by D N Meinster
When the last of the books went rushing upward, and the golden carpets were once again unobscured, Doren noticed that he and Hatswick were not alone in the library. Rikki was standing in front of the entrance, and she seemed as impressed with Hatswick's tidying as he was.
Hatswick turned to face his apprentice. "Good morning, Rikki."
"And I had come to see it for myself," Rikki whined.
"I think what we witnessed was more remarkable," Doren stated.
"There was nothing to see but the consequences of a poor ending," Hatswick remarked. "How much must they have hated it to tear apart an entire library?"
"I already know what was here," Rikki put forth.
"I'm aware," Hatswick said, glancing at Doren. "You know as much as any of us."
"I was hoping to find a clue or maybe – "
"Already checked for those," Hatswick inserted. "That's why we cleaned up. There's a chance there was one hidden under the mess."
But a brief inspection of the floor exposed nothing but imprints in the carpet that the profusion of books had left behind. There was no trace of the smoke or answer to why it had wrecked the library.
"At least Madam Brel wasn't under those books," Doren said, wandering about on the first floor.
"The librarian?" Rikki asked, tagging along and poking her head down each row of shelves.
"She's been missing since I saw it," Doren replied. He still hadn't told Rikki who the smoke appeared as.
Rikki stopped Doren at the end of one of the rows. "Do you think she's...?" She couldn't finish the sentence. She had probably been thinking about death enough recently.
Hatswick popped up right beside them. "Nothing," he sighed. "I'll be more thorough after the Celebration, yet I am not hopeful." He turned his back to the pair. "Well, you don't want to miss it. Get going. I'll see the both of you there." The Grand Mage faded from sight.
Doren guided Rikki out of the library and into the corridors. "Have you ever shifted? With Hatswick, I mean."
"Not once," Rikki answered. She and Doren squeezed against a wall as a rather large pack of volunteers came sprinting down the hall.
"It's not pleasant," he said as they passed.
Rikki twisted her head gradually toward him and held out her staff so he couldn't move forward. "He let you shift with him?"
Doren suddenly regretted telling her. "Umm..."
A jealous Rikki slowly rolled the next few words off her tongue. "I have always asked him to let me experience shifting." She moved the staff out of Doren's way and the two continued to head toward the castle doors. "I know he's banned mages from shifting, for whatever reasons he comes up with. But he could still let us see what it was like. But no, he doesn't even let us do that. So how exactly did you convince him to show you?"
Doren hesitated before answering. "He offered."
Rikki didn't say anything else to Doren until they were standing outside the castle entrance. A short path outside the doors led right to Treatis Square. Their view of the Celebration's venue was blocked by an elevated wooden platform that had been constructed in the front of the square, but the commotion was a clear indicator of what lied beyond it. There was an obscene amount of chatter reverberating from the square, which almost drowned out the music being played on horns and strings.
"I can tell you what it was like," Doren proposed.
"No," Rikki replied. "He will take me along."
Doren and Rikki approached the newly erected stage from behind. They made their way to its side, where a set of stairs led to the top of the platform. Both of them climbed the steps and discovered they were almost the last to arrive.
There were two rows of chairs on stage, many of which were occupied by members of the High Council. The brainless advisors had dressed themselves in hideous attire layered with expensive fabrics and jewels. If they had sought to look like arrogant aristocrats, they had succeeded. Most of them were in good spirits, laughing and conversing amongst themselves. Only Saunders seemed nervous, constantly biting his lip and jumping with every blow of the horn. His fortune must have been at risk with all the betting that had taken place.
Hatswick was amongst these jolly nobles, engaging in a deep discussion with Kelvin. Doren considered whether the Grand Mage could have taken part in the High Council's wager. He hoped Hatswick was above such trivial nonsense.
The only obvious guest missing from the stage was the King, who would probably be last to arrive. King Halstrom lacked the courage earlier kings had in front of crowds. He preferred to dictate rather than take part in public affairs, mainly due to trepidation rather than imperiousness. Doren knew these qualities damaged his father's reign and was concerned he had inherited them as well. He hoped he was never in a position to find out.
Rikki and Doren took adjacent seats in the front row on stage. From here, they had an unobstructed view of the entire square. Gone were the carts and stalls that were always present selling untold numbers of goods. There were no plays being performed, nor children playing with balls or hoops. They had all been evicted for today. In their place were thousands of metal and wooden folding chairs, many still unoccupied. The crowds were instead gathered around the edge of the square, which had been lined with tables.
Atop these tables were trays upon trays of food free for the taking. Servants were scrambling to refill the trays as quick as they could, while the citizens dug their hands in and piled their plates high. The bread and beef depleted so fast that it was like they were a royal delicacy unavailable in the rest of the kingdom. But as far as Doren knew, the Inner was not running low on rations nor gems. It was the lack of a price tag that no doubt enticed them.
So Kytherans filled up their glasses with morseltea and chocobrew, and they probably spiked some of it as well. They went about ignoring the music being played by a band in front of the stage, talking over it while stuffing their faces. Three hundred years without Neanthal had become an excuse to party and gorge. Any commemoration was no more than an afterthought to these attendees.
