Sam shrugged. “I am following instructions that were written in a book thousands of years ago. The landscape may have changed a bit over time.”
Soman swallowed. He did not want the rest of the group to begin thinking fearful thoughts of being lost, but was it wise to continue walking deeper into an unknown forest?
“Blow out your lamps, everyone,” Numa suddenly announced. “I think I see something up ahead.”
As the flames from the oil lamps were extinguished, Soman saw a faint blue glow down the path. Sam led the group towards the glow in complete silence. The singing and storytelling had stopped. The group followed the path around a bend and the faint blue glow became a beautiful bright light.
An enormous gate made of a bluish green glass towered before them. The gate was a series of spires reaching to the sky interspersed with ornately curling ornamentation. The glass was somehow illuminated from within so that it lit up the forest around them.
“The gate. This was the last thing mentioned in the book. It’s even more beautiful than I imagined,” Keeper Sam said.
“The book didn’t mention the way through the gate?” Numa asked, her voice annoyed.
“No. Only that this was the gate to the Skalja.”
Soman approached the gate, trying to peer through the spires but the glow was too bright. He lifted his palms to see if he could feel any heat coming from the gate, but it appeared to be cool. He’d never touched enchanted glass before, but he knew Numa needed that gate to open. Soman pushed against it with all his might. And it didn’t so much as sway.
Soman walked back down the path, then took a few running steps and flew into the air. He went higher and higher, amazed at the height of the gate. As he went to fly over the top of the gate, he hit an invisible field and fell back to the ground, gathering his composure just in time to land.
“I have tried every manifestation trick I can think of, but it’s almost as though I have no power here,” Numa said and Soman started to feel very worried.
Keeper Sam walked up to the gate behind Soman. He studied it from his lower vantage point, poking his nose between every rod, commenting on its construction. Then suddenly he stopped, his gaze on the far right side of the gate.
“Is that a bell?” he asked, moving a low-hanging branch out of the way.
Soman bent low and saw a tiny bell hanging from a hook no higher than his ankle.
“I suggest we ring it.” Keeper Sam peered closely at the bell, but made no move to touch it.
“I’m guessing you mean that I should ring it,” Numa said, noticing Sam’s reluctance to make contact with the bell.
Sam stood upright. “It does make the most sense since you already know how to manage the Lifeforce of this forest.”
“I will ring it,” Soman said, his natural instinct to protect Numa taking over.
“No, Sam is right. Besides, I am the only true immortal here. I will ring it.”
Numa wasted no further time deliberating and crouched down to shake the bell. The sound was clear and high, the melody carrying through the air for many moments.
Then two orbs of light, the same bluish-green as the glass, floated over the top of the gate. They flitted in a zig zag pattern as though they were assessing all the faces in the crowd.
“They’re tiny flying people,” Archigadh said, doing his best to whisper.
Soman looked closely at the orbs and saw that his father was right. They were not just orbs of light, but glowing humans with wings, and neither as large as Soman’s little toe. Despite their size, however, Soman could easily discern that one was female and the other a male.
“Joyous day,” Numa said, bowing in greeting. “I am Queen Numa of Todor and I come seeking the Skalja.”
Both of the little fliers covered their mouths with their hands and made sounds just like the bell that had rung a moment ago. “You have found us,” the male said, his speaking voice so high-pitched it hurt Soman’s ears.
“Yes, well done,” the female said, sounding exactly the same. “We wish you well on your return journey. Good night.”
Both of them made their bell sounds again as they retreated back to the gate.
“Wait, don’t go,” Numa pleaded. “We need your help.”
“Our help?” the male asked, turning back around.
“That sounds much more interesting than simply letting us know you’ve found us,” the female agreed.
“Thank you,” Numa said, relief replacing the desperation. “May I know your names?”
They looked at each other for a moment, as if they were silently communicating what they should do next. “You may,” they said in unison.
Then the orbs of light began to spin. And the faster they spun, the larger they grew until all Soman could see were two blurs of light, each the size of a Zobanite. Then suddenly they stopped.
Soman, and every single person in the group, gasped at once. The beings of light that stood before them were magnificent and stood as high as the gate. Both the male and the female had silver hair that flowed like liquid metal down below their hips, floating out around their heads as though they were under water. Neither wore a stitch of clothing over their glowing skin and their bodies were utter perfection. Soman noticed immediately that their faces were identical, yet, through some trick of glinting, the female’s face radiated femininity, while the male’s was pure masculine form.
“We are the Skalja,” they said together, their voices now rich and full.
“I am Marko,” said the male with a slight bow of his head.
“I am Okram,” the female added, tipping her head in the exact same manner.
“It is my deepest honor to make your acquaintance,” Numa said, bowing as low as was possible for a body to bend.
“You said you needed our help.” Okram’s skin shimmered and Soman now saw gold swirling among the blue and green.
“Yes,” Numa said, lifting her chin and taking a step forward. Soman felt himself smile as he watched her. He knew her well enough to know that she was unnerved, but on the outside, she looked every bit the courageous, confident ruler of Todor. “All Terrenes are now gone from Todor and it is my understanding that you are collectors of things no longer perceived. It is my hope that we may work together to restore the race of Terrenes to Todor.”
