by Nelson, J P
Hoscoe turned back to his wall and said, “As to putting me down, you will understand when the time comes.”
Before I could gather my thoughts to speak, he said, “Come here,” pointing to a location on the map he began to explain, “we are here … here is Gevard … and here is Dahruban.”
As I observed his map I was in awe. Hoscoe had painted a map of the whole world of Orucean. Momma had made those magical maps in the dirt for me, but this was good. The attention to detail was stunning.
It felt to me as if I had traveled far over the course of my life, but just on the Aeshean side of our continent alone, I had seen a very tiny part of my world. From the most eastern point of Vedoa, to the eastern boarders of the Hoshael Mountains was about six thousand miles. From side to side were three deserts, two Great Plains, two freshwater seas, a salt water sea, five major river systems, three mountain ranges … Shael’s!
From the east lay the Gohbashai Mountains, then the Kohntia’s, then the Sahrjiun’s, and down below … around where we were … the Sahrjiun and Kohntia ranges met to form the Tio’Pashon range and right in the cradle was Keoghnariu. Thousands of miles to the north was the Kohnarahs Bay region, where U’Lahna was. Just seeing it made a lump form in my throat.
Would I ever get to see her? Again, I wondered what she would be like. Would she want to know me?
West of the Hoshael’s was another great mountain range, the Dsh’Tharr. The map west of that, however, was vague and there was little more than an outline. But it showed a land mass over half again the breadth of Aeshea from the eastern edge of the Hoshael’s, to the extreme western coast. Overall, The land mass of the super-continent must be over nine thousand miles wide and touched all four of Orucean’s oceans.
I was studying that western land mass and Hoscoe followed my direction of vision. As if knowing my question he said, “The great Nor’Gael, nobody has ever returned from exploring there. Elvin lore has it written off as a vast waste land”
“How do you even know the outline, then? Is it a guess?”
“I have seen maps, maps drawn by those who supposedly knew.”
I glanced quickly at Hoscoe and with anticipation asked, “You’ve been to the library at Ch’Hahnju?” More specifically, I was asking if he had been to the Great Elvin Citadel at Ch’Hahnju Mountains. It was the first elvin holding, and said to be the last pure culture left in Aeshea.
Shaking his head, he replied, “No.” With some reserved irritation he added, “They see nobody, help no one. Those idiots Sha’Rhunza, Ahl’Tohku, Fahlmazhar, Ehx’Hual and all that lot are just waiting for human kind to kill itself out. Reality has no part in their reasoning.”
“Then where?”
With a slanting glance from his eye, and characteristic grind of his teeth, Hoscoe pointed.
From tales of my momma and the stigma she had put on the place, I inhaled through my teeth, “The Vale of Thahndurai.”
Hoscoe nodded slowly, “Home of the Dsh’Tharr Elves, sometimes called Thunder Valley.”
Reluctantly excited, I asked, “You’ve been to Cahf Nl’Ouan, the cave of knowledge? Did you see … did you see the ruin?”
“Yes. But anything movable has been taken, some to the Tomb of Shihnuthai. But the wall paintings are still there. Maps, murals, portraits …” He paused, with intent. I looked over at him. Hoscoe gave me a sly look and added, “I saw him.”
“Him, who?”
With a glint in his eye and humor in his voice, he said, “Oshang.”
I looked back at the map and chewed my own jaw. We had talked about my feelings toward Oshang before. He had left his people, deserted them to be destroyed and chased to Zaeghun’s Lair and back. His responsibility was …
“Things are not always what they seem, Mehio.”
Suddenly I asked, “How did you get there?”
“Th’Khai took me.”
Incredulously I said, “I thought he was a cripple.”
Hoscoe laughed, “Timber Wolf, if you want to do something bad enough … you will find a way.
