by Dan Zangari
“It’s ancient,” Pagus said. “It has something to do with the Mindolarnians’ religion.”
“The words could activate tevisrals,” Iltar said. “The wall,” he added.
Pagus nodded. “Do you think it could be some secret language of incantations?” Pagus said with awe.
“I don’t know,” Iltar said. “Perhaps…” Elves had their own language of incantations that was different from men. But the human and elven incantations weren’t totally different. There was some resemblance.
“Could it be a forgotten tongue?” Pagus mused.
Iltar nodded. He caught sight of the acolytes practicing their incantations together. They mustered defensive spells and dueled with each other, casting destructive magics.
No! Iltar felt a surge of panic. “Stop!” he shouted to the boys, then ran after them. The acolytes, however, resumed their dueling.
“Stop, you fools!” Iltar shouted.
“They’re fine!” Pagus shouted after Iltar.
The boys evaded each other’s spells with a finesse that was otherworldly. It looked downright reckless.
“Don’t you know that if you’re wounded here you’re wounded in reality?” Iltar shouted, stopping a few paces from Bilda, who dived to evade an acidic bolt from Agen.
“They’re fine,” Pagus said again, coming beside Iltar. “Don’t you see?”
Bilda rebounded swiftly. He should have hurt himself with that dive, as it was performed recklessly.
“Watch,” Pagus said, shoving Iltar sideways.
What was that fool doing? Iltar grumbled and regained his footing. “And what was that for?!” he shouted.
Pagus rolled his eyes. “Just throw yourself to the ground, clumsily.”
Iltar straightened up and glanced back to the acolytes. They were bouncing off the glassy ground. The very act seemed to defy the laws of nature. But then again, this place was not natural.
“Well?” Pagus asked.
“Fine,” Iltar threw himself backwards. He expected to land with a painful thud, but he just felt himself stop. He was obviously lying on his back, but the sensation of hitting the ground was different.
“See?” Pagus asked, smiling wide.
Intrigued, Iltar sat up and felt at his back. No pain. He recalled slamming his fist a moment ago. There was no pain from that either.
Pagus stepped closer, extending a hand to Iltar. Iltar accepted the help and rose to his feet. “I don’t think this place can hurt you,” he said. “At least not like this. Now if I punch you it’d hurt.” He swung at Iltar.
Iltar swiftly pushed aside the punch, but felt the force of the blow as it should be in reality.
“Interesting, isn’t it?” Pagus asked. Iltar nodded, then turned his attention back to the boys. Tigan’s acidic barsion had just collapsed.
“That’s enough playing around!” Iltar yelled. The boys stopped, and Bilda looked to Iltar.
“But no one has won yet,” the little boy said sadly.
“What?” Iltar demanded.
“Since we’ve been coming in here, we made up this little game,” Pagus said. “Last barsion standing wins. If you lose your barsion, you’re out. So, Tigan’s out.”
“Dangerously stupid game,” Iltar grumbled. “Now go back to your dreams. I want to talk with you in the morning.”
Iltar turned around and opened a portal back to his dream. A chaotic storm raged across a lush woodland resembling Soroth. Bolts of lightning surged across a blackened sky. Iltar, however, remained in Vabenack. He waited for the boys to open their own doorways back to what Iltar assumed was their subconscious minds.
Traveling to and from Vabenack still boggled him. Iltar couldn’t completely wrap his head around the specifics, but he knew that the process worked.
One by one, the boys departed, leaving Iltar alone.
Now to test if this was really them, he thought, stepping through the portal.
Iltar hoped that those were really his acolytes and not some trick conjured by Reflection. The only way to know for sure was to confront the boys when they awoke. He just hoped they wouldn’t attempt to access Vabenack again without him.
* * * * *
Iltar confronted the acolytes after they awoke. The boys had indeed traveled to Vabenack.
They all went about their usual activities for the day. The acolytes spent their time in the public areas of the Hilinard while Iltar, Pagus, and the women descended to the Royal Archive.
