by Lucas Hault
She stood before them, emotionless, as Owen passed a smile. He had been attracted to her ever since watching her in the balcony.
“Do you promise?” asked Cade Brown again. He just wanted to confirm everything before leaving his daughter with them.
“We do”, said Owen immediately. It seemed his words weren’t that affective, and the old man waited to hear the same thing from Elias Rayne’s son.
Borkan nodded. Though he kept his lips stitched, the nod played its part, which made Cade Brown smile. Owen too gave a long sigh of satisfaction.
“Can we come back to the point?” asked Borkan, as he switched their attention back into the actual purpose.
“It’s no longer a secret to you that I’m perhaps the last among the remaining Holves,” said Cade Brown. “I don’t know much about it except that this is the last phase of the Year of the Dark Bear. The Scorpion and the Raven follow next, which is the last year in the Holferian calendar”.
“Why is it last?” he asked astoundingly. He was aware of it but had never actually figured out the reason behind it, neither he nor his beloved mother, who had taught him everything.
“Apocalypse”, he replied in a cold voice, while his lips trembled as he opened his mouth.
“Why so?” asked Borkan. Neither of the other religious books did mention about such year. It did certainly speak of the judgement day, but unlike the Reyalm, the Holferian holy book, it did not mention any specific time or year, but only spoke of its knowledge being with none other than the Almighty.
“Because it shall mark his return”, replied Cade Brown. His face was very white and grave, while his voice shivered.
“Who?” asked Owen shockingly.
“I don’t know anything other than the pronoun. But the Reyalm clearly speaks about the last Prophet, Lord Ravenrocus mentioning his return”. It all sounded like a serious warning against something which needed to be discovered before time slipped off their hands. He continued, “Your answers lie in the Visionary Castle of Sinfroera. My daughter knows everything about it and she will guide you there, but don’t ever forget your promise”.
“Sinfroera?” confirmed Owen in a worried tone, as if the name itself tingled his nerves. “Are you aware that that city lies in North-Eastern Syneria? The land ruled by the sole Dictator Antonio Calaway. He won’t stop for a moment before slaying us, if we’re ever caught sneaking into his nation”.
“That is the only way son”, mentioned Cade Brown.
“We will certainly try our best”, said Borkan.
Cade nodded. “Make your preparations. It’s a long way from here to your destiny”, he said, following which everyone made their way back to their houses.
Borkan awaited Owen, who was off to get their car, parked in the other street.
“Did you forget me?” appeared the sweet little girl Emily.
“How can I,” he said as she stood before him. He bent down to face the little girl, whose lovely smile was hard to miss. She handed him a small basket that contained her favourite cookies and chocolates. Her talk seemed endless, but it was so sweet that he could spend a couple of hours listening to it.
“I want you to promise me something,” said the girl at last. “I want you to visit us again.”
Borkan smiled. “I promise!” he replied, and got back to his feet to bid farewell to her parents, who stood behind their daughter. He shook their hands and proceeded towards Owen who had returned with the car.
“No more questions regarding power or any such thing”, he mentioned before Owen could speak anything. It actually gave him headache, and he wanted none of it any further.
Owen simply nodded, driving the car towards Cade Brown’s residence.
A fleet of cars stopped by the broad concrete road, which teared through the dark shade of green on one side and the silver outline of craigs on the other. The cars held still on the path, and out came President Marven Fraser, followed by Elias Rayne and Thomas Wright. The heavy faction of guards, loaded with rifles and bandoliers surrounded them all around. The last red streaks had faded away in the west and night had settled upon the place. A few faint stars were gleaming in a violet sky. Darkness had conquered the land, but was defeated by the bright lights attached to the wooden towers. The passing vehicles were held in a long queue on the broad roadway, while huge army tanks were parked all over the large military camp. The men were on the borders of Syneria which further connected to Spion in the north-west. There was some relief in the eyes of Elias Rayne, as the soldiers had carried the chore fortuitously, and he saw them holding someone down, which undoubtedly was their target, the man who had been escaping them all the while, until now; the accused, Stephen Ray.
“I hope the case resolves now,” said the President as they moved towards the spot.
“Yes My Lord!” replied Elias, sounding alleviated.
“This is the most extraordinary case, My Lord!” said the detective. “A most incomprehensible affair”.
“Whatever it may be, your duty is to unravel it, and isolate it, and expose every inch of it”.
“Yes My Lord!” replied Thomas.
They moved past the long queue of vehicles, most of which were transporter trucks, generally used by exporters of different nations.
Spion had always been in good trade relations with both Syneria and North-Eastern Syneria. It had never differentiated between the two, and had a healthy relationship with the authorities of both the land.
The detective had his eyes set on one of the trucks, which was loaded with barrels—some of which consisted of elixir that was mostly used by healers and magicians throughout the continent.