While those on stage continued to wait for the King, the High Council's conversations were interrupted by Saunders. "Any sign of Thalians?" he asked.
Doren wanted to laugh. No one besides Saunders was paying any attention to the massive throng. If he cared so much, he should have taken the threat seriously, rather than bet money on it.
"You won't have to ask if they show up," Kelvin answered him. "Don't you agree, Hatswick?"
"There's no such thing as a peaceful Thalian," Hatswick replied. "Their presence should be of more concern to you than a few gambled gems."
"Maybe if you attended more of our meetings, you could better convey the severity of the situation," Alphonse interjected.
"The King is coming," Hatswick abruptly stated, turning away from the council and taking his seat next to Rikki.
Orlan rose from his chair upon hearing this. He was bedecked in glimmering purple robes, with a gold-plated neckline and what may have been gems sewn into the sleeves. There was a ring on each of his fingers, and he was wearing a violet band on his forehead. He sidled over to the side of the stage, where the King was making his way up the steps.
King Halstrom was dressed in his usual green garments, with a regal coat on his back and Aergo's sword at his side. Today was an appropriate day to wear such items, and they may have been more soothing for the King if he had not clung to them daily. But Halstrom looked just as tense as Saunders, though for a completely unrelated reason. Doren knew the enormous audience weighed more on Halstrom's mind than any Thalians.
"Ladies and gentlemen of Kytheras!" Orlan shouted as the King reached the top of the platform. The band ceased playing forthwith, but still his words were inaudible over the uncompromising chatter. No one was paying attention to the front of the square, but Orlan nevertheless continued. "I give you King Halstrom!"
A few heads in the crowd turned to the stage, and there was a noticeable drop in volume amongst the attendees. Some began shuffling to
their seats, while others just gaped at the reclusive royal. The King still commanded the authority of Kytheras, but he was as much the subject of curiosity as he was consecration. So tiny was the number that had actually beheld King Halstrom, that many before him began to come to grips with their remarkable circumstance and diverged from the free food.
The rows filled up straightaway while the King stood waiting next to Orlan. His arms trembled at his sides, so he began waving to the crowd to disguise his fear. He grinned at no one in particular, and he eyed Orlan several times, looking for a signal.
When the audience was noticeably quieter, Orlan bowed his head toward Halstrom. "You can say a few words, Your Majesty," he whispered in the King's ear.
After a few deep breaths, Halstrom spoke. His voice was intentionally raised and steady, regardless of any physical tremors. His presence commanded the square and was perhaps even more powerful because of his customary absence. "It's good to see you, Kytheras!"
His greeting was met with scattered cheers, but many were too enthralled to emote.
"You are in the very capable hands of Orlan for the duration of this ceremony," Halstrom told them. "But I promise you'll be hearing from me again soon." With that, the King took a chair in the front row on stage.
"Thank you, Your Majesty, thank you," Orlan said, though most eyes were still on the King. "Some of you may not be aware of this, but there's a more important reason for being here besides the free food and drink. Today, we have reached a significant milestone. Three hundred years ago, on this day, the forty-second day of Spring, Neanthal was defeated. With us today is the only man still alive who remembers the Dark Incursion: our Grand Mage Hatswick."
Hatswick raised his free hand in acknowledgment. His other was wrapped around his staff. There was a noticeable buzz from the audience once the old mage acknowledged them.
"The rest of us don't have memories of that time. We only know the stories, or what was told to us in school. No one outside Castle Tornis has ever heard it from a firsthand experience, and I'm glad you are with us to share that today, Hatswick." Orlan gave Hatswick a half-hearted smile before returning his focus to the crowd. "Also with us on stage are Prince Doren, Wilma Teers, Kelvin Krones, Alphonse Graper, and Saunders Elm." He made a brief glance at the seats on stage. "Oh, and our youngest mage, Rikki Nasem. Rikki is actually the great-granddaughter of Amelia." Orlan clapped his hands together a few times and weak applause emanated from the crowd. "And now, here to kick off this commemoration is Madam Marie, to sing the Ode to Kytheras."
A plump middle-aged woman clambered up the steps and took center stage. She was dressed entirely in black and even had a hood covering her hair. A rather large chin jutted out from her round face, which had been bathed in makeup. She placed her hand to her neck and cleared her throat a few times before she began.
With the first notes resonating from the violins, she opened her mouth and let out a haunting melody that could fill every Kytheran with horror and pride. These words were familiar to each person in the kingdom, but they could still evoke a passion from both singer and listener alike.
"United as one, we fell together.
From the pit, it tore five lands asunder.
We watched as the darkness crept near
A corruption divine, an unfathomable fear.
O' Aergo, my liege, my shining star
Your spirit gone, your soul afar.
Forty seasons alone, these years in vain
Winds only carry the howls of pain.
Our words have weight, the Goddess knows
The time of this beast's rule shall close.
We stormed our home, toppled the gate
But for some we failed, we were too late.
The enemy fled upon our might
Yet soon returned within our sight.
A door was shut, the lands gave part
Each of us faced a brand new start.
Through it all, Kytheras survives.
Through it all, Kytheras thrives.
