Small patches of reeds grew around the edges that faded off into the deep. A second creek crawled from the other side, next to the city walls and disappeared into the stone work. All the trees at the base of the mountain obstructed most of the water edge. With how small the pond was, there was still a single beam of light able to breach the canopy and build a mirror reflection of the trees above.
“Ready to go?” Mya’s voice pushed through the brush behind them, making Breen jump and grab Faer’s tunic. Mya shot Faer a look of concern.
“Everything alright?” Faer asked.
“You will have to deal with the runes when we are in.” Mya stopped on the edge of the pond and knelt.
“Let’s hope that they haven’t sealed it completely or else we could run into trouble.” Faer tightened the straps of his pack around his shoulders. His face understood her urgency even though she didn’t explain; she had seen something, done something, or heard something.
“Breen, stay with me until Faer reaches the first rune. It will only be a short swim.” Mya looked over at Breen who never took her eyes off the pond.
With a subtle node of her head, Breen pursed her lips together and lightly bit her bottom lip. Watching as Faer took a step into the pond, he sank quickly, being swallowed like a vat of jelly, disappearing into the black without a ripple. It was not long until a yellow glow came from deep within the pond, growing brighter and then shifting to a green, then everything faded back to the black.
“Here we go.” Mya turned to Breen who was still starring at the pool in awe. “Once you get into the water you will need to swim straight down until you reach the bottom. At the bottom, go directly toward the direction you are facing and Faer will be there waiting.” Mya put her hand on Breen’s shoulder softly. “I will be right behind you”
Breen looked up at Mya who smiled back in a friendly way. Shifting her eyes to the water and taking a deep breath, Breen stepped out into the pond and slid into the jelly gloom.
It was dark under the water, very dark, too dark for a normal pond of that size. Pulling herself deeper and deeper into the jelly like water, a hazy light hue could be seen deeper and straight ahead of her. She swam closer to the light and realized the she was not even getting wet; the water did not penetrate her clothing or skin. With a slight panic, Breen looked over her shoulder and could barely make out Mya swimming closely behind. Blinking in relief, she turned back to the glow and kept herself moving.
The bottom of the pond came quick and she kept her eyes forward on the hazy light where Faer’s form started to shadow into place. It was getting harder to swim, harder to move, harder to hold her breath. Breen was losing strength and her lungs were starting to fail. Burping out the last of her air, an arm came from out of the darkness and grabbed her waist. Mya pulled her along quickly towards the hazy light and pushed her through the opening where Faer stood.
Grabbing Breen’s hands before she fell, he pulled her all the way in through a cocoon like skin that held back the ponds waters. Falling to the floor, Breen coughed and gasped for the air her lungs were denied. Mya slowly slipped from the waters and gently floated down from the jelly like she was walking down an invisible stair, slowly letting gravity carry her weight as she came from the waters.
They were in an odd egg-shaped room with three torches evenly spaced, halfway up the walls. A small crude opening which looked like it had been made by someone who had bashed through a wall in anger, a lot of anger, was opposite from where they came through. Mya did a quick survey of the room before bouncing her pack to shift her cloak beneath it.
“Why? Why I am still dry?” Breen’s voice filled the room with a cough.
“It is because you never got wet.” Faer answered her without turning from the runes on the wall. “There is a spell on these waters. ‘The seal of water breaks free the bindings of earth, giving flight to the children of the fire’. A spell placed on the pond that allows you to move and stay dry if you are with blood of the Children of Fire. Those who are not are weighed down and sink to their deaths. These runes have a special key phrase needed to unlock this room and close the membrane into the pond.”
Mya could see that Breen had a puzzled look on her face. “The Elven people are the Children of Fire. History speaks of Incinolin giving birth to us.”
With a smile of approval and a nod, Breen turned her eyes to the crude opening in the wall and then back to Mya.
“Once you two are through I will reset the runes.” Faer ushered the two girls forward with an open hand. “I will be right behind you.
Mya grabbed Breen’s hand and pulled her toward the broken wall. The two stepped through and disappeared around the corner. Faer’s attention returned to the runes on the wall and raised his hand. Everything around him went dark with the torches being extinguished at the same time and the sound of water quickly freezing was the assurance that he needed before leaving the egg room. The entrance was sealed.
“Faer, what room was it?” Mya’s voice echoed from the ahead in corridor.
“Third last.” Faer called ahead and stepped through the broken wall, into a clean hallway. There was very little light from the torches on the walls, barely enough to comfortably move around and see that on both sides of the hallway were random assortment of all identical doors.
Catching up to the leaders, Faer placed a hand on Breen’s shoulder to tell her they were all together again. The corridor was long and played tricks on the mind. The consistent layout of torches and doors made it seem like you were in a never-ending hall of mirrors. Mya had stopped at the door in question already, she was in a bit of a rush.
“Do you remember what to do?” Faer pushed open the door to a dimly lit room.
It was a small room, with all its walls covered in book cases from floor to ceiling and a small reading desk in the middle. For a room in the basement of a palace, it was remarkably in in order. Aside from the thick layer of dust creating a protective coating on its contents, it was clean finished. Everything on the shelving was in perfect order, no loose papers or scrolls, never an open books or tombs lying about. Only a single lantern sat on the corner of the desk with a dancing flame, waving at them in its solitude.
