Eurue- The Forgotten World

by Elaina J Davidson

  “And you are of the ruling family.”

  “My brother is king. Given our oath, we call him Keeper.”

  “Why did you not tell at least me?”

  Alusin offered a wry smile. “I intended to once I knew I had your heart. You had to trust me first. Me, not a prince of a forgotten world.”

  Tristan stared at him. “Trust. How is that even possible now?”

  “It was one secret, Tristan. Did not Torrullin keep the secret of cycles? This was a directive; I had no choice.”

  Replacing his mug on the tray, Tristan said, “Fine, I can eventually accept that. I do understand the constraints of rulership, after all, having been groomed to be a king myself. But did it ever occur to you that you needed to trust me and that trust might have led to more before this? You tell me I hold back, but now I realise you have as well.”

  Alusin leaned back to stare up at the ceiling, eyes tracking the intricate curls there. “It’s hard. I haven’t loved a man before either.” He snorted laughter. “Honestly? I don’t even know what to do when it comes to that kind of intimacy.”

  Silence, the loaded kind, entered the library, and then Tristan burst out laughing. “Thank the gods! I thought I was the only clueless one.”

  Smiling, the Kemir met a dancing gaze. “Might be better for our peace of mind if we stick to brothers-in-arms for the foreseeable future. There’s all this expectation, you know?”

  Tristan slapped at his thighs. “I know! Drives me insane.”

  “Peace?”

  Tristan nodded. “A truce, at least.”

  “Fine. Now allow me to heal that nose.”

  “And my ribs. Bloody hell, you hit hard.”

  Grinning, Alusin headed over to hunker before him. He moved easily, for he had already healed his own scrapes. “Show me.” He released an explosive breath when Tristan did just that. “Cracked, not just bruised. Keep still.” He touched, ruthlessly clamping his reaction to warm skin down, and withdrew. “That should ease your kidneys too.” Rising, he gestured. “Your nose.”

  Tristan leaned back, his eyes silvering again. “Brothers, huh? You lie.”

  Reaching for the man’s broken nose, Alusin growled, “Shut up.”

  Tristan gripped his wrist and yanked him closer. His free hand lifted to entangle in white hair at his neck. With eyes almost transparent, he pulled Alusin’s mouth to his and kissed him.

  Alusin jerked away. “What are you doing?”

  “Heal my final scars, Alusin. Now.”

  “No. That was no kiss. That was …”

  Tristan stood in a flurry of movement, gripped the man by his tunic and pulled him in, holding his head, a grip Alusin did not fight, and claimed those lips as a lover would, with all intent present. The connection deepened, and their bodies cleaved together. As unexpected as it was, and although terribly new to both, shudders of need overcame both, instantly.

  In the aftermath, filled with laboured breath and pounding hearts, they stared at each other.

  “Now we’re screwed,” Alusin muttered eventually.

  Tristan’s lips quirked up. “Heal me.”

  Pale hands lifted to golden skin, and the Kemir healed everything. “Why?”

  “I need to be whole in order to confront Gabryl. You need to be whole.”

  Elsewhere

  WALK AWAY, Alusin, she whispered to the spaces. Love hurts too much.

  Living hurt also. As she now fought to die rather than summon others to their eternal incarceration, she discovered how fighting the life racing through her healing body hurt her with every denial of its gifts.

  By all gods, he would pay for every affront. The monster had shaped from her love a hatred as powerful as creation itself, but she did not intend to create; she would annihilate.

  Chapter 19

  Knowledge is not only Power; Knowledge is Insight

  ~ Awl ~

  Eurue

  Alusin’s Fortress

  HAVING CHECKED THAT Kila and Jimini ferried the survivors of the Kor clan to the Grunway Hall, Tristan sent the co-ordinates of Alusin’s home to Belun. They had agreed this was a good place to gather, now and in the future.

  The Kaval would arrive soon.

  In the meantime, Alusin had absconded to various places in search of supplies, returning with basketsful after every foray. He ensured no one uncovered his identity.

  It felt as if they prepared for a siege.

