Trey Roberts and the Ancestor's Wish

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Trey Roberts and the Ancestor's Wish Page 13

by Lee Magnus


  “Yes. I mean, no Sir.”

  “Well are you lost or not?” the man asked again leaning back with his thumbs folded into the front of a thick black belt.

  “No. I know where I’m going. Thanks for your help.”

  Trey scurried away from the inquiring man back toward the library. He glanced over his shoulder to find the man still looking his way.

  “Maybe there’s something in the library that can help. There has to be a reason the dream sent me here.”

  Upon entering the building, he looked through the books filling the shelves.

  “The Rise and Fall of Halviticus. Who or what is that? The Ronodanian Empire? The wars of 2098 through 3047. What is this place?”

  “May I help you?” said a short, slightly plump light skinned attendant with long ears and a long skinny nose. He wore a black silver buttoned coat with olive pants. His smile was inviting as his small wise eyes were fixed on Trey’s.

  “I’m not sure.”

  He fingered a chain protruding from a pocket (most likely connected to a hidden watch). “Yes. Of course. I am Cierden, the librarian,” he said in a light and proper voice one would expect from a butler for a wealthy family. “How shall I address you, Sir?”

  “What? Oh. Trey. My name is Trey Roberts.”

  “It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Mr. Trey Roberts,” he said purposefully. “Let’s get you out of those clothes. If you will, this way please.”

  Hesitantly, Trey followed the odd librarian. They crossed the center floor engraved with a large image of a long shield with wavy horizontal lines and a center stone depicted in brightly colored brick. The symbol of the Order, Trey thought.

  He was led into a back room where Cierden laid out a pair of gray pants, beige shirt and dark brown coat. “These will help you avoid questioning looks from the locals.”

  Trey put on the shirt and coat. “Not wanting to reveal the items he previously stored in his pockets Trey said, “My pants seem to match well with the rest of the outfit.”

  “Very well,” replied Cierden after giving him a discerning look-over.

  “But how did you know…that I’m not from here?”

  He raised thin eyebrows humorously, “Besides your ridiculous brightly colored outfit?” His tone became more sincere, “I saw you enter through the stone. To my knowledge, no one has ever used it.”

  “No one? Why?”

  “Dimensioners are uncommon. There hasn’t been one in this land for ages. Also, this is a very special portal. I wasn’t aware anyone alive today, other than myself of course, knew of its existence. I would very much like to know how you came upon it.”

  “Special? In what way?”

  “This place is a library of history and ancient myths. My family has watched over these texts and this stone for millennia. We preserve the ancient knowledge and secure the stone from destruction. It was predicted by Master Olerand himself that one of great power and wisdom would appear in this location. We have been waiting a long time for the one to arrive. Tell me Mr. Roberts, is that person you?”

  “I’m afraid not, Cierden. I have no powers and don’t feel very wise at the moment. I’m also fairly certain that I’m here by mistake.”

  “Yes. Perhaps. But there are no mistakes.”

  “I guess we’ll see about that. History and myths, huh? What can you tell me about a king….a king named….Khaitu?”

  “King Khaitu!” he replied in astonishment. Lowering his voice, then looking around he said, “Why would you desire to learn of him?” the elvish librarian said with increased excitement.

  “It’s a long story that I don’t have time to explain.”

  “I understand. Come with me,” he said leading Trey to an obscure door in the far corner of the library. He produced a long copper key from his pocket.

  “You may not enter this room,” he said disappearing into the darkness.

  Moments later, the librarian returned with a large black leather-bound book with cracks in the binding. There were no words printed on any part of the cover.

  “In this volume is all we know about the dreaded king.”

  Trey looked at the book in awe. Until now, he had only heard of rumors of Khaitu. Granted, he was attacked several times by demons and ghouls associated with the guy, but this book was clear evidence of his actual existence – a history of what is known of his actions and deeds. Trey ran a finger down its spine which triggered a tremor in his own. He flipped it open to a random page which displayed intricate writing.