“The ruins are not what you might think. Actually, there is no structural decay or compromise. It is a ruin of a culture. Th’Khai said something dark still lives in the castle. We had to be most careful just to get into the valley. But such a castle was beautiful to see, so different from anything I have seen before or since. Built right out of the rock, it was, and many kinds of material were part of the building; onyx, emerald, jasper, jade, crystal … but not like Stone Bridge Citadel. Oh, no. It was shaped by the power of Druids, impregnable from the outside. Th’Khai says it was taken from within, from a means totally unexpected.”
It didn’t make me feel any better about Oshang.
“I think you are too harsh on your ancestor.” Hoscoe said, as if reading my mind. “When you are a leader of so many, you must make choices. They are not always pleasant, and they are not always the best. But as one who has led thousands, I tell you this … I believe he made what he felt was the best choice for his purpose.”
Hoscoe let that settle on my mind and continued, “We do not have all of the facts. And before you make a decision, a good leader always wants all of the facts. You may not always get them, but it is important that you try.”
He pointed to where the Dsh’Tharr Mountains seemed to descend below the surface and remerge to the south into the Dsh’Nyarr range, “We traveled here, as well. We found a stone hand holding an elvin sword, the Scared Rock, and several long abandoned dwellings of houses built into the high up cliffs.” He shrugged, “But no sign of where Oshang and his forces may have been attacked, or anything comparable.”
We both glanced at each other. Like him or not, it would be interesting to know what really happened.
Below Aeshea, Hoscoe had drawn in a beautiful representation of Rok’Shutai. Off of the southeast corner of Aeshea were the Kadmus Isles, then the smaller continent of Lh’Gohria. Way off to the east, the desert continent of Fn’Jaht. There was more, but that was the jist of it. Cities, lakes, points of battle, so much detail.
I ran my fingers gingerly across the map. “So this is what you wanted to show me? Hoscoe, this is nice.”
He smiled, “Let us get some coffee.”
___________________________
Sitting on the edge of my chair, sipping on a three-quarter empty cup of coffee, I listened and watched intently as Hoscoe delivered his study and speculations to me. His right hand was widely animated as his left kept the ever-present mug level and non-splashing.
“Listen,” he began, “ever since there have been two or more individuals in one local, there have been disagreements, arguments, and ultimately battles and wars. We hear about it more often now, because there is a much greater population. But the ratio per capita for conflict is about the same.
“When you travel much, you see and hear of more conflict. If you stay in one place, which the greater percentage of persons do, you see it occasionally to rare, and hear of it in far off places when you associate in gathering.
“Living here, it would seem the cognobin occupation is a matter of potential conquestidorial threat. But I think that is looking at the matter from the wrong perspective. Indeed, I do not believe the cognobins care about the people of Keoghnariu, except as a possible source of food. Nor do I think they care about the mines, any of them.”
He walked over to the original map and showed me, “Now here, here, and here …” he pointed to various regions on the map, none with any particular pattern, “… are the locations where the cognobins have emerged. And then they stopped, for the most part, when Meidra disappeared. But cognobin altercations have still occurred, mostly with what is left of the Tiskites, that lizardly man-like species from the jungles. Not that that is a bad thing, of course. But, still.
“It is as if the cognobins have had no direction. Nor have they shown interest in the old Minotaur ruins, here, in the eastern mountain ridge.” He looked at his map, “It seems they are more congregated here, around th
ese pyramids to the south.”
Stepping back, it was as if he was admiring his handiwork. “It would appear,” he speculated, “from the information we have, that they are staying away from the Kalki-Shurma and Mhn’O’Quai Jungle interiors.” He added as if the thought just occurred to him, “Which may indicate they fear the Lihtosax, and that could be useful.”
I asked, “Where do Xiahstoi and Wihlabahk fit in?”
Lost in thought, Hoscoe then answered, “I do not believe Xiahstoi is going to be a factor. As to Wihlabahk, we will have to deal with that bird when it shows itself.”
Then Hoscoe turned back to the world map, and looked at me with an almost giddy smile, “But let us look at things from this perspective.” He started pointing at different locations and talked of battles, uprisings, close groupings of political murders and overthrows with punctual details, all of these things which had gone on in the last ten or twelve years or so.
