Eurue- The Forgotten World

by Elaina J Davidson

  “Until she lost your child.”

  Vian glared at Tristan. “Who is the seer among you?”

  “Alusin,” Savier snapped.

  Deflating, the man shifted to stare into the flames. “Until she miscarried, yes. Her grief overwhelmed her. It overtook me as well and I thus realised her madness almost too late. I put her in the highest turret and spelled the place.”

  “Alusin says rampant sorcery led to the miscarriage. She blamed you.” Tristan ignored Savier’s surprise; they had not yet had an opportunity to talk about new developments.

  “She did indeed, but the sorcery was hers.”

  “Which intensified her rage,” Tristan murmured. “Why do you need our help now?”

  Without looking at either of the men, Vian said, “Gabryl is free at last and she felt it. She summons him to free her in turn, but she will use him, she will destroy him, and when he is a husk, of her making, her rage will know no bounds.” He did look at them then. “I need Gabryl to come, but I need him prepared, and he must be armoured against her influence. I hope he is able to free her, not only from prison, but from what has bowed her true soul. I can no longer reach her. When I understood her intentions, I too encouraged her summoning, knowing it would bring aid - Kaval aid - because I can no longer do it alone.”

  Lacing his fingers together, Tristan stated, “This latest manipulation caught you off guard, and thus you came to us directly. Know that Gabryl is not unaware of her state of mind, but he also foolishly hopes for the best outcome. He misses his sister. He will go to her, have no doubt, and now we must prepare him. Alexander Diluvan will be with him.”

  Vian stared into the flames again. “Perhaps her father’s presence will give her pause, yes.”

  “Alusin and I will be there also.”

  The Wulvyn jerked upright. “I cannot guarantee your safety. You are Kaval.”

  “We enter as individuals; you have my words on that. Whatever we find under your dome remains your business, and I swear to that also.”

  The man stared at him, his eyes unmoving but probing. Eventually he said, “Very well.”

  “I am going, too,” Savier stated. “That is five of us to reason with her. It is also five of us able to bind her anew should the need arise.”

  Closing his eyes, Vian whispered, “Agreed.”

  “How long can you hold her?” Tristan asked.

  “Five days at best.”

  “Five days to prepare Gabryl. Let us hope it is sufficient.” Tristan rose decisively. “Where do you suggest we meet?”

  Vian got to his feet. “Only the five of you, correct? If soldiers accompany you, I cannot prevent what will happen.”

  “Agreed.”

  “There is a small town north of the caldera. I will meet you at the inn on the fifth day, as night falls for Lintusillem.”

  “Until then.” Tristan extended his arm and the Wulvyn stepped into it.

  They gripped hard, again reading each other, until Vian released. “Until then.”

  He immediately vanished.

  Savier said, “We need an unassailable binding.”

  “I agree.” Tristan thought there was too much agreeing going on; it opened the way to utter change.

  Chapter 47

  Memory is a battle also, sometimes a bloody war

  ~ Awl ~

  Grinwallin

  The Plateau

  “NO,” TEIGHLAR GROWLED. “If there are close to five hundred immortal sorcerers there, we need soldiers.”

  “And they will probably all die,” Alusin said.

  The argument went back and forth without solution, and then Tristan appeared. He took one look at the Emperor, and sat, launching into explanations without giving the man opportunity to insert a word.

  At the end of it, even Alusin gaped at Tristan. “We simply trust all this?”

  Teighlar waved a hand. “What he said. Are you mad?”

  Gabryl murmured, “Tristan is right.”

  Tristan nodded. “You are coming with me, Gabryl. Alusin, Savier has a binding plan; speak to him. Emperor, please ask your soldiers to stand down.”

  Alusin folded his arms. “Gabryl goes with you? Where to exactly?”

  Again Teighlar gestured. “What he said.”

  “We are going to Akhavar for the Elixir chant. It will protect him.”

  This time Gabryl gaped. “That is a dangerous precedent you set there. What if I prove unworthy?”

  “Then you die.”