Mya skirted past him through the doorway and shuffled to the side of the desk. Scanning the shelves, her head stopped on the spine of thicker red tomb, engraved with the number 19. The trim was very ornate, gold lettering below the number in a glyph style language. Reaching up with her index and thumb, she placed her fingers on the top and bottom of the number nine before spinning it counterclockwise.
Breen cocked her head to the side in her youthful curiosity, the number was sewn into the spine like all the rest. She watched as the 19 became a 16 and soft click could be heard under the desk and behind the bookshelf. Mya released the number and stood up straight like she was expecting something.
A small portion of the book opened slowly to expose a space barely big enough to fit her hand. Small sets of gears were exposed and shadowed by the lantern on the desk. With the same hand and same two fingers, Mya stuck her hand the small open space and twisted something inside, creating another clicking sound under the desk. Withdrawing her hand quickly before the book could close on her hand, she bounced her pack again and winked at Breen.
The entire shelf in front of her slid slowly into the corner of the room, bits of dust falling from each of the shelves as it moved. It disappeared quickly for how large it was. With eyes wide, Breen could not believe what she was watching. She felt Faer’s hand on her back to usher her forward to follow Mya, who had already made her way through the shelving. Taking a cautious step forward, Faer kept his urgent hand on her back to keep the pace. Sounds of the shelf shifting again made her jump a little in her step and hopped into the space beyond.
The room echoed slightly with the clicking of the gears and grinding of the wood shelves against the stone of the palace. Dust fell to the floor once again until everything was in its rightful place. All that remain was the solit
ary dance of the lonely flame, flickering by itself as the number on the spine slowly spun back to its original count, 19.
Chapter 3
“These blasted books tell me nothing, Jaxson! Jaxson? Where did you go!?” An older male voice bellowed out from behind a wall of books. Stacks and piles littered the enormous library, seeming to go on forever in all directions. Tables were buried in books, chairs toppled over from what looked like someone was fighting, or just a stack falling over. The floor had an array of anything with writing on it or loose papers.
The library stood as tall as it did long, with shelves that stretched upwards to a height that needed quite a ridiculous ladder to get to. Curiously though, no ladder was in sight. No staircase to be seen. The ceiling at the peak of the space was made entirely of glass with an ornate spider web of framework holding it all in that cast the sun in changing symbols across the shelving as the day carried on. A single wooden door, which could be easily be mistaken for a double door for how wide it was, stood in the only clear section of floor. The origin of the voice sat in the only standing chair in front of a desk, flipping through page after page as fast as he could before tossing them over his shoulder in a grunting disgust before grabbing the closest volume.
“Turi, you really need to take better care of the library, it is the only one in the kingdom.” A younger voice came from the far wall. A small Impish creature with coloring matching the red-brown stain on the shelving. From head to toe, there was no change in colouring, save for his solid crimson eyes. It looked like a small dragon mixed with pixie or brownie but without the wings. A long spear like tail twisting around with a mind of its own, picking up books, closing them, or rolling up scrolls and tossing them all into the air. Before they could fall back to the pile, they would be grabbed by some invisible force and shot back into their respective locations.
“Jaxson, quit cleaning up and help me look.” Turi tossed a book toward the Imp, barely missing him.
“Turi stop! Maybe if you told me what you were looking for, I could help.” Jaxson looked towards the hunched over grouch rifling through another text.
“I already told you, it has to do with the Chains of Necrolis, the Wings of Incinolin, the mask of Freyolin, any information we have cataloged on the Spiri and the relic they carry or the Neightur.” Turi tossed his tomb to the side and grabbed another before burying his face in the pages.
“Any information we have on the Spiri and Neightur you have already gone through. It was only that single page on the Spiri armour and the other was the mantra we collected for the Neightur.” Jaxon kept cleaning up his space as he talked. “As for the Chains, the Dwarves gave most of that knowledge to the Barbarians. They only spoke of the chaos that would happen if the chains are to break. The barbarian shaman along with Kolvin were doing more research, as you requested.”
“Yes yes, and the relics.” Turi tossed another book at him.
“Thron-din has two of them and the others have never been seen, therefore, no paper work.”
Jaxson kept his scarlet eyes on Turi, watching as he became more and more frustrated with the books he was reading. From big to small, thin to thick, the size of the book did not matter to the old man with how he was tossing them over his shoulder like balled up pieces of parchment. Luckily, he was watching the flurry, having to duck from time to time from the odd object being sent his way.
As fast as Turi was going through the piles, Jaxson could not keep up with putting things away. Making his way further from the center desk, he kept to his task, stopping at one of the back piles so he didn’t have to worry about being struck without notice.
“While you are over there, look out the window and see how it is fairing. I know those Elves from Darke will be knocking on our door sooner than later, and I wouldn’t mind knowing how much time we have.” Turi’s voice bellowed from across the library even though with his face was buried in a book.
