Sovereign (The Gods' Game, Volume IV)

by Vider, Rohan M.

  The crystal was similar to the one Mirien carried, only smaller and more limited in range. As he was studying the crystal, the inner door of the receiving chamber opened and in stepped Tehrilan and an older woman.

  Tehrilan bowed in Mirien’s direction. “Welcome to the mage guild, Milady. Thank you for accepting my invite,” said the mage, his eyes fixed on the whiesper.

  Mirien smiled. “I was not aware it was a request, councillor.”

  The mage waved aside her comment. “It is for your own safety of course. I must check that the enchantments on the amulets are still active. May I?” he asked, gesturing towards Mirien.

  At her nod, the mage sauntered forward and lifted the amulet off her. Turning to the rest of the party, he introduced his companion. “This is Senior Mage Lutriel. She will check your amulets.”

  It appeared the rest of them were not important enough to warrant the personal attention of the guild master. Kyran glanced at the immaculately groomed mage leaning over Mirien’s shorter form and scowled. The mage seemed to be much closer to the whiesper than he needed to be.

  Lutriel was an older silver-haired elf with a wrinkled face and kindly eyes. She made her way first to Aiken. Inclining her head respectfully at the great bear, she said, “With your permission, great one, I will attach a longer chain to your amulet so that it can be fastened around your neck instead.” Aiken huffed his consent and the mage set to work.

  “How do the amulets function?” asked Gaesin curiously when Lutriel was done with Aiken.

  “The spell woven within the amulets masks your divine signature, preventing you from being tracked by divine means,” said the mage. “Although it will not prevent your presence from being revealed by other means of magical scrying.”

  One by one, Lutriel assessed and renewed the enchantments of the party’s amulets with quick, deft touches. Stepping back, she said, “All done.”

  Kyran glanced towards the guild leader. He, too, was done, but continued to ignore the rest of the party in favour of his low-voiced conversation with Mirien.

  “Where to next?” Kyran asked Lothar loudly.

  The protector glanced at him. “Well, if we are done here, I guess—”

  He was cut short by Tehrilan. “Nonsense,” said the mage, clasping one of Mirien’s hands firmly in his own. “Let me escort you through the guild, Milady. We have many enchantments and scrolls available for trade that may be of use to your party.”

  “Excellent!” Kyran said, speaking before Mirien could. “That is very kind of you, Tehrilan. Unfortunately, we don’t have time for all of us to stay and explore the wonders of your guild.” He pulled Gaesin forward. “Gaesin here will accompany you while the rest of us see to our other errands.”

  Tehrilan’s brows drew down in consternation, and he looked like he was about to object, but before he could speak Kyran pulled out the pouch of gems he had taken off Lesh. Opening the drawstrings of the pouch, he let some fall into his waiting hands in a glittering cascade of colour.

  Tehrilan’s eyes widened at the sight of the polished and cut gems. “Where did you get those?” he whispered.

  Ignoring the mage, Kyran handed over half of the gems to Gaesin. “Here, use this to trade for anything useful, both for yourself and the party.” Then noting the avarice in the guild master’s eyes, he leaned in close to the half-elf and added in a low-voiced whisper, “Spend them wisely, and don’t let the mages swindle you.”

  Gaesin straightened, proud of the responsibility entrusted to him. Adra coughed into her hand. Kyran looked at her. Was she laughing at him?

  Ignoring the wolven, he turned to the protector. “Come, Lothar, let us be on our way.”

  ✽✽✽

  Kyran breathed a sigh of relief as the party escaped the clutches of the guild master with Gaesin the only casualty. “Phew,” he said. “I’m glad we got out of there.”

  Mirien laughed. “I don’t know, Kyran. Tehrilan seemed… nice.”

  Kyran glanced at the whiesper in suspicion. Was she laughing at him too? Seeing the amused glint in her eyes he realised she was. Flushing slightly, he turned to Lothar. “Where to next, Protector?”

  The old warrior’s face was free of any trace of a smile. “We could return to the barracks or go to the market. There are many more traders there that will be eager for those gems you have.”