  “Look here, it says he conquered a peaceful world called Namjai.”

  Cierden’s eyes brightened as he regarded him. “Interesting,” he said.

  Trey kept reading. “He nearly killed everyone. Why? Why would he conquer a peaceful world just to want everyone gone?”

  “If you were to keep reading, you would find they didn’t agree with his rule. They all joined in a peaceful protest of which Khaitu had no tolerance.”

  “So, he just wiped them out rather than leaving or finding a better solution,” Trey said in a disgusted manner.

  “There is no logic to his madness. Tell me Mr. Roberts,” Cierden paused regarding Trey intensely then said as if singing a hymn, “Orelath omag loritni comparl a getalo nara?”

  “Script of the Kings? You mean this book?” Trey replied.

  Cierden nodded without removing eye contact.

  “No. I don’t have any trouble at all reading it. The writing is exceptionally neat. I’ve never seen anything like it, almost as if it were typed in a fancy cursive font. Tell me more of what you know.”

  “Very interesting.” Cierden’s amazement faded back to his former reasonable demeanor as he continued, “To summarize the story, he came from the land of kings. He was the sorcerer of King Ronodan, a mighty and benevolent king. Khaitu had a tremendous thirst for power and made a deal with an ancient demon named Gorgemon who granted him conditional immortality. He rose to power, then forced Ronodan to flee to another land, yours I believe.”

  “Conditional?”

  “Yes. The condition was that he would stay immortal as long as he drank the essence of others. Otherwise, he would die.”

  “What do you mean, Drink the essence?”

  “That part is vague, but it is believed that through dark magic granted to him, he would consume their souls, leaving the victim’s bodies undead.”

  “You mean like zombies?”

  “If that is your word. Yes. It is believed that he has an army of these zombies, as you would say, waiting for his return.”

  “An army? Where would he keep an army of zombies?”

  “Everywhere. Khaitu travelled the multiverse for centuries claiming the souls of thousands. We were all very fortunate for the Order and their effort to imprison him.”

  “I didn’t know about the zombies. I only thought there was just the one bad dude. Does it say in there how he can be killed?”

  “Killed? No. He cannot be killed by mortal means. However, he can be eternally imprisoned which is where he is today.”

  “Does it say in the book how to do it? How to imprison him?”

  “Yes. It says with the power of the seven relics, one’s soul can be confined to an eighth relic only to be freed in the same way.”

  “Ok, and the relics are where the seven’s essences are stored from the ceremony intended to give Khaitu immortality?”

  “That is correct.”

  “But Khaitu wasn’t completely bound to the eighth relic. Couldn’t there be another way for him to escape?”

  “Possibly, but he probably would not survive the Etherios in the physical form he needs to rule worlds. But even if he were to survive, he would require assistance leaving the spirit realm.”

  “He has assistance.”

  “Commerand?”

  “Yes.”

  “Of course. He is under the curse.”

  “How do you not know about Commerand? You seem to know everything else.”

  “H
e must be confined to your world. He cannot gain possession of a key or the eye.”

  “Yes. I am aware of that warning. The eye was recovered and, well, sort of re-hidden. I, of course, have a key and there is one other that I know of that seems safe.”

  “Commerand will find the eye. It calls to him like a siren to a lonely sailor. Safe is relative when it comes to the cursed sorcerer. Having two keys available to Commerand is too risky. You must let me protect this one for you,” he said urgently.

  “No!” Trey panicked. “I need it to return home.”

  “I see. You cannot return through this portal. It was designed one way.”

  “That’s not very useful, now is it?”

  “It was designed in a way that if the wrong people passed through, they would not have the ability to easily escape.”

  “Oh. Ok. Where do I find another?”

  “You will find it north past Mount Klipping, across the wide river and at the base of a waterfall feeding Lake Oshugar.”

