Eurue- The Forgotten World

by Elaina J Davidson

  Tristan closed his eyes.

  THUMP, THUMP, STRUM; music.

  Again he alighted on the wooden bridge, the light more diffuse than earlier. Squinting up, he noticed clouds rolling in. A storm brewed for Avaelyn.

  Fair hair caught his attention peripherally, and he moved slightly to focus there. Torrullin braced on the edge of the elemental dwelling he and Elianas called home, clearly tense. Another moved into position beside him, speaking, gesticulating. Dark hair swung as he moved.

  Elianas.

  As if Elianas heard the recognition, dark eyes shifted to find him, impaled him. Elianas smiled then, and placed a hand over his heart. Torrullin, ever alert, followed the direction of Elianas’ gaze, and inhaled. His hand too lifted to his chest, pressed there.

  They understood this was a visitation, for neither moved to approach.

  Smiling, Tristan rested both palms over his pounding heart.

  HE OPENED HIS eyes. His chin sank to his chest.

  By all gods, he missed them.

  He rose, and then Alusin was before him. Without words, he hauled the man close. He finally understood what it meant to have and be an Eternal Companion. It was connection. It was belonging.

  Music, in glory, soared into the multiverse.

  Chapter 38

  Phew, boy, this is complicated!

  ~ Tattle to his scribe ~

  Kashdar

  BELUN WOULD PROBABLY suffer palpitations if he knew Tristan had brought the fop into the Kashdarian forest the Centuar called home when away from Dome duty.

  The three Centuar, however, occasionally wandered a small part of the forest; Tristan, Alusin and Gabryl materialised in the north where the trees were gigantic, ancient and densely populated the lower slopes of Mount Kandis.

  Here mist was ever present, sometimes thin tendrils weaving amid the aged sentinels and at other times a white soup to forever get lost in.

  This day the vapour meandered in an in-between state, both wispy and almost impenetrable alternately, conditions perfect for monster tales and fairy stories. Inspiration.

  As ghosts they appeared to each other and all inhaled deeply of the vaporous air, as if it gave them strength.

  “Beautiful,” Gabryl murmured, leaning to place a hand flat against an ancient bole. “So much life here.”

  Flicking him a glance and shaking his head - it seemed he needed to reorder his perception of the Diluvan man, to set aside the daetal original he thought him to be until this point - Alusin transferred his attention to Tristan.

  The Valleur’s eyes were completely silver. Those orbs fixed on him. “We are all original souls,” he murmured. “Timekeepers, inside, are old.”

  Alusin’s lips quirked. “Told you. Young vessel, old soul.”

  Tristan grinned. “You were right.”

  “The music of the first sentients,” Gabryl stated, “is time itself. The younger hear it sometimes, but the older feel it.” He approached and tapped Tristan’s arm. “Now dampen those eyes. You will frighten folk.”

  “I have a feeling we are not returning to the fortress,” Alusin said. “What are you up to now? We’ve suffered enough surprises.”

  “Your monstrosity is compromised,” Gabryl nodded. “That is where the twin sarcophagus is, am I right? Of course I am. Was it empty, do you know?”

  “We didn’t open it,” Tristan murmured. His eyes gradually darkened.

  “Be glad you did not. It is empty,” Gabryl stated, “and that is a dangerous state. I cannot and will not enter a space where a tomb is able to summon me back into eternal darkness. This means avoiding, at all costs, both sarcophagi.”

  “Being empty, it will entrap you anew?” Alusin frowned.

  “Indeed. The destination rune upon it is, after all, Eurue, and therefore on Eurue I will be, lying once more in a coffin.” He rested against the trunk nearest him and folded his arms. “Until Tristan spoke my true name with the Song in ascendancy, my body remained incarcerated and the Gabryl you reacted to was in a between state. Every action from the moment of our meeting at the chateau drew more of me through, and now that terrible object is finally empty. Know this; it and the one at your fortress needs protecting. Anyone stupid enough to open either in curiosity will be as trapped.”

