Knights: Book 01 - The Eye of Divinity

by Robert E. Keller

  "Go away," Lannon whispered, as he directed the Eye past that wretched being. "You must know by now there's nothing for you here!" He shuddered, shocked by his own unexpected words and overflowing with dark anxieties.

  For an instant, the Eye touched on something even more horrible--a smug, vain thing that believed itself superior to all others. This monstrosity could reach forth and crush Lannon into pudding--a massively powerful hand that was hunched beneath the soil, bearing a tension like a coiled spring.

  For a moment Lannon faltered at that last hideous image, and the Eye wandered this way and that, displaying confused sights. Then he managed to steady himself and bring it under control. He knew one thing for sure, now. The Cemetery was a place he would never go--not in daylight or darkness.

  He located the path beyond the Cemetery. He motioned to the others and they followed, keeping close to him, as he wandered the fence line. When they reached the trail, he sent the Eye out farther, seeking to know what had become of Jerret and Clayith. But the Eye could reveal nothing about their whereabouts. And so, from that point on, he kept it focused on the trail. (He carefully avoided turning it on the others, not wanting to see their deeper truths after what he'd been shown the last time.)

  As they left the Cemetery behind, the Eye suddenly lurched off to one side on its own, revealing a figure wandering through the woods. It was Jerret.

  The Eye probed the Red Squire, showing an honorable, courageous heart that could be easily corrupted. Jerret Dragonsbane would follow the lead of whoever got to him first, whoever pleased him the most. He walked the knife edge between light and dark. But right now he was trustworthy, and that was all that mattered.

  "Jerret!" Lannon called out over the wind.

  "Lannon?" came the reply. A moment later Jerret lurched out of the drifting snow and bumped into them. He looked half frozen.

  "Am I glad to see you people!" Jerret said. "I got separated from Clayith, and I don't know where he went. I've just been feeling my way around, trying to get back to the West Tower. It was bad enough earlier, when there was still a little daylight. But now that it's dark out, you can't see anything at all!"

  "We've noticed," said Vorden. "Lannon's leading the way. He knows how to get there. Just stay close to us and follow along."

  "We're still doing this?" said Jerret. "Well, okay. But I don't see how we're going to find our way there. This storm is crazy."

  Huddling around Lannon, they trudged straight to the Temple. When they finally stood before it, unable to see it save for the front entrance, which was barely visible in the torchlight, the Eye of Divinity probed the structure. This Temple was erected in honor of the Divine Essence, and it had been built with tremendous care. Each stone had been placed flawlessly and purposefully. But it was an uncertain structure nonetheless--because the god of Dremlock was an uncertain deity. This god did not exist in the heavens in a shimmering palace--instead it lay underground in a cavern--and the Temple reflected that. It was a sacred place, yet something was wrong here. It had been built for a god that had known great suffering.

  Lannon shook the vision away, feeling strangely empty. The Eye seemed to be leaping about too quickly, revealing the truths behind truths, teaching him things he wasn't ready for. He didn't want to know such things, for he felt unworthy. Why should he, of all people, be shown such knowledge? And was it even trustworthy? Perhaps the Eye was showing only possibilities, speculation. Or perhaps that's just what he hoped. He realized he would have to learn to control the Eye better, or it might eventually put a strain on his sanity.

  Lannon focused on the Temple door. It bore a stout lock, but nothing Timlin couldn't handle. Lannon nodded to the little fellow, then stepped aside and let him go to work. It took Timlin several moments, but at last he got it unlocked.

  "I don't want to go in by myself," said Timlin. "I know that was our plan--to have me check the place over--but I guess I'm still thinking about what happened before. Let's all go in there together."

  "You don't have to," Aldreya said gently. "I'll go with you." She glared at the others. "Even if they won't."

  "Don't worry about it, Timlin," said Lannon, feeling guilty beneath Aldreya's stare. "I wouldn't want to go in alone, either, even though this is a good place--not like the mines. We'll all go in."

  Lannon was growing weary of receiving so much knowledge so quickly, and as he stepped inside, he drew the Eye partially within himself. There would be time for studying the true nature of things when he felt ready. The Eye was a powerful force, and already it had awakened deep fears within him. Perhaps the Divine Essence could help him understand it better.

  They closed the door behind them, leaving it unlocked in case they needed a swift exit, and hurried down the short hallway, which still smelled of incense even though none was lit. The door at the end bore no lock. Lannon pulled it open and started through. Glancing back, he saw that Jerret hadn't moved.

  "I don't think I can do this," Jerret said, looking grim. "It feels wrong. This is the Temple of the Divine Essence. What right have I to sneak in here?"

  Lannon searched his own feelings. Surprisingly, he felt no guilt now that he had reached the Temple. He could feel the Divine Essence somewhere below. It wanted him to come here, to break the Laws.

  "It's okay," said Lannon. "You can wait here if you want to."

