by Olivia Ali
“Yep, that’s him alright. Do you reckon she was there with him…he had to have known my relation to her surely...” he trailed off and began pacing in frustration.
“Well we can add that to the list of questions we have to ask him when we finally catch up to him.”
“Well if it helps, he was in Az Landen forest when I appeared to him.”
“It would make sense for him to be there, Tristan has family there. But something tells me his family do not know Cedric is there. It gives us a lead all the same.”
Merlin pursed his lips as he leant back in his chair, stroking his bearded chin as though he were deep in thought. Dante’s eyes trailed back towards the dove on the box lid as he came to a stop by the table once more, his brain racing trying to figure out why the mere image of it made him feel the way it did. Merlin eventually noticed the way he was staring and leant forward, closing the lid and looking at the box in a funny angle. He turned it upside down and saw a metal key in the base and began turning it as though he were winding up a music box of some sort. Once he finished turning the key, Dante watched as the pattern on the lid of the box changed to resemble a glyph he recognised as the glyph of Union. He was marvelled by the change, his eyes widening as Merlin turned the box to face him.
“Only a member of Union can open the secret compartment.” he said, a glint sparkling in the old man’s eyes.
“How?” The memory of the box seemed to strike a chord somewhere in the back of Dante’s mind but he couldn’t tie it to an origin.
“Just touch it!”
Looking up at Merlin, Dante outstretched his right hand placing it firmly on the Union glyph. As he did so, a satisfying click broke the silence of the room – a small drawer popping out of the bottom of the box making Dante jump slightly. Merlin nodded to him and he pulled the drawer open as far as it would go. On the inside was another small pile of photographs with a handkerchief next to it which seemed like it held something within it.
“This box belonged to Nielson; he gave it to Dagnen as a wedding present.” Merlin explained. “I believe he crafted it himself, but I do not imagine Dags ever found the secret compartment if only a member of Union can open it.”
Carefully, Dante lifted out the handkerchief of which he noticed had a sigil embroidered into the centre. He recognised the sigil to be his own family name; the mountain in the centre with the cloud of ash embracing the fire atop it. The material of it was silky smooth and he could feel the cool metal of something concealed within it. Carefully, he unwrapped the hidden object only to gasp when he saw the contents. It was the Onyxum Flambertus; a huge onyx stone encased by a golden wing effect with a chain for it to be worn. The necklace itself was crafted by the third generation of Union when the Faders first came into existence – they used as a way of sealing them in the Faded Lands. However, something in their manufacture went wrong and the pair became a way of summoning the Faders onto the surface world. When the necklaces were reclaimed, they were placed under the protection of the fifth generation. With only one here, Dante had no idea where the other might have been, only that its placement here in this box had to be kept a secret lest it fall into the wrong hands.
He placed the Onyxum back in the handkerchief and replaced it in its place in the drawer. Next he grabbed the small pile of photographs and handed them to Merlin as he took a seat at the table, already knowing that he himself would not know who was in each one. Taking the hint, Merlin turned over the first picture and showed it to Dante, a fond smile upon his face.
“I remember Nielson showing me these photos upon our reunion a few short years ago,” he began, hovering the picture in front of Dante’s eyes. “He was rather proud of the little family he managed to raise.”
Dante stared at the picture before his eyes, recognising the woman instantly – his own Ana-Maria. She, like him, was a lady of high acclaim and in the eyes of class, their match would never have been approved simply because his standing had been lost and her father was a proud man. However, they had gone against everyone’s wishes and married anyway, causing Ana-Maria’s father to disown her. Her brother was a member of the Hammerite faction and not even he had approved of their relationship. Despite this, he seemed to have done his best to help raise the family Dante had missed out on out of respect for Ana-Maria. Aled was indeed a man with questionable loyalties.
In the picture, his bride was as beautiful as he remembered, her stunning green eyes still striking him with the same warmth and admiration as they had done all those years ago. He even recalled fondly how much he had loved the dress she wore; a green bodice that was cut at the waist by a yellow sash which draped past her knees. The skirt was an overskirt that seemed to cut it at the knees before the same green of the bodice concealed her feet from sight. Her shoulders were left bare, her arms cropped by a yellow shawl which reached the ground. Dark brown locks were covered over by an emerald headdress which was kept in place by a lily at the side of her ear leaving a couple of curls either side to frame her slender face.
Ana-Maria stood gracefully in the arms of her lover as the two cradled one another in the middle of a ballroom. Dante himself certainly looked the part of a courtier – a perhaps worthier match than his actual status – his hair was much shorter and held back into a ponytail. His eyes were brighter too, much happier days were his past but now his eyes were shadowed by the darkness he had lived in for so long. Even his clothes were more colourful, less dusty and certainly completing the look he was obviously aiming for at the time. A green tunic clung tightly to his torso, belted at the waist with beige trimmings that left his chest bare. His leggings matched the colour of the trimmings and knee high black boots which matched the belt. It certainly was an impressive attire and the two together looked the perfect couple.
