The Tear of Gramal

by Phillip Jones

  Everyone in the room, except Shamand and the Frigid Commander began to argue. As they shouted amongst each other, now all holding scrolls of their own and pointing them around the large, circular table, the Frigid Commander leaned over and whispered into Shamand’s ear. “This is pointless, My Liege. You should settle this matter quickly so that we can prepare the undercity for Thoomar’s passing. The army has already received word that Shiver shall be their king, and they are passing this word to the populace. This squabble gets us nowhere.”

  Shamand smiled and adjusted to a position where he could return the whisper. “Such is politics, my friend. Go now, and prepare to light the fire. See to it that Thoomar’s pyre is the tallest any Isorian shall ever behold. I want his memory to be burned into the minds of all Isor. I’ll stay behind and ensure that this council settles on a proper outcome. I dare say the wit at this table is not the strongest in our kingdom … well, excluding the two of us, of course.”

  The Frigid Commander smiled and then turned to leave.

  Shamand sat in silence for a long series of moments and allowed the council’s angry shouts to fill the expanse of the room. When he had enough, he held up his hand and commanded their silence. “I have heard all I intend to hear! Now … I shall tell you my point of view!”

  Before another word could be uttered, three of the five minds Shamand would address already knew they would agree with Shamand out of respect. Only Arath and Drydeth would need a strong political hand to mold their points of view. This was a hand Shamand wielded with ease.

  That Same Peak

  Late Bailem

  Now, fellow soul … allow me to interject again. Ever since the end of the Great Thaw, wizards, warlocks and witches traveled from Luvelles once every five seasons. They were allowed passage by the King of Brandor, and their magic was used to help the Isor rebuild. In doing so, many special items were manipulated by their magic to better serve the people.

  An example of this exceptional use of magic was Clandestiny’s bed, specifically her mattress and pillow. They had been altered and felt like she was lying on a real mattress and a real pillow that had been stuffed with vestle chick feathers. These magical adjustments were everywhere throughout the city, and as long as another Great Thaw never happened, the ice that shaped Clanny’s mattress and pillow would never need to be replaced.

  Clandestiny also received many other gifts because of her bloodline. Her room was filled with soft touches—most of them handcrafted. Her bed was covered with her most prized possession, a blanket that was made of cotton grown on Harvestom, and the magic cast upon it allowed the cover to radiate a soothing chill. The blanket was hand stitched, and its colors were bright. The reds, blues, and yellows—oh, those golden yellows—were her favorite. With all the stuffed dolls and animals scattered about Clanny’s room, it looked like any child’s from Earth ... except for the walls of ice that felt cave-like.

  Medolas slid into Clanny’s room through the same hole he had thrown chunks of ice down the Peak before. As always, he landed on his feet and sprang forward to catch his balance. Once settled, he looked to find his heart’s desire and then frowned once he did.

  Clandestiny sat crying in front of a fair-sized desk that had been stained brown. She was holding her fluffy, white, overweight sudwal that she had named Sajeen. The fat, little dog was licking her cheeks and nuzzling her with its nose while trying to cheer her up.

  Medolas looked into the large mirror above the desk and found Clanny’s reflection. The oval frame surrounding the mirror was made of ice, and it had been stained red.

  Seeing Clanny’s crystallized tears lying on the floor, Medolas moved to put his arms around her from behind, but Sajeen growled to stop him from comforting her.

  Medolas ignored the dog’s threat. “Ohhh, Clanny,” he said softly. “I hate seeing you like this.”

  Clandestiny lowered the sudwal to the floor and watched as the dog lumbered across the room. It barely manage to jump onto the bed before she turned and buried her head into Medolas’ shoulder. “I cannot believe Thoomar is gone. It’s our fault. We should’ve honored our fathers’ wishes and failed to swim in restricted waters.”

  Stroking the top of Clanny’s head, Medolas looked for a way to justify their actions within his own mind, but when no justification could be found, tears of his own began to escape while he responded with as much confidence as he could muster. “I know this is hard for you. You’re right. The responsibility of Thoomar’s passing lies with us. What can I do to make it better?”

