The Way of Light

by Constantine, Storm

  Now, he stood upon a bare hill that would become the central mound of the city of Magrast. All around him were ranked the kings and queens of history, the sorceresses, wise women, magi, wizards and shamans of all the ages. He saw the company of divine bards, who could speak only virtue, and the champions of kings, both male and female, leaning upon their swords, clad in shining armour. In the centre of this blessed company stood the first king, who had been little more than a barbarian, but who had sought to unite the warring factions of his country. The magus, who was his counsellor, stood before him, holding out a strange crown of spikes and tines that looked as if it had been fashioned from living coral and bone. Flames danced within it and what looked like sparkling diamonds hanging from it were drops of clear water. A woman with red hair, clad in a dark blue gown, stepped forward and took the crown from the magus. She placed it upon the head of the king, saying, ‘Thus do I crown you, Casaban, in the name of Paraga, Foy, Efrit and Hespereth, the elemental dragons who represent the powers of the cosmos and the forces of creation. Rule wisely, oh king, for the land is your flesh, its people your blood. Joy to them who wait to hear the word from your lips. Love is the word, the law that commands time to relinquish its promise of death. For through your countenance, we and the land are immortal.’

  Now, before Valraven’s eyes, time accelerated. The divine company disappeared and buildings began to appear upon the hill. Valraven hung over it, looking down. He saw crude wattle and daub dwellings replaced by those of stone. He saw castles rise and boats sail up the great river from the sea, bearing produce from far lands. He saw armies form and witnessed the births of mighty men and women in high towers. He saw flags billow on the wind and heard the chants of joy issuing from the sacred temples that were nothing grander than stone circles upon bare hills. Had there ever been such a golden age, or was this merely the hope and desire of humanity expressed within his mind? For surely, the darkness in men’s hearts prevented any such utopia. He saw it now, creeping out of every dwelling like a vile-smelling smoke. He saw, as pulsing sickly colours, the fear, greed, ignorance and seeping uncertainty that bred either hate or indifference. But there was nobility too, and love and honour. They were mixed together in a chaotic maelstrom of feeling, of force.

  How do we overcome this? he thought. How can the light within us take control? For the fear is always stronger.

  Then he was standing upon the hill once more, aeons before the first human had ever trodden there. The land was innocent, clean of humanity. A woman stood before him, the same one who had crowned Casaban. ‘The answer lies in silence,’ she said, ‘and in the Way of Light. If you serve the light and hold the silence of awareness within you, you become your own Golden Land.’

  ‘Awareness of what?’ he asked.

  ‘All that is. You cannot change the hearts of men and women, but you can live an example of all they aspire to be, a reflection of life and their connection to it.’

  Now the dawn broke over the hills in the east. Valraven stood next to the red-haired woman and watched the sun rise. He heard a heavenly chant as of the voices of a thousand angels raised in song. He saw the elemental dragons rise from the land to hang above the hills. The light of the new sun became brighter and brighter and suddenly a bolt of searing radiance shot out of the dawn and struck Valraven on the forehead. He was filled with the light, part of it. He wanted to weep with poignant sadness and sheer bliss. Before him, in the light, hung the Crown of Silence. He saw Khaster, Shan, Tayven and Merlan upon their quest to locate it. He saw all that they had suffered and learned.

  ‘The Crown of Silence is yours,’ the woman said to him, ‘as is the Way of Light. You are the Sea Dragon Heir. Take this light away from this place and use it to heal through awakening. Before the dawn, there will be darkness. Take your people to the old domain, for that is where the darkness will come for you. This time, the outcome must be different.’

  ‘Who are you?’ Valraven asked.

  ‘I am Sinaclara,’ she replied. ‘And I am with you always. Soon, I will come to you in flesh, as will your wife and daughter, and all those who must walk the path with you.’

