Soldiers of the Heavens

by Stephen L. Nowland

  “If this place has a portal,” Robert mused, “what was the point of that trip through the Aether? Couldn’t we have come here directly?”

  “This portal only accepts connections with one other, the portal we came through,” Terinus explained. “In the infinite expanse of the Aether, one must know precisely where to find it, or it remains hidden.”

  They fell quiet as they moved through the silent hall, a place which reminded Aiden of the acadian palace they had once visited, years ago. The sweeping hall of carved stone imitated the greenery of the world it had once been a part of. It had a haunted feel to it, as if the spirits of those who once lived here had remained, despite the long centuries. Presently, they arrived at a chamber just off the main hall which took Aiden’s breath away.

  It resembled a library, with row upon row of shelves stretching off into the distance. Although not very wide, the chamber seemed to disappear beyond sight. Ancient tomes sat upon the dusty shelves, illuminated by small glass spheres with steady white light. Aiden’s mind whirled at the possibilities before him, thinking of the ancient magic that could be contained on those shelves.

  “This is staggering,” Pacian breathed as he took in the view. “Why did we even bother with that other place you took us to first?” A pile of rock in the shadows, unnoticed in the immensity of their surroundings began to shift and stir. Each rock piled on top of the other, forming legs, then a craggy torso and massive arms, and finally a head with blazing eye sockets and a gaping maw.

  “Because it is forbidden,” Terinus answered Pacian belatedly as they looked up at a towering construct of stone. Aiden felt his heart race as the immense thing stomped slowly towards them. As one, they reached for their weapons, but were halted by a raised hand from Terinus. The golem’s eyes locked on the wizard, and when it finally came to a stop it had clearly singled him out from the crowd.

  “Terinus Arai,” a lyrical but disembodied feminine voice echoed from the depths of the monster, as unexpected as anything else in this place. “You should not have returned. If you thought the passing of a millennium would dull my memory, you were mistaken.” The sound of grinding stone caught Aiden’s attention, and looking around he saw the doorways close, sealed off by tons of living rock.

  “Maybe you should get in contact with the woman controlling this thing,” Nellise suggested, staying calm in the face of the construct.

  “This is her,” the wizard responded, much to the astonishment and confusion of the others. “Janthiir,” he rasped, addressing the golem, “I did not come here to steal or plunder, nor am I working at the behest of my masters. I speak to you not as a puppet of the sa’quaarin, but as a cousin looking for aid.”

  “Lies,” the woman’s voice accused, clenching one of its massive fists and sending it hurtling towards the wizard to stop only inches from his face. Sayana, her arms raised as if holding back the fist with sheer force of will, drifted forward with her eyes blazing white.

  I can’t let you do that, she warned, drawing the construct’s attention.

  “Your pet sorcerer will not save you,” Janthiir remarked in a detached fashion.

  “I do not control her, nor do my masters,” Terinus explained. “She is subject only to her own will, as am I. I tell you again, I do not work for the sa’quaarin. I seek to thwart their designs and shake off the yoke of centuries.” The construct seemed to consider this for a moment, thinking and acting as if it were a real person. Could it really hold the mind of a once-living soul within its rocky depths? Aiden knew little of the creation of such constructs, but the evidence stood right before him.

  “Even if what you say is true,” Janthiir said, “you know well the contents of this reliquary are forbidden. I am honour-bound to prevent anyone taking them, and here, in this place, my will cannot be denied.”

  “This cache was made to store weapons and equipment against the day when they are needed to fight the Enemy,” Terinus replied. “I am telling you that day has arrived. Though we are far removed from our origins, we are still connected, you and I. Our minds were trained in the halls of acadia, and we both still desire to protect our legacy. I do not ask this lightly, Janthiir, for we have both sacrificed much to come this far — my soul, and your body. But we can still make a difference, if you are willing.”

  The construct stood perfectly still, staring down at Terinus. It was an earnest speech, but appealing to the feelings of a being whose heart was literally made of stone may not have been the best course of action.