Pagus intently was listening to the attendant as the man opened the wall to the Hilinard’s hidden parts.
He better not try anything stupid, Iltar thought.
Soon, the four of them were down in the Royal Archive. Vaegris watched as they entered. His cold gaze was his only greeting.
For most of the morning Iltar reread the texts on Vabenack written by the priest named Esmid. Iltar concluded that he must not have been saying the words right. A similar thing happened when one mispronounced the words of an incantation. One slur and the spell would fizzle or fail to manifest at all.
Partway through the afternoon, Alanya and Elsia left to fetch a late lunch for the four of them, leaving Iltar and Pagus to their studies. They each had their own alcove, which Iltar preferred.
Heavy-soled footfalls echoed into the library not long after the women left.
Probably forgot something, Iltar thought, still scanning the texts in front of him.
The footsteps drew closer, then stopped beside the table. Iltar could see someone wearing crimson clothing. Neither of the women were wearing such a color. Iltar cautiously turned toward his unexpected visitor, seeing the princess Raedina standing with her arms folded, clutching a pair of blood-red gloves. Her crimson clothing was a simple blouse and tightly fitting women’s trousers. The princess didn’t look fanciful by any means. In fact, Raedina looked rather ordinary. Even her makeup was simple.
“You look engrossed,” she said, almost smiling.
“I am,” Iltar said, and straightened.
“Are you finding what you’re looking for?” Raedina asked, dimples appearing in her cheeks.
“Somewhat,” Iltar replied. He didn’t know how much he dare explain to this woman. There were already more people involved with his research than he liked.
Raedina eyed Iltar up and down, then slid into the bench across from him. Pagus peered around the corner of his alcove, but soon returned to his reading.
“I’m curious,” Iltar said, flipping through the pages to the strange language used to manipulate the Translucent Fields of Vabenack. “I’ve never seen this language.”
Raedina squinted at him, looking tense.
“And as a scholar, I would like to know the proper pronunciations of these words,” he came to the long string of words written in Common. Other symbols adorned the page above the Common writing, and Iltar thought that those characters might be how the strange language was written. “Would you perchance know how to say these words?”
He turned the tome around to face Raedina.
The princess’s face stiffened as she read the page. A moment of silence passed before Raedina turned the book back to Iltar.
“Anything?” he asked.
She glanced back to the page, then studied Iltar as if deciding if he was worthy of the information. “It’s the Keadal tongue,” she said. “The language of my ancestors.”
“Your ancestors?” Iltar asked. “But the Common tongue has been the language of men for centuries, perhaps even millennia.”
Raedina forced a smile. “Sixty-five hundred years to be precise,” she said flatly. “The Keadal tongue is the language spoken by the true rulers of our world.” Her words had a tinge of resentment to them.
True rulers of Kalda? Iltar thought. What does that—? Never mind, focus on the words, he chided himself.
“So, can you read it?” Iltar asked.
Raedina nodded. “Trisl miras kasilak durish manai, crilena ashiry jehvas moltak,” she spoke each word with a harsh gutt
ural inflection. “Nuri mari cheska zubrai.”
Iltar was taken aback. Those weren’t the words written on the page. He didn’t know what she was saying, but Raedina spoke the tongue fluently, as if it was natural for her.
“Why do you want to know these words?” Raedina tapped the sentences used to manipulate the Translucent Fields.
Ignoring the question, Iltar wondered how he could get her to recite those words. He couldn’t put her under a mind-control spell. Sure, that would get what he wanted, but the very moment that he released the spell he would be seen as a threat. He would undoubtedly be arrested for assaulting a member of the Mindolarn Royal Family. He couldn’t have that. Perhaps there was another way…
“Alanya’s late husband was studying this subject. It coincides with my own research. Merely reading the words is only half the discovery.”
Raedina chuckled. “This subject as you put it is very sacred in our religion. It is not something to be treated lightly or mocked.”
“I’m not trying to be disrespectful,” Iltar said, seeking to reassure her with a tone of feigned charm.
The princess shook her head at him.
That didn’t work.