  Teighlar surged to his feet. “Now wait just a fucking minute …”

  Clambering more slowly to footing, Tristan said, “I realised something today, my lord. Gabryl is the sole unmarked soul here. I believe the Elixir chant is more than safe with him.”

  Teighlar backed down, and then he smiled. “Thank you.”

  Alusin said not a word, but the look in his eyes was an entirely different matter.

  “Give me a few minutes,” Tristan murmured to Gabryl. “Walk with me, Alusin?”

  Grinwallin Forest

  TRISTAN LED THE Kemir left of the great stairway, into the ancient forest. Striding along the track Teighlar’s horses blazed, he did not speak. He did not even check if Alusin followed.

  After a fair climb, he neared the small postern gate Torrullin used in the past to head for the chasm to the north. There he did stop; Alusin was directly behind him. He had wanted to view the chasm, but that now felt akin to manipulation, and thus he faced the man in a small clearing.

  “Akhavar was something I believed we would do together when you were ready for your family,” Alusin said, his tone without inflection.

  Tristan nodded. That was what he thought the issue was. “I am aware, but much has changed, including the fact that Tian came to me.”

  Alusin gripped him behind his neck. “I do not need excuses and I actually do not care whether Akhavar is on the itinerary or not. I am concerned about the distance developing between us.”

  Lifting his hands, he plunged them into silky whiteness. “Alusin, there is no distance. There is merely the restraint I place on myself in order to see this done. Every moment I fight myself, because I am weary of waiting now that my heart is engaged.”

  The Kemir inhaled the kind of breath to remove all life from the spaces and it delved into Tristan’s marrow. The kiss that ensued almost melted flesh from bone. Yes, indeed, his heart had engaged. Everything had now engaged.

  Groaning, Alusin disentangled from the embrace. “Now I cannot think.”

  “Savier first, then babysit the Emperor,” Tristan laughed, if unsteadily.

  “Right. Savier.” Alusin stared at him, and then hauled him in. “In a minute or two.”

  Akhavar

  Linard

  THE MOUNTAIN CITY thrived. Linard was now inhabited, and happy laughter rang along stone passages. Given that Akhavar spent ages in forgotten sterility, it was an utter miracle to know the Valleur First World as reclaimed.

  By comparison, the Throne-room was empty but for guards in the shadows. Tianoman, Vallorin of the Valleur, awaited them on the ebony dais before his Throne.

  “My Lord Vallorin.” Tristan halted and bowed.

  Gabryl did the same, but when he straightened his gaze went everywhere. The Throne-room was inspiring indeed, from dressed walls shedding cool in Akhavar’s heat, to the intricate trelliswork overhead where creepers and bright birds vied for supremacy.

  Tristan faced Tianoman directly.

  “Welcome home, Tristan Skyler Valla,” Tianoman said formally, and then grinned. “Great to see you here, cousin.”

  “Likewise.” Smiling, Tristan stepped onto the ebony expanse that was the dais and the two men embraced.

  “Right, so I had to tell Aislinn in no uncertain terms to stay away, but if …”

  “I want to see her too,” Tristan chuckled. “When this is done, I’ll pop in.”

  Tianoman laughed. “You probably just saved my marriage.” He sobered then. “Are you sure about this?”

/>   “Are you?”

  “The Elixir chant is universal in scope; I have no problem sharing it … ah, I see. You want to gift him the Danae protection also. And you told no one, knowing it makes him pretty damn powerful.”

  Lifting a shoulder, Tristan signified his agreement.

  Gabryl, meanwhile, had focused on them, hearing that. “Truly? The All?”

  Tianoman frowned. “The All? What do you mean by that?”

  “That is what everyone else knows it as. When the Knowing, which is Elixir, is joined with the Elemental, which is Alhazen, it is the All. This is the main reason most folk out there leave the Valleur alone now.”

  Tristan blinked, and chortled a moment later. “That will amuse Torrullin no end!”

  “And piss him off,” Tianoman muttered.

  Tristan doubled over. “Yes!”

  Gabryl, looking from one to the other, bowed. “I am honoured by your trust. I swear to earn it.”

  Shaking his head ruefully, Tianoman murmured, “Now I want to give it to him.”