  "What?" said Vorden, with a disgusted look. "Come on, Jerret. Don't be a fool. You risked a lot to come here, and now you're going to turn away at the last moment? If you ask me, that's just plain stupid."

  Jerret swallowed. "I just... Alright, Vorden, let's keep moving." Still looking grim, and a bit sheepish as he glanced at Aldreya, the Red Squire started forward.

  They entered the sanctuary and hurried up the steps to the altar. The torchlight fell on it, revealing the runes of the Sacred Text.

  "I guess we should push on it or something," said Lannon.

  Vorden snickered. "Use the Eye, Lannon."

  "Oh, that's right," said Lannon, his face reddening. He let the Eye extend out and probe the altar. At first a jumble of thoughts ran through his mind, revealing tiny glimpses of religion and worship throughout the ages, but Lannon ignored that fragmented knowledge and focused on finding the hidden entrance. He saw that the top of the altar simply lifted off, with a stairway leading down underneath. Lannon explained it to the others.

  "We can't lift that," said Timlin. "It's solid stone. We need Clayith."

  "We can do it," said Vorden. "Right, Jerret?"

  "Sure," Jerret said reluctantly.

  The four Squires grabbed the edges of the stone slab and strained to lift it. Putting forth a tremendous struggle, they still couldn't manage it. Months of rigorous strength training still had not given them enough power to move the great slab.

  "Forgetting someone?" said Aldreya.

  "It won't make any difference," said Vorden. "It's too heavy."

  She placed her hands on the slab and concentrated. Her lips muttered silent words. The stone slab shuddered and shifted, suddenly filled with energy. "Lift it," she said, her voice strained.

  The Squires pulled with all their might, but it wasn't necessary. The slab had grown much lighter, and they lifted it off the altar with ease and sat it aside.

  Aldreya wiped sweat from her forehead and smiled. "Well, that drained me quite a bit. But I'll be okay. Let's get going, then."

  A stone stairway descended from the very top of the altar down into the darkness. A dank, musty smell arose from below--a cold and wet smell.

  Lannon suddenly felt afraid. Was he expected to go first? He drew the Eye back into him a ways, dreading what it might show him.

  Vorden smiled at Lannon and leapt up onto the stairs. He started down, as if he needed no torchlight to find his way.

  Lannon and the others quickly followed.

  At the bottom of the stairs were two doors of Glaetherin--one on the right and one on the left, with a wheel lock at the center of each. Lannon let the Eye probe th
e door on the right, peering beyond it into the passage. He glimpsed a powerful force up ahead, though from this distance he couldn't make out anything about it except that it was not an evil power. Beyond the left door, he sensed something dark and powerful--and quite evil--that he didn't dwell on for more than an instant.

  "We should go right," he said, his body trembling.

  Vorden nodded. "Whatever you say, Lannon. Lead the way."

  Lannon focused the Eye on the wheel lock, and it took him only a moment to solve it. Then the door stood open.

  Jerret gasped in amazement. "Lannon, how did you do that? Those things are supposed to be impossible to solve."

  "He does that all the time," said Aldreya, shaking her head. "Don't bother asking, because apparently he likes to keep it to himself."

  Lannon felt a surge of pride, but could think of nothing to say for a moment. At last he shrugged and said, "I guess I just have the gift."

  Lannon suddenly began to feel ill and weary. His stomach felt heavy. It seemed the Eye had been out too long and had revealed too much. He needed a break from it. Having accomplished this major task in solving the wheel lock, he drew the Eye all the way into himself, and the halves of his mind merged into one.

  As the Squires started through the doorway, a noise behind them made them jump. Someone was coming down the steps--heavy footsteps and panting. They froze in horror, not even able to ready their weapons, while the figure descended.

  "Hey!" a familiar voice called out. "Don't forget about me."

  A tall, burly form stepped into the torchlight. It was Clayith Ironback.

  The others breathed sighs of relief.

  "You scared the wits out of us!" whispered Jerret. "But I'm glad to see you. How did you find this place in the storm?"

  Clayith shrugged. "I just got lucky, I suppose." His skin was pale, his hair and eyebrows frosted with snow and ice. He licked his lips. "It wasn't so bad, you know. Just follow the east wind, like winter's breath..."

  "What?" said Jerret. "Are you alright? You look like a snowman."

  Clayith laughed. "No, I'm just fine. Hey, that purple thing's up ahead, you know. We should go deal with it." He cleared his throat, looking confused.

  "Purple thing?" said Lannon. "Oh, you mean the Divine Essence. Right, let's get going. I think we're past the hard part now."

  They passed through the doorway and found themselves moving down a short hallway. The hallway ended at a trapdoor, which bore a huge iron padlock.

  "It's all yours, Timlin," said Lannon.

  Timlin knelt down, and a moment later the lock was open. "I'm getting faster," he said, grinning, while the others looked on in admiration.

  Vorden lifted the trap door, revealing an iron ladder that stretched down beyond the torchlight. The sound of running water came from below.

