by Joseph Lallo
The shame consumed Cyrus. “I’ve always wanted to be more, to do more, to have more than I had before, Alaric. I was raised in the Society of Arms in Reikonos, and I’ve never had much to call my own.” He felt the warmth reach his eyes. “I gave everything I had to the Kings of Reikonos, to keep them in the best guildhall I could afford, to keep us fed and together. I held us together with the promise that someday we’d have more, that someday I could go for greatness.”
Looking out the window, Alaric crossed his arms. “What is greatness to you?”
Confused, agitated, impatient and almost wishing that this man he respected more than any he’d ever met would simply give him the right answer, he blurted out, “I don’t know. I always assumed it was being the best – having the best.”
Lowering his head and sighing, Alaric still did not look at him. “Are those two things one and the same?”
Cyrus shrugged his shoulders in exasperation. “I don’t know. I always assumed they were. In order to face the greatest threats of Arkaria, you need to be powerful.”
“We come to it at last. Power.” Alaric, turned, arms still crossed, and faced the warrior again. “There are two uses for power. You may use it to fulfill your ambitions and whims, both gross and tame – or you may use it for the good of others. Your purpose directs how you gain power and what you do with it.”
Alaric became lost in his thoughts for a moment. “A true officer of Sanctuary is driven by honor and self-sacrifice, knowing that service is its own reward.” The Ghost’s focus shifted back to the warrior. “Of this I can assure you – if you do not decide now what you believe in, what you stand for, and what you will do with the power and influence you acquire, then you will eventually leave Sanctuary just as Orion, Brevis, or any of the countless others that came before have.” Alaric moved his hand as if to forestall any response. “Think about it for a time.”
Cyrus thought about it intently for a moment. “What's your purpose?”
A smile cracked the knight's lips. “My purpose is what I have assembled Sanctuary for – to create a force capable of defending against threats to Arkaria.”
Cyrus's brow furrowed. “Then why all this interest in excursions? In adventures?”
The Ghost sighed. “Armies do not function well in idleness – they need challenge and things to accomplish. Great threats do not present themselves every day. People as individuals also do not function well in poverty – with the exception of a paladin, of course. A constant series of explorations keeps our fighters sharp, lets us earn money and better positions us to fulfill my primary purpose.”
“I admit,” Cyrus said with a nod, “while honor has been emphasized since day one here, this is the first I've heard of a greater mission of Sanctuary.”
“That would be the result of Orion's singular focus on expeditions at the time you were recruited. We help those who need it and protect against grave dangers to Arkaria.” Alaric sighed deeply. “Although I cannot prove it, I suspect one of those dangers is on the horizon at this moment.”
“What is it?” Cyrus asked with concern.
“I cannot say for certain; I have only suspicions based on fragments of information.” Alaric cast his eyes downward. “And now,” he turned back to the window, “I sense I must take my leave of you.” There was a hissing and Alaric was covered in a mist, which faded, leaving nothing behind.
Cyrus looked at the spot where Alaric had been, alarmed. “That was... ominous.” Cyrus looked around the room. That did not look like any teleport spell I've ever seen – and paladins can't teleport anyway!
“He faded into the ether, didn’t he?”
Curatio’s voice startled Cyrus, who was already on edge, realizing that the ‘Ghost of Sanctuary’ might not be a nickname.
“Into the what?” Cyrus asked the elf, still astonished.
“The ether,” Curatio said. “When he appears, it's like mist taking shape. Same thing when he disappears.”
Cyrus's mouth was suddenly very dry. “How does he do that?”
Curatio shrugged. “I'm not certain,” he said, expression neutral. “He’ll be back in time for the Alliance meeting.” Changing the subject, he moved on. “Now that you’re an officer, have you moved into your new quarters yet?”
“No. I haven’t been an officer very long, after all.”
“Let’s get you set up, then.”
Cyrus followed Curatio up to the next floor and waited as he unlocked a room. Stepping inside, Cyrus was impressed. The officer’s quarters were easily four times the size of his previous quarters – and as if that weren’t enough, there was a door on the far end of the room to his own private bathroom, complete with running water – something that many cities in Arkaria didn’t have.