“Only the most devout dare seek anything about Vabenack,” Raedina said. “And those who find it wouldn’t dare try to comprehend these words.”
“Then why are they written?” Iltar asked, genuinely interested in the answer. Why write something only to make it forbidden?
“This is the Royal Archive,” Raedina said. “Those words are meant to be understood by only us.” Her voice was contemptuous. Though she was trying to hide it, Iltar could sense the same hostility from her as on the day they met in the market.
You’re hiding something, Iltar thought. Silence lingered for a moment, and then Raedina’s demeanor lightened.
“I think that is enough about serious matters for one conversation,” the princess said. “I came down here looking for Alanya. We are holding a ball next week, honoring the advancements of our most recent strides in tevisral construction here at the Hilinard. As I am in charge of organizing the festivities, I thought to ask Alanya to lend a hand. Hopefully you can spare her.”
Iltar sat back, folding his arms. “You just missed her,” he said.
“A pity,” the princess said with a frown. Raedina slid out of the alcove and looked Iltar up and down once again. “Please tell her I’d like to speak to her. Tomorrow, at the palace? We can discuss the particular details of her involvement over lunch. You are welcome to come as well,” she said, and gestured to Iltar. “As are your acolytes.”
“A gracious gesture,” Iltar said. “I’m sure they would enjoy the opportunity.”
“Well, from what I’ve seen, it seems like you drive them like a taskmaster spurring his slaves,” the princess said, smiling wryly. “They deserve a break.”
She spun around and walked haughtily across the Royal Archive. Once Raedina was gone, Pagus peeled from his alcove and slunk into the seat across from Iltar. “Whoa…” the boy muttered, chuckling. “That was a bold insult…”
“Yeah,” Iltar muttered, eyeing the archive’s entrance.
“So this is a long-lost language.” Pagus tapped the still open page. “But whatever she said wasn’t what’s written here.”
“It wasn’t,” Iltar said, “but now I’ve heard the language. Perhaps that will be enough to deduce the proper pronunciations.”
Pagus shrugged. “I’m going to go ask that codger for any books on this Keadal language. Maybe now that I know the name of it, he’ll actually listen to me.”
Doubtful, Iltar thought, watching as Pagus crossed the archive.
* * * * *
Iltar decided to leave the Hilinard with the women and his acolytes. The hours following Raedina’s visit had proved fruitless. Iltar had started reading another ancient tome that was religious in nature. He found that particular read dull, as the information inside it would undoubtedly prove biased.
The sun was still out when they exited the main building of the Hilinard. It loomed over the eastern horizon in a beautiful sunset.
Elsia and Alanya whispered to each other about the invitations received from Raedina. They hadn’t spoken of it to the acolytes, and so they conversed quietly, giddily whispering to each other. Both women reminded Iltar of the frivolous girls who had studied the illusionary arts with him.
Turning the women, Iltar studied Pagus. The boy had been uncharacteristically quiet since leaving the Royal Archive. Pagus walked in a stupor. The boy steered clear of the others and gave passersby a wide birth.
Odd, Iltar thought. Pagus hadn’t said much after returning to his alcove. Old Vaegris had probably given Pagus a stern lecture before dismissing him.
Alanya’s carriage and wagon were waiting for them outside the Hilinard’s gates. The acolytes scurried into their vehicle while the women entered the lavish carriage.
Iltar was right behind them, but stopped upon noticing Pagus lingering by the gate. “Are you coming?” Iltar called to the boy.
“I’m going to walk,” Pagus said sullenly.
“Is he okay?” Elsia whispered to Iltar. Iltar shrugged and stepped into the carriage, shutting the door behind him.
Soon, the carriage and wagon were back at Alanya’s home. Everyone exited their vehicles, and Iltar called for the acolytes to gather in the high duchess’s dining hall.
The boys hurried past Iltar and the women, running into the mansion and drawing a chiding shout from Hazais.
“I love having children here,” Alanya smiled, taking Iltar’s arm.
“Some children they are,” Iltar said, shaking his head.
