Prince Karmalaine wondered how long they might be waiting. The Ravenlords had all flown at the same time but there was nothing to say that the other three races would reach Fenngaard with the same speed as the dragons. The answer to his wondering came almost immediately. Karmalaine saw Hidriss the mousekarl point upwards to the top of the dome, close to where the opening was. The opening had been closed due to the rain but still five globes of white light had appeared.
They floated gently down towards the throne. The King’s silver claws had seemed uneasy at the presence of the dragons and now this new entity seemed to unsettle them even more. Several even broke ranks to stand near the King as the globes floated down towards him.
A barked order from Vulthian saw them move back to their posit
ions but Karmalaine noticed that the Lord Captain went to stand closer to the throne himself, clawed gauntlet at the ready and his other hand on the broadsword at his belt.
The globes floated away from the throne and gently bobbed on the other side of the ring of steel before materialising into the forms of five humanoid figures. Karmalaine blinked several times as he stared at them. They sported no unique features, all possessed short blonde hair, pale skin, and identical facial features. They bore no weapons and each sported two large wings on their back.
“May we enter?” said the one in the centre. Its voice sounded like music, as if each word was being sung as part of the most beautiful ensemble.
“You may”, said the King, at which the silver claws parted to allow the Angel Lords through. They walked and knelt before the throne.
“Rise”, said Corul.
When they stood Karmalaine spotted the differences. It was the eyes, each one had a distinctive colouration in their eyes, but aside from that Karmalaine could not see a difference.
“King Fenn Corul Geddon, I am Elwyn of the House of Tangeth-Marr, of the Legion of Archaven, faithful servant of Arcturion and subject of the Palace of Fenngaard. You summoned and I am yours to command”, said the middle angel with a florid bow. Karmalaine noted his eyes were a deep ocean-blue.
“Welcome to the Hall of Providence Elwyn of Tangeth-Marr. You are a most welcome guest of the Crown. You have my gratitude for attending so swiftly. Who are your companions?” asked the King.
The Angel Lord smiled and held out his hands to his side. The angel to the far right stepped forward and said, “I am Colwyn of the House of Seriad, of the Legion of Archaven, faithful servant of Arcturion and subject of the Palace of Fenngaard.” He bowed and stepped back. Green eyes, thought Karmalaine.
Then the next Angel Lord stepped forth, who had been standing between Colwyn and Elwyn. This one had eyes of bright orange, orange like one of the suns which Karmalaine had read of in his books. “I am Alwyn of the House of Atreas, of the Legion of Archaven, faithful servant of Arcturion and subject of the Palace of Fenngaard”, he said stepping back.
After him the remaining two Angel Lords stepped forward and gave the same speech, introducing themselves as Denwyn of the House of Balisk and Kalwyn of the House of Merywel. Denwyn could be picked apart from his brothers by his caramel coloured eyes, whereas Kalwyn’s were pure black through and through.
Just as Kalwyn had finished speaking and the King seemed about to say something there came several loud shouts from the other end of the hall. The Door of Night through which the dragons had entered had been left open due to the steady stream of state functionaries who were coming and going. State business was currently being kept at the far end of the hall well away from the Nestled Throne.
Karmalaine looked up and saw two winged forms had flown in through the door and were flying in circles above the crowd at the far end of the hall. Dozens of silver claws were flooding into the hall from the huge doorways which suddenly all swung open and also from a dozen other smaller doors built into the wall of the dome which led to the labyrinth of rooms which were part of the domed wall and housed the King’s private chambers as well as the offices of the kingdom bureaucracy.
The newcomers were large. They were nowhere near the proportions of the dragons but still impressive figures. Even from a distance Karmalaine could see the fiery red glow which came off them. They flew closer and closer to the throne. Karmalaine heard them cackling and laughing as they circled.
They landed with a crunch. The Prince saw their wingspans were approximately twenty feet, the wings themselves paper thin and covered in thick black veins, as were the rest of their figures. They had cloven hooves for feet, thick furry legs and torsos which were muscular to a warped degree. Their mighty arms ended in single curved claws which dripped with blood. The minions of Bloodren had arrived.
Though they were similar physically Karmalaine still noted significant differences. One was taller and carried tattoos on every patch of red skin. His head was that of a ram, but with the skin stretched so tightly it seemed to be made of bone. In hollow eye sockets sat two small pools of fire that occasionally released drips down out of an eye socket and when it hit his skin he did not seem to notice as it scorched and smouldered.
The second demon had more human like features, offset by the two twisting black horns which formed the greater part of his upper skull.
