On either side were tall statues of strange, godlike beings. Though they were humanoid in appearance, their faces were beastly, and their heads were adorned with ram’s horns. They were all bearded, and bore long spears or massive clubs. The four men looked upon them with loathing; each of them equally repulsed by the sight of the fearsome creatures.
Hamal was the most disturbed of them all. Though the others had reacted to the sights of the decimated city, his revulsion was one of pure instinct. Something was there, he knew; something dark and primordial that made his previous encounters seem like mere annoyances. He did not even feel such a gut-wrenching response when he faced the Enkhatar at the island prison.
No, this was worse.
“What is it, Hamal?” Eamon asked him.
Hamal shook his head, his face blank. “This does not feel right,” he said. “The city is too quiet. I know it is abandoned, but the Lifegiver should be active.”
“Perhaps he is afraid,” Faeraon offered. “He knows we are here.”
Traegus nodded. Hamal was not convinced that was the whole truth. If the Lifegiver knew they were present, surely he would try to stop them from entering the Great Pyramid.
“We must keep going,” Hamal said. “Our destinies lie beyond these gates.”
“Open them,” Traegus said.
Hamal drew his blade. As he held it in his hands, he felt it growing warm. It began to vibrate lightly, and it became stronger as he walked toward the gates. When he neared, he noticed a faint shimmering in front of the massive stone doors, as if there was a glass wall blocking the way; only it seemed to glisten with dark energy.
He stepped closer, holding Mahaguratu out before him. The air itself began to vibrate as the shimmering barrier’s oscillations became more powerful. Hamal closed his eyes, raising his blade to strike. That seemed the only logical course of action at the moment.
“Be careful,” Eamon said.
Hamal took a deep breath, thrusting his sword out before him with a shout of “Imbra!”
A bright flash erupted from the tip of his sword, blasting into the barrier and shattering like glass. The sound was deafening, and the four of them shielded their faces from the ethereal shards that exploded outward.
Hamal looked back at them, smiling. They moved up next to him, staring up at the giant gates that still blocked their way. Hamal again stepped forward, reaching out to touch the intricate carvings on the stone doors. They felt cold, and seemed to exude darkness itself.
“It is like touching the gates of Hell,” he said.
“That may not be as metaphorical as you think,” Traegus said.
Hamal continued to feel around on the surface, studying the various designs; trying to make some sense of their purpose. Though the figures seemed to be purely for decoration, there were other markings that resembled an alphabet, or some kind of phonetic writing. Whatever the case, they were undecipherable in Hamal’s eyes. Frustrated, he dropped his hand to his side, stepping back.
“I have no idea what these symbols mean,” he said.
Traegus had fallen silent; simply staring at the symbols and mumbling to himself. He scratched his chin, stepping forward, touching the symbols for himself.
“These are mathematical symbols,” he said. “They are similar to those that Maedoc and I have studied, but with some variation.”
“What do they mean?” Eamon asked.
Traegus pointed to an odd shape near the inner edge of one door; one that matched another on the other door. “This is similar to the symbol for infinity,” he said. Then, moving to the matching symbol, “And it appears to be connected to this one.”
He then moved to the space between the two, tracing an elaborate rune that was split between the two doors. “But this one, that connects the two, is something I do not recognize.”
Eamon studied the rune carefully, leaning in to look closer. “There is something familiar about it,” he said, “as if I’ve seen it somewhere before. This one on the right, the symbol for infinity, I recognize it too. If you look closely, you can see that it is not identical to the one on the left. I recognize the Dragon’s influence on its shape.”
Hamal leaned in closer, inspecting the left rune. His eyes lit up as he recognized that it was definitely overlaid with the symbol of Imbra. He looked at the runes nearby, seeing the same symbol repeated three other times, each with slight variations. All of them appeared to be connected with the symbol in the center; a circle divided evenly into five equal parts, with a small depression in the center.
“It is a symbol of victory,” Hamal said. “It signifies the Lifegiver’s defeat of the five Firstborn.”
“Or perhaps their sacrifice,” Faeraon said from behind, stepping up to join them. “Traegus, can you replicate the energies of the three firstborn who are not represented here?”
Traegus nodded. “I am familiar with their patterns, yes.”
He held out his staff, focusing on creating three tendrils of magic that emerged from his gem like coiling serpents. Each tendril stretched and fluctuated as it sought out its mark, circling around each one until finally connecting to their respective marks. “Eamon, Hamal, touch your symbols and focus on your fathers.”
Eamon reached out to touch the Dragon’s symbol, surprised when his fingers seemed to bring the symbol to life beneath his fingertips. Hamal did the same, but was disappointed when his symbol did nothing. Traegus scowled.
“It is not working,” Hamal said.
“Focus on Imbra,” Traegus said. “Feel his power within you.”
Suddenly, a brilliant flash of blue erupted behind them. Traegus and Faeraon turned to see a swirling mass of energy snaking its way quickly across the sand. As it stretched and swirled, long tendrils extended out, streaking straight toward Hamal’s body.
He cried out in surprise, trembling as the power permeated his flesh. Small sparks danced across the surface of his skin, dissipating when they reached his fingertips. Underneath his fingertips, the symbol came to life.