Elias Rayne, along with the detective had spent much of his time in endeavouring to unravel the mystery hanging around, and perhaps had succeeded in it. He saw the sinking furrows on the President’s forehead. He was no sorcerer but could assure the rays of hope wiping out the patches of stress on the President’s mind. They walked to the spot, confirming the man captured to be none other than Stephen Ray, a skinny figure in his late fifties, with a thick moustache and a long horizontal scar below his eyes. He was a creature of infinite patience and craft, with a smiling face and a murderous heart.
“Welcome Marven Fraser,” he cried in a bold voice, followed by an irritating laughter. His scary eyes stared at them, while the man looked insane. “And you too Elias Solomon Rayne. I have been expecting you. But unfortunately, you are too late, and it will do no good.” He couldn’t hold his horrible laughter which was more jarring to the nerves than any scowl or contortion.
“We found him hiding in the truck, My Lord!” answered one of the guards, as he clicked his heels together, and raised his hand in salute at the President’s arrival. “He was seated calmly and was too easy to capture”. The other guard displayed a small bag that belonged to the accused which was brimmed with Spionian currency.
Elias stared at the man, Stephen Ray, who neither looked guilty nor afraid, but bold and wicked, filled with pride for every action that he had ever committed. “Why did you steal the Dorphous and what do you actually plan?” asked Elias strictly.
“I plan to breathe”, he replied in his own wicked way, ruffling their temper by bursting into an explosion of laughter. “But now that you have asked, I am no one to plan. But they are. I just work for them wholeheartedly”.
“Whom do you speak of?”
Stephen said nothing but laughed, and his face glimmered white through the darkness.
“Don’t force me to adopt the other way”, roared the President, his eyes being narrowed, staring the one held down by the guards. He had already turned red, with his eyes filled with exasperation.
“You can adapt to as many as you wish”. The laughter did not stop but increased. Elias could witness the furrows regrowing on the President’s forehead. He knew the fierce look on his face quite well, and if he wouldn’t have been the President holding the responsibilities of his people, he would surely have torn the lunatic into two.
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br /> “Take him to the Capital and throw him into prison”, ordered the President, looking at his guards. “He will be properly interrogated there”.
The laughter followed for the other time. “You can never imprison me. But you shall witness it soon. The year of the Dark Bear is about to meet its end and the unforgotten promise shall be fulfilled. It had been for ages, but he shall return.” He said it loud and clear. It definitely sounded alarming, even dreadful, but unfortunately it was beyond their perception.
“Whom do you mention?” asked the President. But the man sealed his lips, simply staring them with the atrocious look of one who comes from the dark into the light. There was a sudden change in his emotions following the laughter, as if something terrible was about to happen. And it did not take too long before the event, when the man was wrapped in fire all by its own. The fire started from his abdomen, conquering his whole body, and the man never uttered groan nor moved muscle but lay where he had fallen. The guards pulled themselves off immediately, and everyone backed off. The flesh and bone were fully draped in flames within a blink of an eye, as if by some magic or perhaps a curse.
The President, Elias and everyone stood numb, unable to react to anything so quick. Fear tortured their guts, churning their stomach in tense cramps. “The Promise shall be fulfilled and he will return!” were his final words before the fire consumed his body and his soul escaped.
“We are nomads who travel around the borders for our means of life”, said Owen, who was on the driving seat, disguised as the tribals. He was dressed in a loose cotton gown-like garment, along with a black turban that was usually worn by the nomads. Borkan was in the back seat, along with Zelina, disguised as a nomad couple, where the husband wore a cotton check scarf-like fabric on his head and the same nomadic cotton garments. Whereas the wife, on the other hand, covered herself in a loose dark robe, with a black scarf covering her head, except for the face. The nomads were generally the followers of the ancient religion, just like Borkan, and so he was accustomed to their culture and tradition which was his very own. The nomadic dress suited him the most, reflecting the personality of a royal nomad.
The guards on the border had stopped them, assuring their identities before letting them in. The nomads were the people found on the borders of both the nation. Their living style was totally different, and they were the only ones to have a permit to travel freely within the borders of both the lands. It was the only reason why these people were exempted from the process of document verification. However, they had some restrictions as well and were prohibited from getting too far from their region, or into the nation.
The guards rummaged their belongings and examined it minutely, before letting them through.
“You like cookies and chocolates as well?” asked one of the guards surprisingly. “I thought that you nomads were the ones feeding only on meat and Syrup”.
“We have a different taste for all”, replied Borkan in the same accent as theirs.
The other guards interrogated them further in their own tongue—the nomadic tongue, perhaps to assure their identity, to which Borkan replied fluently. Unlike Owen, he and Zelina knew it and were the only ones speaking. Owen remained silent and listened, though he had heard the language before in the Palace of Townslane, where Borkan and his family often spoke it among themselves.
The guards bid farewell in the native tongue to which the disguised couple smiled and responded. The guards moved off their way, signalling them to proceed.
“What exactly was that?” asked Owen, looking from one to the other of them in dazed astonishment. He seemed confused and undecided, simply involved in driving.
“It’s the tongue of the followers of the ancient religion,” she replied. It was the first time that she replied to him, and he just loved it. Owen liked her sweet melodious voice every time that he heard it.