  “The market, then,” said Kyran, striding forward. But despite his determination to flee far and fast from the mage guild, the party had not advanced much before Kyran’s steps slowed again. He caught sight of a distinctive-looking building near the settlement’s centre.

  “What is that?” he asked, stopping altogether as he gazed upon a striking tower of green and brown wrapped around the trunk of a giant sequoia tree. Extending an impressive six floors in height from the ground, the tower didn’t appear as if it had been built, rather grown, with its outer walls seamed, gnarled, and following the natural contours of its parent tree. Within the building, whose walls overflowed with green shoots and young boughs, Kyran could make out lights and blurred forms.

  Lothar turned in the direction he was gazing, “Ah, that is the Tower of Knowledge.” His look turned wry. “The name is a bit grandiose sounding, I admit, but it is the pride of our town and a testament to what can be achieved even without essence technology. The tower was created from the branches of the sequoia, grown and nurtured over the centuries by our wood shapers into the form you see now—much like the briar wall around the settlement.”

  “Remarkable,” said Kyran, fascinated.

  “What’s inside?” asked Adra.

  “Books,” replied Lothar. “The tower serves as the central repository of all the knowledge our scouts managed to salvage over the years from Crotana’s ruins.”

  Books, thought Kyran in excitement. All desire to visit the market vanished. There was no way he could pass the tower without visiting and spending a few hours—at least—perusing its store of knowledge.

  “I can hear him,” said Mirien suddenly, her voice a half-strangled whisper.

  The odd note in her voice pulled Kyran out of his distracted musings. “Who?” he asked in confusion.

  “The grandfather sequoia,” Mirien replied. The awe was clear in her voice now. “He is not sleeping like the others—he’s awake!” She turned shining eyes towards Lothar. “How is this possible?”

  “I do not know,” he confessed. “The tower’s creation is ingenuity born of necessity—and sorrow. When the last of your house died, and the wood shapers thought the line of Tolyrandil no more, they gave expression to their grief with yonder creation.” He fell silent a moment. “Perhaps the forest itself also grieved. The wood shapers say the grandfather sequoia responded like never before to their will.”

  Joyful tears streamed down Mirien’s face. “He is awake and happy, and he’s pleased with the new purpose given to him.”

  “That will delight the wood shapers to no end,” said Lothar, smiling. “They have been quite adamant over the years that the grandfather guided their hands, but most dismissed their words as fanciful utterances.” He cocked his head in thought. “They have been quite anxious to speak to you. Perhaps a visit to their guild house is in order?”

  Mirien nodded distractedly. “Yes of course, but first I must commune with the grandfather.” Not bothering to explain further, Mirien shadow stepped to the sequoia’s side. Then, closing her eyes, placed her hands against his sides.

  Kyran looked to Lothar for an explanation. The old protector was staring at the distant shape of Mirien in amusement. “I had forgotten how single-minded the Tolyrandils can be when it comes to the grandfathers,” he murmured. He glanced at Kyran. “She is communing with the tree,” he explained as he began walking towards Mirien.

  Kyran nodded slowly as he stepped up to Lothar’s side. Glancing at the tree, he probed it with insight.

  Name: None. Race: Grandfather sequoia, awake (sentient plant).

  Level: 104. Health: 3060.

 
Stamina: 450. Will: 1760. Essence: 600.

  Attack: 0 (blunt).

  Defences: Physical (124), psi (155), spell (115).

  Class: None.

  Traits and abilities:

  Unknown (Your level is too low to perceive this).

  Description:

  Grandfathers are amongst the most unique of Myelad’s sentient species. Akin to elder beasts, these denizens of the Elder Forest have, through eons of life, evolved into true sentience. Yet unlike their beast kin, grandfathers are less active in the world and over the ages have concerned themselves only with the doings in the Elder Forest. Ever secretive, all grandfathers shun both name and gender. Even after millennia of existence, still not much is known of the ancient trees. When roused, their wrath is said to be fearsome.

  As they drew alongside Mirien, Kyran studied her blank face and closed eyes. “How long will her commune last?”

  “Hours, most likely,” replied Lothar. “The grandfathers’ manner of speech is long and drawn out. We should continue on our way. Mersyl and Lyle will keep an eye on her.”