  It might come to that, given what Gabryl achieved at his chateau. Best be prepared. To that end, Tristan traipsed through the castle on the look out for places to hide and for weapons to aid them.

  He discovered many bed chambers and bathrooms. The chambers were well appointed, if in need of a clean, the bathrooms less so. There was running water, but no heat.

  The weapons he did find were useless, most having rusted away. Suits of armour lining imposing hallways caused him to snort. This mausoleum belonged in the Middle Ages of a long forgotten time.

  He straightened before one such suit. Gabryl spent time in that era. The dandified clothes he donned proved it was a period he was most comfortable in. Frowning, Tristan moved on. Was there something they could use regarding that time frame?

  A ruckus downstairs revealed that the Kaval had arrived, and he abandoned his wander to head down to them.

  “All good?” Belun queried.

  “Yes,” Tristan murmured. “A truce. I do understand the constraints a royal family places on one.”

  “Alusin is a royal?” Amunti put in.

  At that moment the man himself entered the hallway. “Prince of the Realm, first in line to the throne of Eurue. My brother rules, but has no children. He, too, is immortal.”

  “Meaning you probably won’t ever get to sit on that throne,” Jonas pointed out.

  Alusin grinned. “No, and thank the gods.”

  Chaim gently shouldered his way forward and reached up to place two fingertips upon Tristan’s cheek. “You are healed, Tristan Skyler Valla.”

  Clasping the old man’s hand in his, Tristan murmured, “I am.”

  “Excellent.” Chaim smiled and retreated.

  Belun threw a thumb’s-up over his shoulder as he headed into the library. “Good to see your pretty face again, my friend.”

  “Bugger off, Centuar.”

  Laughing, the flamboyant man vanished into the larger space, and called to Jonas. “Mate, wait till you see the knowledge on these shelves!”

  Groaning, Jonas followed. “Research, research, research.”

  Assint and Mahler, rolling eyes, followed him, and so too the others.

  Tristan and Alusin were for a brief moment alone.

  “You are definitely a charismatic. Because you said you understand my situation, they accept me again. You will be extraordinarily powerful in the years to come.”

  “Power doesn’t interest me,” Tristan rebutted.

  “I am aware.” Smiling, Alusin entered the library as well.

  When Tristan followed, it was to hear Galarth saying, “… needs to know! Savier was most insistent.”

  “You have met my brother?” Alusin demanded.

  “Yes, and …”

  “Gal, wait a moment,” Tristan interrupted. “Let us first catch up on what we missed. Sit, everyone. Fuma, if you would please summarise for us.”

  UNCOUNTED HOURS LATER, it was night and all were exhausted. All nuances and information, as well as events, had been shared.

  It was time to eat and then sleep.

  Morning, and Savier, would come soon enough.

  AN HOUR AFTER the fortress - he thought of it as a fortress, but his brother called it a castle - stilled for the night, Alusin paced his bedchamber, a massive suite overlooking the cliffs where the building curved away from the front façade.

  When a knock sounded at his door, he nearly slumped in his relief. Tristan had come.

  Opening the door, he stood aside. “There is an adjoining chamber through there, if you’re interested.” He wa
ved casually at a door set between a fireplace and the massive window expanse.

  “I’m interested.” Tristan entered and headed directly to it. He opened the door, slipped inside and closed it again.

  Smiling to himself, Alusin bolted the main door to his suite, and moved to his bed. After removing his boots and scabbard, he lay down on top of the musty covers and closed his eyes. Only moments later, he too fell into the realm of dreams.

  The storm raged on.

  TWELVE MEN DID not for a clean kitchen make. Jonas muttered about using magic to clear the mess after breakfast, but knew it was a bad idea. Gabryl would sniff them out in a heartbeat.

  “Just saying,” he said.

  “I’m going to roster your arse,” Belun said. “You’re on first clean up. Get to it.”

  “That’s unfair.”

  “Relax; I’m on the next shift. Amunti, find ink and paper, or whatever passes for paper here, and make us a roster.”

