Meone deposited the book on her small dining table with a thump, and everybody pored over it, intensely curious to see what it said.
The cover was of leather and embossed with The Brotherhood’s mark and title, Archmage – Volume 1 of 1.
Meone turned the cover and exposed a brightly coloured, handwritten contents page. The edges were decorated with colourful imagery and scrollwork.
The contents list ran alphabetically, and four pairs of eyes scanned each entry eagerly for a clue as to how to speak with former archmages who had passed on.
Four pages in and the entry was spotted. Commune with the spirit realm, How to. Page 767. Meone carefully turned page after page until she found the required section, and then paraphrased the contents.
‘Soliath Wulf, the first archmage, left the physical realm suddenly with no successor, and it became the responsibility of the then curator, Mira, to ascertain the wishes of the archmage since no will or instructions for running the temple had been given. She concluded that she would need to commune with the dead.’ Meone scanned more text. ‘Mira apparently scoured every known text seeking an answer and one night in a dream the answer was revealed. One must hold in one’s possession something personal belonging to the archmage. A talisman, and artefact, or something that is known to have belonged to the deceased. From there one merely needs to concentrate on seeking an audience with the departed, and you shall be transported forthwith.’
‘That sounds awfully like the Key of Kalor,’ Aniol declared.
Coinin nodded. ‘Indeed, but it’s not the key in this instance. I possess that which belonged to the archmage.’ He withdrew from around his neck the Rose of Cerathil. It glinted in the firelight and knew instantly that he had his answer. ‘The Rose is the key.’
‘Are you going to do this now?’ Draken asked.
‘There is no time like the present. I would ask that you stand back. Last time was a bit tumultuous.’
Aniol, Meone and Draken did as he asked and stood beside the far wall and waited.
Coinin gripped the Rose in his left hand and closed his eyes. He concentrated on his task at hand. I wish to commune with Archmage Orodor. After a minute of deep concentration, he looked up at the others. ‘It’s not working.’
‘We can see that,’ Draken replied. ‘What is wrong?’
Coinin frowned. ‘I don’t know. It is almost as if Orodor is not available. It felt as if I was knocking on the door of an empty room and expecting a response.’
Meone returned to the book on the table. ‘Perhaps we are doing it wrong.’ She studied the text again, this time checking further down the page, where a shorter section had remained unread. ‘I think I know what is wrong.’
Coinin and the others looked at her expectantly.
‘What can you tell me about this spirit realm?’ Meone asked.
Coinin thought back to his previous conversation with Orodor. ‘It’s where archmages go to decide if they wish to move on to the heavens or stay awhile to watch over Er’ath, a kind of go-between to the Gods.’
Meone nodded thoughtfully. ‘What if we are knocking on the wrong door? What if Orodor has moved on to be replaced by another?’
Coinin could have hugged Meone at that moment. ‘Of course, Menin would have replaced him in that realm.’
‘You have indeed been knocking on the wrong door,’ Aniol agreed.
‘Thank you, Meone.’ Coinin smiled. ‘Please stand back and I shall try this again.’
He waited while the others resumed their former positions and then spent several moments preparing himself before he once more gripped the Rose of Cerathil tight. Almost immediately, and to his surprise at the ease, a sound hung in the air and resembled a hum, quiet at first, but then gradually grew louder. A bright white light appeared ahead of him and formed a ball of intense brilliance. A rush of air and the room seemed to fold in on itself to form a tunnel of swirling luminescence. Without warning, Coinin was sucked into the vortex headfirst. Coinin felt dizzy as he whirled around the tunnel of light, his body contorted and elongated to unimaginable proportions as it had done on the first occasion this had happened to him. The sensation, however, did not last long before he was spat from the vortex to land with a bump onto soft, luscious green grass.
On this occasion, he did not evacuate his stomach contents, not because it was empty anyway, but because he had been prepared mentally for the journey.
The tranquillity of the scene overwhelmed him, and an inner peace permeated his very being. As before, a sweet smell of honey seemed to hang in the air and in the distance songbirds uttered a multitude of morning calls.
