Chapter 2
The ride was awkward to be sure and Ara was sorry that he agreed to go on this adventure. He was thrilled that the carriage was being pulled by stallops rather than regular horses. The ride would be hours rather than days. He had admired their beauty when he’d boarded. They were so like horses, yet bigger and far more muscular, bred for extreme speed.
He sat in the back of the carriage, facing forwards. To his right sat a guard who had not introduced himself yet with every bump they hit, managed to rub Ara’s thigh with his hand. Across from them sat Forr, who somehow was oblivious to the guard’s daring grabs, constantly brushing sand off of himself. Next to Forr sat the remaining guard whose eyes never left Ara’s and looked to be thinking about more than just the job that he was currently being paid to do. Ara tried to ignore the guards and concentrate on what Forr was saying, but that was just another kind of uncomfortable flattery that he was not interested in.
“I saw the skin that you slapped on that man’s counter, Ara. The castle will be just thrilled to have you. You don’t just get lucky with a shot like that, you need to have skill. Skill seems to be a rare commodity these days. That’s why when I have the notion I absolutely must heed my ability’s suggestions.
“And you’ll be paid very well to work for Ivory Towers. The amount of money that you’ll earn will make you wonder why you ever wasted your time in small villages like that one. Honestly, it should be outlawed to offer so little for the hard work that you did.”
“It’s all a small town like that can afford,” Ara grunted, looking out the carriage window. The sand was gone and now endless green grasses whipped past him, as the carriage rolled at top speed. Forr was kind, Ara decided. He meant well but he didn’t seem to grasp that small towns weren’t poor out of choice. They could survive. They just couldn’t thrive like Castle Village or other larger cities could. Still, he hoped that his remark would make Forr uncomfortable enough to cease speaking. His hopes were dashed.
“Ah back to Eliantar Proper! Thank goodness,” he sighed with relief. “I daresay it will be good to feel the cool breeze again. Although, I suppose you became accustomed to the heat and sand.”
“I suppose so,” he answered, finally deciding to give in to conversation. “That’s not where I hail from originally, though. I hunted in Tacia for several years and just slowly made my way North. Eventually the forest gave way to the desert, but I kept going. No reason not to press on since Errandomn is where all of the textile smiths are. I assumed I could sell more hides there although, the game was more plentiful in the forest.”
“Oh, so where are you from then?” Forr asked, his eyes lighting up and Ara knew he had said too much.
“What brought you to Errandomn?” Ara ignored the question. Forr smiled back, wise to Ara’s hesitation, but respectful of it nonetheless.
“Well, as I said, Queen Jenneka has unfortunately passed on. I sent heralds out to the other Ambassadors and came to Errandomn personally. The Ambassadors will want to be there for her son’s coronation.”
“And the Ambassadors are the Queen’s enforcers, correct?”
“Hardly! Ambassadors serve as governors of the five outlying realms. Eleetha II the Solemn created the posts in the year 286 after solidifying treaties with the outlying realms’ tribes. At the time, and of course many times since, there have been conflicts between the Elites who work in the realms and the tribes. Thankfully now, we seem to cohabitate peacefully. The Ambassadors are there to maintain the peace more than anything. They make sure that the tribes are treated fairly. However, due to their existence, it’s rare that a person like me, from the castle, travels to the outlying realms.
“Unlike you my friend, I am not much of a wanderer or explorer. In particular I find the sands and heat of Errandomn to be overwhelming, but times being what they are...” he trailed off.
“I rather like visiting new places. There are always new people to meet.”
“Strange, I didn't take you for one who craved to meet a wide variety of Elites.” The look on Ara's face told Forr that it was time to change the subject. “Do you know the story of how Errandomn came to be?”
“Came to be? I'm not sure what you mean.”
“Ara, really!” Forr gasped in disbelief. “I'm talking about the legend of when the gods first came to Eliantar and formed it from nothing.”
“I'm not a religious man,” he replied, simply.