  Snorting more laughter, Tristan said, “He has that thing, you know? When you understand him, you bloody like him, right?”

  Grinning, Tianoman nodded. “Come, Gabryl. I need to deputise you for the Throne.”

  The Diluvan did not move, other than for pale blue eyes showing an ever more remarkable degree of surrounding white. “I am to sit on the Throne?” He flicked that wary gaze to the golden seat. “I have heard it kills.”

  “Which is why I will give you permission.”

  Gabryl looked at Tristan. “Have you sat on it?”

  “Me? No. Are you mad?”

  Gabryl lifted a hand. “But I must? Are you mad?”

  This time Tianoman nearly floored himself as mirth overcame him. Flapping his hands, he sat on the edge of the dais. “I have not seen this reaction in a long time,” he laughed. “It’s not only the All that keeps folk away, is it?”

  Gabryl sombrely shook his head.

  “Well, have no fear. Sabian once sat, did you know? He survived it, and it does mean the seat is already aware of connections we only now understand.” Tianoman calmly eyed the Diluvan. “You passed the Dome test. You will pass this one.”

  “Fine.”

  Getting to his feet, with his eyes still amused but his tone serious, Tianoman said, “Give me your hands. When I let go, approach the chair.”

  Inhaling, Gabryl placed his hand in the Vallorin’s. Nothing happened; no frisson, not even a faint tremble of difference.

  Tianoman released and gestured to the Throne.

  Swallowing, Gabryl immediately strode to it - before fear overwhelmed him, no doubt - turned and sat stiffly, hands clasped tightly upon his lap.

  “No, Gabryl. Place your hands on the armrests.”

  Releasing a pent-up breath, the Diluvan did so.

  Mere moments later he abruptly relaxed, as if his body had lost muscle function, and he coiled into the back of the golden seat, fingers splayed upon the rounded armrests.

  “And there it is,” Tianoman murmured. “The utter addiction that is the Valleur Throne.”

  “Even without Tarlinn’s habitation?” Tristan whispered, watching Gabryl.

  “Yes,” Tianoman murmured.

  Sighing volubly, this one all about regret, Gabryl straightened and slid from the Throne’s embrace. He stepped away reluctantly.

  “Now it will kill you,” Tianoman stated.

  Shaking himself, Gabryl swiftly moved away. He approached Tristan and presented his wrist. “It said you need to touch.”

  Eyes silvering slightly, Tristan placed two fingers on the man’s wrist. “It is inside you now, yes. Well done.”

  Gabryl stared at him and then shifted his gaze to the light pouring in through the massive arch leading to the ledge outside. “Do you mind if I ...?” Words failed him.

  “With my blessing. Take all the time you need.” Tianoman gestured at a guard. “He will watch over you. This is not mistrust; this is knowing you need to come to terms with what just happened and we do not wish for you to fall off that edge in absentmindedness.”

  Nodding vigorously, Gabryl strode away. The guard shadowed him.

  “Aislinn?” Tristan suggested.

  “Yes,” Tianoman smiled, and led the way.

  IN THE ROYAL suite, Aislinn laid out cutlery when they entered. She lifted her head and a huge smiled blossomed on her face.

  Golden curls flying, she ran forward. “Tristan!” Then she was in his arms, hugging him. “I’m so happy to see you. Too long, buddy. Don’t wait so long again.” Giving him an extra squeeze, she released him, still smiling.

  “I promise,” Tristan laughed. “It is good to see you and to be here.”

  “Can you stay? I’ll organise dinner …”

  He took her hands in his and kissed them lightly. “I cannot, not this time.”

  “That sounds as if there will be a next time soon.”

  “Soon, I promise. A huge family affair.”

  “And you’ll bring Alusin?” She eyed him.

  “I will,” he laughed.

  “Good,” she whispered and laid a hand on his cheek. “Then you are as healed inside as you are outside.”

  “I am,” he murmured, and placed a kiss on her cheek. “And now I need to go, before Alusin strangles his brother.” Laughing to show he was joking, he moved away.

