He needed to deal with this.
“Thus, to safeguard your people, you ensure the right of succession. I understand. Having said that, it occurs to me your Throne may have a different agenda.” Caballa waved at the space.
A wry smile bloomed. “Perhaps.” Definitely.
“It’s realm travel?”
“Yes.”
“What are you going to do?” Again she gestured at the space he kept moving his gaze to.
“Strike a deal?”
“For which grandson?”
He turned his back on the space, and felt the expectancy behind him like a weight of unresolved emotion.
“You have been with them, without my presence influencing behaviour. Who do you think, in your heart, would make the best Vallorin?”
“No, I am not answering.”
He studied her. “Are you attracted to Tristan, Caballa?”
She did not look away. “Of course I am. He is like you.”
He blinked, but did not break the connection. “Do not do that to him.”
“I am not doing anything to him.”
“Ah, he isn’t immune. A good Vallorin he would be, but are you the woman he may choose as mate? A dilemma.”
“Tristan would be a great Vallorin.”
“As Vallorin, you lose him.”
She looked away. “I am not sure that is how I feel.”
Torrullin smiled. “You are wise and beautiful; you would do what is right for the Valleur.”
“I wouldn’t confuse him.”
“I know. What of Teroux and Tian?”
“Teroux is a good man; he would be a kind Vallorin, stirring no waters.”
Torrullin was thoughtful. “That isn’t necessarily a bad thing.”
“Agreed.”
“Tian?” he questioned.
“Young, impulsive, maybe uncontrollable with power, and perhaps an outstanding ruler, one with fire in his veins.”
“A huge risk, would you say?”
“Decidedly.”
He turned from her. To expectancy. “I must take Tian to Digilan before the coronation. I made a promise and it may serve to temper his wilfulness.”
“Or not.”
A chuckle. “Or not.”
“Will you be there for his Coming-of-Age?”
“Yes, and then I aim to take him to his father.”
“AND THIS? HOW IS this situation to affect the Vallorinship?” Caballa stared into the space, seeing and feeling nothing there, but sensing his need to continue with what awaited in silence for him to act.
“I have no idea.” Impatience now threaded into his tone.
Caballa smiled. “Liar. The Throne is with you always; you are Vallorin. You know it better than anyone.”
“I cannot discuss this with you.”
She should be accustomed to Valla secretiveness. “Right. Just watch yourself.”
“I told Saska I want no witnesses to what must come next, but meant she is not to see this.”
She drew breath. “Are you asking me to stand as witness?”
“Validation, in the event something goes wrong.”
Saska would not like it. “Very well.”
“My brave Caballa.”
“Sometimes. Why do you feel courage is involved? Have you not always said the Throne is sentient? It knows you and you know it.”
“Not ‘it’. He. Him. Male.”
“Does he have a name?”
A nod.
“Do you know him?”
“I KNEW HIM ONCE, I think. I am not sure now.” I have been dreaming him and I have seen him in visions. I have heard him speak. I have waited long to see him in reality. And Saska told me his name, but I already knew it. I have always known it. He stared at the space. “Before courage fails me.”
“I am here,” Caballa said.
“Thank you.”
He separated Caballa - and Saska - from his thoughts then, to concentrate. Moments elapsed in silence, moments in which he prepared for an onslaught of emotion.
“Are you there?”
A laugh echoed.
The hairs on Torrullin’s skin rose up. He knew that laugh. He knew it well. It was indeed time. All wishful thinking and every vision and dream led to this particular and profound point. And, yes, life as he knew it changed from this moment. There would be no turning back of any clock. He stepped boldly into the space.
He wanted this. “Come.”
CABALLA STIFLED A GASP as a shadowy presence materialised beside Torrullin and stood facing him. Neither was aware of her and nobody realised Saska returned to stand in the shadows.
She had heard the conversation from the point where Torrullin asked after the grandson best as Vallorin. She would be witness, after all.
“MY LORD TORRULLIN.”
“Eternal Companion.”
Another laugh. “I have a name.”
“Ah. Will you tell me?”
“I do not need to.”
Deep pits of silence opened up, and then Torrullin touched his sword.