He smiled fondly, recalling the moment the two of them had shared that night at the election of the new earldom. A ball had been thrown in celebration and of course, Dante’s attire was the ultimate disguise and it had done the trick – that night he assumed the title of Lord Ash of Ashdowns. Balderick had called bullshit but that didn’t mean that the stupid high-borns had distrusted his title. They believed every lie he spewed!
“I remember this night as though it were yesterday,” Dante recalled. “God I miss her!”
“She truly was a beauty,” Merlin agreed. “And I’ll tell you now, Dagnen was the image of her…but you’ll see that for yourself in a moment. Would you like to see your son?”
Dante looked up without hesitation, guilt tainting the happiness in his eyes. Even though his betrayal hadn’t exactly been his fault, it didn’t help how he felt about the whole ordeal. Silently, Merlin handed him the next picture of a rather exhausted Ana-Maria hunched over with a baby in her arms. The picture only just showed his face and sparkling blue eyes which matched Dante’s own. He smiled at the familiarity of him, flinching slightly as Merlin slipped another picture into his hands.
“Ana-Maria passed not long after that picture was taken,” Merlin explained. “She went into early labour whilst Aled was escorting them across the border of Aberson. They believe that she must have caught some form of infection somewhere along the line. She died just after they arrived so Aled took it upon himself to raise your son.”
Dante took note of the boy stood beside the man he recognised to be Aled clad in the red robes of a Hammerite Priest with a ruby topped staff at his side. His head was covered by a blonde bowl haircut with a cleanly shaved jawline. The boy stood beside him must’ve been no older than nine or ten. It was a big change from the new-born baby but Dante was glad to see his own eyes looking right back at him. Young Jacob even looked like he did at that age; pale skin that was whiter still against his dark hair which was a messy mop on the top of his head. Another picture was slipped in front of him and Dante watched the boy grow older still, this time to about sixteen. It looked as though he had just been named a novice of the Hammerite faction as he stood there shaking Aled’s hand with an excited look on his ambit
ious face. Again, it was a look Dante recognised as his own, the boy or man as he was now in a new picture, truly was his father’s son as he stood about twenty-one fully clad in the armour of a Hammerite soldier.
“That’s the most recent picture this collection has of him,” Merlin said with reluctance, wishing he could show Dante more. “However, Nielson may have a few in a private collection. I do have a last couple of pictures to show you though, this one of your grandchildren.”
A short smile appeared on Dante’s face as he set eyes upon the picture of two young children with a woman and a man. The man he recognised as Nielson – he was older, much older but he still had the same dark eyes hidden by a heavy brow. The lines on his face tainted the young picture Dante recalled in his head as they wrinkled his forehead and lined his eyes. He seemed happy, a healthy greying beard clinging to his chin with hair of a matching colour that just scraped his shoulders. The woman in the picture was knelt down in-between the two children. She had a certain look about her, like she was more than the picture made her seem but he wasn’t sure why.
“The woman is Neym,” Merlin explained, noticing his forehead wrinkle in thought. This picture was done not long before she died I believe. Xavier is about thirteen making Dagnen about eight.”
“He’s short for a thirteen-year-old!” Dante sniggered.
“So were you.”
Dante scowled, looking back down at the picture. It was clear to see that Xavier was every bit the image of his mother; blonde hair gracing his shoulders just as hers whipped freely around her petite jawline, her almost purple eyes again matching his. The girl, Dagnen, on the other hand had a look of otherness about her – like no matter where she went she would always be an outcast. She had dark little curls that drowned her little face with green eyes that were so bright against her pale cheeks that seemed too rosy as she smiled slightly at the touch of her mother.
He watched the children age as another picture was placed in his hands. It looked as though this must have been when Xavier was named first Keeper as he stood by a much older woman Dante guessed as the Interpreter. A man stood the other side of him, a man he recognised but couldn’t pinpoint why.
“Xavier was the youngest ever First Keeper, wise beyond his years they said.” Merlin recalled fondly. “He was only twenty-one when he was chosen, but I guess he had the advantage that by that time he was already a Rune Mage and taking on the challenges of an Elder and beyond. Dagnen didn’t accelerate as quickly but then I think she was just happy following her brother around, I don’t think she really cared much for her progression with the Keepers.”
“Who is the man stood next to Xavier?” Dante asked, the face of the man eating away at his cool composure – what was it about this man that made him feel as though he knew him?
“That is Felix, Xavier named him his Second Keeper as a thank you to the guidance he had shown him along his journey with the Keepers.” The name meant nothing to Dante so he chose to ignore it. Perhaps he had one of those faces which you think you know but they mean nothing important.
Xavier stood tall with sweeping green robes, his long blonde hair tied back in a ponytail leaving his blue eyes to outshine the picture. Dagnen seemed to do the opposite though and darken the picture with her ‘otherness’ and plain faced smile; like it was a shield for the emotions she felt inside – a fake smile if you will. Her hair seemed lighter now as it was held off her face slightly leaving her green eyes to be more obvious. At this age, all he saw in her was his own Ana-Maria. She resembled every aspect of her that he remembered – the flawless face, the calm composure, the hard exterior and those green eyes.