“Imbra,” he whispered. “Imbra has returned to the Great Mother.”
As the five symbols began to glow brightly, the circle in the center began to spin. They continued to focus their energies, closing their eyes as the brilliance came too much to bear. Then, with a loud clap of thunder, and a rumbling that nearly knocked them from their feet, the doors exploded inward, shattering into dust and debris that obscured their view of the city’s interior.
They coughed and choked as the rumbling died down, shielding themselves from any debris that fell from the archway above. Then, all was silent.
Hamal drew his blade once more. “Come,” he said. “Our destinies await.”
He stepped over the rubble, disappearing into the dust cloud ahead. The others wordlessly followed.
Somewhere, within the depths of the Great Pyramid, the Lifegiver bellowed with laughter.
Chapter Twenty Five
“It is all falling into place,” Farouk said, staring off to the east from atop Tel Drakkar. “Everything.”
Jodocus smiled, petting the moorcat on the head. “It was a tragedy to lose the Firstborn,” he grieved. “But I suppose their sacrifice was necessary.”
“We have all had to make sacrifices, my friend,” Farouk said. “But none as great as theirs.”
Jodocus grunted, chuckling to himself. “You’re forgetting that I died once.”
Farouk placed his hand on Jodocus’ head. “You did, indeed. But now you are back. That is, if you are truly the same Jodocus that opened my eyes to the ways of the Earth.”
“I am the same, but different.”
The moorcat growled quietly. “How can something be the same and different all at once? That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Good question,” Farouk said quietly. “And you, my friend, are forgetting that I died once, too. It was far in the north, in the freezing cold.”
He could see Jodocus look up at him from the corner of his eye. He looked down to smile
at the boy, but noticed that something was troubling him. “What is it?” he asked.
“I will miss Jhayla,” he said, sadly.
Farouk pursed his lips, knowing how much the boy loved her. “I will miss her, too. She was a great ranger, and an even better warrior. She will be missed by everyone, I suppose. But you must remember that she did not die in vain. She gave her life to protect her home. That is what true warriors do.”
“Adder is missing,” Jodocus said. “I don’t know where he has gone.”
“He will return someday,” Farouk assured him. “I promise you. This is his home. He just needs some time to clear his head, and then he will come back.”
“Will you ever go back home?” Jodocus asked.
“Someday,” he said. “When this is over, I will want to see what exactly lies within the Great Pyramid.”
The moorcat growled again. “What do you think is in there?”
“I am not sure. All of the secrets of the Universe could be hidden within its depths. If not, then I will travel the world, learning them all, and then I will take them there.”
“What do you mean?” Jodocus asked.
“There will come a time when the Earth will sleep,” Farouk explained. “You know this. As Gaia lies dormant, much destruction will occur. Humanity will have to survive on its own, and may forget everything it has learned.”
“That might be a good thing,” Jodocus remarked.
Farouk nodded. “Indeed. But there are those who will have to rebuild. I will ensure that they have the knowledge to do so.”
“That’s a noble cause,” the moorcat said.
They were all silent for a moment as they considered the future. Each of them had their own ideas, fears, and concerns. What would happen to the lands? Where would humanity take refuge when the Earth began its change? Who would survive, and who would die off?
Farouk’s main concern, however, was repairing the world of Alvheim. The Mother spirit he carried in his gem was needed elsewhere. Though he had secretly given Eamon much of her power, her consciousness remained, and it needed a home.
“It is time to go,” Farouk said. “We shall find Allora and go to her world. Jodocus, I want you to come, too.”
Jodocus grinned. “I am ready,” he said. “I have some gifts for Theia I think she will like. Will Torak come with us?”
Farouk shook his head. “I believe he has his own concerns.”
Aeli and Torak accompanied the Alvar and the rangers around the temple grounds, incinerating the corpses that remained scattered around. Torak had advised them all to burn them where they lay, as coming in contact with them would put them all at risk of joining the undead. It was an unpleasant task, but it was one that needed to be done.
Sadly, Jhayla’s body was among them. Aeli’s heart sank when she saw the young woman lying face up with Adder’s blade still embedded in her chest. Her sadness grew as she approached. Jhayla’s eyes were open, but black and lifeless. Adder had ended her suffering just in time, it seemed. Still, the thought of never seeing Jhayla again broke Aeli’s heart.
She knelt next to her, resisting the urge to reach out and touch her. Instead, she took Adder’s sword in her grasp and tugged it free. She laid the blade down beside her and closed her eyes to fight off the tears that welled within them.
“I understand your loss,” Torak said from behind her. She said nothing, still untrusting of the man that had caused so much chaos in the world. Nevertheless, he approached.
“I know that I can never make up for what I have done,” he said. “But I will do what I can to help you honor this woman’s life. I know you loved her.”
“What can you do?” she asked, rising to meet him.
He lowered his gaze when she turned, seemingly afraid to lock eyes with her. She felt a small amount of sympathy for him, despite all that she knew. He was genuinely ashamed, and had offered to help.
