by Ron Glick
Nathaniel wondered inwardly about what the Eternal meant by 'old words', but chose to save that question for another time. “Is this 'amber' much closer? I should really be getting back to my friends.”
El'ba pointed towards a cliff face that could be seen through the trees slightly to the left of their path. “You can see the side of the break there. We follow it for a few more minutes, and then we will come to the cleft. That is where we will find the amber.”
Nathaniel chose not to ask further, saving his energy for whatever waited ahead. He could not completely trust the pair yet, though they certainly did not appear to present any immediate threat. Still, they knew of him, and far too many of late seemed to know about him who only wished him harm. From the stranger who had appeared in their camp that very morning to whomever had kidnapped his son and slain his wife, so far anyone who had become aware of his quest for the Old Gods had proven malicious. And Nathaniel was not inclined to rule out that possibility with these self-professed mystical persons.
Fewer trees separated the trio from the cliff as they moved along, and soon a worn area of rock emerged along the edge of the rock's face. Within a few more minutes, the trio had moved onto this natural path and managed to move somewhat faster.
“In days long gone now, this was a road, Nathaniel,” called the Eternal from behind. “I can remember when its edges were not so eroded away and its width was great enough for three wagons to travel along it without difficulty.”
Nathaniel stopped and turned on the old man. “Wait, days long gone? I thought you said you were traveling back through time? How could you know the past?”
The Eternal responded with a wistful grin. “Before I moved backwards, I had to move forward. Personally, I believe that my traveling back will come to a stop only when I reach the time I began moving forward, and that is quite some time along for me, yet.”
“You've lost me,” admitted Nathaniel.
“I will explain a little.” The old man urged Nathaniel to continue walking. Reluctantly, Nathaniel complied, and the elder continued. “For myself, our first encounter will occur while I am still moving forward. But like now, I existed outside of time, so the ravages of time did not affect me. At a point far in the future, I will escape that existence, only to find myself pulled backwards in time instead. I can only guess, but I believe I am essentially bouncing back to when all of this began – when my mortal life stopped being what it should have been. And I have no idea what will happen to me when that occurs.”
“Does that not scare you? Knowing you are going back to something unknown like that?”
Nathaniel could almost hear the shrug in the Eternal's voice. “We all know that we move towards dying at some point in our future. It is no different for me, though I have to assume that my end is much further along for me than most.”
“There,” called El'ba, pointing to a break in the cliff's face several hundred feet ahead. “There is the cleft. Through there is where we will see the amber.”
Now the Eternal hurried his pace, overtaking Nathaniel. Looking to the sky, he urged the others to hurry, as well. “If we take advantage of this break in the clouds, we will be able to see the city.”
“The First City you talked about?” asked Nathaniel.
El'ba was about to respond when the Eternal caught his arm. “Let Nathaniel see first, then we will answer.”
Now Nathaniel had just as much urgency to see this city that the old man spoke of. Whatever these two's ultimate purpose was with him, it was tied to this amber and city that they were speaking of. He had lost patience with mysteries and this appeared to be one that could be ended fairly quickly. The Eternal had mentioned that this would not take long...
Rounding the edge in the cliff, Nathaniel came up short in shock. He had not known what to expect, but what met his gaze would never have been it. Not by any conceivable imagination nor preparation could he have prepared for what he saw.
The break in the cliff extended perhaps fifty feet, something not immediately visible while approaching from the side. With this width, Nathaniel could now imagine the broad road that the Eternal had described, aided now by the occasional shaped stone that could be seen broken along the corridor.
But what was even more awe-inspiring was what ended the passage abruptly some thirty feet in.
Nathaniel cast his gaze upwards, scanning the immensity of what he saw. The vastness of it gave him a sense of vertigo, making his insides twist uneasily. Yet he continued to stare, unable to pull his eyes away from the sight.
The cliffs rose several hundred feet up, and the substance that clogged the pass reached all the way up and over the plateaus far above. In fact, the substance gave the very real illusion that it had somehow melted over the top of the rock. Had he climbed, Nathaniel had every belief that this strange substance would have rolled out and away from the corridor like waves of honey, solidifying as it went. He could see in his mind the possibility of a vast ocean of this substance as far as the eye could see.
It was exactly as the pair of immortals had described – it could only be called the amber, because that was exactly what it appeared to be on an impossibly grand scale. The passage was clogged with a titanic mass of golden, transparent frozen liquid. It had every appearance of being a mass of frozen tree sap, as if the greatest tree in all of existence had bled and sealed away this passage at some point in ancient history. It's substance was translucid, giving the clear impression of a depth that was greater than could be seen from where the trio stood.
“Impressive, isn't it?” said El'ba, breaking the mesmeric effect that had gripped Nathaniel's senses.
“What is it?” Nathaniel gasped.
“Wait a moment longer, and I will explain,” responded the Eternal.
Nathaniel returned his gaze to the massive golden glacier in front of him. The more he stared at it, the more he gained the perception that the substance had not just frozen in place like a drop of amber, however. There was a distinct impression that this was a wave of liquid that was somehow suspended in time, and that it could at any moment burst free from its suspension and wash Nathaniel away.
