When Twins War: Book I

by Ryan Peter

The Monument stood firm and ancient, built on a flat mesa in the great canyons of Lexedore where the Northern River flowed southwards and converged with the Western River flowing eastwards. Here, at the great mesa, the tides of both rivers clashed in great fury and then flowed eastwards as one river, creating a natural border between the country Dernium on the south side of the river and the valleys of Foré on the northern side.

  Carved by the Genicoins deep into the rock face of the mesa was the harbour. Here the waters were wild, given how two rivers converged. The harbour cavern was kept alight at night by scores of oil lamps positioned in the walls and throughout the heights of the cave. A complicated stairway, rope and wooden bridge system was strewn all over the heights of it, so that one could walk between the lamps and refill them when needed. At night it was a dazzling sight as the lamps lit the cavern so brightly that the light would illuminate far out into the river, as if a great fire had set the water ablaze.

  The air was damp but less stuffy than usual. Tarkanyon was standing with his horse, Polin, watching the harbour-keepers extinguishing the lamps, delicately balancing on the creaking and swaying bridges up above. It was quiet but slowly getting noisier as morning approached. There had been some visitors the previous evening, two ships from the east and one from Restom, who had both spent the night. The harbour had rooms built into further caves within the rock, which is where people were allowed to stay for the night. No one who was not an Outlander was allowed into the Monument, save those that were invited. Not many received that sort of invitation.

  There were also other ways to enter and exit the Monument and the city surrounding it. Three massive wooden bridges extended from the precipice of the mesa onto the three corners of land encompassing it, providing a way to cross over the deep canyons. These were not, however, built by the Genicoins - it was said that they had different means of travelling out of the Monument. Some claimed that they could even fly.

  The Milljata was prepared and ready for sail to provide them passage to Restom. Tarkanyon was happy with his choice of vessel — a two-masted, lightweight and agile caravel, able to manoeuvre quickly upriver. It wasn’t a very stately vessel and didn’t need much crew, either. Speed was what he needed.

  He and the captain had discussed the weather and they only expected it to drizzle that morning. Drius arrived, ready for a fight as always. He settled his horse and found himself the best sleeping quarters. The prize for being early. Chrisolian was next but didn’t board the ship, standing with Tarkanyon on the docks. He petted Polin, Tarkanyon's spotted horse, while watching the others arrive. His own horse didn’t seem to approve of that.

  As the others arrived they all exchanged silent glances, each preparing for the trip in their own way. Eventually an hour passed before they were ready to set sail. Tarkanyon nodded and placed both his hands on the captain's left shoulder and closed his eyes.

  “May it be a speedful and effective trip.”

  “May it be,” the captain agreed.

  The blessing now been said, they all boarded. A bell rang from inside the cave, signalling a ship leaving. The Milljata replied with the sound of a horn, the anchor was lifted, and the sails were drawn out, white and clear with only the insignia of the flame on them in black. He heard the deep pounding of the oarmasters drum. The mouth of the cave gradually drew closer and the tall, skyscraping canyon cliff walls burst into view.

  As they emerged into the open a soft drizzle washed over them and the fresh smell of the river filled their lungs. The ship dragged through the waters trying to find its course through the wild currents. The captain was shouting orders and the sails snapped into place; it jolted as soon as they found the right current. From up above in the main mast another horn was blown, this time a long blow and three short spurts. It was the signal that all was well and they were on their course.

  Tarkanyon’s thoughts raced towards Restom. It was from here they would enter into the land of Foré, travelling east — a land of graceful plains and valleys made up of mostly farms and the Dukes who ruled the villages. Their journey ahead was on a highly travelled road, as merchants journeyed from the land of Rosia on the western coast across Restom and through Foré, trading in Foré as they went and finishing at the Twin Cities. From the Twins, Rosian traders would buy their sought-after desert spices and jewellery, travelling back through Foré and ending their journey back in their home, Rosia. Rosia everything of the Desert Cities and Tarkanyon found it a strange kingdom with odd customs. They built many cities in the desert style, but yet had a wet and muddy land. The only difference in their architecture was that on almost all of their buildings they carved out outlandish imagery relating to their gods. They were deeply superstitious. The politics and people of Rosia were also incredibly inward focused and seldom did they involve themselves in any affairs outside their country.

  Foré, however, was ruled by a melancholic king who had been finding it difficult to keep his kingdom under his rule. Apparently he was blaming the unrest at the Twin Cities for his disposition. If one wanted to travel quickly to the Twin Cities from the Monument, Foré was unavoidable.

  Tarkanyon turned around and studied the architecture of the Monument and its surrounding area as they sailed further on. He was always interested in how the Genicoins etched and carved three flames into the walls of the canyon – one flame at each corner of the walls facing the Monument. The tall tower of the Monument stuck out from the city on the mesa like a Goliath, and the spire at the top of the Monument – of which Tarkanyon always wondered of its purpose or meaning – could be seen far off all over the Southlands. The tower itself was grandly and abstractly built out of limestone, and within the limestone were placed many icons of the flame that flashed in the sunlight so that during the hottest of days – when the sun was beating down directly on the Monument – the tower glistened and shone as an effulgent light, so that it would seem that the mesa itself shone brighter in the sun than all the land around it.

  It always seemed to Tarkanyon that the Monument was built in such a way as to signify how the Genicoins saw themselves. This was to be the place where Truth and Light could be found and understood, and taught, and brought to the world. Yet Truth was sought for even in the Monument and its Great Library. No amount of stonework and precious jewels could change that.

  His thoughts now drifted to his friend Luillan. The man spent his entire life trying to find Truth, couped up in that stuffy and dusty library.

  Meanwhile, Luillan was watching the Milljata from his chamber window. He stuck out his hand to feel the soft warm drizzle while Mershia, his wife, came and put her arms around his waist. She was warm and her presence comforted him.

  “Tarkanyon needs a wife,” she said, breaking the silence, the Milljata now some way off.

  “You’ve been saying that since before we even married.”

  “Well, he certainly won’t find one on all the missions he keeps going on.”

  “The Council send him,” Luillan said. “They are our leaders. Besides, we're older than him.”

  “Perhaps he will look when he comes back from this mission,” she said. “I hope so. This is a dangerous trip. He needs to settle.”

  Luillan chuckled. “Or, to continue going. We, as a people, are passionate about bringing the world to peace, but some of us are more passionate about this than others.”

  “And you?” Mershia asked. He turned and looked into her eyes.

  “I'm passionate about protecting,” he said. “Something doesn’t feel right. I sense a danger with this mission that I have seldom sensed before.”

  Mershia looked at the Milljata in the river far down below.

  “I do too.”

  CHAPTER FOUR