Okram and Marko looked at each other, then smiled before tossing their heads back in laughter. Soman was too beguiled by the beauty of their smiles to take offense that they laughed at his beloved.
“If you pass through our gate, you may take whatever you are able,” Marko said, still smiling.
“But you cannot pass through our gate without payment,” Okram finished her twin’s thought.
“What is the payment?” Numa glanced at Soman.
Marko and Okram laughed again. “You tell us what you want to pay and we’ll tell you if we accept.”
“I am Empyrean,” Numa said. “I can create whatever you desire.”
Once again the twins laughed. “We are growing disinterested,” Okram said, her face looking suddenly tired.
“We, too, are Empyrean,” Marko said. “Your powers do not impress us.”
“Surely there is something you desire,” Numa said. “Something even Empyreans as powerful as yourselves cannot create.”
“We are collectors of things no longer perceived,” Okram reminded her. “What we desire is in the past.”
“Will you give me a moment to confer with my advisors?” Numa asked.
Marko nodded. “Take your time. We enjoy watching you.”
Numa motioned for Sam, Soman, Archigadh and Tatparo to join her. “I need your thoughts on what we can offer as payment.”
Soman glanced at his father and shrugged. “What do we have that is no longer perceived?” he asked, not sure he even understood his own question. If something is no lon
ger perceived, how could they be in possession of it?
“Perhaps we only need to find something that is no longer perceived by them,” Tatparo suggested, indicating the twins with a nod of his head.
“I bet the ancient book, The Zobanite Journey of Truth, would be perfect,” Sam said. “It hasn’t been perceived for thousands of years.”
“But it is perceived now, isn’t it?” Soman asked, still confused by all of this. “Since we now know of its existence, and we saw it with our own eyes, doesn’t that mean it is now perceived?”
Sam shrugged. “Maybe.”
“It’s worth a try,” Numa said. “Tell me where it is so I can bring it here.”
“It’s in my chamber in Tolnick.”
Numa nodded and instantly the ancient book lay in her palms. She walked to the twins and held the book aloft, making an offering of it. “I give you The Zobanite Journey of Truth as payment for our entrance.”
“Wise woman,” Marko cooed.
“It would be a worthy payment indeed,” Okram said, “if we did not already have it.”
“How can you already have it when it is right there in Queen Numa’s hands?” Keeper Sam asked, his curiosity clearly overpowering his trepidation.
“Two copies of the book were made, both by Progon’s hands,” Marko explained. “We have one and you have the other.”
“Oh,” Numa said and lowered her hands.
“I reckon they don’t have a copy of the book you destroyed, little Keeper,” Archigadh said to Sam. “We could have used that for payment.”
“What book have you destroyed, childlike one?” Okram asked.
“It was simply titled, The Skalja, and I had to destroy it or I would have been killed.”
Marko and Okram looked at each other and, together, made a sound like a musical sigh. “We have desired that book for thousands of years,” Marko said. “There was but one copy.”
“Then it is something that is truly no longer perceived,” Sam said. “Since I made it so, you can count it as our payment.”
Soman raised his brows. Sam never ceased to surprise Soman with his cleverness.
“When all hope is gone of a thing ever being perceived again, it comes to us of its own accord,” Okram said.
“By destroying the only copy of the book, you made it so that we already have it.” Marko smiled at Sam. “While we are grateful to you for providing us with such a gift, we cannot accept payment of something we already have.”
“Scitte,” Archigadh grumbled under his breath.
Soman toyed with the handle of his longknife, trying to think of something, anything, they might have that is no longer perceived. He figured that if something is no longer perceived then it must have been destroyed or lost at some point. He’d seen plenty of destruction recently and began whispering a list of destroyed things. “Zoban army, Tolnick keep, Golath, Iturtia, The Ancestor, Aerie.”
“Aerie?” Numa asked, overhearing Soman’s musings.
“It was destroyed,” Soman started to explain.
“Yes, so it was,” Numa answered, a smile spreading across her face.
Numa approached the twins again and went down on one knee. She reached into her boot and pulled out a large, white jewel that sparkled with every color of the rainbow.
Marko’s eyes went wide and Okram sucked in a breath between her teeth.
“The jewels of Aerie,” they sang in unison.
Soman focused on the jewel that shimmered in Numa’s hand and could feel immense power coming from it. Although it appeared to be a single jewel, it had the radiance of billions within it.
“Will you accept this as payment and allow us to enter through your gate?” Numa asked.
“We will Joyfully take your payment,” Okram and Marko said together. “You may enter.”
Marko and Okram lifted their hands and the massive gate began to move. Soman expected to hear the creak of metal and the grinding of gears, or at least scraping as the gate dragged across the ground. But its movement was strangely silent.
The gate separated in the center and opened inward. At first, Soman kept his gaze locked on what lie beyond the gate, but he saw only blackness there. Something shadowy caught his eye and he found himself focusing on the gate itself. In between some of the spires, Soman now saw black, bony fingers poking through. As he continued to look, he realized that there were numerous of these chilling fingers wrapping around the illuminated rods of the gate.