Separated, not alone
We have made one land a home."
The cheers from the audience surpassed the earlier roar. This ode could bring every citizen together like no other hymn. Doren had heard it often, as they tended to belt it out before many castle events, but this rendition inexplicably touched him. He was as much a part of the ovation as the rest of the audience.
Madam Marie gave a bow before exiting off the platform. Orlan strolled right back up to the front of the stage with a huge grin on his face.
"That was lovely, Madam Marie. Thank you." He clapped a few more times before the spectators ended their acclamations. "The Ode, of course, was written anonymously after the Great Parting. It almost seems more fitting on this day than any other." He lowered his head for a moment, and his smile vanished. "Fellow Kytherans, may I once again introduce to you King Halstrom."
While King Halstrom got up from his chair, Linus sidled on stage and placed a music stand at the front of the platform. He fled just as promptly, while the King approached the stand and looked over the pages on this portable podium. There wasn't sheet music atop the stand, but a speech, written for the King. He stroked his beard while he worked up the nerve to begin.
"Orlan has already mentioned why we are here, but in case some of you weren't paying attention, I'll state it once more. Three hundred years ago, Neanthal was overpowered by a resurgent Kytheran army. After his defeat, Amelia and Hatswick created a new plane of existence to serve as his prison. He was confined there, the only possible exit sealed by the Door and locked with five silver keys. Each of the old kingdoms was given one key and then our lands were forever separated to ensure that he could never be set free.
"The Door, on the outskirts of our kingdom, has become as much a monument now as it is a prison. It is a reminder of all we lost, and all that was sacrificed, so that we could go about our lives without torment. Without torture. Without despair. I recognize that life is not easy for many of you. But compared to what it was, and what it could have been? Magenine has blessed you all. You can read about the Dark Reign and picture its terror. But you do not have to live it. You do not have to experience it. So thank the Goddess every day, and when you look to the desert, focus on that door. Do not ignore it. Think about it. Think about what your ancestors went through. And remember – "
Halstrom froze midsentence. Doren didn't understand. Did his father's fear get the best of him? Doren wanted to turn to Rikki or Hatswick to try and get some indication of why his father had stopped speaking. But he couldn't twist toward them. He couldn't bend his neck or even move an eyeball. His arms were glued to his lap. He couldn't feel them. He couldn't feel any muscle in his body. His mouth would not open, and his voice would not comply. Doren was just as stationary as the King, and so was everyone within his sights.
There was not a murmur or a scream from anyone in the square. They were locked into their positions; turned into living statues. At least, Doren assumed they were all alive. He was still living in such a condition, so they must have been too.
Doren almost felt bad for his father, who was now stuck in a place he never desired to be. He could not show signs of panic, but Doren could easily guess what was going on inside the King's mind. His thoughts would consist of unheard shrieks and calling out for the deceased Queen. Halstrom wouldn't want to be up there all alone. And then, as if the Goddess had heard his thoughts, he wasn't.
Materializing from out of nowhere was a ghastly woman with shocking white hair that had been tied into dreadlocks. Her skin was unnaturally pasty, with veins like tattoos drawn all over her arms and face. The rest of her body was concealed beneath a slick silver coat that stretched from her neck to her ankles. She pointed at the King, displaying her lack of fingernails.
"It is you that have been ignoring the Door," she said. The woman had a deep voice, almost masculine.
With her finger still aimed at the King, Halstrom started walking backward, away from the music stand. He coul
d not see where he was going, but somehow wound up back in the chair he had only recently vacated.
Doren grasped what was happening right as the King started moving again. She was doing this. She was controlling all of them.
The woman kicked the music stand out of the way, sending papers flying off the stage. A few of them landed on bystanders that were helpless to move the sheets. Her green-gray eyes darted from the paralyzed group on stage to the gathering in front of the platform. She licked her colorless lips before continuing. "You Magenites have gone on with your lives, forgetting what you did to him. But he remembers. And he has been waiting. You all picked the wrong deity. He's coming back."
Chapter Nine
The Resurrected
The appearance of Thalians wasn't a surprise to Rikki. There had been persistent rumors that the Celebration was going to be interrupted by Neanthal worshippers. But the methods of the disruption were completely unexpected.
The woman before them had to be a mage. There was no other way she could have immobilized the entire square. However, there were no other mages besides herself and Hatswick in all of Kytheras. Everyone in Castle Tornis knew that. So where exactly did this woman come from? She couldn't have just popped up out of the ground.
And if she was a mage as well as a Thalian, that would be even more inexplicable. Sin mages had died out at the end of the Dark Reign. Even when Thalians would show up after the Great Parting, not one of them was a mage.
Mages were given their gifts by Magenine. The sin mages were corrupted by Neanthal and turned against the very source of their abilities. With Neanthal gone, there was no one to corrupt the mages. So how could the woman before her be a mage and a Thalian?
Rikki's mind raced as her eyes were stuck on the woman at the front of the stage. She wanted to free herself and find out what exactly this woman was. Her hand was on her staff, but no matter her focus or determination, she was unable to break out of this petrifaction. Her magic was as static as the rest of her body. She was stuck and could only watch.