As he stared at it, the would-be Avatar saw a light begin to take form deep within the depths of the substance. Unconsciously, he moved slowly toward the massive wall, focusing on the expanding illumination from within – or perhaps behind – the wall of frozen destruction. As the light grew, so did the depth into the substance that Nathaniel could see – and with depth came other visions.
“Daylight shines down from above and shows what the shadows hide,” explained El'ba.
Slowly, shapes began to take form out of the murky substance, taking shape and eventually even gaining a semblance of color, albeit tinted with the ever present golden hue of the amber.
“Buildings,” Nathaniel gasped as he began to recognize some of the shapes. “Those are buildings.” He turned to look at the Eternal, who had adopted a withdrawn posture. “What is this place?”
“A little more,” the old man responded. The sorrow in his voice was obvious, and Nathaniel could not shake the personal attachment this man had to whatever existed beyond the transparent boundary.
Nathaniel turned back to the amber, now seeing even more details emerge. The architecture and bulbous shapes of towers and lower buildings came into view as the light penetrated further into the suspended scene, driving out the shadows closer to the ground. Eventually, the light flowed down to illuminate...
Nathaniel jerked back in horror. “By the Old Gods...” He turned to the Eternal. “That's... How is that possible?”
The Eternal had lowered his head, unable to share the image that Nathaniel had seen. “Your Gods will speak of covenants, of laws and rules which the mortals bound them to in exchange for worship. They will spend a great deal of time telling you what they are forbidden to do. But not one of them will tell you what the mortals did not think to forbid of them.”
Nathaniel returned his gaze to the amber, co
mmitting the abhorrence of what he saw to memory in spite of himself. “The Old Gods did this?”
“When men first came to Na'ril, they were fleeing a great war wherein their Gods had been at war for generations. Their Gods had committed atrocities against their faithful in the name of this war, and the first men wished to prevent such a thing from ever happening again. When Airek appeared to these first men, he offered them a new covenant, one that would prohibit the Gods from ever having such a war as what these men had endured. Airek appeared on behalf of twelve deities that were unbound--”
“Twelve?” interrupted Nathaniel. “There are only nine Old Gods.”
“Originally, there were twelve. Airek may have been the messenger, but he was only one of ten sibling deities, and he did not lead them as he does now. He still had to answer to his sire and mater. The Pantheon banished one of its own, and he became known in earlier days as the Dark God before memory of him passed from the land entirely. The remaining siblings later rose up in revolt and overthrew their parents.”
“Why is none of this ever talked of?”
“Nathaniel, we do not have time for this now. There will be time when we meet again, but for now what you must know is that the first men forgot something in their covenant. They were so concerned with the Gods harming them by attacking other Gods, that it never occurred to them to protect themselves from harm by other means.
“You see, though the Pantheon is forbidden to attack each other, the first men neglected to include a pact that would prevent the Gods from attacking them.”
“What is this place?” Nathaniel demanded. “And what did the Old Gods have to do with... this?”
“This is the First City, Nathaniel. It once had a proper name, but that name is now inconsequential. This is where men gathered to at first preserve the knowledge they had brought with them to this world, and later it became the center of all human existence. Beyond this passage is where the first men arrived, and where the city had grown to encompass the entirety of this natural valley. It was completely defensible against all enemies, who at that time mostly consisted of demi-humans and the like. Two of the three passes have long ago collapsed, leaving only this passage frozen in time.
“The men here rose above themselves, however. The original compact with the Gods was to safeguard them while they struggled to survive. But eventually, there developed the belief that men no longer needed Gods. This did not sit well with the Pantheon, and the decision was made to obliterate the plague of unbelief from the world. This is the result of that decision.”
The Eternal had been right. Nathaniel could not have conceived of such nefariousness. He would not have believed it possible had he not seen it with his own eyes. Yet there was no escaping that only a God could have committed such an impossible feat – to forever encapsulate an entire city in a solitary moment of existence.
In the distance, the light began to dim and the forms within the amber receded again into shadow. Yet the image that Nathaniel had seen last remained in his mind's eye, that of a man reaching out towards him as he raced to escape, his face frozen forever in terror.
Chapter 9
“How much longer are we going to continue like this?” asked Brea.
“Long's it takes, lass,” grunted the dwarf softly. “Long's it takes.”
Nathan had run into the woods at such a pace that he had quickly outpaced the pair. Bracken complained about his short dwarven legs, but for Brea it had simply been an inability to run as fast as the tall woodsman. Brea's life as a servant of Imery had not prepared her for arduous activity. Simply put, she simply did not have the muscle-tone needed to race through thickets and trees chasing a creature able to move as fast as light. And they had been delayed even further by the need to tie the horses before chasing after Nathan.
That being said though, Nathan had demonstrated a speed even greater than that of someone accustomed to wilderness living. At least, this was how Brea saw it. She had seen many fit men in her time – the recently departed mercenaries being a prime example – yet none of them had ever demonstrated an aptitude to move as quickly as Nathan had when he had set off after the mysterious sun creature well over an hour ago.
Nathan was proving himself a marvel in many ways. And each new discovery became a new admiration digging deeper into Brea's soul. Is this man incapable of not inspiring me?