  The ladder looked sturdy, and they immediately started down, with Vorden in the lead. They descended about thirty feet and ended up in a round stone chamber. Four tunnels lad away from the chamber, but three of them had been sealed permanently with solid barriers of Glaetherin that bore no locks. Flowing through the middle of the cavern was a little stream that came out of a hole in one wall and disappeared through a hole in the opposite wall. The chamber, and the stream, looked like natural formations.

  "I guess we've got one choice," said Vorden.

  His heart pounding with anxiety and growing excitement, Lannon hurried towards the open cavern. As they passed along it, they could see shards of multi-colored crystal protruding from the rock.

  "We're getting close!" Lannon breathed excitedly.

  "Ugly things!" muttered Clayith. "Those crystals hurt my head."

  The others heard him, but paid little heed. They were bent on seeing the Divine Essence and nothing could distract them. The cavern curved up ahead, and the crystals became the walls, replacing the stone. The Squires could feel optimism building in their minds. As the light of truth fell upon them, they felt like anything was possible, that all would work out for a greater purpose. Behind them, Clayith began to whimper.

  As they rounded the curve, the light became radiant, and then before them, in the chamber of fantastically colored crystal, stood the three purple Flamestones that made up the Mind of the White Guardian. Tall, pointy gems rising from a flat base, they were narrow at the bottom and widened out at the top. They were spaced unevenly apart, forming a triangle. The gems were rugged, a bit misshapen--far from the perfection the Squires had been imagining. Yet the Divine Essence was revealed at last, and the Squires were swept away with emotions, bathed in a wondrous glow of truth. Vorden and Timlin stood transfixed, while Jerret dropped to his knees.

  "The King of Dremlock!" Aldreya breathed. Then she knelt next to Jerret.

  Instantly Lannon's mind split of its own accord, and the Eye of Divinity came forth--as if being pulled out of him. It surged straight into the Divine Essence. It showed him things about the Essence that astounded him. Despite everything the Knights of Dremlock seemed to believe, this was not some all-knowing god. This was a lonely child with an uncertain future, a child partially destroyed yet still clinging to life. It was a lone candle burning in the darkness, struggling to give hope, yet threatened from all sides by the swarming shadows.

  Lannon was overcome with a desire to help this child, to make it whole again and allow it to grow. But that was beyond his power. The White Guardian was no more--just shattered fragments that still pulsed with life.

  Lannon was deeply saddened, and in his despair, the Eye of Divinity drew back inside him. Yet even as it retracted it revealed images, and he glimpsed a dark danger just behind him. Someone else in this chamber, like the Essence, was lonely and suffering--a puppet controlled by rage and hatred. In his mind he saw the poison blade slice the air towards his back, but he saw it too late to take action.

  Lannon screamed as the cold steel pierced his shoulder. His body went numb and his legs gave out. He collapsed, but for a moment he remained coherent and was able to lift his head long enough to glimpse what was happening around him. He heard shouts, and he saw Vorden leap across the floor towards Clayith. Clayith was holding a black dagger, and his eyes gleamed with insanity. Vorden's axe bore down upon the burly Squire. Then Lannon's mind went black.

  Chapter 12: Squires on Trial

  When Lannon awoke, he was lying on a bed in a huge rectangular room. The room was lined with beds, and had much greenery in it, with tall plants in the corners and flowered vines growing on the walls and twined around some of the bedposts. A stone fountain stood at the center of the chamber, with statues of tiny, mythical Fairy Goblins in dancing poses around the water flow. Some of the beds were occupied by wounded Knights, who were being tended to by White Knights. Lannon recognized none of the wounded by name, but he had seen a few of them before.

  Standing over Lannon was Vesselin Hopebringer, the ancient Lord of the White Knights. Firelight gave a red tint to his flowing silver hair and beard as he leaned forward with his gnarled hand clutching one of the bedposts. Vesselin smiled. "It is good that you have awakened, Lannon. I was very concerned. Yet it appears that you shall fully recover."

  Recent memories flooded Lannon's mind, and he groaned, wondering where he was and how much time had passed. His throat felt as dry as dust, the flesh feeling ready to crack apart. He couldn't feel any pain his shoulder where Clayith's blade had struck, but he couldn't bring himself to probe the injury to see if it was healed. He simply waited for Vesselin to explain things.

  "You went through a horrible ordeal, young one," said Vesselin. "I shall try to answer any questions you might have."

  Lannon tried to speak, but nothing came out. He pointed to his throat. "I need some water," he managed to croak.

  Vesselin called to one of the healers, who brought a mug of water to Lannon. The boy slurped it down, spilling much of it on his chest. When he could manage to talk, he blurted out, "Where are my friends?"

  "They're all fine," said Vesselin. "Except for Clayith Iro
nback, who unfortunately is dead."

  Lannon sighed and looked away. Clayith was dead, and Vorden had slain him. Lannon had seen it with his own eyes.