  Valraven had many more questions he wanted to ask, but before he could form any of them, his consciousness was yanked away once more. He found himself flailing in water. For a moment, he thought he was back in the chamber of dreams, but then realised he was out in the ocean surrounded by thick fog. Desperately, he paddled water to keep afloat, looking around himself, seeking land. If he was near it, he could not see it through the fog.

  Instinctively, he remembered the light within him; thinking of it filled him with warmth. He cried out, ‘Foy! Attend me! I am in need!’

  For a moment, nothing happened, but even so, Valraven did not fear. He felt as if the divine light burst out of him, from his eyes, his crown, his hands.

  And then the water was boiling ahead of him. White foam burst through the surface, along with flotsam from long sunken ships. In a mighty eruption of weed and spray, the dragon queen rose majestically from the sea. This was no vision, but reality. Valraven could see her wise serpent eyes looking down upon him. He realised he could call upon her now whenever he wished.

  ‘Foy, we are in accord,’ he said. ‘I once took the decision to lay you to rest, but now I have awakened you, as I will awake the world, and all those within it who are asleep. Your time has come again, and I promise I will not fail you. When you rise, you rise in strength and vitality, for we are one.’

  Foy could not speak, but he heard her words in his mind. ‘My daughters do your work,’ she said. ‘We are with you.’

  ‘You must bring Varencienne and Ellony home.’

  ‘There is no need. Paraga guides them. They will come to you with Khaster Leckery, who is to be your magus, and Shan, who is your champion.’

  ‘Tell me what has happened in Magrast. You must safeguard my son, or set the fire drakes to do it.’

  ‘Your son is guarded by Misk, Jia and Thrope and also the man who is your bard, Tayven Hirantel. The Lady Sinaclara and Darris Maycarpe have been taken captive by the Grand Queen Mother. Gastern rants insane among his counsellors. Soon, the wolves will strike.’

  ‘Take me home,’ Valraven said.

  Everna and Pharinet were speechless with shock. Valraven’s throat was dry and sore. He had talked for hours and yet he no longer felt tired. As if by instinct, Goldvane chose that moment to present himself at the door with a tray of refreshments.

  ‘You know the rest,’ Valraven said, gesturing to Goldvane where he should put the tray. ‘I found myself at the shore and Pharry was there waiting for me.’ He turned to his sister. ‘The tall figure you described to me: I’m sure it led you to find me. It must have been an avatar of Foy.’

  ‘I think that too,’ Pharinet said. ‘I can’t believe all this has happened. We have waited so long.’ She shook her head. ‘Too long.’

  ‘Unfortunately, we cannot sit around congratulating ourselves,’ Valraven said. ‘I must follow Sinaclara’s advice and take our household north at once. I also think we should take the Leckerys with us.’

  ‘My lord?’ Goldvane said with frightened surprise, pausing in the act of arranging cutlery.

  ‘You heard correctly,’ Valraven said. ‘We must leave here. I will explain everything to the staff shortly, but for now I would be grateful if you would meet with Hamsin and begin preparations. Send a messenger to Norgance immediately and tell Saska to do the same. Tell her that the message comes from Khaster.’

  ‘Val!’ Pharinet said, a smile hovering uncertainly around her mouth.

  He shrugged. ‘Well, how else can we get her to move quickly? A little deception is in order, but from what I’ve learned, it’s not too far off the truth.’

  ‘What did Sinaclara mean when she said the darkness would come for you at the old domain?’ Everna asked.

  ‘It means that Gastern has fallen,’ Valraven replied, ‘and that whoever follows him, which I am fair
ly sure will be Bayard, will realise I am a threat, simply because of the belief certain people have invested in me. I am sure that Gastern’s fall will be a trigger for all those who follow Maycarpe’s way. They will begin to put the word about that the heir of Caradore should be the one to take the crown. Bayard will seek to replicate the actions of Cassilin, his ancestor.’

  ‘But Old Caradore is a ruin,’ Pharinet said. ‘How can we defend ourselves there?’