“Religious or not, it's a story that all Elites should know. Most children know the tale by heart!”
“Fine!” Ara was exasperated. “It's not like we'll be out of this carriage anytime soon and you have the need to speak for whatever reason, so please go on.”
Forr remained seemingly unaware of Ara's rudeness. This only caused the hunter more annoyance.
“I don't think that I'd mentioned earlier that aside from my duties as Royal Advisor, I am also the Royal Historian. It's really quite an honor. Most rulers had these positions filled by two different Elites, but Queen Jenneka always held me in high regard, gods rest her soul.”
“And what does a Royal Historian do?” Ara asked, looking out the window, uninterested.
“Well they keep historical documents and texts and relay them to whoever in the castle asks for them. They write the history that happens around them during their lifetimes so that future generations may study them as well. Lastly, they tell stories like the one you are about to thoroughly enjoy.”
Forr was incorrigible and despite Ara's best attempts, he liked it. His years of tough living made him appreciate any Elite or intelligent creature that wasn't able to be swayed. He may not have appreciated conversation much, but he was enjoying this banter. He decided that he may not want to hear a history lesson, but that he'd put Forr through enough.
“Let's hear it then, this story of yours. Let us hear of gods and magic and all things coming from no things,” he smiled, but not in a cruel way.
Forr mumbled softly about not having time to tell the whole creation tale and young people having no respect for elders. But, after that he launched into his story and barely stopped for a breath. Clearly, he was in his element. The guards, looking as though they had heard this story before, leaned their heads back and nodded off to sleep.
“Shortly after our world was created the gods and goddesses each decided to make their own personal mark on Eliantar. When Duna arrived, the goddess of land and rocks, she appeared as a radiant maiden with golden hair. She surveyed the land and knew right away what the world needed.
“Closing her eyes, the goddess balled up her hands into tight fists and bending forward punched the ground as hard as she could. The entire planet rippled at first and then suddenly hills burst forth from the ground. The grassy plains became uneven in a splendid way. At certain points on the planet, the goddess conjured enormous mountains to rise out of nothingness.
“Turning to the Northwest corner of the world, bordering right above where the forests of Tacia ended, she concentrated all of her strength on what kind of world was her vision of perfection.
“She brushed at the soft skin of her arms and golden flakes flew off by the millions, filling the entire region of the world with golden deserts. She then plunged her arms through the air as if punching it. Massive, dark caves and enormous subterranean sinkholes scattered her realm. When she balled her fists, mounds of boulders fell from the sky, littering all of her land.
“She was thrilled with what she had done thinking to herself that surely this was flawlessness. She called her kingdom Errandomn and filled it with mass quantities of dillas. Their armored skin would serve to protect them from their harsh environment as well as from predators that the other gods might think up.
“She gazed upon her land and realized it looked sad and a bit lonely. It wasn’t just the sorrow that the desert creates. Something was missing. Such a dead place needed more life than the armored dillas.
�
�Though it was unusual for one god alone to create a new sentient species, she knew she couldn’t wait for her siblings’ permission to help her create an intelligent desert species that could thrive in this harsh environment.
“Humans were one of the gods’ favorite creations. They were fashioned after the gods themselves, but with significantly less power and slightly less intelligence. More than anything the gods viewed the humans as highly entertaining because unlike the gods who had mastered how to live in a state of utopia, humans seemed to feel the need to create doom for themselves and those around them wherever they went. This may have been due to receiving less intelligence than that of the gods. But, whatever the reason, humans became a favorite on most of the new worlds that were created. In this setting though, it was unlikely that humans would flourish.
“It was only a short while later that she prepared to ascend back to the heavens and she smiled at the clan of Tamalus she had created. She had opted to create a new species that shared certain human characteristics.