  “Can I visit the library? Is that allowed?”

  Lothar’s brows lifted in surprise. “Of course,” he said. “Come, I’ll introduce you to the head librarian. He can be quite fussy about who he allows to handle his treasures.”

  Chapter 27

  09 Novo 2603 AB

  Earth magic is the magics of the soil, rock, nature, and its wrath. Earth magic is a discipline that provides a good balance between defensive abilities such as barkskin and iron skin, and offensive abilities such as earthquakes and poison. —Telthamos, archmage.

  The Tower of Knowledge was a warren of cosy chambers, each interconnected by winding and narrow corridors, and brightly lit with glowing crystals. Every room was lined with shelves and they brimmed with books of all sorts and sizes. Kyran realised that many of the library’s rooms had to have been carved out from within the trunk of the grandfather sequoia itself.

  Kyran followed Lothar deeper into the tower, and a quiet and contented smile lit his face as the scent of parchment and living, breathing wood filled his senses. It had been too long since he had been around books.

  Aiken and Adra had elected not to join Kyran in his visit to the tower. Adra herself had little interest in books, and Aiken was simply too large to navigate the twisting passages of the tower. The pair planned on continuing to the market with Lothar after the protector introduced Kyran to the librarian.

  Lothar and Kyran reached their destination, a small office on the tower’s top floor, without challenge. The head librarian was a bespectacled, hunched-over elf, who sprightly moved forward to greet them.

  “Lothar,” greeted the elf in a thin reedy voice. “My, my. Twice in two days, this is a surprise. I hope you are not here looking for more information on coronation ceremonies? I’ve already given you everything I could find on that.”

  Lothar shot Kyran an embarrassed glance before laughing awkwardly. “No, nothing like that. I have brought someone to meet you. Sithar, meet Kyran, the free agent. Kyran, this is Sithar, Eldervale’s head librarian.”

  Sithar shuffled uncomfortably close to Kyran and peered at Kyran with hawk-like intensity over his thick-rimmed glasses. “A boy,” he grunted, turning away dismissively. “No doubt as callow and uneducated your other muscle-bound youths running about town.”

  “Now, Sithar, be nice,” said Lothar. “Kyran is a guest of the dowager.”

  Ignoring Lothar, Sithar asked brusquely, “What do you want, boy?”

  Kyran, however, was not cowed by the old elf’s demeanour. Eldervale seems full of irascible old elves. He bowed politely. “I would appreciate it, sir, if you granted me access to your library’s store of knowledge.”

  Sithar grunted, unimpressed. “This library is huge. There are thousands of books here,” he said, not without a trace of pride in his voice. “What exactly are you looking for? I don’t suppose you have months to crawl through every book and scroll stored here.”

  Kyran would like nothing more, but the old elf had a point. Even though he had far more questions than he had answers about the Game, Myelad, and its people, his time was limited.

  As much as it pained him to admit, he knew he would have to restrict his study in the library to topics of immediate benefit. “I’d like to see whatever information you have on the beasts of the Elder Forest,” he said after a moment of thought.

  “A wise choice,” said Lothar, nodding approvingly. “Knowing more of the Elder Forest’s creatures would make your journey out of the forest easier.”

  Kyran only smiled in response, not bothering to correct Lothar.

  “You’ll want the Bestiary Room, then,” said Sithar. “I will have a page escort you there.”

  ✽✽✽

  The aptly named Bestiary Room was barely large enough to house the tiny table and two chairs placed in its centre. Yet despite its small size, the room’s overflowing shelves contained over a hundred books, all of them related in some manner to Myelad’s beasts and monsters.

  Perusing the shelves, Kyran saw books on griffins, centipedes, hydras, golems, elementals… and even dragons. As much as his fingers itched to pick up the leather-bound volume on dragon lore and dive in, he continued searching the shelves.

  Many of the books bore signs of scorching or scarring, or they were torn and otherwise damaged. Yet all appeared to have been lovingly restored. The elves expended a lot of effort in recovering Crotana’s lost knowledge, he thought in admiration.