SASKA GROANED AS understanding flooded through her. All god, no, not this.
Caballa heard her, but did not take her gaze off the scene.
A SIGH ERUPTED FROM the shadowy form. “Yes, I am already with you, at your side even in sleep.”
Torrullin closed his eyes. “Lumin Sword, Golden Seat of Light - the same?”
“Part of each other.”
Torrullin removed his sword, the legendary Lumin Sword, and handed it hilt first to the shadow form.
“You are Elianas.”
Yes, he named the Sword Elianas in a moment of fury. Elianas, nemesis. And knew then the two were linked. How not?
SASKA SHIVERED.
They were in the White Palace on Valaris, in the cold waiting for the storm to pass to rescue Lycea from Margus’ clutches, and she told him he often called a name out in his sleep. Who was this woman, she asked, tell the truth, and he replied, a man’s name, there was no woman in his dreams. Elianas.
Caballa recalled something Saska once said about someone named Elianas. The one who held Torrullin’s heart. Someone Torrullin dreamed about. Someone who would supersede all when he eventually arrived in their midst.
Both women shivered with foreboding.
“I AM ELIANAS.”
A shadow hand gripped the hilt, lifted the blade and swirled it above his head. The blade danced in the air with grace and mastery, and then the point was lowered to the floor. As it struck, the stone rang.
“Do you hear the stones sing, Enchanter?”
Torrullin blinked. “I do.”
“Is this gift freely given?”
“It is.”
“What is your price?”
“Price?” Torrullin whispered. “How can there be a price on eternal communion? You and I have been together always.”
“I am able to bring the shadows.”
“I know. You are Elianas.”
Silence, and then the form lifted the sword and held it vertically. “You know what to do.”
“I cannot remain Vallorin.”
“Agreed. Not long term. And I cannot remain an inanimate seat.”
Torrullin’s lips quirked. “Inanimate? Really?”
Delighted laughter sounded. “You are cleverer than Nemisin.”
“Someone recently suggested I was Nemisin.”
The shadow man laughed anew. “You - Nemisin? Ah, no, Enchanter, you were never Nemisin. No, no, you were another, not that clown.”
Well. Few described Nemisin as a clown. “Who was I?”
“It is not my place to reveal. Your coming journey holds many truths, maybe that one also.”
The sword remained vertical, unmoving.
Torrullin stared at it and then reached out and clasped his hand over the shadow’s. “What happens to the Throne?”
“Enough remains. It will do its duty as tradition demands and it will be as indestructible as ever.”
“It will choose
a Vallorin objectively?”
“Yes.”
“Then let us do this,” Torrullin said.
“One matter.”
“Yes?”
“I shall accompany you on your journey.”
“Why?”
“I am still Eternal Companion.”
“You are bound to me?”
“We are to each other, much like the entity you accepted into yourself in Grinwallin. Hmm, Eternal Companion, Eternal City?”
“Nemesis and Final Abyss.”
“The convoluted Path of Shades, Animated Spirit.”
“And you are able to bring the shadows.”
“I am pleased you have a working, intricate mind.”
Torrullin gave a wry laugh. “It gets me into trouble.”
“It gets both of us into trouble.”
“I dreamed you. I had visions. I saw you, felt you, spoke to you. I have waited with impatience the last twenty-five years.”
“You heard, yes. Your eyes changed twenty-five years ago, for the last time. Some of our interactions went against the rules.”
“Who made the rules?”
A breath of a laugh. “Touché.” And then, “I wonder how soon you can properly answer that. Who did make the rules?”
A message there, Torrullin realised. “Elianas, is this the time I have been waiting for? And have you been waiting also?”
“Yes, and yes. You already knew that. Are you delaying? Are you not ready?” the shadow presence murmured.
“I am ready.”
“Then it is time.”
Hands tightened together on the Lumin Sword.
Caballa stumbled backwards as absolute darkness enveloped Akhavar.
Saska groaned and clamped her hands over her mouth.
Into the stifling lightlessness came great and monstrous shadows, dancing gleefully all over the world of an ancient time, and then great patches shattered into tiny pieces.