Looking around, he tried to imagine the placement of his new bed, but dismissed it as Curatio spoke to him again. “We’ll have your possessions brought up from your quarters, unless you’re dying to do it yourself. The Alliance Officers’ meeting will be taking place tomorrow afternoon at the Coliseum in Reikonos. We’ll set off after breakfast. A wizard will transport us to Reikonos Square. We'll go on horseback from there.”
Cyrus looked at him skeptically. “And Alaric will be back by the time we leave?”
Curatio smiled. “Trust me.”
Chapter 25
Alaric appeared for breakfast the next day, looking the same as he always did. “What happened yesterday?” Cy asked.
“We will discuss it in great detail... someday,” Alaric said under his breath and returned to greeting other guild members.
When they departed, Cyrus was paired with a white horse named Windrider, who responded to him affectionately. Nyad brought them to the portal in Reikonos Square. Cyrus looked at the portal, an ovoid ring of rock that looked like a door.
They crossed under the shadow of the Reikonos Citadel, ignoring the hot, stuffy air that did not seem to be moving at all. They passed most of the journey conversing about a myriad of topics.
“Do you know how Lake Magnus was formed?” Curatio looked at the warrior as he asked the question, assuring Cyrus that he was not talking to Alaric.
Cyrus shook his head. “I’ve only been there once.”
Curatio nodded. “Most people don’t. Long ago, there was a war...”
It dawned on Cyrus that he knew what Curatio was talking about. “Yes, I've heard this. The gods were meddling in the affairs of mortals, pitting them against each other in wars, basically along classic good and evil lines – the titans, goblins and trolls against an alliance of dwarves, gnomes and elves. As the war spread all over the world, it also crossed into the Realms of the gods, as lesser gods tried to eliminate each other – the only stability in the pantheon was the six highest gods. The Elementals – Fire, Earth, Air, Water – and Good and Evil.”
Curatio smiled, pleased to have such an engaged pupil. “The names for the gods of Good and Evil have long been lost to the winds of time, but we know the lesser and elemental gods because some still interfere in the affairs of mortals. Sometimes literally,” Curatio said with a knowing look.
Cyrus snickered. “You're referring to Yartraak's dark elven harem in Saekaj Sovar, or perhaps the myth that Vidara, Goddess of Life, had a child with a human?”
The healer blushed. “Those are two of countless rumors spread through the ages. I was speaking of interference in mortal events – and of the war that consumed the world and spread to the Realms in ancient times. Bellarum, your god, gathered his mortal armies and sent them into the Realms of his enemies, causing all sorts of havoc.”
“Until one day,” Cyrus interrupted, “his army killed Eruditia, the Goddess of Learning, with Ferocis, his Warblade, and he was set upon by all the gods, even his allies, and he was punished.”
“Quite so,” Curatio said, clearly impressed. “The God of War's reputation suffers to this day because of that. You probably know that, if you tell people you're a follower of Bellarum.”
“Once or twice, it nearly got me killed,” Cyrus said, voice tight.
“Anyway,” Curatio went on, “Lake Magnus was a crater that filled with water after Ashea, Goddess of Water, sent down Amnis, the Spear of Water, for her truest follower to use during the war. Like all godly weapons, it was imbued with a portion of Ashea's godhood, making it more powerful than mortal magics.”
“I've heard legends of godly weapons,” Cyrus said. “I wasn't sure they existed outside the drooling stories of legend told by covetous warriors in the Society of Arms.”
“Oh, they exist,” Alaric said. “Reikonos has one, though it is not widely known. They have the aforementioned Amnis under heavy guard in the Citadel.”
“The Elven Kingdom is in possession of the Ventus, the Scimitar of Air,” Curatio said. “It rests in Pharesia and has been there for thousands of years.”
“How many are there?” Cyrus pulled the reigns of Windrider to keep pace.
Curatio shrugged. “Each god has at least one, but there are only five on Arkaria that we know of. The four elemental weapons are the most well-known. Amnis, Ventus, Terrenus, the Hammer of Earth – the Goblins in Enterra have that one – and Torris, the Scepter of Fire.”