Bracken had continued in pursuit with Brea close on his heels. Amazingly enough though, it had been she who had slowed him rather than the other way around. In spite of his self-criticism, the dwarf had great power in his stocky frame – and plainly had more endurance than what she could manage on her own.
“We are never going to find him if we can't at least call out to him,” Brea protested. Bracken had insisted on remaining silent while they sought out their companion.
“I told's ya – ya wan' ta call down th' elves, fine. Jus' let me run a mile th' ot'er way first.”
“But if the elves were guarding this tree, wouldn't we have seen one by now?”
Bracken shook his head. “Hard ta say. They's a sneaky lot.”
“What is it exactly you have against the elves, anyway? I've met a few and never known them to be dangerous. A little aloof, keeping to themselves mostly, but it's not like they're barbaric or anything.”
The dwarf spit. “Ya seen wha' they wants ya ta see when's they's walkin' 'mongst men. No' many do, moves 'mongst men tha' is. There's some who's outcas's, like meself. Then there's some's as gone inta 'venturin' fer wha'ever reason. An' then there's the traders, the one's who's gone an' 'cided ta get rich off'n men. Bu' no' a one of 'em is bein' hones' to yas. They's all elves, an' elves'll kill any who's no' an elf as look at's ya if'n ya give'm leave.
“Ya said so yerself – they's no' fer mixin' wit' men, e'en when they's 'mongst ya. But they's smart, those elves. They knows the rules – when ya walks in 'nother man's tunnel, ya don' bring down th' roof. One elf 'gainst a whole town? Pff!” Bracken spit again. “Elves ain't fools 'nough ta try'n kill a whole town. Bu' out 'ere? 'Way from all the trappin's o' wha' you call s'ciety? Yer bes' bet's no' to find ou' wha' they feels towards ya when's they don' fear cons'quences.”
“Then it's a good thing there are no elves around then,” called a voice from somewhere ahead.
Brea saw Bracken tense, then relax. Like herself, he had recognized Nathan's voice. And soon enough, their errant comrade walked around a tree in the distance.
“Yer sure 'nough o' that to keep shoutin' like that?” bellowed the dwarf in response.
“Fairly certain,” said Nathan as he came up to the pair. “I've met the neighbors.”
“Neighbors?” asked Brea.
Bracken squinted as he looked around himself suspiciously. “Yeah, wha' neighbors?”
Nathan made a visible sign of considering his words. “Not important. But they're not elves, if that'll put your mind at ease.”
Bracken squinted at his friend. “What ain'tcha sayin', Nate?”
“Let's just say there are people who want their secrets kept, and the best thing we could do would be to get back to the road and not traipse through their woods.”
Bracken's grip flexed on the haft of his axe. “I don' like the sound o' tha', Nate,” he gruffed. “An' I like e'en less wha' yer still no' sayin'.”
“Bracken, you'll need to just trust me, okay? We need to get out of these woods and forget we were here, alright?”
Brea stepped forward to stare into Nathan's eyes. “Are we in danger from whoever lives here?”
Nathan averted his eyes. “Not exactly. It's more what others would do, but it doesn't change our need to get moving.” He turned to the dwarf. “You're the one who never gets lost – what would be the quickest way back to the road from here?”
Bracken glared at his longtime friend and hrrumphed. “Yer gonna have ta answer 'venct'ally, bu' if'n wha' you say is true 'bout danger, we pro'ly don' have time ta argue 'bout it now.” The dwarf leveled his axe to his right. “Tha' way ta
the horses. An' from there, straigh' on ta the road.”
Nathan did not hesitate to start walking in the indicated direction, forcing Brea and Bracken to jump in order to catch up.
Brea half expected Nathan to remain silent, but as Bracken came up alongside him, the man started a conversation. “Bracken, you're somewhat worldly. What do you know about something called a phoenix?”
The dwarf laughed. “Pro'ly same's you. A bir', what's dies in fire'n stuff.”
“I've heard of something else called a phoenix,” offered Brea.
Nathan visibly slowed to allow Brea to intercept him, leaving Bracken to lead the party.
“When I was a postulant in the church, while I was being trained to be a priestess, we studied many legends so that we would not be ignorant of false beliefs if we came upon them while we proselytized,” the priestess offered. “There's a story of an old man that never dies and he's called a phoenix. The legend says he's always been and always will be, though I don't remember if the stories ever gave a reason why.”
Nathan smiled ruefully. “Was there anything in the story about what he did?”
Brea felt the blood rush from her face. “It's a legend, Nathan. Like any other myth, he was just someone who would have stories told about him, but he never really did any of them. Or at least, there was never any proof he had.”
Nathan looked about to speak, then stopped himself. After a moment, he changed the subject. “Was there anything in your books about where men came from? How we first came to be on Na'Ril?”
“You're asking me about the story of creation?”
“Not exactly,” amended Nathan. “I remember some of the stories various New Order priests told when they would travel through Oaken Wood when I was a boy. And I remember what my mother said were the Old Gods' version. But I mean, were there any stories other than those told by the Old Gods or New Order? Anything about the first men on Na'Ril?”