As I listened and watched, I was clearly fascinated, but didn’t see how it all came together. As he went on, however, I began to see a pattern emerge. Like he had said, it wasn’t something you might think about living in any particular location. But if you looked at it as we were, now …
Down in the Southern Sahrjiun regions, Phalquas had been preaching up a storm that he was on parallel with all the gods and deserved worship in his own right. Those who stood with him, he preached, would reap the benefits when he gained absolute power. In the meantime, he expected everyone to give up their lands and possessions for his use and glory. The scary thing was that people had been falling for him for years, and all he did was talk.
Contending with the Phalquasites for regional territory was Marduk and the orgs he was trying to assemble into one nation. If he succeeded, Hoscoe assured, Marduk would have the strength of over 10,000 seasoned org warriors.
Descending from the forbidden regions of the Hoshael Mountains was a bloody, witchcraft and ancestor worshiping horde of barbarians who simply called themselves, Rohoas Dahrnacus, interpreted as Red Dragon Cult. They were systematically conquering the whole of the Genoal Plains country and creeping eastward.
For years, the Eayahnite faith had been permeating the ancient lands of Shudoquar, and trying to get a priest into the political hierarchy.
Way up in the frozen lands, with their patches of green, the realm of Val’Nahahl had been going through troubled times. The followers of Loki had overthrown the Temple of Odin, and now had a Grand Chief who claimed to have taken possession of Thor’s Hammer.
In the Death Forest on the western side of the Gohbashai, a scary witch doctor named Yoh-yok-tan-xio was said to be able to raise the dead to do his bidding, and was talking of a Black Night in which all the world would become his domain.
And then drop back down to Keoghnariu with our cognobins who were once run, or at least influenced, by Meidra. If you looked at the movements and projected movements of all of these groups, there were two things in common; they all involved some form of religious support or theme, and they were all starting to look like spokes in a giant wheel. And the hub of that wheel? Either the easternmost coast of the Phabeon Sea, or someplace in the central Kohntia Mountains.
“But why?” I asked when Hoscoe took a long drinking break from his mug.
“That’s just the thing.” He offered me to join him to refresh our cups. “The positioning indicates various forces moving with intent to a similar goal. The distance, however, indicates most are too far apart to communicate, therefore alleviating the assumption that they are moving in concert. Furthermore, none of their faith statutes are particularly agreeable.”
I reclaimed my chair, and he took one and sat across from me.
Savoring a sip of his coffee, Hoscoe then casually said, “Kohrinju Tómi.”
“Huh?” I said. “That’s an old elvin music term. In times past, teachers of music would take several children to separate places, each were taught to play their own song, each song sounding like a separate piece of music. But when they were all played together at the direction of a master, they made a beautiful harmonious arrangement. It taught the students …”
“… that such things which may seem unrelated and significantly separate, may oft-times be integral parts of the same composition.” Hoscoe smiled and took another sip of coffee, which he savored for long time as we sat there without word.
Hoscoe then offered, “Th’Khai once discussed what he called the Kohrinju Principle. He believed there was once a tendril, a web of connection …” he waved his mug around trying to grasp the right words, “… which not only tied various places on Orucean together, but other worlds as well.”
Pushing his mug toward me to emphasize a point, Hoscoe continued, “But here is the kicker, he believed events here, were affecting events …” he waved his empty hand up toward the heavens, “… out there, and vice versa. Only he could not prove it.”
I savored my own coffee, then I asked, “What do you think? You knew him well, traveled and studied with him. Was he crazy?”
Hoscoe thought about it, tilted his head, and I got the idea he wasn’t sure, in spite of the fact Th’Khai was his teacher. Hoscoe had learned a lot from him, for sure, but his own people had cast him out. Of course, those were the same people who didn’t try to rescue my momma. I still had problems with that, even if they thought she was dead, I would think they could have looked to make sure, whatever.