“And Ferocis, the Warblade of Bellarum?” Cyrus asked.
“Yes, and that one,” Curatio nodded.
“I forgot to mention at the time,” Cyrus said, “but after everyone left Kortran, I was alone for a few minutes taunting Talikartin and Razeel, and they mentioned that Ferocis was stolen the night before we got there.”
“What?” Alaric stopped his horse suddenly, eye wide through the slit of his helm.
Curatio stopped his horse as well. “Are you certain?”
“Fairly certain,” Cyrus said. “Talikartin offered me a painless death if I returned it.”
“And you are certain,” Alaric enunciated every word, “he said it was the Warblade of Bellarum?”
“Oh yes.” Cyrus nodded heartily. “I wouldn't forget. I do worship Bellarum, after all – I had heard of the Warblade... I was wishing I had it.” Cyrus looked more carefully at Alaric, whose mouth had drawn into a tight line. The rest of the Ghost's emotions were carefully hidden by his helmet. Curatio, on the other hand, had downturned lips and his eyes were wide and haunted.
Cyrus thought for a moment. “I might have seen Terrenus as well, now that I think about it... I saw a cloaked figure receive a hammer from the Emperor of Enterra the night we were there, just before I died.”
“Did you see who the figure was that took the hammer?” Curatio and Alaric shared a look of great significance.
Cyrus shook his head. “It was dark and their cowl was down; it could have been anyone.”
Alaric frowned. “I cannot imagine the circumstances under which the Emperor of Enterra would freely part with a weapon created by their god.”
Cyrus shrugged. “I only know what I saw.”
“We should continue.” Alaric spurred his horse forward. “I appreciate your bringing this to our attention. It is cause for great concern when coupled with certain... other information.”
“Care to share?” Cyrus asked.
“Soon,” Alaric said.
They came through the city gates, and Cyrus’s eyes fell upon a coliseum constructed some distance from the city proper. An enormous entrance with post and lintel architecture, it was large enough for the biggest troll to walk through on a horse without difficulty. As they brought their steeds through the gates, Cyrus saw an expansive dirt floor, ideal for large battles. A group of people were at the entrance to the arena floor, sitting and standing around. As they rode closer, he started to recognize some of the figures, partitioned into two groups.
On his left side stood the officers of Goliath. Elisabeth was talking with Tolada and Malpravus as well as one of the other officers of Goliath that Cyrus had never learned the name of. Standing almost opposite of them was Erith with Cass. They seemed to be in good spirits, though somewhat sterner than in the past.
Greetings were exchanged after the trio had dismounted. Tolada began to speak. “Welcome, Alliance officers. As always, it is a great pleasure. We have several items on the agenda today, and we’d like to cover them quickly, so as not to delay our passage home to our guilds.” He launched into the first item on his agenda. “Last meeting, we entertained a proposal which I feel has merit: the idea of a regular sequence of expeditions with mandatory attendance for all Allied guild members –”
The dwarf didn’t get any farther than that before Alaric was standing. Rather than wait to be addressed, he butted in, talking over Tolada. “Sanctuary vetoed that idea and will continue to veto it every time it is brought up.” Unlike at Sanctuary Council, Alaric had his helmet on. Cyrus could see his mouth curled in irritation. “It is not our policy to compel people to go to places they have no interest in going.” He looked around the assemblage. “That is something best left to the guilds like Endeavor, Amarath's Raiders or Burnt Offerings. It is unworthy of those of us who profess to believe in the bonds of fellowship more than conquest.”
Tolada looked ready to rebut when Erith intervened. “The Daring also veto. Since any proposed changes require unanimous agreement before passage,” she began to smirk at Tolada, “I’d say you got your wish: three minutes into the meeting and we’ve already scratched one dumb idea off the list of crap we have to go through.”