  “Countless lives were lost in the creation of this reliquary,” Janthiir intoned. “I cannot dishonour their sacrifice by altering the rules of my existence. The relics contained within are far too dangerous to fall into the wrong hands. I have lost my body, for transferring my mind to this form was the only way to carry out my oath. You spurned everything you were raised to believe in, and through an act of cowardice became enslaved to the enemy we long sought to defeat. Do not think to compare us to each other.”

  “It was wrong of me to suggest it,” Terinus replied soberly with a slight inclination of his head. “I come here in supplication, hoping to make use of our one opportunity to strike back at the sa’quaarin. These people have agreed to help, risking their lives and those of their people to aid me, but if I cannot convince you of the urgency of this moment, I will ask only that you permit us to leave and find the weapons we need elsewhere.”

  Aiden held his breath as the construct pondered this. He silently hoped there was enough of the woman she had once been still alive within the stone to see their need, and help them.

  “I had my doubts about Terinus too, but he went to great lengths to make his case,” he said, drawing the attention of her fiery eyes. “Would it help if we vowed to return them when we are done? Having seen the power of some of the sa’quaarin relics first-hand, I have no problem relinquishing them after our task is complete.”

  “I see you understand the nature of true power,” Janthiir remarked, looking down at his clawed hand. Aiden had forgotten to cover it in a glove before leaving, having found acceptance in Criosa’s loving embrace. In hindsight, he probably should have kept it covered.

  “Yes, I have power at my fingertips,” he answered, “but power comes with a price, which I have learned all too well. We don’t seek the power you guard for ourselves. We wish to protect those who cannot protect themselves. Against the power of the sa’quaarin, who else can?” Nellise caught his eye, giving him a nod of approval. It was also possible she was just pleased he had actually listened to one of her sermons for once. Janthiir considered this for a moment, and then turned to Sayana.

  “You bear the markings of the enemy’s weapon,” Janthiir remarked to the sorceress. “Never have I seen such an extensive transformation. Tell me, is this the result of Terinus’ experiments?”

  I chose this for myself, Sayana informed her. Terinus did offer it to another, but the risks were too great. Having already undergone the procedure once in my life, I felt I was best equipped to survive another. Like you, I felt it was necessary, though I will never be the same again.

  “You speak well in his defence,” Janthiir responded. “I find your case compelling, and though there are many reasons for me to cast you back into the Aether, I find myself moved to aid you.” Aiden breathed a sigh of relief as the tension evaporated. The walls unsealed and revealed the exit, but Janthiir made no effort to evict them from the reliquary. More walls slid open along the sides, revealing row after row of astonishing weaponry and armour.

  “That’s just great,” Robert said with a relieved grin on his face. “So… what have you got?”

  Chapter Eight

  Sayana was forced to squint against the intensity of magic radiating from the equipment lining the walls. Although Janthiir opened only a small section of the vault, it was clear to Sayana’s enhanced vision the place was literally glowing with arcane power. The elves of acadia had invested considerable effort to ensure the edifice withstood the passage of time.<
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  The construct itself was fascinating. Janthiir’s aura was visible through the barrel-like chest of stone, and it surprised Sayana with its simple, calm energy. The sorceress knew from personal experience that emotions were very much seated in the body, and it was entirely possible the transference into a form that did not age had detached Janthiir from the feelings she knew when she was mortal. Serenity was a curious by-product of the process, one which allowed her spirit to endure.

  Given the age of the construct, Sayana was certain Janthiir’s language would have been indecipherable to all of them except Terinus. Even if she knew how to speak a thousand-year old variant of Aielish, it would have been just as impractical. The simple fact they could understand her, and the rather stilted manner of her speech indicated some sort of translation magic was at work. Sayana was able to identify and follow a thread of energy between her and Janthiir, which seemed to be connected to this process.

  “Is this the equipment you would wield against the sa’quaarin?” Janthiir asked after taking in their appearance with eyes of brilliant fire. “You will not last a minute on the battlefield against their might.”

