by Jake Yaniak
'So I shall be again,' he said.
Chapter III:
The Remnant of Galva
Flourishing in Ram-u-Nar
Under the guidance of Dynamis the Galva Remnant had grown strong. They farmed the land and built habitations for themselves in Ram-u-Nar, but their hearts were always fixed upon their return. Daryas and his brother did not forget the plight of their father, nor did they forget their kinsman Olver whose survival alone yet stood between Cheft Ponteris and his ambitions. For there are none who will dare shed the blood of a Cheftan of the Galvahirne while yet there lives another to avenge him.
Though his dreams had relented somewhat while he was in exile, Daryas never quite slept without fear or sorrow. His dream repeated itself again and again until it fixed itself in his mind with the same clarity as a living memory.
Throughout the exile, the Remnant remained undetected by the men of Ramlos. On occasion they would send scouts out to spy out the land. In this way they became familiar with the southeastern portions of Heyan as well as with the wild lands of Golbfein. But they never traveled in groups larger than three, and even then they only departed from their hidden country when it was deemed necessary. They were for the most part self sufficient, but they could not grow or craft everything for themselves. Some of them would descend from the Daunrys (The Coronan Mountains as they called them) in the guise of common merchants, seeking to trade the goods of the Galvahirne with men of Ramlos.
Knowing the restlessness of his people, Dynamis arranged a great feast to be held on the twenty first day of Messest, and a tournament to precede it. Prizes from Dynamis' own treasures would be given to the greatest archer, the greatest swordsman, the greatest fighter, and the greatest horseman. The games began at dawn, with many hundreds taking part. Old Cheft Aargo served as judge over all the competitions, saying, 'Games, my lord (all the men of the Remnant, whatever their nobility, in those days called Dynamis 'lord'), are for the young; I am too old for such entertainments.'
'I do not doubt, though, that you would take the prize in more than one game,' Dynamis said with a nod.
'So long as the sons of Biron compete not,' he laughed.
The contest of archery was held first. Daryas did quite well in this contest, very nearly outshooting his brother Dynamis. But in the end the honor was won, not surprisingly, by Aoder the huntsman. The contest between he and the brothers Galvahirne lasted long into the afternoon. 'You made me fear for my honor,' he conceded as he was given his prize, a longbow with a string that shone like gold in the sun and an ivory handle. 'Take this, Aoder,' Dynamis said as he handed him the bow along with a quiver of arrows, 'and let it serve your hands well in battle and in the hunt. There is no greater bow this side of the Kollun Sea, and no greater archer in all the world to wield it.'
The next contest was to determine who was the greatest fighter. In this the sons of Aargo made their father proud. In the end the whole contest came down to a battle between his eldest son, Eron, and his third son, Jerson. They fought long into the evening. But in the end Eron pinned his brother to the ground and took the prize, which was a suit of hard leather armor. 'This armor, I was told, was made in Kharku from the hide of a beast that cannot be killed with arms, due to the thickness of its hide. The people of that land can only acquire such materials when the beast finally lays itself down and dies of old age. Let this armor serve you, Eron, son of Aargo, even as it served its former master.'
The night came early, as the autumn slowly stole back the light of day from the summer, storing it away as it were for its rebirth come springtime. That night, under cold cloudless skies the men of Ram-u-Nar held a great feast, celebrating their good fortune, offering prayers and sacrifices for their homeland, and praising the victors of the day's games.
The next morning the games began anew. A contest of horsemanship began almost with the first light of dawn. There was a series of races, some mock combat, and at last the men took bows in hand and tested their mounted archery against targets. Aoder did well in the archery, as one might well expect, but he was not well accustomed to shooting on horseback. He was beaten by both of the brothers Galvahirne as well as by Gishin, who did better than he by one shot alone. Daryas, surprising even himself, proved to be the greatest mounted archer, but Dynamis beat him soundly in the combat portion of the game. In the races, however, Dynamis' horse Novai outran all others, making their mighty steeds look like donkeys in comparison. 'I cannot accept great honors for this deed,' he laughed as the game ended. 'To Novai and her noble breed must go the praise, for she it was that carried me to victory.'