  Clanny leaned back and found his milky-gray eyes. “You cannot fix this, Meddy. The greatest of Isorians is gone because of our transgression. This isn’t some chip in a piece of furniture that we can simply patch. What’s wrong with you?”

  Medolas backed up to give Clandestiny some space. “Since there’s nothing I can do...” He shrugged. “What now?”

  “I’m scared, Meddy.” Clanny moved across the room and took a seat on the bed. Her form sank into the magically altered ice as she wiped a large tear off her face. As the yellow blood smeared across the top of her hand, the small, blue crystallizations in her skin altered their color and temporarily created a shade of green. A moment later, Sajeen waddled across the bed and licked at the discoloration until Clanny’s hand returned to its normal color.

  Shaking his head at the dog’s heft, Medolas waited for Clanny to continue. Eventually, she was able to collect her thoughts. “With the Tear hanging from my neck, something within me is changing. I feel peculiar … as if an unknown emptiness that exists within my being has begun to fill.”

  Rather than respond, Medolas continued to listen.

  “Will I also be required to end myself as Thoomar did for Gabs? Am I truly special, or am I just another sacrifice when the moment comes that I’m needed? I don’t even understand what the Tear does or how I should act. How does this responsibility change our lives?”

  The sudwal backed up to the head of the bed and growled as Medolas took a seat beside Clanny. He reached across the bed, snagged the chubby pooch and then pulled it into his arms. “It’s only been a short while, Clanny. Things will come into focus. Thoomar would not have left you with the responsibility if you weren’t capable of bearing it. He was a wise leader, and he would’ve been a great king.”

  When Clanny just sat in silence, Medolas added, “Besides, it’s not your lack of understanding about the Tear that bothers me. I’m more worried about your health.”

  Clanny’s eyes found Medolas’. “Do I look sickly, Meddy?”

  “No … not sickly, but since you took possession of the Tear, your skin feels warmer to the touch. It’s as if you have a fever. Are you feeling alright?”

  “I feel healthy … yet strange. But the words to explain this strangeness and what my body is going through escapes my lips. I feel as if I’m becoming powerful … growing somehow. I’m so confused.”

  Clanny stood and returned to the mirror. She reached across the desktop and pulled a small, silver, tin case in front of her. She removed the lid, opened the desk drawer and then grabbed the handle of a small brush. “My understanding of the training I’m to receive is lacking. All I know is that I must work with my father and Shiver’s mother to become whatever it is I’m to become.”

  Medolas tossed the sudwal onto the bed behind him. “What of the Ko-dess? Do you have any knowledge of the beast?”

  Clanny sighed, “None, other than I know the beast is said to be an abomination.”

  Crossing his left leg over his right, Medolas scratched at the pysples on the bottom of his foot. “How are you going to handle Shiver’s mother?”

  The thought of Blandina made Clandestiny clinch her hand around the handle of the brush. She looked into the mirror and found Medolas’ reflection. “I dislike her, Meddy. Wickedness permeates her every pore and surrounds her like a fog. Though I’ve seen no ill doing, I know her heart is wrong. Do you think I should tell Shiver that she seemed happy about Thoomar’s demise?�
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  Medolas stood from the bed. “Have you gone nordel? Do you truly think it’s best to bring such an accusation to your future sovereign? Telling him wouldn’t accomplish anything.”

  Clanny dabbed the brush into the tin and began to apply the soft blue powder to her face. “It appears that I shouldn’t have asked you for your opinion,” she responded with a half-hearted smile and eyes filled with irritation. “My mind is still intact … I think.” She pondered. “I’m stressed. Perhaps it’s possible that I have gone nordel. Do I seem off, my love?”

  “No more than usual.” Medolas knelt on the floor and began picking up Clandestiny’s frozen tears.

  Before Clanny could turn away from the mirror to scold Medolas, another figure slid into the room through Clanny’s hole. Gabs bounced a bit to try to keep his balance, but since the ruby eyed child had been running when he began his slide, his momentum forced him to tumble across the room. He rolled over the bed, squishing Sajeen as he did and then fell off the other side, hitting the nightstand covered with stuffed toys.