“The Tamalus were exceptionally human-like. Standing upright at an impressive height exceeding that of a human by a foot or two, at first glance one could mistake a Tamalu for a human. The most obvious difference was that the Tamalus had a very inhuman skin color. To get close to a Tamalu one could see a dark gray pallor with black eyes. To further distinguish the two species, the goddess made the Tamalus nocturnal scavengers as opposed to the daylight hunters that humans were. She made them fiercely independent and created them to be loners from other species. To present them with a more regal look she presented each one with a long staff that they should carry with them wherever they went. As she rose through the sky she looked to see the slow-moving Tamalus making their way to respective caves, waiting to emerge when the day had completely ended.
“And so, that’s how that sandy bane came to be!” snapped Forr brushing sand out of his hair and off of his robes. “It may have been paradise to Duna, but it’s a nightmare to me.”
Ara looked out the window and saw endless, rolling fields of emerald grass. He could understand why so many preferred this kind of view versus the dry sand or dark forests. Off in the distance he could see fields of vegetables. No, they weren't vegetables. Even from this far away he could make out their long, thin stalks and their radiant, yellow heads.
“Sunflowers!” Forr exclaimed. “How exciting, we're almost home! Queen Wonjj the Elder planted hundreds of fields around Castle Village during her reign. She wasn't geographically-inclined and always wanted to know when she was close to returning home. They were her favorite flower.”
“They were my mother's favorite too.”
“I'm sorry. Did you say something?” Forr asked.
Ara didn't answer. His mind had already taken him back ten years. He could still see the plain wooden table in the center of their first floor room. In the middle was a small blue urn that would reflect beams of sapphire light when the suns would shine through the windows. There were always fresh sunflowers poking out the top of that sky-colored vase. His mother worked so hard at the local market each day, but always found the time to stop on her walk home and pick fresh sunflowers.
When she'd passed away, Ara went out to the small garden behind their house and ripped the yellow heads from the ground for hours, tears stinging his eyes. When he'd picked every single one in his mother's patch and his hands were red and raw, he brought them in and arranged them on the bed around her. She looked so peaceful lying there in her simple white dress, surrounded by sunshine. He couldn't be sure if he'd stood there for moments or hours, but that image of her was his last and most powerful.
To see them in excess ten years later, Ara could not decide if this vision was peaceful to him or haunting. Either way he couldn't tear his eyes away and didn't even notice as the carriage began to slow.
“Well, we’ve arrived,” Forr was positively beaming. ”You may exit the carriage once we've stopped, Ara. Welcome to Castle Village!”
“I thought you were taking me to Ivory Towers.”
“We're having Prince Vale's coronation today. Security will be intense and to be honest, I am late for arrival. I won't have the time to get you through. This should give you some time to get your bearings together. You may attend the coronation with the other citizens who have come today or you can wander the village and get acclimated to where you'll be working.
“Close the drawbridge!” he bellowed out the window.
At once Ara heard the heavy clanking of metal chains being cranked through gears. Craning his head out the window he could see an enormous wooden drawbridge being lifted against white stone walls.
“We do normally leave it open at all hours, but no one is paying a visit to Castle Village today as all the businesses are closed and anyone who was coming for the coronation would be where they’re supposed to be already. All citizens who have come in are within the castle courtyard. History is being written today, my friend. I don't envy the Royal Guard today, they no doubt have their hands filled inspecting every citizen who shows up for this but, I digress.
“When you step out of the carriage, you'll of course be in Castle Village. If you head North, through town, you'll come to a bridge. Cross over that bridge if you so desire. The gate there will be open and you'll be in Ivory Tower's courtyard. Please take your time and look around and feel free to join the Elites at the coronation, if you'd like. I think I already said that. Forgive me, I’m flustered. I do hate being late. I'll be back for you once everything has settled down, later today.”
Ara stepped out of the carriage and before he could turn back the door slammed shut behind him and the carriage took off through the town.
Turning back toward the charming village market Ara was surprised to see it completely barren of life. Every single building’s doors were barricaded shut with heavy metal locks.