He gave the prize, however, to Vallus Phoadirne, whose horse had finished the race first among the others. He was given a gold-plated helm with two great horns and a plume of crimson dyed horse hair rising nearly a foot into the air above the crown. 'This was the helm of some Ancient, who perished in the last battle of Dadron, when all that kindred was driven forth or destroyed. I have long kept it safe and sound among my treasures; so let it keep you should war come once more to the Noras.'
Lastly, the contest of swordsmanship was held. It began in the afternoon and lasted throughout the evening, for there were many among the Remnant who desired the prize set forth by Dynamis. It was a strong shield, made with the wood of the Pelnok tree which only grows in the northern regions of Kollun. The wood itself is light, but strong enough to turn away iron. The top of the shield was plated with dwarven steel.
In this contest it was believed that Forge Collesirne would easily prove himself the victor. But he was beaten, much to the crowds amazement, by Daryas, who had for all that year trained under his brother's instruction. Olsith defeated Melgu, but then was defeated himself by Dynamis. In the end, much to the pleasure of those who watched, the contest came down to the two brothers Galvahirne. They battled long into the evening, dueling at last by the light of watchfires. Each of them was covered with sweat and dirt, and a little blood, unwilling to lay down their swords. 'I surrendered the prize for horsemanship,' Dynamis laughed, 'I cannot be expected to do so again for swordplay.'
'I have no doubt, brother,' Daryas said, panting, 'that in this match you will in the end prove the victor. But far be it from me to let you have this great honor without having fully earned it.'
Thus they went on until even the crowd began to tire of the competition. The night drew on and as Cheft Aargo was preparing to call the duel a draw and order the beginning of the feast, someone shouted, 'The watchfire! Look to the Horn! (They had named the ridge behind which their whole settlement was made 'The Horn' because of its curved shape)
The games ended at once, Daryas and Dynamis lowered their swords and took one another by the hand. 'Let us put shoulder to shoulder, my brother,' Dynamis said, 'through whatever perils.'
'Through whatever perils,' Daryas repeated. With that they rushed off with the rest of the captains of the Remnant to see to the watchfire.
As they drew near to the pass which would take them up to the ridge they were met by Revere, who was at that same time descending. 'Hail, Dynamis, my lord,' he said. 'One of the men spied the figure of a man or of a woman walking under the stars some ten leagues to the south. With great haste it comes, never stopping to rest. Just an hour ago I saw it myself. A strange white form, passing through the woodlands, over mountains, wading across streams, taking a perilous road.'
The brothers took no notice of the concern in his voice, though it was something that certainly would have been absent ere he fell in with the Galvahirne. In those days he would not even have been able to pretend to care for another human soul. But in Solibree he had been beaten, when the son of Biron discovered his betrayal, and yet spared him. At first he served the Galvahirne out of fear; but his time among them slowly brought about a change. It was slow enough that nobody could have marked it as change. Day by day he had felt less like a prisoner and more like a servant, and finally he felt like any other warrior among them. At times it seemed to entirely escape his memory that he had not
voluntarily joined the exile of the Galva Army.
'What do you think of it, master scout?' Dynamis demanded.
'I think it to be an exile or vagabond, fleeing from some dreadful fate - or perhaps a madman escaped from his bonds. With great purpose the figure runs, but without sense or preparation. They are more afraid of what they flee than of whatever they might meet with in the wild.'
'What ought we to do?' the lord of the Galvahirne asked his captains, Vallus and Forge, who stood beside him.
'We should snuff out every flame,' Vallus answered, 'and hide ourselves from the eyes of the stranger. For we know not what evil it will bring. We should avoid it unless we have no other choice.'
Forge gave a more startling recommendation, 'Let us send out a swift rider and make an end of the beast, for we cannot risk discovery. The people of our home long for our return, and we for the hour of our vengeance. Shall it be said that we came not to deliver them because we were found out by some wandering madman?'