  ‘We must have faith,’ Valraven said, ‘and believe that the elements are on our side. We are meant to win this time.’

  Pharinet stared at him with a strange expression in her eyes. ‘You have decided to be king, haven’t you?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Valraven

  ‘How do you know all this for certain, Val?’

  ‘Because I am awake,’ he replied.

  Chapter Twenty-Six: Flight of the Dragon Heir

  The new Fire Chamber of Magrast was situated in a governmental building annexed to the emperor’s apartments in the palace. As Tatrini took her place, with the morning sunlight falling in benignly through the tall stained-glass windows, she reflected that few people who would take their seats here today knew of the original chamber, nor how the practices and duties of the fire mages had changed over the centuries.

  All of the princes were present, every member of the council, as well as Lord Senefex, who was chairing the meeting, and Archimage Mordryn with his see of mages. Prince Bayard sat beside his mother, and she had instructed him to maintain a low profile during the meeting. No one must suspect he had changed in any way. Gastern was notably absent: the throne used by the emperor looked bleak in its emptiness. And another seat stood vacant: that belonging to the Dragon Lord. Rufus Lorca, Palindrake’s deputy, had been invited, but for reasons of his own had elected not to take the seat of his lord. He was positioned between two veteran generals, who from time to time looked at him askance, perhaps privately reproaching Palindrake for temporarily appointing this young, unseasoned man in his place. But the Dragon Lord could not have foreseen what would happen. Rumours were escalating within the city concerning Palindrake’s continued absence. He might even be dead. And now there were other rumours to contemplate.

  Rinata, as empress, had newly been given a seat in the Chamber. She sat there now, white of face and troubled: not for her husband perhaps, but for herself and her son.

  Once everyone had settled to their places and servants had distributed flagons of water around the table, Senefex got to his feet, placing his palms upon the polished wood. ‘There is no point in temporising. We are here today to discuss a grave matter that affects the very core of the empire. The royal physicians have confirmed that the emperor is suffering from a malady of the spirit. In short, he has lost his mind.’

  A flurry of murmurs swept around the table, and people shifted uneasily in their seats. Rinata put her fingers to her mouth, briefly closed her eyes.

  Senefex raised a hand. ‘This is uncomfortable news, but we must face reality. A number of treatments have been applied during the past week, but the physicians are united in their prognosis. Emperor Gastern’s affliction shows no sign of responding to treatment and in fact his condition is rapidly deteriorating. Unfortunately tidings of his illness have spread through the city. It will not be long before it flies to every corner of the world. For the good of the empire, Gastern must renounce his throne. As he is incapable of making such a decision, we must agree unanimously that it is taken for him by the Fire Chamber. Before we proceed, we must vote on this. Is everyone in accord?’

  Tatrini presumed everyone present must have already ordered their agents to secure any available information on Gastern’s condition. All were aware of the gravity of the situation.

  After a short pause, Mordryn said, ‘Aye!’

  Once the first voice had spoken, everyone else followed suit. Only Rinata remained silent, and no one took any notice of that.

  Senefex nodded once. ‘That is agreed, then. We meet here today to decide upon a course of action that is best for Magravandias. Unscrupulous individuals could seize this moment to cause disruption, and the losers in that scenario will be the Magravandian people themselves. The empire has been a citadel of reason and peace for many generations. We owe it to the people not to decide upon policies that may be beneficial to ourselves but what is best for all. The empire stretches to nearly every corner of the earth. Should our government fall, anarchy will take hold. Petty lordlings will rise to take control, usurping the wise governors, kings and queens who have been part of our empire for years. We cannot let that happen. The emperor is the divine king of the land, a figurehead for the people. He must be replaced, with a man who commands the love and trust of the empire. Stability must be shown to have been restored.’