“Do you see those?” he asked his father.
“Aye,” Archigadh answered, his eyes wide and alert. “There is ghoulcraft in this place.”
“Remember to think only Joyful thoughts,” Numa warned them, but Soman was certain that she, too, saw the creepy fingers.
Then an army of small figures emerged from the darkness. Hundreds of them climbed from the gate and walked towards the group. They were roughly the height of Keeper Sam, but far more frightening. They wore no clothing and their skin was black and shiny. Their heads were elongated and bald with glowing red eyes shining from them. And their lipless mouths displayed a gruesome collection of pointy teeth thrown together with no particular organization.
“These are the cabali,” Marko said as the creatures continued to move towards them.
Soman stepped in front to protect the others, but his heart thundered in fear. He’d never seen such ugliness in his life.
“Choose a cabalus as your guide,” Okram said.
“I shall wait out here for your return, Queen Numa,” Sam said, skittering backwards.
“You will all enter together,” Marko insisted.
“You will be changed as you enter, for this is the Gate of Forgiveness,” Okram said. “As you pass through it, all will be forgiven.”
“Something in her voice makes me fear this forgiveness,” Archigadh said.
Numa took another step forward. “I need to know that none of my people will be harmed here,” she said, her voice firm. “Especially young Toa. She is an innocent child.”
Marko and Okram instantly put their attention on Toa who sat wide-eyed in her brother’s arms. “Toa is most welcome here,” Okram said.
“Give me your word that no harm will come to her, or any of my people,” Numa pressed as the cabali crowded ever closer. “And that we will be allowed to leave when we have finished our business here.”
The twins smiled at Toa, then at Numa. “You will be unharmed and you are always free to leave should you choose to.”
Numa grabbed hold of Soman’s hand and walked through the gate.
A feeling of peace and pure silence washed through Soman and he closed his eyes, breathing it in. When he opened them, he was alone and standing in total darkness.
“Numa?” he called. “Archigahd?”
He heard laughter then, like children giggling. A cool breeze passed his face and he saw the shadows of three children skip by. Somehow he recognized them as himself, Gemynd, and Numa when they were sevens. “Things no longer perceived,” he said aloud.
Soman took a step forward and called for Numa again, but there was no answer. He was completely alone. The darkness lightened to grey and he saw that he stood in a wasteland of sorts. The ground appeared to be made of ash, punctuated by pile after pile of discarded items. He could see torn cloth, bent tools, broken cookware, shattered glass, and even dried bones in the piles.
The giggling children skipped by again and now Soman could see their faces. A deep nostalgia filled his heart as he gazed upon what had once been so familiar. “We are better together,” the child version of Numa whispered as they came close.
A movement caught Soman’s eye and he saw one of the cabali peering around a pile at him. “Follow me,” the creature said, its voice wet and guttural.
Soman took a step back and turned in the opposite direction, walking as quickly away from
the creature as he could manage. After only a few moments, he came upon two men deeply seated at a table at an intersection of four piles. The men were engrossed in a game of Keepers and Kings, their heads bent over the checkered board, each man clearly planning his strategy. As Soman watched, he realized that the two men were Golath and Keeper Clary. He eyed them cautiously. He had seen both men die, one by his own hands.
“Soman,” Golath said, looking up from the game board.
“Have you been killed?” Keeper Clary asked, his old eyes filled with concern.
Soman shook his head. “I am alive. We are only visiting here. We’ve come to find Terrenes.”
Golath and Keeper Clary exchanged a look that Soman could not define.
Soman felt many different emotions well up inside him as he looked at Keeper Clary’s face. Sorrow. Joy. Nostalgia. But strangely, there was not a trace of guilt. Since the fall of Aerie, guilt had always been the first thing he’d felt when he thought of Keeper Clary. “The Gate of Forgiveness,” Soman whispered, marveling at its power.
Soman glanced at Golath, then back at Keeper Clary. It was easy to make out their features and recognize who they were, but their forms were colorless as though he was seeing them in the dark. They appeared to be only outlines and shades of grey. His arms itched to wrap both men in an embrace, so Soman took a step towards them and reached out for Keeper Clary. “We had thought you’d gone to the Viyii,” he said to his ancestor as his arms passed right through the man. There was no substance there to touch, Keeper Clary was just an image.
“And I did.” Keeper Clary smiled at Soman, revealing that he still had only one tooth. “I am with the Viyii and I am here. My Lifeforce is with the Viyii and my essence is here, although my awareness is everywhere.”
Soman nodded though he truly did not understand any of it. “I cannot touch you,” he said, trying to shake Golath’s hand.
“I am the essence of Golath, just as he is the essence of Progon. Essences cannot be touched, they must be perceived in other ways.”
Soman couldn’t help but think of Gemynd as Golath spoke. Numa was right. It would have been wonderful for Gemynd to have the opportunity to see his father like this again. Even if he couldn’t touch him.
Unity: The Todor Trilogy, Book Three Page 17