He turned and saw her then, sat cross-legged on the edge of a cliff overlooking a brilliant blue sea. Laliala Menin, her dazzling white cloak fluttering in a breeze. He was happy to see that, like Orodor, her shadow had acquired a set of wings, befitting her station. Yet in the physicality, no such appendage existed.
He wandered over to Menin cautiously, feeling it rude to interrupt what was clearly a meditation phase. He quietly sat down next to her and waited, enjoying the peace. He jumped, however, when Menin spoke.
‘I’ve been waiting for you, and I want to apologise.’
Coinin began to shake his head. ‘There is no need, I –’
‘There is every need, Coinin. You were lied to and manipulated, as was I and all those before me. I did not stand up and refuse to remain a part of the deception. I am therefore as guilty as anyone for keeping the truth from you.’
Coinin pursed his lips. ‘Admittedly, I was deeply hurt to learn the truth, but after consideration, and Aniol’s honesty, I can say hand on heart that I don’t blame you. I understand totally that Er’ath is far greater than me. That’s why I decided to continue and finish this once and for all.’
Menin smiled, and Coinin was again shocked to see that she, like Orodor, was growing younger every second. Not several seconds had passed when Coinin now looked at a girl of sixteen, her hair a fiery red and her face littered with freckles. ‘You are the bravest boy that I have ever known. Selfless and caring.’
‘Laliala, you are beautiful.’
‘I’m trying to compliment you, and you look upon this false beauty. I am still a woman of a certain age inside. My outward appearance may change, but I’m still me.’
‘I don’t think anything could ever change you really.’
‘I hear tell that you do not wish to become archmage.’ Menin looked at him searchingly.
‘What right do I have to declare myself a leader of a world religious order? I am, as you say, a boy. I have little experience, and I was too late to save the temple.’
Menin looked at him sympathetically. ‘I agree, you are too young, but I think something else holds you back.’
Coinin raised a brow and then frowned. ‘I’m not sure what you mean.’
Menin looked him deep in the eyes. ‘I can see it, Coinin. You are in love with Aniol.’
Coinin flustered. ‘I … I, well, that is to say …’ He looked down and played with his hands. ‘It’s true. I have known for a while now. She makes me smile, laugh, and infuriates me like no-one else could.’
‘Then this is a good thing. I should not say this, but you need some hope and happiness in your life. Aniol loves you also. But be warned, she needs some time to come to terms with it and –’
‘Axl, yes, I know.’ Coinin’s heart leapt for joy.
For a few minutes neither said a word, the momentous changes in their lives weighing heavily.
‘It saddens me to look upon the Golden Temple, or its remains, I should say. But, you know, the faith was never about a temple. It is about what is in the heart and the Brother and Sisterhood. It was that feeling of connection, of belonging. Temples can be rebuilt, but nothing will ever break our spirit if we remain united in one cause,’ Menin voiced.
‘Do you really think so?’ Coinin asked, unsure.
‘I know so. You yourself said it. You could have easily walked away from all of th
is and condemned us all to destruction. Instead, you thought of the common interest and decided to continue. Is that not worth celebrating? Does it not show the true meaning of our faith?’
‘Why were Marrok and I chosen?’
Menin grinned. ‘You were selected for the tasks you perform even now, only Soliath changed things slightly to protect Marisa.’
‘I don’t understand.’
Menin bit her lip in thought. ‘You were always destined to become a curator, and Marrok a general. This is written in other works you have not seen. It was Soliath who saw the opportunity to protect your aunt by rewording the prophecy and substituting you and your brother for her.’
Coinin could not quite grasp what it was that she was saying and looked puzzled.
Menin sighed. ‘All that knowledge in your brain and still as dense as White Wolf Forest.’
Coinin laughed. ‘Excuse me?’
‘You’re doing exactly as Aduramis foretold. Your lineage meant you were destined to be a great curator and would help defeat Death, though not be the one to actually do it. That was always down to Marisa.’
Coinin could not help himself and hugged Menin tightly. ‘So it wasn’t all a lie. I am in my rightful place.’