  “A lot can happen in a minute,” Robert replied, “but I’m the first to admit our gear is… lacking.”

  “Your sword,” Janthiir noted, staring at the greatsword strapped to Robert’s back. For the first time since their meeting, Sayana detected a strong current of emotion in her voice. “It is Aeon Invictus, my final creation. I thought it lost in the assault on the Akashic Throne. How did you acquire it?”

  “I brought it back with me, upon my return as their agent,” Terinus explained. “It has been hanging on my wall, in a place which does not age, ever since. It is fitting the weapon will be used to fight the sa’quaarin once again.”

  “What is the ‘Akashic Throne’?” Nellise inquired.

  “Akashic is an ancient word for ‘sky’, and refers to what we call the sa’quaarin fortress,” Terinus answered. “It resides high above the surface, and from their lofty throne they look down upon this world of Aeos as if they rule it.”

  “I will grant one item from the vault for each of you, to aid in this task,” Janthiir intoned. “I am bending the words of my oath doing even this much. I dare not grant more, lest the day come when this arsenal is needed in earnest. Choose.”

  “Armour,” Robert requested as his eyes drifted to the glittering treasures only yards away. A shelf extended out from the wall with the sound of grinding stone, upon which lay a suit of shining plate armour.

  “I oversaw the crafting of many suits of this armour during the latter years of my tenure in acadia,” Janthiir explained as Robert went in for a closer look. “Mail fashioned of chain links was always the most popular style, yet I believed a suit of solid plates would provide more protection. The additional weight of quality steel was not appreciated by warriors accustomed and trained for full freedom of movement, so I sourced rare and precious vythir for these suits. Only five were made, intended for use by officers and dignitaries who wore them with honour, until the end.”

  “An entire suit of vythir,” Robert breathed in astonishment as he examined a gauntlet. “As much as I’d love to wear this, it’s not going to be big enough. Acadian elves aren’t the heftiest people I’ve ever met.”

  “You underestimate me,” Janthiir admonished him. She raised one blocky stone hand and each piece of the suit lifted into the air and flew towards her. The sound of metal being bent and reshaped by invisible forces was heard as the ancient artificer adjusted it to suit Robert’s bulkier frame. Sayana was suitably impressed by the subtle manipulation of energy, and within moments each piece of the suit attached itself to Robert’s body until he was fully clad in the resilient, gleaming metal.

  “Okay, I’ll take it,” he said, affecting only mild interest as he flexed his gauntleted fists. Sayana could sense the excitement he sought to keep in check bubbling under the surface, as was his way. She smiled slightly at his little quirks, finding them as enchanting as always. Janthiir turned to Nellise, who glanced over the items on display looking for something in particular.

  “I was hoping to find a crossbow of some sort in here,” she mused.

  “I am not sure what you are referring to,” Janthiir hedged cautiously.

  “The crossbow wasn’t invented in Janthiir’s time,” Terinus rasped. “It is unlikely you will find such a weapon in this arsenal.”

  “Elves favour the longbow, and I have a mighty one you can use,” Janthiir suggested, but received a shake of Nellise’s head in reply.

  “I never learned how to use one, and this is hardly the time to start. Never mind, I should take some armour anyway.”

  “As you wish,” the construct intoned, performing the same adjustment on another suit of vythiric plate armour to suit Nellise’s feminine shape. She looked astonishing once fully clad, which suited her fair hair and regal bearing much more than Robert’s eyepatch and unshaven chin.

  “What would you ask of me, Sayana?” Janthiir asked while Pacian’s eyes took in Nellise’s splendour, almost popping out in the process.

  I need nothing from you, for I have already received the weapon I need to fight this enemy, the sorceress replied.

  “If she doesn’t want anything, I could use something else too,” Robert suggested with a self-conscious cough.

  “Are you so greedy you would ask for more than you have already been given?” Janthiir grated, her voice more disappointed than angry.

  “Sy’s not taking something, so that’s another thing for someone else,” Robert pointed out. “Besides, I don’t want anything from your armoury — this is more like a favour.”