“That’s all that is in that little drawer.” Merlin said as Dante placed the pictures back in the drawer of the box, locking it shut so that it was no longer visible from the outside. “But I’m sure Tristan has a few more around. Are you going to tell him?”
“Tell him what?” Dante scowled, standing up and staring blankly out of the kitchen window.
“About who you are to him?”
“No! At least, not yet. I don’t want him to feel like I have an ulterior motive in all this because that is how it will seem. I need him to think that I genuinely do want to help, because I really do…I’m just not quite ready for him to open my book before he’s finished his own.”
“That is fair enough, I can understand that.”
“Anyway, I hope you don’t mind but I really need some air. Would you mind keeping an eye on Tristan, just until Balderick gets back?”
“Of course not, you go ahead. It’s a lot to take in everything I’ve just told you. I’m surprised you didn’t walk out ages ago.”
Dante sniggered, grabbing his cloak off the chair and swinging it over his shoulders. He smiled to Merlin, patting him on the shoulder as he passed and glancing back one final time to look at Tristan, a thousand thoughts rushing through his head. How did everything suddenly get this deep? Turning away, he made for the door when suddenly Merlin stopped him.
“Why don’t you take this one with you?” he suggested, handing Dante a picture and smiling to him. It was the one of Ana-Maria holding their son just hours after being born. He smiled back, nodding in thanks as tears formed behind his eyes, and turning to leave the house.
Chapter 15 - The Final Glyph
Oglivy’s Treatise on Sentients and Sacred Places
Introduction
Sentients: Otherwise known as Artefacts, Relics or Soul Stones are extremely powerful objects crafted by the many generations of the Brothers of Union; some for good such as the Horn of Quintus, others for evil such as the Ruby of Sorrow. The latter of these objects possessed a certain power which gave them a consciousness thus the ability to manipulate whomever’s power lay on the inside. It is not known how they were created, nor why and efforts to secure them all for study have yet to be completed. The pages that follow list the current known Sentients and their suspected places of whereabouts. Theories say that certain groupings can be made by combining four good relics with one bad and uniting them with their corresponding landmarks. However further study is required before formulating this theory further.
I - Contents of ‘Known’ Sentients
Anvil of St James
Orion’s Medallion
The Chalice of the Builder
The Crown of the Trickster
The Elemental Talismans
The Eye of the Storm
The First Hammer
The Hand of the Jackal
The Heart of St Bradshaw
The Horn of Quintas
The Onyxum Flambertus
The Ruby of Sorrow
The Skull of St Yora
The Spear of St. Dalnir
The Staff of St Elderbine
The Tapestry of St Elian
II - Important Chronicles and Annals
The Book of Days
The Book of Names
The Compendium
The Prophecitus
III - Places of Power
The Abandoned Compound
The Birthing Cocoon
The Forgotten Cathedral
The Library of St Jenkins
IV – Groupings
The Failsafe Glyph
The Final Glyph
The First Glyph
The Glyph of Unbinding
IV.I The Final Glyph
The Final Glyph is a grouping of five different artefacts with five glyphs engrained within them to make one final glyph. This Final Glyph was put in place by the High Council of Elders to keep the Brothers of Dharsi from returning from the Faded Worlds. The Glyph is weak though and easily manipulated by those of Dharsi who still remain. If it is modified in any way, the only way to stop its destruction is to destroy the Glyph itself. This can be done by uniting five different Sentients; one of which must be an evil doer in need of containing. The Sentients required depend on the place of its unleashing but the Sentients must be united with their corresponding landmarks. Once the power of the Sentients i
s unleashed the Final Glyph will answer to its true master but the faction of the Keeperhood will be forever changed. The only ones capable of destroying The Final Glyph are the ones who put it there to begin with; The Brothers of Union – for only Union can destroy what Union created.
“This is it,” a voice said beside Tristan. “This is where it all ends!”
Tristan took a deep breath, checking his belt for the pouch and breathing a sigh of relief. If they somehow lost it after everything that had happened these past few days…well it would be unspeakable. Inside the pouch was a diamond the size of a man’s fist known as the Eye of the Storm. It whispered slyly to him and prayed on his darkest thoughts of self-doubt. The Eye had been crafted by an ancient race of Keeper betrayers and over time they had fallen into the hands of Dharsi until Father Talus retrieved it and buried it deep within the doors of The Forgotten Cathedral.
“You know what you have to do right?” asked the voice of Romeo, as he looked back before joining their other brothers in distracting Fina. Tristan nodded to him as he ran off leaving Tristan alone with The Eye.
“Returned have I in the hands of a different man who has seen time,” The Eye spoke to him in a bellowing voice, deep and raspy. It had an eeriness about it that sent shivers down his spine. Try though he might, he could not block out its voice for it bought his own dead and haunting thoughts to life. “Only this man is a much worthier wielder. You don’t really want to do this Tristan. You need me!”