  “Will I have trouble making it that far?”

  “Yes. Leaving the city is not recommended. Mount Klipping is very dangerous. You must never go on or through the mountain. You must go around to reach the river which is swift and unpassable by swimming and the lake is home to a water beast.”

  “Water beast? Really?” Trey said in a disbelieving voice.

  “I don’t know. That’s what I was told. I’ve never been out of this library. I think it was just made up to scare people away.”

  “You’ve never left?”

  “Like I said, I am the librarian. I made a vow to never leave this place unprotected.”

  “I’m not trying to be disrespectful, but you are just a little dude all by yourself and these are just books. What could you possibly do to protect any of this and why is it worth protecting?”

  “If the world were to forget it’s past, it would be destined to repeat it. Look at how many titles include the words war, empire, massacre and destruction. Without these teachings we would be locked in the cycle, constantly repeating our miserable mistakes. We must continue to move forward in wisdom, cooperation and love. Also, If the portal were destroyed, you would not have been able to arrive to provide whatever it is you will bring to us.” He gave Trey a forceful look. “I know I seem meek to you, but I have a few useful tricks up my sleeve,” he said finishing with a wink.

  “I see,” Trey said now understanding the little guy’s purpose.

  “What kind of tricks?” Trey said excitedly.

  “Let’s just move on shall we,” Cierden said clearly avoiding the inquisition.

  “Fine,” Trey said disappointed he wouldn’t get to know Cierden’s secrets. “What can you tell me about the seven sorcerers?”

  “We have very little on them before Khaitu summoned them from prima-dimensional space. It is believed they were given specific powers by Khaitu himself. It was they who created the portals as well as wrote this book.”

  “How did he become in control of them?”

  “The seven, before becoming mortal, were not individually conscious beings. They were a collective conscious and creators of ways to improve life. The power Gorgemon gave Khaitu allowed him to force mortality onto the seven therefore controlling their existence.”

  “This Gorgemon demon seems like the ultimate bad guy. Why would he give a mortal power over the seven? What could he gain from it?”

  “We don’t know anything about him other than his name and what he did. Olerand didn’t mention anything else in the book.”

  “Olerand wrote this?”

  “Yes. Shortly before the imprisonment ceremony.”

  “And about these powers, what were the seven capable of doing?”

  “Commerand has the power over physical things.”

  “Yes. I’m aware of his staff.”

  Cierden’s face lit up, his voice cracked as he said, “You have met Commerand?”

  “Briefly. I narrowly escaped,” Trey said indifferently.

  Cierden’s voice changed and hinted of accusation, “You say you are here by accident?”

  “Just keep going, please,” Trey said dismissively.

  “Moridon has the power of time.”

  “What do you mean time?”

  “His purpose was to introduce into Khaitu a timeless state in the living world. The time ring is thought to grant vision of and communication with the past.”

  “Could he also use it to travel through time?”

  “That was not in our teachings, so I do not believe it to be so. Satiran, Cholitar, and Teniua had the powers over wind, water and fire respectively.”

  “Fire?” Trey interrupted. “What could he do with fire?”

  “I’m not sure. It just says here they have control over these elements. If I may continue, Barbudo had the power to heal. These were all to be combined through Master Olerand who would wield each to grant Khaitu power over the elements, heal from any wound and become unaffected by time.”

  Trey’s mind raced. Could it be? Could the Clutched Rose be Teniua’s relic?

  “Sir?” Cierden asked to regain Trey’s attention.

  Trey drew his attention back and said, “Does it have in there what these relics look like?”

  “No. The order did not want them found.”

  “Ok. I think I now understand. When he was bound, the relics containing the seven, well I suppose six, were scattered all over. Were any hidden here?”

  “Yes. But that information was not written. I only know of its existence through rumors spread over time.”

  “Rumors?”

  “Supposedly the protector of a relic came to this place thousands of years ago. Rumors of where they hid it remain today.”