They had entered into North-Eastern Syneria and were proceeding towards their destination. Zelina had never stopped chattering with Borkan. He could talk exceedingly well when he chose, and that time he did choose. She listened with her parted lips and shining eyes to his recital of their adventures. Borkan’s joke was always the readiest, his conversation the brightest and his song the best.
The weather was hot in the desert land which Borkan had been experiencing ever since getting to Gubby.
The Visionary Castle of Sinfroera was their destination, which laid in the beautiful city of Sinfroera—a major tourist attraction, and the city with the largest population than any other of its kind in the whole Southern Continent. It was not far from the borders that they had just crossed. They carried on with their journey, avoiding any possible breakdown.
It was just hours before dusk when the three were finally before the ruins of the castle.
“Was this really a castle”, complimented Owen, admiring the enormous monument in ruin before him. It was so gigantic that it appeared thrice the size of the Palace of Hustlecitis. It was much larger than any of the Palaces that they had ever seen.
“It’s too enormous!” expressed Borkan. He could not believe the structure before his eyes. It was so fascinating and bewitching despite being in ruins that the original could be imagined no lesser than heaven.
He had loved each and everything about the castle and the city. Sinfroera was the biggest tourist spot, and hence the nomads had no restrictions in visiting the city. But moving anywhere beyond it without the authority’s consent was punishable by death.
The three had never ever seen anything so magnificent as the city of Sinfroera. The fine lakes, the beautiful Palace, the monuments around, the roads, the streets, the different places and everything about the city attracted them, like a magnet towards iron. The city was indeed amazing, with a remarkable living standard and lavishing lifestyles of citizens of the place. The wide concrete roads were occupied with fancy automobiles, and the city was much advanced than any other in the whole of Southern Continent. The longer one stayed here the more would the spirit of the place sink into their soul, its vastness and also its charm. And the giant structure before their eyes was just another sign of beauty.
“Now I do understand why the people all over the world call Sinfroera the heaven on earth”, mentioned Owen. He was quite obsessed with the city and the castle, even though it being in ruins. It had great deserted halls, winding passages and long corridors twisting in and out, so that it was easy enough for folk to get lost in it. There were also a dozen ancient stone pillars, weather-stained and lichen-blotched. The broken towers, the damaged chambers and the unrepaired stairs—all were simply adorable.
“Its existence must be a bestowal from some mighty king to his beloved queen”, said Owen pompously rubbing his hands and inflating his chest, admiring every inch of the ostentatious structure before him.
“It isn’t”, she replied. “It is related with the Tale of the Three Daughters of Kurooz”.
“The three daughters of Kurooz?” asked Owen, in the injured tone of one who suspects that he is being laughed at. He had never heard that name before, but at the same time never wanted to reflect his ignorance before Zelina.
“Don’t you read?” she commented. It did sound insulting, but it never bothered him much, especially from her.
“I don’t know much except that Kurooz was a holy Holf,” said Borkan.
She nodded. “Kurooz was the wisest and the most devoted Holf, who had lived his entire life to please his God. He left behind his three daughters following his death, who were young and beautiful. Pleased with their father’s deeds, one day the Almighty sent an Angel to them. The Angel appeared with the message of the Almighty to grant each of them a wish. The eldest was the first to wish, who wanted to marry the richest man in the world. She was thus married to the king who was the richest of his time, but unfortunately was shortly defeated by his enemies. The king, along with his wife and people were thus killed by the victors. The second daughter was next, who wanted to be an immortal. The Angel granted the wish and rev
ealed to her that no one could possibly kill her except for herself. She later fell in love with a warrior, who died in his last age. She was immortal and would never die, and hence could never ever be with him again. Unable to bear this she hung herself to death in her own chamber. The Angel finally came to the youngest one, who wished for a life just like her father. Impressed by her, the Angel granted her everything. She was an immortal and the richest individual in the land. The Angel presented her with this magnificent Visionary Castle which was invisible to everyone, and could only be seen in a full moon night, only by the ones with a good and a pure heart. This was how the angel granted her the wish but warned her to avoid the same mistake like her sisters. The youngest one lived prosperously for hundreds of years with her life in the devotion of the Almighty, before committing the same mistake, where she fell in love with a nobleman. She was so deeply in love with him that she neglected the warning, and hence the torment followed. She died of an incurable illness, while the Visionary Castle was made visible to all by the Creator. Foreign invaders looted every treasure and destroyed the castle, leaving it at its present state”.
The three remained still, gazing at the broken walls and the disintegrated structure, before finally getting in.
“Look around everything carefully”, said Borkan and they dispersed. Zelina and Owen proceeded upstairs, while he moved to the chambers beneath.
The stairway and the chambers, along with the dungeons, were all dominated by darkness, even though there were low flaming torches attached to the walls and pillars.
The castle lay in ruins but was still under the authority’s care, and Borkan could confirm it by looking at its condition. The castle was a unique piece of art and architecture, something that he had never seen or heard about.