  The sudwal yelped as the stuffed animals fell, the largest bonking Gabs on the head as the ruby eyed child came to a stop with his bare feet resting atop the bed and his back on the floor.

  Frightened, Clanny’s sudwal darted out of the room while she shouted, “Gabs, what has become of your mind? Do you wish to perish again? Thoomar has already sacrificed himself, yet you treat this gift as if it isn’t something you cherish! You should be fed to the gashtion!”

  Before another word could be uttered, another young man slid out of the hole. His attempt to catch himself was far worse than Gabs’. He not only rolled across the top of Clanny’s bed, but he also managed to roll to his feet and slide out the door and down the hallway.

  Now Clanny was more than furious. She stood, stomped through the doorway, and without saying a word, she grabbed Slips by his arm. As she pulled him back into the room, he lost his balance and fell to his backside on three occasions before Clanny could force him into a seated position on the edge of her bed.

  Fellow soul … when referred to by his given name, Slips was called Sagar. He was the son of Ohedri, the leader of the Meslan Clan, the same Isorian Arath intended to end before she was stopped by the Frigid Commander. Slips was born with an irritating birth defect. It was this deformity that had given Thoomar the idea to assign Slips his nickname.

  Though other Isorians were unable to see Sagar’s flaw when he was standing still, his birth defect became evident as soon as he started walking. Slips was born without pysples, the small suction cups that all Isorians and Tormalians were born with. Without pysples, traction on smooth ice was practically impossible.

  “Have you all lost your intellect?” Clanny scolded. “What if my father saw the lot of you in my room? He’d troblet us for sure!”

  Slips was the first to speak. “Stop being dramatic, Clanny. Gabs and I felt it necessary to check on you. We’re here to show our devotion as friends. We wanted to ensure your wellbeing.”

  As Gablysin picked himself up off the floor, he added, “Besides … I couldn’t stand another moment with my father. He has been scolding me in counsel for far too many moments. My backside is sore from the strap that hangs behind his bedroom door.” The ruby eyed child flopped onto the bed and tucked Clanny’s pillow behind his head. After resting his feet on the wall above the headboard, he continued. “Did you guys get trobleted?”

  “I have failed to return home,” Medolas responded. “I fear my grandmother’s reaction. I don’t want to have my hair pulled when she decides to drag me through the home. The last series of moments in which she reacted so harshly, I almost spent what was left of my youth ugly and bald.”

  Slips and Gabs began to laugh, but Clanny did not see the humor in the situation. She was about to scold the lot of them further, but Shamand’s voice echoed from down the hallway. “Clandestiny! I’d like to speak with you, child!”

  Slips was the first to his feet. “We must flee,” he whispered. “He’ll tear our limbs off if he sees us.”

  “Shhhhhhh,” Medolas commanded. “Just go up the hole.”

  All three boys hurried to the hole, keeping Slips upright as they bickered about who would go up first.

  Seeing their moments were short, Gabs grunted and lowered onto his knees. Slips stepped onto the ruby eyed child’s back and then reached up into the hole. He grabbed chiseled hand-holds and began his ascent. Once Medolas was in, he reached back and pulled Gabs up. The three disappeared from sight just as Shamand entered the room, holding Doejess’ arm.

  Clandestiny took a deep breath, wiped the sweat from her brow and exhaled as her father’s large frame cleared the icy archway. She knew Doejess had seen the boys and could only hope he would say nothing.

  Understanding her anxiety, Doejess smiled, nodded and then waited for Shamand to speak.

  “Clanny, come to me,” Shamand commanded as he extended his arms.

  Clandestiny did as she was told. “Father, I had no expectation of your return. Is everything as it should be?”

  Shamand took a deep breath. “I’ve come to request that you dress elegantly for the lighting of Thoomar’s pyre. I’d like you to stand at my side when the celebration begins. The fire will be large enough to warm the hands of Helmep, and since your mother will be looking down on us, it is my desire that she marvel at your beauty from the heavens.”