  General Leatherer, a heavily-bearded man in his late fifties, raised a hand to speak and Senefex inclined his head to indicate permission. ‘As far as succession goes, there is only one decision to be made. Prince Linnard is now the rightful heir to the throne, but is too young to assume such a role. Prince Almorante, as next in line, should therefore be made regent until Linnard achieves his majority.’

  Again, there was a rumble of low voices around the table.

  Almorante got to his feet, without asking permission to speak. ‘That would seem to be the logical course of action. However, we must first discover whether Gastern’s condition is likely to be passed on to his son. If it is my fate to take my father’s place, I will do so with full integrity, but I must speak plainly. It is not my desire to succumb to a condition similar to that of my elder brother.’

  ‘What do you mean by this?’ Mordryn boomed abruptly.

  Almorante’s gaze did not falter as he looked upon the archimage. ‘In all his years, Gastern has not previously suffered from any mental affliction. We must consider whether an outside agency is responsible, an agency that stands to gain from Gastern’s fall.’

  Tatrini was aware that more than a few faces turned surreptitiously towards her. Would anyone dare to accuse her outright? She had to suppress a smile. In this instance, she was entirely innocent. But there was nothing to fear. She knew where Almorante was heading with this, having discussed it with him over breakfast.

  ‘These are dire words,’ Senefex said. He gestured widely. ‘You must voice your suspicions clearly to the Chamber. This is not a time for reticence.’

  Almorante nodded. ‘I am prepared to take that responsibility. I know that in many hearts lies the suspicion that the sons of Leonid are a warring, ambitious rabble, and that any of us here today could be accused of wanting our brother to fall.’ He raised a hand to stem the outbreak of denial. ‘Gastern is not the most popular of us, and it is no secret – even though few dare to voice it – that his accession was regarded by many as a bad day for the empire. But it is not to me, or any of my brethren, that accusing eyes should turn. I will ask only this. Who is not present here today?’

  For a moment, there was silence, which eventually Mordryn broke. ‘There are only two absences, your highness. Emperor Gastern himself and Lord Palindrake. Might I enquire where you are leading us?’

  ‘To an inexorable and perhaps unpalatable conclusion,’ Almorante replied. ‘No doubt everyone in this room will have heard the talk of how Gastern babbled of having been led out of the city by demons. The physicians have personally confirmed to me that his condition resembles that of a person exposed to the miasmas of the fire pits.’

  Mordryn sighed, somewhat theatrically. ‘They are clutching at straws. It is common knowledge that many Splendifer knights have spent time at the fire pits in meditation. None of them have ever come back raving. These are old wives’ tales, the stuff of superstition and ignorance. The worst a man can be affected by the fumes is to be given a sore throat and a pounding headache. If indeed Gastern went to the pits, we can only assume the conditions there exacerbated a pre-existing malady. I am still unsure of what point you are trying to make here.’


  ‘I believe that Gastern was deliberately led to the fire pits by enemies, who exploited his fears and delusions. I believe this was done with the cold understanding that the emperor’s mind would be irreversibly affected, that he would have to be dethroned.’

  ‘And who do you believe did such a thing?’ Senefex enquired.

  ‘Perhaps you should question Commander Lorca,’ Almorante said.

  Senefex raised his hands and his eyebrows and grimaced at Rufus Lorca. ‘Do you have any idea what he means?’

  ‘None,’ Lorca said coldly. ‘I too wait to be enlightened.’

  ‘Clearly we are too stupid to follow your thinking,’ Senefex said in a measured voice to Almorante. ‘Pray stop playing with words and speak what’s on your mind.’

  ‘It has come to my attention that there exists within the empire a clandestine, treasonous movement that aspires to put its own candidate on the throne of Magravandias. In short, that candidate is Valraven Palindrake.’

  At once, several people began to laugh, while others glanced at each other in surprise. The generals virtually snarled at the prince, while Lorca shook his head, uttering, ‘no!’ His face expressed his incredulity and shock.