All was chaos upon their landing. The mighty dragons snarled and belched clouds of fire as they reared up. Suddenly the Angel Lords held swords of pure light in their hands and dropped into combat positions, hissing at the demons, though even their hissing had a musical tinge to it.
The demons roared and lifted their claws as they faced off against the angels whilst hundreds of silver claws swarmed in to surround them. The taller of the two demons then leapt through the air to attack. He made it no more than a few feet before crashing to the ground beneath a blurry light and within a split second the other demon was down. It had happened fast than was possible.
Karmalaine looked at the empty Nested Throne and then at the magnificent figure of his father who stood over the two demons. In his hand he carried the Hammer of Fenn, the golden hammer with which the first Fenn had forged the world. The air around it pulsed with the raw energy of the device.
“Enough!” roared Corul Geddon in a voice with such power and resonance that the dome seemed to shake. All who were there present, be they dragon or demon or any other kind of dream, dropped their head and fell to their knees at the sound of his voice. Corul Geddon had just reminded those present of who was King in the Palace of Fenngaard.
The silence was palpable and remained in place as long as the King deemed necessary. The demons cowered at his feat, they seemed shrunken lesser things compared to the beasts which had flown about their heads only minutes before. In comparison Karmalaine’s father seemed to have grown, to have moved beyond his form to stand like a giant above the minions of Bloodren.
The ring of steel had fallen back and the King walked back to the throne. As he went the Hammer wavered and disappeared back to the place where he kept it, the ether from which he took his weapon when he needed it. This was one of only a handful of times that Karmalaine had looked upon the hammer which might one day become his, as was his birthright.
The King sat and looked at the demons. “Speak”, was all he said.
“Great King”, rasped the smaller of the two, the black horned one, “forgive us, forgive us, we are but lowly creatures not used to finding ourselves beyond the realm of fire that is Bloodren. We were foolish to come before you with such arrogance, it was hubris to act in such a manner and think that we would not be justly admonished.” Both creatures were on their knees with their wings folded in.
“It was indeed”, rumbled the King, “I trust that the lesson is well learned?”
“Yes great King, you will not need to teach us our place again”, said the fawning demon.
“Good, now give me your names”, asked the King.
“I am Golgoleth the Bloodfiend and this is my brother, Bolach of the Fury.”
“Golgoleth the Bloodfiend and Bolach of the Fury, you have been summoned to answer a threat to all Avalen including Bloodren. You will give your counsel on these matters when you are asked for them, is that clear?” said the King in ominous tones.
“Most clear great King, we are but statues who will find life at your command”, responded Golgoleth who along with his brother slunk off to the side of the throne, well away from where the dragons and angels stood.
A semblance of normality returned after that. The King spoke quietly to Hidriss, the dragons and the angels stayed silent. The angels had their eyes closed and seemed to be meditating. The demons whispered quietly too each other and stole furtive glances about the hall.
Some time passed before a messenger came running down the length of the hall to whisper in the King’s ear. The King nodded and declared to all t
hose gathered which now included the Magister Elementis and Mortiune, “The final delegation is on its way, I will have calm and civility from all parties.” As he said he looked at in the direction of Veramax, Cyra and Astare.
The King stayed standing, Karmalaine noticed that he kept clenching and unclenching his right hand, maybe preparing to draw the hammer out again. After a few moments Karmalaine felt the ground begin to tremble. Then he became certain that he could hear screams from outside.
In his mind he tried to picture the route the giants would have taken to get to the first pillar and the palace complex. There were only a few avenues large enough to take their size. The main worry would have been the bridges, the city had been a host to giants before, however, so the prince was confident that a way in would be found that would not involve too many buildings collapsing.
The trembling got louder and louder and the occupants of the hall waited with baited breath, except the dragons who stomped restlessly. The rumbles continued until it seemed like there was thunder in the Hall of Providence.
Then it appeared. It came lumbering into the Palace of Fenngaard and the first thing that Karmalaine felt was fear. The giant stood over a hundred feet tall, it was warped and bulbous and in the Prince’s mind there was no way that such a thing could exist anywhere but here, anywhere but in dreams.
Balg-Miur, son of the God-giant Rokumung stomped down the hall shaking people from their feet as he came, behind him came two others, smaller but still epic in their scale. Aside from the dragons all else seemed miniature before them, like toys. Karmalaine had never thought to see the day when the Hall of Providence would seem crowded, but now that day had come. The giants had arrived and the council would now begin.
Beyond the Dream Page 12