“I will do anything I can,” he said. “She performed her duty with all of her heart. I felt that in her when I first saw her. She deserved a better death, all of them did. But we can honor them by building some kind of memorial.”
Aeli sighed. “Building a memorial is not an easy task. Were it so, then I would agree. They all deserve recognition.”
“I will help,” Torak said. “We will ask Khalid where a good place would be to build it when we return.”
Aeli nodded, truly appreciative of Torak’s offer to help, and for his kind words. Perhaps he wasn’t the demon she had thought he was. Not anymore, at least. Though it had always been her experience that people do not generally change for the better, he seemed to be an exception. She could feel it.
“That would be wonderful,” she said. “I am sure King Eamon will approve.”
Torak smiled. “Of course.”
Aeli stepped away, turning back to Jhayla’s body. She retrieved Adder’s sword, stuffing it in her belt. “I will take care of this part,” she said.
Torak wordlessly turned and walked away, leaving Aeli to finish the heart-wrenching task.
“Goodbye, my friend,” she said as the flames erupted from her staff.
Farouk’s small group appeared in the forest near Jodocus’ old cottage. It was here that Farouk had discovered the rift after Jodocus and the rangers sensed Faeraon walking through the forest in a parallel dimension; the world of Alvheim. Now, the trio would travel there, bringing with them the spirit of Theia. Allora seemed hesitant to make the journey, as she was loathe to see her beautiful world in its current state. Jodocus, however, was excited and hopeful. He had faith that the contents of his pack would eventually bring the desolate world back to its former beauty.
He had still not explained to Farouk what he had brought, but the Grand Druid had an idea.
“Are you ready?” Farouk asked.
“Yes,” Jodocus and Allora said in unison.
Farouk tucked his staff into his belt, holding out his hands for the others to grasp. Though probably not necessary, he wanted to make sure that they actually went with him, and didn’t remain on Earth while he walked through the rift.
“Close your eyes,” he said. “Picture yourself walking through a door.”
He looked to either side to confirm that his instructions were followed, and then walked forward. He felt the familiar tugging between dimensions as the rift was breached, and then the mild disoriented feeling as it closed behind them.
“We are here,” he said.
Alvheim was just as he remembered it. The dry, lifeless soil lay like an unending desert, complete with the pale, skeletal remains of millions of lifeless trees. The sky above was dull, cloudless, and obscured with dust. Jodocus looked around in awe, his face frozen in shock. Allora was a different story.
She collapsed to her knees, covering her face with trembling hands. She wept silently, her shoulder jerking with each sob. Farouk knelt next to her, comforting her with a gentle hand.
“Fear not,” he said. “We will bring your world back to life.”
“It is heartbreaking,” she whispered. “It was such a beautiful place once. It will never be the same again, no matter what.”
“We will do the best we can,” he assured her.
Farouk rose, bringing Allora with him. “I have friends who can help,” Farouk said. “You remember one of them.”
He stepped forward, seeking a flat surface where he could release the defilers who resided in his gem. They would assist in creating a link between the land and the sun; one that would help Theia rebuild her energy from the true life giver that burned brightly in the sky. Knowing that it was the actual nature of their species, it was the best course of action. He knew in his heart that their gratitude for his liberation of their kind would be reciprocated.
Farouk knelt, embedding his staff in the dusty ground. Then, he closed his eyes and called his gem to life. Slowly, it began to glow brightly. Tiny wisps of energy came through the surface, growing larger and larger until they formed a ghostly mass of life force that rose
higher above him. It split into five separate parts; each one settling on a place on the ground.
Five defilers rose from them, with the black defiler standing in the center. Their tall, wispy forms settled into solid matter, and Farouk was pleased when he saw the smile on Allora’s face. He stood, moving next to Jodocus as Allora approached her otherworldly friend. The creature reached out to caress her face, gently feeling her presence and expressing its great love for her.
“Do you remember how beautiful this world was, my friend?” she asked.
The creature’s eyes blinked warmly, a sign that it understood and sympathized.
“You will help us bring it back to life, then?”
The defiler reached out with its other hand, holding Allora’s head within them, bringing its face closer to hers.
“It understands,” she said, smiling. “It wants to remain here to protect us.”
Farouk looked down at Jodocus and smiled. The boy’s face echoed his own emotion. He was glad that someone else like Allora had stumbled upon the truth about the alien creatures, and had been sympathetic to their plight. They needed a new world, and Alvheim was the perfect place for them. Together with the spirit of Theia, they could rebuild it; a make it a place for both they and the Alvar to remain forever.
It was a beautiful thought.
Now, the black defiler directed its companions to take their places at each cardinal point, forming a large diamond formation. The lone creature stood in the center, crouching down and wrapping its webbed tentacles around itself. The others raised their long, spindly arms, reaching high into the sky to absorb the energy of the sun. They spread their fingers, and dug their toes into the ground to form roots. The creatures grew larger as they formed new limbs and beautiful silvery leaves at the ends of each treelike branch.
“What are they doing?” Jodocus asked.
“They will help Theia regain her life force by absorbing from the sun,” he said. “Like trees.”
Eclipsing the Darkness (The Dragon Chronicles Book 5) Page 22