  Tianoman winked at his wife, and led the way back to the Throne-room and from there to the ledge.

  “You’re still wary of too much family,” Tianoman murmured as they walked.

  “It’s not that; it’s this place.”

  “Caballa?”

  “In a way. I have made peace with her passing, but … memories, you know? And not just about her.”

  “Yes, me too. I sometimes still expect to see Torrullin striding in, all focused, all in the black, or Elianas trying so hard to avoid people, even Sabian hoisting a book or two. Quilla … I miss the birdman also.”

  “Exactly.”

  Tianoman abruptly halted when they stepped outside. Gabryl paced introspectively a distance way. “Teighlar gifted Torrullin the Luvan stones. Has that Emperor mentioned hearing anything?”

  The Luvan stones were able to broadcast across the spaces, whether of realms or time.

  “I never asked,” Tristan muttered. “He wouldn’t tell unless I ask. Ha. I’ll put the question to him, have no doubt.”

  Nodding, Tianoman called to Gabryl.

  Chapter 48

  If you harm even the tiniest field mouse in my domain, I swear to permanently and painfully remove every hair on your body.

  ~ King Wesley to his court jester

  Kingly Quirks – a novel ~

  SAGES WOULD SAGELY claim that one never harked to one strategy. Always be prepared for the unexpected. Every plan could and often did go awry.

  They were correct, of course.

  When Tristan returned to Grinwallin with Gabryl, everything changed.

  The alteration did not occur in Grinwallin. It had nothing to do with Akhavar. The Dome itself did not play a role. Petunya … where was Petunya? The world of farms and farmers influenced naught.

  With the commencement of Gabryl’s manipulation from his chateau on Frond, the play had been about Eurue. As he sought to awaken the Kemir to ancient misdeeds, thus was his twin sister of like mind.

  It was then about Eurue, forgotten world; it remained about Eurue now.

  Alusin and Savier, conferring about other matters at the palace in Kemirin, having discussed the potential binding, understood fate had finally caught up with their world when gigantic shudders rocked the planet, and day became as night.

  Eurue

  FEROCIOUS WINDS TORE into every space, uprooting trees and causing massive rockslides. Gigantic waves beat the coasts, drowning farmland and annihilating villages and villagers. Fire erupted spontaneously in dry regions and wetlands spouted geysers of sulphurous substances, burning fish and fowl, shrivelling all vegetation.


  Alusin screamed through the spaces and prayed to all gods that Tristan heard him.

  Savier barked commands. His palace staff and councillors instantly evacuated the building for the open gardens.

  Around them, walls cracked and crumbled, the floor shifted, and objects crashed down, books and scrolls flew and furniture slid in oddly random directions.

  Eurue had never suffered an earthquake like it.

  By the thousand, people died. Hundreds of thousands of animals succumbed; fish in the depths, birds in the air, and anything that walked or slithered upon the earth.

  It was Judgement Day for Eurue.

  Grinwallin

  TRISTAN!

  His head jerked up, hearing that summons. His heart thundered loud as a kettledrum in his chest when, beside him, Gabryl swung around as if seeking an enemy and abruptly had his Aleru Orb to hand, clutching it with white fingers.

  “What the hell?” Teighlar blurted, watching them.

  “Eurue,” Tristan breathed, massaging his heart.

  “Cathian,” Gabryl blurted.

  “Where are we needed? Focus, both of you! Where are we needed?”

  “Everywhere,” Tristan gargled. “The entire world is in danger.” Squaring his shoulders, he said, “Alusin went to Savier …”

  “Kemirin has fallen,” Gabryl intoned. Both hands now clenched around the shifting orb.

  “Fortress,” Tristan snapped, suddenly decisive. “It will hold and Alusin will go there.” Without further explanation, he vacated the space he inhabited in Grinwallin.

  Swearing foully, Teighlar gripped Gabryl’s shoulder. “Son, focus on me. I need you to lead me to this fortress.”

  Blinking, Gabryl focused. He trembled as if in fever, his eyes bright and strange. “Cathian remains in her turret, but the tower is no longer on Lintusillem, and the Wulvyn dome went with her.”