The castle village was grand indeed, just as the stories had led him to believe, and yet there was not a soul to be found. He began to walk forward on the pebbled streets, passing several abandoned vendors’ carts filled to their brims with fabrics, fruits, vegetables, and grains of every variety. Even the stores that lined the streets had their windows and doors shut. Ara had often heard tales of ghost villages and he imagined that this is exactly what one would look like.
The citizens’ houses also looked deserted, but magnificent. They were all made of different rich stone and had solid sloped roofs on them. Though fairly simple in style, they were grand in size and none seemed to be in any stage of disrepair or neglect. He could have fit four of his old shack in one of these homes.
Beyond the Elites’ homes he could see some more shops on the next street. All the buildings in Castle Village must be grand, he thought. They were noticeably larger and cleaner looking than they were in every other town he’d been in. This caused a conflict within him, for as soothing as it was on the eyes, his conscience told him it was wrong to stay here.
Off in the distance he could make out the sounds of a great commotion. It sounded like a grand party. That would be the Prince’s coronation. He turned away from the market and decided he’d best head North down the cobblestone streets.
As he did so, he saw the grandest thing that he’d ever laid eyes upon. A gigantic white castle rose just ahead up into the sky. It seemed nearly as high as the clouds but, of course, that was ridiculous. It had pallid steeples and towers by the dozens and hundreds of ornate windows covering every inch. It was truly beautiful, Ara decided. And yet, it was another testament to the ostentation and perhaps greed that seemed to plague the Elites. It must be nice that some people were born with more money than others. Maybe if his mother had been born to wealth, she’d still be alive today. Ara was willing to bet that no one in Ivory Towers succumbed to the Iniquitous Virus.
Crossing through the large town as quickly as he could, he noticed the quaint bridge ahead that Forr h
ad told him about. The buildings became sparse on either side of him as he began to ascend the path. Another great white wall loomed before him that must’ve wrapped around the entire castle courtyard, cutting it off from the rest of Castle Village. An open iron gate at the end of the bridge was his only point of entry. Four guards stood poised at the entrance eyeing him up as he approached.
“Name, please,” stated the one nearest him.
“Ara Tataman.”
“Weaponry is not permitted beyond this gate, sir. I’ll need you to leave your bow and arrows with us.”
“I’m not going to hurt anyone. I’m a hunter.”
“It does not matter, sir. Weapons of any kind are not allowed in the castle’s courtyard.”
“Do you actually expect that any Elite would hurt the Prince in the middle of an enormous gathering?”
“Sir, I am merely following the law. Queen Jenneka may have been quite popular but assassination attempts in our lands history are not unheard of. I’ve been lucky enough to have not lived through any of the wars in Eliantar’s past and I’d like to keep it that way. Now, please hand over your weapons.”
Not amused, but not wanting to cause a fight with four armed guards, Ara quickly handed over his weapons and continued on. He stepped into the sprawling, green courtyard that was filled with thousands and thousands of Elites. All had their heads tilted upwards to a large balcony. Ara didn’t have to ask to know that the crowd was waiting for the Prince to step out onto the balcony in a grand entrance of pretension and make his speech.
It upset Ara that such a large castle was necessary for anyone to live in. Here he was feeling that he made a statement about minimal possessions and before him laid the epitome of money ill spent. Ara had already decided that he wouldn’t like the Prince and wasn’t interested in what he had to say. He still wasn’t even sure that he was interested in the job offer that he’d accepted, but it was too late to leave at least for the moment, so Ara looked onward with the rest of the crowd waiting for the Prince to emerge.
He found a spot along the courtyard wall and looked up as the Prince stepped onto the giant balcony five stories up. He was handsome, Ara thought, very handsome. He was slightly younger than him; from here he appeared to be about 25. He looked exactly as a young prince of a world should look. He was tall and athletic looking with straight, shoulder length black hair and deep, serious blue eyes. Ara chuckled to himself at what the young Prince was wearing but also recognized that the Prince probably wasn’t thrilled to be wearing it either, as he was standing there very rigidly. It looked terribly ridiculous. He wore a long white shirt and white pants. A long sleeveless powder blue robe was put over top. It was completely open in the front but touched the ground at his back. A high collar came up in the back, higher than the Prince’s slim, silver crown that he wore. It looked like he was wearing a gown. Tradition was tawdry! Though, he still looked very handsome. But, handsome or not, it annoyed Ara to see an outfit that cost more than some peoples’ homes.