The others protested the cruelty of this course of action. Daryas, who had come last to stand among them, suggested, 'Let us ride out to this creature and see if it is a foe ere we lay any arrow to the string or unclothe our blades against it. Who knows what doom may befall those who presumptuously fall upon such a desperate creature. For this at least is clear from the accounts: The creature that approaches is in dire need, and such a creature will not lightly bring harm to those that might offer it some sanctuary or hiding place.'
'It will be as you have said,' Dynamis answered. 'And we shall ride out to it together, brother.'
Neither of them imagined the events that would come of this course of action.
Weldera in Peril
It was well past midnight when at last the brothers laid eyes upon the strange wanderer. It was a woman, and a noble lady at that, though her clothing was so torn and dirtied that she looked more like a beggar than a person of honor. But there were many rings upon her fingers and a gold chain about her neck. When they came upon her she was lying face down in the dirt, barely breathing. They helped her to rise and laid her before a fire, which Daryas quickly prepared. A blanket of Noras fur was put around her and soon she was given hot water to drink, mixed with some herbs that were believed to have a healing effect among the Noras. At first the woman just wept and would say nothing. She just rocked back and forth, clutching her knees. The care upon her face made her look far older than she was.
When at last she had come to her senses she began to speak. But she would answer none of their questions. The brothers could see the signs of madness in her eyes.
'He has killed them all,' she raved, 'they are all dead. The women, the men, the faithful servants of the king's house. All of them, all of them, all of them-'
'Who has killed them?' Dynamis asked her. She responded to nothing that they said, only repeating her startling message again and again.
When she had sat thus speaking for almost an hour she suddenly froze as if she had seen a spirit. Her voice was broken and her eyes opened wide. She screamed, 'Cursed be the Moon Child!'
With those words she fell forward onto her face and sunk her fingers deep into the dirt, clawing at the earth.
Dynamis went to get their horses, for it seemed to him that they must bring her back to Ram-u-Nar with haste to see if by some means she might be healed. But Daryas, as if instructed by fate, went and knelt close beside her, listening. For a long time she said nothing, simply looking to the stars in anguish. Finally the madness seemed to flee from her eyes and she spoke clearly. She said, in a weak whisper, 'The Siren they call her, my fair princess, the most miserable of all creatures. Great peril will befall her by the hands of that ungrateful usurper, that devil-child of havoc. I am Marel, once Queen of this land, but of late I have been damned. For the dark one has slain the king and all his family with him. All that yet remains is myself and the Siren of Sten-Agoni - and I soon will perish.'
Dynamis, returning, tried to keep her from speaking, 'You must save what strength remains within you for the ride, my lady,' he pleaded. But she shook her head.
'Nay, my strength is long past; what remains of it is the voice of doom itself. My sorrow is greater than my weakness, and by it alone I live on to bemoan the evils of the day. But even this must soon pass. Child,' she said addressing herself to Daryas, 'You must go to the south and west a little ways, follow the stream you find between the two brother hills of Agledau and Daufina into the Sacred Valley. Thence you will come at last to that hidden pool of the dark god. There you will find the Siren.'
With those words spoken she seemed to grow strong and Dynamis almost thought she would rise in that moment in full health. But all this strength turned swiftly to anger and she screamed as she tore at Daryas with her filthy hands, 'Fly from this place, devil, and go not nigh the mountain! For I have put a curse upon her, that ungrateful child. She will be, soon, even as I have ever been. For I must perish; now she alone is Perfect, She is the sun and all else is in her shadow.'
The light in her eyes flashed out and her last breath rose slowly from her body as a mist in the cold night air.
'Whatever bewitchment was upon her has fallen upon you as well, brother!' Dynamis said as Daryas mounted his horse. 'You cannot go there, not alone. You know not what awaits you there! You know not what foes you may encounter.'
'I am not bewitched, brother Dyne,' he responded. 'Those were the words of my dream; if I go not south at once I will never be comforted.'
'A shadow lies to the south, brother. Let us return to Ram-u-Nar and take counsel. We might make a party and go to the south in strength to spy out the land and see what has become of the Kingdom of Amlaman. Do not do this rash thing!'