‘Exactly so. You have shown such courage and endurance, exactly the gifts the spirit of the wolf gave you at your initiation. You would never have received such a spirit visit if you were weak and unworthy.’ Menin pushed him off her. ‘Do you mind not crumpling my robe? It’s the only one I have.’
Coinin stood and laughed heartily. A weight had been lifted from his shoulders. All this time he was doing exactly what was foretold for him, and it felt wonderful. Not only that, Aniol was in love with him.
‘Coinin.’ Menin patted the grass beside her. ‘Come and sit down.’
Coinin sat happily next to his mentor and friend.
‘I’m glad to see you in such good spirits, but there is still much to do.’
Coinin’s face grew serious. ‘Lordich?’
‘Indeed. He is the only obstacle preventing access to the Tower of Elyia and the ritual room. Defeat him, and nothing will stop us.’
‘How? I have no army to speak of. We are scattered and do not have a camp.’
‘What is the last thing I had said to you before I left the physical realm?’
Coinin thought back. ‘Go to the elves.’
‘Exactly right.’
‘But what of Marisa? We do not know her whereabouts, nor even if she will turn up on the correct day of the ritual.’
Menin rolled her eyes. ‘Must I spell everything out for you? Go to the elves. She’s with the elves. King Aerëndyl Haldìr has hidden her for these many years.’
‘Draken will be pleased to know that she lives. Orodor told him that she had died.’
Menin dropped her head shamefully. ‘Again, an untruth, for which I am sorry.’
Coinin touched her arm. ‘There is a lot of healing to do, and I will begin with Draken. I know not all he did was of his own doing. Mort may have influenced him.’
‘I am so proud of you. You have shown better fortitude and honesty than all of us.’ A single tear rolled down her face.
‘What is it?’ Coinin asked worriedly.
‘I fear this is the last time that we shall meet. An archmage must be appointed, and if you so readily refuse the position, you will not be rightfully in possession of the Rose.’
Coinin saw immediately that Menin spoke the truth. ‘It saddens me to know that what you say is true and though I will indeed miss you greatly, I do not see myself as an archmage. Curator will do me just fine.’
‘Then, may you be the best curator The Brotherhood has ever had.’ Menin looked up at the sky. ‘The bond is weakening. It is time for you to leave. Never fear, I shall be watching over you.’
Coinin grimaced at the thought of leaving but knew their time had come to an end. ‘Thank you, Laliala, for everything.’
Menin smiled and watched as he walked to the spot where he had first arrived. ‘Oh, and Coinin,’ she called. ‘Change your clothes. You smell.’
Coinin shook his head and laughed before vanishing once more into the vortex of light.
He landed sprawled across the moth-eaten rug in Meone’s chambers. It took a moment for him to catch his breath and sit upright. As he did so, anxious faces peered down at him.
‘Are you well?’ Aniol asked.
Coinin looked at them all and smiled sadly. ‘Yes, I am unharmed.’
Coinin stood with the assistance of Draken, who found himself, to his surprise wrapped in the young man’s arms in a tight hug. Draken’s eyes welled with tears, and he returned the embrace.
‘I forgive you. My need for family is greater than your past deeds,’ Coinin whispered.
Coinin let go the embrace and wiped away a tear. ‘It seems Mort may have influenced your actions through the years, Uncle, and if true, you cannot be held entirely responsible.’
Draken sat down on the nearest stool and looked happier than he had in many a year. Even Meone’s love did not compare to this emotion of belonging and family.
‘I also have wonderful news, Uncle.’
Draken looked up hopefully.
‘Marisa lives. She resides even now with the elves.’ Coinin smiled.
Draken could not contain his joy and broke down into tears of happiness. Meone, closest to him, wrapped a comforting arm around him and squeezed gently.
‘Did you speak to Archmage Menin?’ Aniol enquired.
‘I did indeed. She has opened my eyes to a few truths, one of which that I was always destined to be the curator and not just used as bait for Mort.’
‘So, The Brotherhood hid Marisa with the elves. Then we must leave immediately.’