If the nettle bothered him, Tolada shrugged it off. “Very well. Malpravus has an interesting proposal. We have all heard the news that there are new Realms open to mortals. We have also seen a great departure by the guilds that Alaric mentioned – and it brings us an opportunity to follow them into these new Realms and see what awaits us there.” He nodded self-importantly and continued, “We do, however, need a structured force. To that end, Goliath would like to bring forth a proposal to make us more powerful. Malpravus?”
Tolada led the meeting in a smattering of lukewarm applause. Casting a glance, Cy found Curatio clapping politely while Alaric abstained, arms folded. Erith looked mutinous. Elisabeth applauded while Cass did not.
The Goliath Guildmaster seemed not to notice any of this as he glided into position to speak. “We will have a manpower problem going into these new Realms,” he pronounced. “Early rumors circulating from the contacts we have in the higher guilds all say the same thing. These excursions require either enormous groups of people, trained reasonably, or a smaller, elite group equipped with the best training, weapons and armor.” The dark elf stopped to favor them all with a snake-like smile. “Either path requires a different organizational structure than we have now. We miss opportunities on a consistent basis because scheduling excursions or attacks is of such great difficulty that none but the exceptionally experienced,” his hand waved toward Elisabeth, “or the naïve would do it.” His hand gestured toward Cyrus.
“In order to form a more consolidated command structure, I propose we combine into one guild.” The necromancer paused, looking around for reactions. Stunned shock filled Cyrus’s mind. Curatio's lips were pursed. Erith had rolled her eyes again and Cass was stone-faced.
Cyrus heard a faint sound he couldn’t quite place; looking down he saw Alaric’s hand rattling in his gauntlet, shaking. Cy could see the paladin’s jaw was clenched and the muscles on his neck stood out, giving his skin a stretched appearance. “Just where,” he asked in a tone that belied his true emotions, “would you anticipate headquartering this new guild you’d like to form?” The question was directed at Malpravus, who was looking befuddled at Alaric’s odd posture while asking it.
“Excellent question,” Malpravus began smoothly. “Of course, accommodations large enough to house such a... Goliath,” he said with a grin, “are difficult to come by. However, I do recognize that one guild present possesses quarters large enough to handle our... modest needs.” Every word that came from the dark elf's mouth positively dripped with oil as Cyrus heard them. “Naturally, I speak of Sanctu
ary's guildhall... oddly placed, true, but large enough...”
“He's been after our guildhall since before we joined the Alliance,” Curatio breathed, so low only Cyrus could hear him.
“Veto.” Alaric’s voice was strained; it sounded as though every muscle in his body was exerted. Cyrus raised an eyebrow at him, wondering if that much pressure could result in all of the Ghost’s innards exploding out his back. He furrowed his brow, a question occurring to him after seeing Alaric's disappearing act the day before: did the paladin have innards? Or was he a legitimate ghost?
Erith interjected again. “Yeah, I veto too.” Her eyes went back to Tolada. “This might be our quickest meeting ever if the topics keep coming like this.”
The dwarf took over for an emotionless Malpravus as the Goliath Guildmaster resumed his seat. “Those were the two topics I had in mind. Does anyone else have anything to cover?”
Erith raised her hand. “I have a proposal for a new Alliance rule.”
Tolada looked down at her. “Very well, you may present your suggestion.”
Erith walked to the place where the speakers had stood. “I propose that any member of an Alliance guild who leaves that guild must wait at least three months before applying and being accepted at another Alliance guild.”
Silence greeted this proposal. Tolada began to shift his weight from foot to foot, studying his boots. Malpravus had the cowl of his cloak back up to obscure his face.
Curatio whispered to Cyrus and Alaric, “We’re missing something here.” Cy was about to ask him to clarify when Erith continued.
“As we all know, Goliath greatly profited in the last few months from the Daring's struggles. Now, with recent Sanctuary departures going to Goliath, I feel we need something to curb this tendency –”
She said more, after that, but Cyrus didn’t hear a word of it for several seconds. His vision blurred, so stunned was he by that admission. His hand went up, completely dumbstruck, and he asked his question before Alaric or Curatio could stop him, assuming that they would have if they could. “I’m sorry, who from Sanctuary went to Goliath?”