  Laughing at Jonas, Amunti left the cavernous kitchen. Grumbling, Jonas headed to the scullery. Everyone else got up to help out, causing the beleaguered man to smile his appreciation.

  Soon all sat at the massive wooden table where the kitchen staff would usually enjoy their meals.

  “No staff?” Tristan murmured.

  Alusin shrugged. “I’m never here.”

  Glancing around the table, Tristan said, “Eurue as world, we need to understand her. History, geography, residents. Alusin?”

  The Kemir shoved his hair behind his ears and leaned in, elbows on table. “Larger than Valaris, but smaller than Akhavar, Eurue has five continents, a host of islands, and typical polar regions. Diversity is prevalent, from high peaks to lower than sea level areas. Oceans are salty; water is fresh and drinkable, many rivers and lakes. Mostly verdant, but there are small dry regions, although not quite desert as elsewhere.”

  “Paradise,” Chaim murmured.

  “It is, yes. We are sparse, population wise, around five hundred thousand.”

  “True paradise,” Fuma said.

  “True paradise has no people in it, in my opinion, but I see your point. We are too few to despoil this world. Now. In the past that wasn’t how it was. When the craft left for Kinsail, billions had died. We were over-populated and paid that price. A mere ten thousand were left and we rebuilt the land, not cities. Eventually we reached almost a million, and then our numbers went into decline. We are fewer now year by year.”

  “Why?” Galarth asked.

  “Immortals cannot have children, and many of the remaining Kemir are immortal.”

  “What about tech?” Jonas queried. “Don’t see much of it here.”

  “We saw electricity in the village Savier took us to,” Shenendo said.

  “No craft, no vehicles of any kind, and no technological communication, but the basics are in place. Lighting, heat …” Alusin laughed at Jonas’ expression. “No heat here, sorry. This place is old.”

  “Have any cities evolved with time?” Chaim asked.

  “Large towns, no cities. There is, however, the palace, where my brother lives, a massive building. Much surrounds it in present day, from homes to inns, every trade you can imagine and an all-year market. Most of it is enclosed in a battlement wall.” Alusin shrugged. “It isn’t a city, but is as near as. We call it Kemirin.”

  “Five continents,” Belun said. “How do you communicate, travel?”

  “Immortals are sorcerers, you know this. For the most part, our mode of doing things is much like the Valleur’s.”

  “For the most part?”

  Alusin smiled. “Not all Kemir are sorcerers.”

  Tristan leaned in. “How much do the Kemir of today know of the one in the sarcophagus?”

  Alusin shrugged again. “This is not a question we ask, but for most I’d say it is a legend. The legend that makes a Keeper. The older immortals are more aware, but that too is an assumption. As I said, we don’t talk about this.”

  “Why not?” Fuma frowned.

  Inhaling, the Kemir said, “Given how this entire situation crept up on me and caught me utterly unprepared, ignorance in this is a dangerous state. Folk should know, mortal and immortal.” He lifted his gaze upward, an unseeing expression evident. “The legend tells us that to say his name is to awaken him. I guess the more forgotten he is, the less likely it is that someone will call out his name.”

  “You said his name, perhaps accidentally?” Mahler murmured.

  “No, but I sundered my oath when I swore loyalty to the Kaval. Apparently that opened a door for him.” Alusin lowered his gaze. “I did not know this would come to pass. Like to most Kemir, I thought him a legend, a myth. I believed my oath was to my brother, the Keeper, and, well, my brother wouldn’t be too broken-hearted if I chose a different direction for my life, now would he?”

  Chaim, opposite Tristan, started pulling faces. “A niggle. Wait. Ah! The oath. Your original oath. You gave it to your brother after he became Keeper?”

  Alusin nodded.

  “Hmm, thus logic dictates you believed it a traditional state, one based on an older past. Did all Kemir swear this oath?”

  Alusin blinked and a frown settled between his brows. Tapping at the table, he said, “Now that you mention it, no. I did, and an uncle and …” He swore then. “And two cousins. The oath therefore is …”

  “A family oath,” Chaim murmured. “And why would that be, unless it is because your family bound him.”