  Clandestiny wrapped her arms around her father and squeezed. “It’ll be my joy to make you proud.”

  Shamand smiled and then turned to leave the room. Just before he passed the arch, he lifted his head into the air and sniffed.

  “What is it, Father?”

  Shamand grinned and waited. He knew something was amiss. His ears could hear the shallow sounds of the boys’ struggles as they worked to push Slips up and out of the hole. Sure enough, Slips lost his hand-holds and all three boys came sliding back into the room and piled on top of one another.

  Medolas’ breath was knocked from his lungs as Slips landed on his chest, and Gabs was the first to speak as he stood to brush himself off. “Ohhhhhhh! We must have slid down the wrong hole,” he announced. “Medolas, I thought you said this was the spot.”

  “Yeah, Medolas,” Slips added while looking down through his legs at Medolas’ face. “How could you have failed to choose the proper hole?”

  “Enough!” Shamand said sternly. “Don’t mistake my blindness for ignorance. I could smell your stench when I entered the room. The night is filled with a breeze, and it carried the smell of your fear to my nostrils. Stand before me. Now! Clanny, you move to your bed and sit!”

  All the children did as instructed. Once the boys were standing at attention, Shamand continued. “Gabs, your father needs your help. His wheeled chair has broken, and his legs are not strong enough to ensure his arrival at Thoomar’s passing. I shall decide what action to take for breaking the sacredness of my daughter’s room after I’ve had the moments to think of a proper punishment. Now go, and bring your father to the pyre!

  “Slips, you shall return home. See that your family knows of your trespass. If your father fails to troblet you thoroughly, I shall do it myself. You best make sure the beating is severe. Do you understand me, boy?”

  With a nod, Slips responded. “Yes, sir.”

  “Go!” Shamand snapped.

  Shamand asked Doejess to leave and return when the moment arrived to depart for Thoomar’s passing. Once the skinny assistant was gone, Shamand addressed Medolas. Unexpectedly, his voice was soft and far from angry. “I know of your affections for my Clandestiny, Medolas. I’m no fool. I know your love for her is genuine, and under other circumstances, I would’ve blessed your relationship. But I fear a union between the two of you will be impossible. You must protect your heart and pull back.”

  Clandestiny stood from the bed and moved to take a spot beside Medolas. “Father, Meddy is the other half of my life’s source. How dare you say our love is an impossibility.”

&n
bsp; “I agree,” Medolas added. “I love Clandestiny. Great One, I complete her.”

  Shamand sighed and forced a fatherly smile. He knew that what he was about to say would rip out the hearts of both children, and his face displayed his dread. After clearing his throat more than once, he spoke. “Clanny, with the blessing that has been bestowed upon you by the High Priestess, you have many responsibilities that will command your attention.”

  Clanny’s face appeared confident as she responded. “I can handle them, Father. You’ll see. I can handle anything with Meddy at my side.”

  “I can be there for her,” Medolas added.

  Shamand smiled. “I love you both. But your romance must end.”

  “No!” Clanny grabbed Medolas’ hand in defiance. “I won’t do anything without my Meddy!”

  Shamand’s heart broke at the thought of what he had to say next. “Clandestiny … I have no control over fate. Our laws force me … force you … into this position, and I regret it as much as you. I’d love nothing more than to see your hand fall lovingly into Medolas’ on the Peak of your union. But I fear that this Peak will never come.”

  “But why?” Clanny queried. “What law would prevent us from bonding eternally?”

  Medolas remained quiet while he waited for Shamand to respond.

  “Only a direct descendant to the throne can bear the responsibility of the Tear. This is why Thoomar was chosen to be king. Now that he has passed, and you bear the responsibility, you are to be bound to Shiver and become queen over the Isor.”

  “Shiver?” Clandestiny protested. “You must be mad. Then I won’t bear the Tear. Medolas is the only one who can complete me.” Clandestiny grabbed the Tear of Gramal and began to remove it from her neck. “Here, Father, take it from me.”