  Eventually he spotted a book titled: An Encyclopaedia of Myelad’s Beasts and Monsters, that appeared suitable. While the book was not exactly what he searched for, it would further his education on a subject of particular interest. Pulling down the thick, vellum-bound tome, he placed it on the table and continued scanning the shelves.

  Disappointingly, he found no books dedicated solely to the beasts of the Elder Forest. Not letting himself be discouraged, he sat down and began reading. He would plumb its depths before moving on to other volumes. Somewhere in this room, he was sure he would find the information he needed…

  ✽✽✽

  Kyran was deep in his study of the encyclopaedia, reading a fascinating passage on timber wolves, when he heard footsteps pause at the door. Expecting to find one of the library’s young pages, he was startled to see it was Talien. “Commander, did the dowager send you to find me?” he asked.

  The ranger had paused at the door and appeared just as startled to see Kyran. After a moment’s hesitation, he stepped inside. “Free agent,” he greeted. “No, she didn’t. I’m here of my own accord.”

  “Oh,” said Kyran, not letting his disappointment show.

  “Actually, I am surprised to find you here. Sithar gave you access to his books?”

  “He did. Lothar introduced us.”

  Talien nodded. Then, seeming disinterested in further conversation, he drifted towards the shelves.

  Kyran pursed his lips as he watched Talien scan the books. The gruff ranger captain was the last person he’d expected to encounter in the library. Was the elf keeping an eye on him? It couldn’t be coincidence that he was in the same room as Kyran. “Forgive me, Talien, but what are you doing here?”

  The scarred ranger pivoted to face him and studied him thoughtfully for a second before replying. “Looking for more information on worgs, if you must know.”

  “Worgs?” asked Kyran, momentarily perplexed. Then it clicked. He sat back. “You could have asked me.”

  Talien’s eyes flicked down to the encyclopaedia then back to Kyran. The ranger gestured with his chin at the open book. “You could have too.”

  Kyran chuckled. Talien was right. The rangers should have been the first ones he turned to for knowledge on the Elder Forest’s beasts. It seemed he carried his own share of mistrust for the commander.

  “You’re right,” Kyran admitted. He spreads his hands wide, palms up. “How about we set aside our differences and start over? We are not enemie
s, you know.”

  Talien studied him coolly for another long moment, before nodding curtly and taking a seat opposite Kyran. “Why did you think the dowager sent me?” the ranger asked.

  “I’ve requested to see her again.”

  Talien grunted. “Why?”

  “The dowager was too hasty in her decision. I believe I can help Eldervale,” Kyran said.

  Talien scoffed in disbelief. Kyran held up his hands. “Hear me out, please. I have a plan, possibly two. The first is more certain to work, but is not without consequences. The second”—he glanced down at the book—“maybe you can help me with that.”

  Talien followed his gaze downwards but remained silent, waiting for Kyran to explain further. “Do you know how I survived the Labyrinth?” Kyran asked.

  Talien rolled his shoulders. “Luck?” he suggested.

  Kyran smiled, unoffended. “No,” he said. “I am a wild druid.”

  The ranger’s eyes narrowed. “A wild druid? I thought you were a shifter. I have never heard of such a class.”

  “At level one, I tamed a level seven rock beetle. At level ten, I tamed a level twenty giant scorpion, and in the mountains, just before we entered the forest, I befriended four adept-ranked mountain wyverns.” He leaned forward and stared intently at Talien. “Do you know where I am going with this, Commander?”

  The ranger stared wide-eyed at Kyran before his gaze drifted unwillingly back to the open book between them.

  “That’s right, Talien,” said Kyran. “Imagine what Eldervale could do with four master-ranked beasts—if not more—on our side when we face Misteria’s champion.”

  Talien blinked. “Master-ranked?” he mouthed. Then he blinked again, hope churning in his eyes. “We could win,” he murmured, half-disbelieving.

  “Yes, Commander, we can.”

  “It will still not be easy,” Talien said, thinking hard. The light in his eyes dimmed as reality intruded. “And the toll in lives will be high, but if you can do this, we will have a chance.” He fixed Kyran with a fierce stare. “Are you sure you can do this, free agent?”