Slightly changing the subject, Hoscoe said, “There is a closely guarded prophecy at Ch’Hahnju. The Prime Minister, Sha’Rhunza, boasts that elves are in no way mentioned, but the word is that all men will die by fire and the world torn asunder, by which only a marginal few will survive. This is supposed to occur during the Fourth World Wide War. She refuses to let the document be seen, but the ruling circle is dogmatic about its existence and antiquity. They insist the few refers to Elvin-Kind.
“Th’Khai brushed it off as rubbish, but I have been wondering of late …” Hoscoe pulled on his goatee, and then mused, “If you count the Dragon Wars, which were over before the elves even arrived, there have been four wars to span the known world …” he tilted his head, “… technically. And this is the position for which Th’Khai argued.
“But … if one wishes to be truly technical … the Dragon War had nothing to do with the time of elves, humans and d’warvec. From 1712-1714 ED was the Dorhune-D’Rhoaw War, which didn’t physically cover the globe, but involved all peoples in existence at that time. Hence, it could be categorized as a World War.
“From 3172-3188 ED was the Kl’Duryq War, which did indeed span the globe.
“But from 4190-4316 ED was yet another war which spanned the globe, but from beneath the surface, and we did not see it.”
Now, this I knew nothing about. I leaned even more forward, as if that would help me hear better.
“The Aquars ...” Hoscoe said, as if the word explained everything.
I scrunched my forehead, I didn’t get it.
“The Aquatic Wars, Aquars.” He seemed to be exasperated and continued, “There were at one time, one hundred and nineteen established aquatic cultures. Some of these had developed devices for propulsion and they had their own expression of magical usage.
“The Scepter of Neptune was said to have been found in the saltwater Cave of Delphi, and they all but wiped themselves out to claim right to possess the scepter. This was also the period in history with the greatest number of reported sea serpent and monster sightings. These were not beasts scavenging the oceans, they were creatures used for the sake of war.
“Some of the remnants of these cultures are said to still survive, and unions of Aquastikarrs with terrain dwellers are said to have resulted in those with the genes for sorcery. “
Holding up my hands I said, “Wait, wait, wait a minute. A quasitikik- what?”
“Aquastikarrs. Someone akin to a wizard, but who does not prepare spells from books and such. According to Th’Khai, wizards can tap into something called the Eldoritch Field a
nd shape this energy through sounds, components and specialized hand gestures. These are so refined and sophisticated; books are needed to record patterns of use, components needed, and so on. Much like your physical training, the more they practice and study, the more Eldoritch energy they can contain and harness at a given time, but each person has an inborn maximum potential.”
I interrupted, politely of course, but still, “I thought sorcery, wizardry, mage work … I thought it was all the same thing.”
Hoscoe raised his eyebrows in an implied warning, “Do not tell one of them that. Each believes the other to be an inferior practitioner. Again, according to Th’Khai, they tap into the same Eldoritch field, but in different ways. The Aquastikarr can do it at will, but they must learn specific manifestations through grueling hours of practice, and they are not nearly as versatile as the wizard. It is almost like having a talent you must cultivate, but the latent capability is there from birth. Ultimately, their body is a living conduit into the Eldoritch field, but with limits.
“A wizard, however, must also be born with a certain gene enabling the ability to do what he or she does, but theirs is more of a mental and physical discipline. To the observer, however, one might as well be the other. So the terms are interchanged from lack of knowledge, or consideration.”
Nodding, I got the picture, sort of. I wished I could have met Th’Khai. He sounded like someone who really knew his history. I had millions of questions I would have liked to ask him. Well, maybe not millions, but a lot.
“So, back to the subject at hand, this war could be counted, or not, as one of the Four Wars. It would depend on who was making the determination, which is a dominant problem with interpreting prophecy.
“Whatever the case, it is my belief we are headed into a major conflict, perhaps of world wide nature. I cannot say, I have had access to knowledge aside from Aeshea, not in the last several years.” With that, he sat back in his chair and carefully sipped his coffee.