'I cannot change the path that fate has set before my feet, brother.'
'Nor can I,' Dynamis said at last relenting, 'But in my heart I hoped that my counsel might also be part of fate's decree. Go to the south with my blessing, if you must go. But do not take this sorry beast; take Novai with you, for she will carry you swiftly from whatever danger you may meet there. Whatever you find, brother, do not forget us, the Remnant of Galva, and the sad state of our parents. Learn what you can of the south, learn what the Master of Causes has awaiting you there, but by all means RETURN to me, for my own sake. You are to me the dearest of all my comrades and kin.'
'Even as you are to me, brother,' Daryas said as he stepped down form his horse. They embraced, choking back tears. Then Daryas mounted Novai, whispering in her ears, 'Remember me, Novai? It is I, Daryas, the lesser Galvahirne. I pray that you will help me all the more for my weakness.'
With those words he charged off into the night, chasing the light of the southern stars.
Dreamlands
As he began his southern journey Daryas was immediately aware that the path to Sten-Agoni was not alien to him. As he gazed about he saw that he knew every tree and every little mountain brook. He knew where to cross, where he must dismount, and where to find the easiest trails. 'In this my dreams have instructed me well,' he said as a chill rose up to his neck.
That night, when at last he was forced by exhaustion to stop for the night, his dream returned to him in full, without omission and without interruption.
His dream began much in the same way as his journey began. But the dream varied, sometimes having him travel the lonely wilderness alone, sometimes upon a horse. The land was always the same: five wooded hills, two mountain streams and a secret path of stone, overrun with weeds and thorns.
He would come at last, after much toiling, to a place where the cool waters of the Meretris gathered into a pool before vanishing into some secret tunnel. He knew from his dreams that he must cross the stream in this place, for further ahead the northern bank would become too steep for a horse to cross.
On the eastern side of the pool there were many stones. Atop these he slowly led Novai across. The thick leather boots he wore were of Noras design and let no water in, though the cold nipped at his feet all the same. When t
hey had crossed the pool Daryas once more mounted Novai and together they continued along the stream to the east.
The stream led him into a small valley, the name of which he knew not, though every smell and every sight were as familiar to him as the secrets and haunts of his childhood home in Peiraso. He left the stream for a time and wandered south and to the east to find better ground. He knew full well that he would strike the stream again as it lunged southwards further to the east. The building he saw when at last he followed this stream, he had seen many times, though the sight of it was more impressive and more frightening to his waking eyes.
The stones of which the building was made were so huge and so white that it almost looked like a celestial palace, and not a work of mere men. He saw the western gate through which the waters of the Meretris poured out into the wilderness. On either side of the stream there were great doors of oak, looming high above his head.
There were guard towers on both the southern and the northern corners of the building, but Daryas somehow felt assured that there were, at this time, no watchers upon them.
The air seemed to suddenly grow warm as he approached, and his dreams and his memories began to mingle freely with his waking mind, until his whole frame of mind became more dreamlike, though the images that had for so long haunted him became all the more real. He found that the door on the southern side of the stream was open and unguarded. He dismounted and without a thought left Novai to wander on her own in that mysterious valley. The door made no sound as it swung open. Inside the walls were decked with long green vines, adorned with many white flowers and bright red berries. On the floor there were stone planters from which grew slender white trees with silvery green leaves. He marveled that they should yet have their leaves at this time of year. But as he breathed yet more of that dreamlike air he found that he could believe almost anything of this place. Fate awaited him here. That is the thought that came into his mind, and his heart rejoiced. The water gurgled softly, there were songbirds in the branches, though all other such birds had fled winter's chill. A great warmth was in that place, and life seemed to be given in double measure to every creature and to every plant. As he neared the center of the building he heard, for the first time with his waking ears, the song of the one that was called the Siren of Sten-Agoni, Leonara, the Princess of Amlaman. He caught a glimpse of her as she passed by her window in the northeastern guard tower. As she passed their eyes met, and though they were still quite a ways off from one another they both felt as though they were standing face to face. This passed quickly and the princess once more vanished from sight.