  “Ask,” Janthiir suggested suspiciously. Robert drew his blade and held it before him with both hands.

  “Can you shrink this for me?” he asked. Janthiir stared at him unmoving for a long moment before answering.

  “…What?”

  “Just a little,” Robert pressed. “Greatswords may have been the thing a thousand years ago, but they’re a good way to get yourself killed in modern warfare. Sure, you can cut a man in half, but it’s far better to go with a smaller blade and use a shield. Bloody longbows and crossbows can go right through most armour, and it’s better to take it on a shield if you can, especially if you’ve got the best one ever made, like I do.”

  “I can accommodate your request,” the construct agreed reluctantly, “but you are asking me to deface one of my greatest works.”

  “Don’t think of it as defacement. Think of it as modernisation,” Robert suggested dryly. They stared at each other a little longer, and then Janthiir raised her ‘hand’ and Aeon Invictus began to shrink.

  “Not too much now,” Robert cautioned. “…There, that ought to do it.” It was still larger than the elven blade Robert had given to Aiden, but the mercenary was able to heft the long sword in one hand as he put it through some practice swings. “Beautiful,” he murmured in approval.

  “My turn,” an impatient Pacian said, looking over the small selection of Janthiir’s undoubtedly gigantic collection.

  “What do you desire?” the construct asked.

  “Protection of some sort,” Pacian answered. “Don’t try putting me in one of those suits though, I still want to stay mobile.”

  “When facing harm, one must either withstand it, or avoid it,” Janthiir counseled. Another shelf emerged from the wall, but appeared to be empty. Sayana squinted at it and discerned a trace of something else which she didn’t quite understand.

  “You want me to wear a shelf?” Pacian quipped.

  “I want you to hold still.” Janthiir gestured and a wisp of violet light shot forth from the shelf, engulfing Pacian from head to toe. He faded from sight briefly before reappearing, staring at the violet mist surrounding him in astonishment.

  “You are wearing Aethereal Armour, fashioned from the realm outside this edifice,” Janthiir explained. “It enables the wearer to travel between this realm and the Material P
lane of their own world at will. If you are reasonably intelligent, I have no doubt you will be able to fathom the uses of such power.” Pacian disappeared from sight and reappeared a heartbeat later behind the construct.

  “Yeah I’ll think of something,” he smirked viciously as he poked Vigilance’s blade through a gap in the stone which formed Janthiir’s body.

  “Please don’t do that,” she instructed patiently before turning to Terinus. “What would you ask of me, cousin?”

  “Like Sayana, I too am already sufficiently dangerous,” the wizard rasped. “I will not burden you further.”

  “I find your humility surprising,” Janthiir pondered idly. “Perhaps I have indeed been wrong about you these many years.”

  “Your opinion was based on the available facts,” Terinus responded. “I would have thought the same.”

  Sayana watched as Aiden stepped forward to peruse the available offerings. Curious weapons and armour beckoned to him, yet he seemed distracted.

  “You have collected much over the centuries,” Aiden remarked to Janthiir. “I’m looking for anything you have of sa’quaarin origin.”

  “This vault does hold a small number of their relics, taken from the few sa’quaarin who fell to acadian forces over the centuries, but I do not know how to use them,” Janthiir cautioned as another part of the wall grated open, revealing a small collection of dark, shiny objects. “It is entirely possible they cannot function away from their masters, so I caution you against choosing anything from this area.”

  The objects appeared quite ordinary to Sayana’s extraordinary sight, yet she knew from experience the potential contained within these seemingly inert devices. Whatever powered their effects, it was not magic in a conventional sense. Aiden and Terinus knew more about these relics than anyone alive, and neither seemed perturbed by Janthiir’s warning.

  Aiden looked over the collection closely before fixating on a familiar looking object. He lifted a gauntlet from the pile and examined it carefully, with hands shaking with anticipation. Sayana recalled he used one just like it years ago, a powerful artefact which bestowed tremendous strength upon the wielder.