  Sighing, Alusin held a hand up. “No one is able to stand beside your coffin, but let me …” His eyes unfocused briefly, before he blinked. “Cathian’s is protected. Valleur warriors guard it.” He lifted his gaze to Tristan. “Tianoman is at the fortress.”

  “I am aware,” Tristan murmured. His eyes had attained their usual clear grey.

  “Is he as aware of you?”

  One corner of Tristan’s lips curved up. “Yes.”

  “Then they know we are back,” Alusin said. “We need to …”

  “No,” Gabryl snapped. “We stay together. The instant I set foot into your hallowed halls, the Valleur will capture me. Savier will want to behead me. I am strong, but not against a Golden host.” He tapped one finger upon his upper arm. “Allow me to explain something to you.”

  Alusin spread his hands, once again feeling the need to murder the man.

  “As explained, all that has come to pass has been the prodding you required, but there is more. You cannot trust me yet, and that is one reason I intend to keep the location of the Petunya farmers secret. Until you do believe me, they remain my leverage. I give you my word, they are safe, and when you do trust me, you will know my word is my honour.”

  Alusin and Tristan glanced at each other, but did not interrupt.

  Gabryl then cleared his throat, obviously reluctant to put sound to his thoughts regarding what came next. “Truth is, this is about Cathian.” He rushed on before they could speak. “My sister kept me not only alive through the ages, but she also kept me sane. Now, today, I am again my true self, and she deserves the same.”

  Alusin gaped at the man, unable to voice his response, and Tristan closed in on Gabryl, bracing in front of the man, folding his arms as well. “She lives.”

  “She lives, yes,” Gabryl whispered, “but I cannot find her.”

  “This was and is about your twin, all of it,” Tristan stated.

  “It is about both of us, and would you not move mountains for your family?”

  Closing his eyes, Tristan sighed. “I would break time for them, indeed.”

  Gabryl swallowed. “Then you understand. She has waited and hoped and given everything, for me. She entered the sarcophagus for me. In some form, she is out there, as I was, perhaps also in the living dead state I was forced to assume. That does mess with your sanity, friend, and I pray she is still the sister I knew, but even if she isn’t, I need to find her. She needs her true name.”

  Alusin paced forward until he stood beside Tristan. “Then we will find her. I too would annihilate worlds if my brother was lost to me.” He laughed lightly. “And she is my grandmother, after all.”

  The relief that overcame the Diluvan was palpable. He inhaled and exhaled as if releasing the burden of realms within him.

  He bowed. “Thank you.”

  “Fuck, now I like you again,” Alusin muttered. He moved away with misty tendrils wrapping around him. “So what’s next?”

  Eurue

  The Fortress

  IN THE SMALL chamber near the kitchen, Savier faced Tianoman, Commander Krestin, Belun and Chaim. He had asked for the conversation to remain between them, and suggested the more private space.

  Tianoman had agreed and now sat in an ancient chair at the scarred round table where staff members of a previous area took their leisure after hours.

  The room was plain, but clean, and also far warmer than the library area. A small grate hosted a bright blaze in the far wall.

  In front of Savier a thick leather-bound book waited, his right hand resting upon it.

  “This is Cathian Algheri’s journal, but in here she also recorded tales.” He stared at the book, and slowly lowered into the chair waiting for him. “When my fat
her passed on, I inherited the enchanted key to Gabryl’s tomb, and only later discovered it unlocked other forbidden items also. This.” He tapped the book. “She read to us from this, but we have never actually seen the contents. Always she locked it away, but a century or so back, around the time Alusin met Tristan, I used the key to retrieve this. Imagine my surprise when that lock suddenly released after it had defied all previous attempts.”

  “Have you read it?” Tianoman asked, placing his forearms on the table and clasping his hands together.

  Savier snorted. “No. I still have not found the courage to do so. When I realised it needed an enchanted key, I also understood it contained dangerous information, and at the time I was dealing with Alusin’s desertion. I put it back, and bloody ignored it.” He shook his head. “A foolish choice, I admit.”

  “Or maybe you weren’t meant to read it until now,” Chaim murmured.