Jaxson nodded to himself and crept his way over the piles to one of the few windows that broke the line of shelves.
The view from the tower was as majestic as the castle itself. Land fading into the distance as far as you could see. The elven lands of Uridine were not the largest in Tulcarna, even a Gnome could see that from the tower. From the greenish stone of the south Phelfin Mountain Range that seemed to always have snow on them, to the blueish toned north Draag Mountains that encircled all the Uridine lands, which came to almost close in on each other in a natural embrace at the province gate. The colourful portrait they painted made for an awe-inspiring tapestry.
Beyond the sprawling forests and fields that were broken by the odd road or village, the Forest Gate. Being the only created structure that held the world back, sat between the tower mountains and could barely be made out. The shape of it could barely be made out by someone with excellent vision but still able to tell that there was something not natural there.
Jaxson shook his head at the distraction of the scenery and focused on the battle scene below. Thousands of battle crazed enemies were raging against the city. Turi’s tantrum about the books seemed so trivial now but, Jaxson couldn’t help but smile for some reason while he looked at the carnage below. Everybody could be easily pointed out; Elves, Orcs, Goblins, adults, children, and beasts.
“What in Necrolin’s name is up with this door!” A young male voice came from the far end of the library, snapping Jaxson’s attention away from his pleasure window.
“By the Dragons, just push on the bloody thing boy!” Jaxson chuckled as Turi cursed from his pile of books on his desk.
The voice was very familiar, Jaxson heard it every day when he made his trip into the throne room. With a huge grin on his face, he popped up into the air and floated just above the mess. Pushing himself off an edge of a bookcase, he hurled himself through the air towards the rattling door.
“Bravin!” Jaxson plummeted into the new comer as he stepped through the opening he made, knocking him back through the door and into the hall. “You came to see us.” The excitement in his voice made Bravin chuckle.
“As you can imagine, not on the best of terms. He sent me to get Turi.” Bravin stood back up and entered the library once again. “Turi, his Majesty has requested that you come to the throne room at once.” Standing on his toes trying to make out the old figure behind a large book.
Jaxson sat on the floor behind him in the corridor, holding his tail in his hand with a poutful sigh.
“It can’t be that time already, I’m not ready. Surely there is more time? I still have that whole wall to get through.” Turi pushed over the stacks that blocked his view and pointed to the wall on the other side. Bringing his head to rest in the palms of his hands, the look he gave Bravin would make even a giant show sympathy.
“You have gone through all these volumes over a thousand times, how do you not know what is in them by memory yet?”
“Cause I’m old you nitwit! Why do you keep having to learn to put your ropes on every other day before you go to the court?” Turi scowled at the dignitary and stuck his tongue out at him. “I do know everything there is to know about this library. It’s the specific tomes that I am after for the evidence to give to the elders that eludes me. Seems every day things get out of place.” Turi stood up as he spoke. Bravin kept his ground in the door space, the only area he could find without a book.
Bravin stood with a royal authority. His dress and stature pulsed with importance, from his shiny black boots to the crimson ornate shirt that was full of embroidered gold stitching. There were three looped ropes tied together that sat over his right shoulder. Each rope had a magical glimmer to them, a gold flecking and had the odd diamond twisted into the silk thread. The symbol of a royal courts.
One could tell that he was close to the king with the number of ropes he carried, they symbolized his level of connection within the hierarchy. One for the people, one for the Crown, and one for the Courts. His position was one of two others that that carried all three, all the other court members
had only two.
“We better get moving before Jaxson starts throwing them back at you.” Bravin smirked over his shoulder to the imp in the hall. Jaxson popped up off the ground and into the air of the corridor, floating in his excitement.
“Fine.” In a huff, Turi grabbed one of the large books leaning against the side of the desk as he stood from his chair. Reaching out and with a flick of his finger, a pathway parted in the piles, sliding everything to the side and out of his way.
Jaxson slowly floated his way into the room and over to Bravin before Turi reached the door and smiled up at Bravin.
“Are you going to be ok in here by yourself?” Bravin looked down at the imp.
With a nod, Jaxson floated over to the desk and sat on the edge, whipping his tail around behind him. Bravin turned to the old mage clutching his book. “You sure you want to leave him in here all alone with this mess?”
“He will be fine, has lots of work to do.” Turi’s word were met with a quick sigh in disapproval from the sulking imp.
Raising his hand in farewell, Bravin and Turi exited the library and pulled the large door closed behind them. Silence filled the messy room, an uneasy silence that made Jaxson look at the task before him and sighed.
• • •
“Should be almost there, maybe two more sets of stairs and then another shelf.” Mya led the way through the small corridor, barely enough space for them to stand.
Save for the small blue flame burning in Mya’s hand, there was little to no light. The stones around them seem to be trying to tighten slowly, swallow them in a rocky fly trap. Mya could see in Breen’s face that she was tired and hungry. Their trek through the inner palace walls had sent them swirling up and down, back and forth without a sense of direction. The whole experience had been a lot longer than she remembered.
Faer kept looking over his shoulder from time to time, searching the blackness behind them for something that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. With every check, it was only the dark that smiled back at him.
Age of Souls Page 4