  “Do you know where it is?”

  “It is unwise to seek the relics, Mr. Roberts.”

  Trey smirked, “I told you I wasn’t feeling very smart.”

  “Very well. Visit a collector by the name of Karl Ropping in Hoppsburg. He can be found on Sharpe Street. It is a town directly east and a half day walk from here. He may be able to help. Do what you can to find yourself in town by nightfall. You don’t want to be out when the sun goes down.”

  “What happens after dark?”

  “You don’t want to know. Just be in town before that happens.”

  “Warning noted. I’ll be fast.”

  “Also, if by some miracle you actually find where the relic is hidden, know the protector would not have left it unguarded. You must be very careful.”

  “I’m not sure that’s what I’m doing here, but it’s all I have to go on so far.”

  “I have something for you before you go.”

  The librarian shuffled to a back room, then removed something from his desk. He returned with a small green draw string bag.

  “Place the key in here before you put it in your pack, then say the word, aroushidium.

  “Aroundushidum?”

  “Aroushidium,” Cierden repeated.

  “That’s what I said, Ashrouditum.”

  “Ah-roush-idium,” he slowly enunciated.

  Trey placed the key in the bag, cinched it up, then said the word properly.

  “Now open it.”

  Trey opened the bag, then said in a panic, “Where’d it go! What’d you do with the key!”

  Cierden raised his bony fingered hands and said, “Calm down, calm down. Close it, then say the word again.”

  Trey did as instructed, then quickly opened the bag to find the key safely inside.

  “A magic bag! Sweet!”

  “The bag will provide you a simple level of security. If you lose the key, you will be stuck here. If you lose the key to the wrong people, we may all be doomed. You must protect it with your life.”

  “I understand. Thank you Cierden.”

  “You need to be on your way if you want to make it by sundown.”

  Cierden walked him to the door, then said, ”Follow that road out of town, keep the sun at your back and you
should be just fine.”

  “Thanks, and I hope to see you again.”

  “I don’t. Because if I do, it means something went wrong. Remember, be inside the city limits by sundown.”

  “Right. Well, take care, Cierden.”

  “Bye Mr. Roberts. It has been my honor to aid in your endeavors.”

  Trey crossed the road fronting the library. He tripped on an uneven brick, nearly falling face first into the street. He looked back to find Cierden still standing in the doorway. Trey gave him an embarrassed wave, then continued along the perpendicular street adjoining the one he tripped on. No one looked his way as he left town through a massive gate connected to a high stone wall.

  A New Friend

  Trey traveled down a rocky dirt road. Mt. Klipping loomed to the North across a grassy landscape of sparse green and brown trees. Three black and red butterflies flittered across the path. An old man with a fishing pole stood as Trey walked past a small pond. He gave Trey a conspicuous look before settling back to his lonesome activity.

  He walked nearly two hours with the sun high above his head before coming across another traveler.

  “Hello there!” said a skinny elderly man with a big smile behind the reins of a two-horse wagon. He was missing a few teeth and had a scruffy beard.

  “Hi,” Trey said as he continued walking.

  “Ya ain’t from ‘round ‘ere are ya?” he said through a pair of large rimmed brown glasses.

  “No. How’d you know?”

  “I’m on this ‘ere road every day hauling rodobingers to Hoppston. I know nearly ever’one from ere to thar and never seen you before. What brings ya to Hoppston?”

  “Just visiting a friend.”

  “A friend? D’ yourn friend have a name?”

  “I apologize, sir. I’ve been walking a long time and am pretty tired. I’m not really up to answer a bunch of questions. If you want to be friendly, you could give me a ride into town.”

  “Well, why didn’ya say so? Hop on in back thar but watch out for Cedric. He keeps the freight safe. It’ll be best if you don’ look eem in’d eye.”

  “Thanks!” he said. He noticed a large grey rabbit dash across the road in the distance as he cautiously climbed into the back of the wagon.

 

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