  “And regret is a useless state,” Belun added. “Forget what you didn’t do and deal with it in this present.”

  “Hold,” Tianoman said, straightening in his seat. Moments later a brilliant smile erupted. “Tristan is back in Reaume. Safe and whole, he tells me. Alusin is with him and …” He frowned. “… Gabryl.”

  “Where?” Savier demanded.

  “He hasn’t confirmed, but says they will meet up with us soon.” Tianoman relaxed into his former posture. “Let us deal with this. Perhaps this news is as pertinent as theirs.”

  Grimacing, Savier nodded. “Very well. Allow me to find what I am looking for …” As he spoke, he flipped the leather cover up and aided the open leaf to a flatter position. With the first page now before him, he focused … and jerked upright. “Lowry,” he gargled. “She calls herself Cathian Lowry, same as on the sarcophagus.”

  “Her true name. She is connected to Gabryl.”

  Savier met the Vallorin’s gaze. “But how?”

  Tianoman shrugged. “Tristan will know by now.”

  Cursing inaudibly, Savier commenced flipping pages. As he went, his eyes grew ever rounder, but he said not a word. Eventually he pressed the open text flat. “Here it is. The Original Knight.”

  “Just the high points, please,” Belun said.

  Eyeing the Centuar, Savier nodded. It was a lengthy tale. He scanned the writing as he spoke. “Basically it says, in a future time orbs will arise from under the surface of a world and that a man will stand forth and send them on their way. A knight.” He looked up briefly. “Alusin and I realised she was telling us about the Oskil, but we thought an Algheri would be the knight.” Shaking his head, he muttered, “Never mind. The tale then goes into this knight’s history. She did not read the history to us, always saying we would hear it when we were ready to understand.”

  “Before you detail that, what made you think the knight is Gabryl?’ Chaim asked.

  “A knight would end it; Gabryl ended it,” Savier scowled. “Suddenly he is our saviour? Ha.”

  “I do not know how much you heard about what happened on Valaris, the Valleur heartworld, but have you heard of Margus?” Tianoman asked.

  “A Darak Or, according to Alusin.”

  “Correct. Margus plagued Torrullin for a long time, and in the end was instrumental in saving Valaris. See, Margus did not start out evil, and he thus knew of honour. Perhaps, Savier, Gabryl has a similar story.”

  The Keeper grimaced. “Maybe.” He stared down at his grandmother’s journal. “Much of what I thought of as unassailable has recently fallen by the wayside. Even regarding what I believed about my own flesh and blood.” Inhaling anew, he went on, tapping the table in a rhythm to accompany his words.

  “In the Mists of Time …”

  He stopped when he noticed Tianoman’s reaction to those opening words.

  “Words I have heard before,” the Vallorin murmured, his face tight. “Go on.”

  “… their father was lonely. On the spherical lands he walked in isolation …” Again Savier paused. “What is it, Vallorin?”

  Tianoman had leaned in to press his fingers against his taut cheeks. Belun and Chaim glanced at each in a too significant manner as well.

  Briefly pressing his lips together, Tianoman said, “We know this tale, this part of it, at least.”

  “And?” Savier scowled.

  “That describes Alexander Diluvan and his homeworld Orb.”

  When Chaim nodded in silent agreement, Savier shuddered. “The High King who is now Emperor of Grinwallin?”

  Belun snorted. “Indeed.”

  “Read on,” Chaim murmured.

  After a moment, Savier did so, his tone without a hint of expression.

  “… and raised a home, stone by stone, until a marvellous palace one day waited for the voices of his children to sing within. The halls and chambers were empty, an affront to the imagination of their father. He thus summoned his children from the fertility of the trees, waters, seeds and air surrounding him, wishing for laughter and joy, for companionship …”

  Savier ceased reading. His voice was no longer expressionless. Swallowing, he gazed across the table at Tianoman.

  “He created life, didn’t he? Alexander pulled from the ether of his imagination a people. His children.”

  “He did.”

  “The Kemir did the same, but we … we …” He closed his mouth and simply stared at the Vallorin, unable to voice the thought.

  “It cannot now matter,” Tianoman said.