“When my mother was alive,” began Prince Vale. “She loved nothing more than being a gentle, fair ruler. It is my goal to accomplish this same deed.”
The crowd went wild. Ara surveyed the fact that they seemed much taken with the dead Queen and were looking forward to the same rule of her son. Staring back up, Ara noticed Forr in his golden robes standing near the prince. He also looked thrilled to be working for someone so benevolent. The man standing to his right however did not look thrilled. Ara assumed this to be the Prince’s bodyguard, judging by his clothes. The wild-haired man in his ridiculous, silver suit of armor was rapidly eyeing the crowd, his eyes darting as fast as they could. To notice this from so far below, he must be worried about something Ara surmised.
“Much like my mother,” continued Vale, “I want to give back to the citizens of Eliantar. I want to be able to provide work, money, shelter, and food to those who cannot provide it for themselves. But, I don’t want it to end there. Charity and respect are not just for those of us that are Elites. I want to stretch my hand out to the others who are in an impoverished condition, the Arbestees of Tacia, Vintens of Steedo, Fonnes of Quale, Tamalus of Errandomn, and the Lexerros of Fornar.”
The crowd went silent and this infuriated Ara. The problem with Elites was that being human; they thought themselves better than other creatures, even if these creatures were just as intelligent as they. He was thrilled that a monarch, one who had life handed to him on a wretched silver platter, would care so much about the “lesser” beings.
Elites had always had a tense relationship with the outlying realms’ tribes of indigenous species. Though they were civilized and able to thrive on their own and it was the Elites who depended on them for their resources, the land had bloody history of bad interactions between the two. Multiple treaties had been passed over the years granting the tribes equal rights, but Ara knew that many Elites still looked down at any being that wasn’t human.
It was at this moment that Ara decided that perhaps not every wealthy person was a complete waste. Maybe there were some who did not let their money blind them to true important issues.
Or was it just that Ara was trying to explain away how handsome he found the Prince? Aside from his physical attractiveness, Vale appeared mature and kind-hearted. Then again, this was a political speech. Who was to say how much truth was behind it. Either way, despite his best efforts, Ara found he was anxious to hear more.
Vale pushed on, “We will not repeat old mistakes and rekindle old wars with the tribes that we share this world with. Protecting other forms of life may not be the most popular choice to many Elites, but we must remember also that they are the keepers of our forests, our lakes, and our mines. Without them we cannot survive and it would be unjust and unfit of me to allow them to try and survive without us.”
At this the crowd began whooping and screaming once more. Ara was impressed that the Prince was smart enough to find a way to make this crowd realize the importance of helping others. He couldn’t stop the grin that was spreading across his face.
“And so it is with great pride,” Vale hollered with a hint of sadness in his voice, “that I accept the title of Crown Prince of Eliantar.”
The crowd cheered louder and louder as Vale looked down gesturing and smiling. Ara was lost in the trance of the exciting event and of the handsome Prince. The Prince looked from left to right waving and waving to the crowd. It was like Ara was living in slow motion. He watched the scene go on for some time. He watched the Prince smile and laugh with his advisor. He watched the advisor guide the Prince over to the right side of the balcony and the bodyguard start to follow. He watched as the streak of an arrow shot through the sky striking the balcony and everyone screamed.
From the ground, Ara could hear shouts of “He’s dead!”, “Someone help us, he’s dead!” First he saw Forr and then Prince Vale. The arrow had struck the bodyguard, in the spot that Vale had been standing mere moments before.
The Woodland Tombs of Eliantar Page 4