Together they walked arm in arm into the mansion. They followed the boys and entered the large dining hall. The acolytes were already seated, eagerly awaiting dinner.
“Shall we wait for Pagus?” Alanya asked.
“No,” Iltar said as he guided Alanya to the head of the table.
Alanya took her seat and Iltar stood beside her, clearing his throat. “I have an announcement,” he said. “Tomorrow we won’t be conducting any research.” The boys perked up. Bilda and the younger acolytes smiled, pleased that they wouldn’t have to work. “Earlier today we received an invitation to the palace—”
Gasps echoed throughout the room.
“As I was saying,” Iltar continued, his tone slightly agitated. “We received an invitation to dine at the palace. All of us.” The acolytes whooped and cheered. Bilda rose from his chair and began dancing, along with Tigan. “Settle down!” Iltar barked. “Alanya has been summoned, and we are accompanying her as guests. I expect each of you to be on your best behavior.”
“Shouldn’t you be telling Pagus that?” Tigan asked.
Several of the boys laughed, and Iltar grinned. Yes, Pagus was the worst of the lot. But, these boys could be rascals on their own. Alanya chimed in, explaining the proper etiquette for palace visitors. She went on about Mindolarnian procedure and protocol when sharing a meal at the palace. Alanya obviously didn’t want any of the acolytes making fools of themselves. Iltar assumed any misbehavior or mistake would reflect badly on her. She then added that they would require formal attire. That was something the boys lacked.
As Alanya proposed a solution for the clothing situation, Iltar glimpsed Pagus walking across the grounds, still looking sullen. He didn’t come to the mansion, but walked toward the guesthouse.
I should keep an eye on that boy, Iltar thought, then said to Alanya, “Save my plate.”
The high duchess paused, looking at Iltar with concern. She nodded and resumed talking to the acolytes.
* * * * *
Pagus waited hours for Master Iltar to stop watching him. The old man just stared. He didn’t even come over to check on how his apprentice was doing. Of course, Pagus was fine. The whole sulking demeanor was just a ruse. Pagus was a little disappointed that Master Iltar hadn’t even tried to call his bluff.
But, that made things less difficult. Pag
us dismissed the illusion of him wandering around Alanya’s mansion and opened his eyes. All was quiet down here in the secret parts of the Hilinard.
His daring feat was quite commendable. Not everyone could do what he had done. Pagus had created an illusion of himself after the futile discussion with that codger of a librarian. He then veiled himself in invisibility. The illusion of himself had returned to the alcove and “resumed” studying from the tome. Pagus let the illusion sit there until Aunty Elsia returned, and then he had to resort to a cleverer tactic. It was tricky, but Pagus had timed his own invisible turning of pages with that of his illusion. It was done so well that Aunty Elsia hadn’t even noticed.
He had stayed in the Royal Archive until the others left, and then he found a secluded spot elsewhere in this hidden area of the Hilinard. Pagus had to be careful, as he would have to speak to project his words through his illusion. Luckily, he hadn’t needed to do much talking.
Now, hours after hiding, Pagus crept through the underground halls of the Hilinard. They were empty, and the places where there had been Praetorians were now unguarded.
That would make things easier.
Grinning, though still invisible, Pagus sneaked into the Royal Archive. At last, he could search the bookshelves without harassment.
It was a good feeling.
Now, where to start? Pagus wondered, tiptoeing down the nearest aisle. The Keadal tongue was probably the most pressing subject, but Pagus was curious about a host of other things. He wouldn’t be able to dive into everything in one night. It would probably take a while to find all the answers he yearned to uncover.
“Cheserith appeared as a man, fair and handsome. Many described his blond hair as more lustrous than gold. His eyes were a blazing sapphire. He often wore a robe bearing symbols that denoted the aspects of his teachings, which he shared freely among humankind.”
- From The Thousand Years War, Part I, page 19
Krindal eagerly loomed over the projection of his mapping tevisral, his hands gripping the table’s edge. A thrill of anticipation rose within him. He would actually see the wonders of an ancient Kaldean civilization.