  Savier huffed. “It matters. We played at gods and in our arrogance created evil. Alexander created with love and hope … oh.” His head jerked down to the book.

  “… and on a day so bright, the mists cleared away early, a day of great and forever joyfulness, two children rose up from the waving summer grasses, and laughed for the first time. A boy and a girl, the same in all, identical siblings …”

  “By all gods,” Tianoman whispered.

  Savier squeezed his eyes shut and then swiftly reopened them. “They ran to their father, into his astonished arms, and their father greeted them with tears of love, and named his first twin birthed as Cathian and Gabryl …”

  Absolute silence descended into the small chamber.

  Chapter 39

  Perception tells the true tale, and yet it results in tales as varied as there are stars

  ~ Awl ~

  Petunya

  Stalk

  Hall of the Grunway

  DESPITE A COMMUNICATION from Belun that the daetal had been sent on their way, both platinum bars and Arli’s amulet laid awaiting multiple manufacture.

  According to the Centuar, the plan remained in place. Or they would need the amulets for something else in the present saga. At this point it served to hedge all bets.

  Thus, Jimini gave the word. Glancing at Kila as the Grunway sorcerers virtually fell over themselves to commence the painstaking task ahead of them, she inclined her head.

  Nodding, Kila followed the shapeshifter into the central courtyard where Jala sat on the fountain’s stone wall. The three women met up, and wandered through to the canal the forge used as water supply. There, under a tree bare and old, they looked at each other.

  “Something has altered in the greater spaces,” Kila ventured first.

  Jimini immediately agreed. “It began when Tianoman Valla appeared on Pendulim.”

  The two Kaval women eyed each other, until Jala chose to play devil’s advocate. “Both of you are skirting around the real issue. Considering I am not part of your future sentinel duties in those greater spaces, tell me. I suggest to you that I am the listener you need in order to hear yourselves.”

  For long eternal minutes no one said a word, and then Jimini released an explosive breath. “Chaim summoned Torrullin and that has changed bloody everything.”

  Jala did not even pretend to understand what that meant. She was simply the receptacle on behalf of the women with her. She nodded upon hearing Jimini’s statement, and shifted her attention to Kila, lifting one eyebrow slightly to encourage the woman to
speak.

  Smirking, completely aware of the Jala’s ploy, Kila faced Jimini. “That started it, but why? Jimini, calling to someone who can’t answer shouldn’t have such an impact.”

  Snorting, Jimini found a place to sit under the tree. “You did not know Torrullin.”

  Frowning, Kila hunkered. “Fine, so he was Elixir …”

  “Is,” Jimini snapped. “Nothing can change what he is, not even eternal absence.”

  Blinking, Kila carefully sat on the gravelly earth beneath the tree. “You sound much like a woman in …” Her eyes rounded. “Bugger. You loved Torrullin.”

  “Still do.”

  Sighing, Jala moved to the tree and took a seat at its base, leaning against the rough bark. “How you feel about this man isn’t the real issue, though.”

  Shoving her hands under her armpits, Jimini murmured, “His summoning has created waves. So much so, folk from all over went to Eurue to check if the whisper of this rumour was potentially true.” Jimini grimaced. “And what did they find? A Valleur host. Torrullin’s people. I tell you now, despite Chaim, Krestin and Tian Valla easing minds and denying such an event, the very fact that Valleur are on Eurue will upset many.”

  “New rumours will surface,” Kila understood.

  “And most will regard it as a sign of his impending return, and whispers will become ever louder. Folk will start placing importance on the most obscure events, claiming them as more proof of him coming back to Reaume.” When Jala opened her mouth to speak, Jimini shook her head. “Torrullin is a force of nature. He is Chaos. I tell you now, even with a whiff of a rumour, certain folk will take the kind of action that will dump us into frenetic action. The Kaval will be hard pressed to put out all the fires.”

  Kila pursed her lips, but did not add to that.

  Jala did. “Forgive me, but that doesn’t make sense. Surely the warmonger types will retreat further into their shadows if they suspect his return, whether it happens or not?”