  Tristan released an explosive breath. “And for one of you to break faith …” He rubbed at the spot between his eyebrows. “You may not have acted deliberately, Alusin, but you did in fact start this.”

  The Kemir made a wry sound in his throat. “I know it now.”

  Tristan smiled. “Oh, relax, shit happens. Torrullin made some monumental blunders in his time too, so even the best of us make mistakes. He wasn’t alone and you aren’t either.” He chuckled unexpectedly. “Man, terrible as this sounds, I have been wishing …”

  “… for a Torrullin-sized fuck up?” Belun laughed uproariously. “Me too! Life has been too staid recently.”

  Tristan rose with his palm up, which the Centuar met with his. The resultant high-five smack spoke volumes.

  Amunti rolled his eyes. “Man, you guys are crazy.”

  Chaim, quietly chortling, murmured, “We love crazy, my friend.”

  Assint neighed, slapping at the table, causing everyone to erupt in mirth.

  Thank you, Alusin mouthed to Tristan.

  The fair man winked.

  Elsewhere

  BLOOD OF KIN enabled much. This she understood from her research into the Valleur and their bloodlines, particularly the Valla line.

  The research stood her in good stead now. While she could no longer study new material since her capture, she was able to use what she had learned.

  Blood of kin was paramount in her present. It enabled her to see through eyes not her own.

  Thus she watched for nuances through Alusin’s eyes … and Gabryl’s.

  Kemirin

  ALUSIN STATED IT would cause too many whispers if a host of strangers entered Kemirin, therefore he would take only Tristan with him to see his brother.

  Galarth and Shenendo were disappointed, but agreed. When they mentioned the language barrier, Alusin murmured he would gift each member of the Kaval the ability to understand Kemir, and had already done so for Tristan.

  Kemirin, when they arrived on the main paved path entering the town, was larger than Tristan expected. Its antiquity struck him next. Raised in stone, the patina a march of years deposited on stone exposed to the elements told a tale of many years. The battlement wall proved to be a marvel in architecture; not only was it massive, strong and functional, but it possessed presence. Trees and shrubs, and a host of colourful blooms, spilled welcome from above, and thus was the battlement part of life here. Even from their distance, he discerned people strolling along the park-like walk above. It made him smile; Eurue truly was abou
t peace and tranquillity.

  A portcullis brooded in raised position in the arch of entrance, never lowered, according to Alusin. Tristan marked its presence, though, thinking it might be needed before long.

  Within, all was ordered and clean. Wide cobbled thoroughfares twisted amid cottage and business, and everywhere flowers abounded, creepers adorned walls, and mighty trees threw shade.

  “Pretty,” Tristan murmured.

  Alusin did not respond, except to smile. His shoulders eased somewhat, as if releasing tension.

  The Kemir on the streets were mostly white-haired, but fair and coppery shades were also in evidence. Shapes varied from tall and spare to short and not so spare. Most were women about daily tasks, but he saw men laughing and drinking in an enclosure filled with outdoor seating, clearly enjoying life. Dress varied, although most were natural hues. Few children were about. Unless they were at lessons, Alusin’s claim about a population in decline was more real than was comfortable.

  “It’s warm.”

  “Early summer here in the southern hemisphere,” Alusin murmured. “That monstrosity we’re at is in the north. Storm season there.”

  They headed further in and came upon a large area filled with stalls. Literally everything was on display, from fresh vegetables to cooked dishes; jewellery to daggers; oil paintings to manure; an endless variety. More people were about too, buying and selling, and the din was a buzz of sound.

  “Caballa would’ve loved this,” Tristan said, without thinking.

  Twitching, Alusin murmured, “No doubt.”

  Pressing his lips together and berating himself, Tristan allowed his gaze to wander further ahead, for now the palace came into view.

  A deep river divided the town from the palace, a broad stone bridge crossing the divide. As they stepped onto it, the market’s din faded away. The sound of rushing water overcame all other noises, whether of the natural world or of voice. He halted to look down. Deep, indeed. And swift. Dark.