‘I’ve never been to Astanoth, let alone the city of the elves,’ Coinin reminded. ‘We need to have seen the location with our eyes to use the key.’
‘What is this key that you speak of, Nephew?’ Draken enquired, while wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.
‘We have a means of instantaneous transportation to anywhere on Er’ath. Though we need to have physically been to a location to use the portal.’
‘I have visited the city of the elves, though Elindra isn’t really a city as we know it. It’s a forest city.’
‘Then you shall guide us, Uncle.’
‘But what of Meone?’ Draken objected.
Meone placed a hand on his shoulder. ‘I shall come with.’
‘You would do that for me?’ Draken asked.
‘You have captured my heart, Draken. I will follow you anywhere.’ Meone smiled.
‘But what of the temple?’ Aniol asked.
Meone chuckled. ‘The temple will take care of itself. Besides, my second will take care of matters while I am gone.’
‘Then we should prepare to leave,’ Coinin instructed.
‘Not before you’ve had a good meal inside you and changed those filthy clothes,’ Meone interjected.
Coinin and Aniol looked at one another and giggled. Meone was right, of course.
‘This once, I agree.’ Coinin held up his hand in acquiescence.
‘Then that is settled. Aniol and Coinin, you will follow me, and I will show you where you can bathe, and we will find you some robes. Draken, please make yourself at home. I shan’t be long.’
Draken watched the trio leave and settled in front of the fire. He laid his head back upon Meone’s chair and smiled to himself. He had everything his heart desired, and he could not have been happier.
THE ELVES
The forest was tranquil. The silence was broken only by the trickle of running water from a spring. The foliage was a myriad of colours: oranges, reds and golds of dying leaves.
A rabbit called in alarm and dashed away to its burrow as four visitors to the forest arrived with a rush of air, several feet from where it grazed.
Coinin, now dressed in a pleasant green robe, his hair clean and tidy, stepped forward and looked abou
t him warily. All seemed quiet and risk-free. ‘Well done for getting us here in one piece, Uncle.’
‘I have never experienced anything so intense as that,’ Draken replied. ‘For a moment there I thought that we were going to find ourselves in the middle of a tree.’
‘That would have been a nasty end for certain,’ Aniol agreed with a firm nod.
‘Where are we exactly?’ Coinin asked.
‘I thought I would take us outside of the city territory. We shall be able to walk in as visitors, rather than suddenly appearing from nowhere like invaders.’
‘A good plan, Draken,’ Meone praised.
‘I should warn you that the elves are not fond of visitors and are wary of anyone new. They are a proud peoples, though very guarded, as I said,’ Draken offered.
‘Is there anything, in particular, we should avoid doing once we meet these elves?’ Coinin enquired.
‘A non-elf must try not to make eye contact until spoken to first. And under no circumstances must you speak to the king first. He will initiate a conversation,’ Draken replied.
‘I can see this becoming tedious very quickly.’ Aniol sighed. ‘Anything else?’
Draken shook his head. ‘No, just follow my lead.’ He headed through a thicket and followed the spring through the trees until he had found a mud path that led further into the forest.
They followed this pathway uneventfully until at last the first signs of life that weren’t animal caught their eyes. From several trees along the path, multi-coloured banners written in Elvish declared that they were entering the City of Elindra.
Further along from this, a gate barred entry. Made from tree trunks, it was robust and clearly said, ‘Stay away’.
Despite the unwelcome nature of the gate, a large copper bell, complete with a clanger, stood to one side upon a frame. Draken stepped forward and rang it several times to alert anyone inside that they had visitors.
He need not have bothered since they were already watched from the moment they set foot upon the pathway.
Draken turned back to face Coinin and the others and received a shock. He quickly lowered his gaze to show that he came in peace. Coinin turned and saw to his surprise that a dozen or more elves stood quietly behind them, weapons ready. Remembering what he had been told, he also lowered his gaze and nudged Aniol and Meone to do likewise.
The Aduramis Chronicles: Volumes 1-3: The Definitive Collection Page 121