It was terrifying, it was warm and cold simultaneously, it was sharp and soft, wet and dry, slithery and coarse.
“Behold the Shadows, Elixir!”
“My every step is in them, Elianas.”
The voices were disembodied, for form there was no longer in the shattered darkness.
A grinding sound, a rushing echo, and the shadows gathered to reform the dark of no light. Then it shattered again, into a billion points of light, sharp, bright and blinding.
There was only light, light all over the world, and all life cowered in its glare.
A reverberation of runaway buffalo, lion, zebra, panther, wolf, hosts of hooves and paws shook the world, and then the light shattered, and everything was as it was before.
And nothing was as it was before.
SASKA, KNEELING ON the ground, lost her foundations.
Caballa discovered the meaning of fear.
IN THE SACRED SPACE there stood two men.
One was Torrullin; the other was Elianas in form and feature.
He was as tall as Torrullin, as lean, but there the similarity ended. His hair was flowing and dark, his skin held the amber quality of ancient time, and his eyes were a piercing brown, close to black.
The Sword had vanished.
“Light and dark,” Elianas grinned, slapping his hands on Torrullin’s chest.
Torrullin inhaled deeply, and it was unsteady. Finally. By all gods, finally.
He opted then for something mundane to restore balance or he would crumple under the weight of his emotions. “We need to get you clothed. What is your pleasure?”
A beat of silence answered him first; a beat of understanding. “I believe the robes of the nomads. I have had my fill of restriction.”
Torrullin managed a smile and passed his hands over Elianas’ naked arms. A moment later the dark man was clothed in the flowing robes of the desert people.
“Welcome,” Torrullin said.
“You are pleased?”
“I am.”
Elianas smiled, his planed cheeks expressive. “Good.”
He opened his arms and the two men embraced and slapped backs, and let go.
“Gods,” Torrullin said, “how do I explain you?”
“A brother?”
“You are that.”
Elianas stilled. “Thank you.”
Torrullin then noticed Caballa, or more correctly, recalled that she was present, and then lifted his gaze to Saska.
She instantly fled.
“Saska!” he called out, moving to run after her, and stopped. He stared back at Elianas, and could read noting there. Who needed him more in these moments?
“Go,” Elianas murmured. “We have time to come.”
“Caballa, please help him …” Torrullin ran after Saska.
Elianas’ eyes were unreadable as he witnessed that flight.
CABALLA STARED AT THE robed figure. “I think you are dangerous.”
Elianas bowed. “There is only danger on the Path of Shades.”
“How can you be the Throne?”
“I was part of the Throne, seer, not the seat itself. And, know this, that seat is no saint, nor ever was. It has its own identity.”
She looked away. “I begin to understand that.”
Elianas smiled. “It is not all bad.”
“Saska once said you have his heart.”
The smile vanished. “Insightful of her.”
“Does he have yours?” she demanded. “Are you to hurt him? Why were you in a seat? Where does this lead …?”
He held a hand up and then stared at it in fascination. “Real. I am real. Touch is returned. I have missed that, truly.” A moment more and he looked at her again. “Many questions, Caballa of the Valleur. Yes, he has my heart, never doubt that. Am I to hurt him? That depends entirely on him, and how much and how fast he remembers.”
“Remembers what?”
Another smile told her exactly nothing. “He will have to tell you. He will not say much, I think.”
“Why not?”
“What he knows cannot be explained.”
“Can what you know be explained?”
“To him, yes.”
“Who are you?”
Another smile, and he walked towards her. “I am Elianas.”
She stood her ground. “He called you Eternal Companion.”
“Has the Throne not been with the Vallas for near eternity?”
She pointed an accusing finger. “You say you are not the seat.”
“Then we shall have to wait and see how this plays, and how much is shared, will we not?”
TORRULLIN CAUGHT UP WITH Saska in a courtyard. Water sparkled in a pool, a bridge led to a small, pretty island.
“Stay away!” She ran faster and he was forced to reach out and haul her to a stop. “Let go!”
He did so and she stayed where she was, heaving.
“Saska, please.”
She squinted up at him. “Who are you?”
“Many things.”
“Not what - who.”
“I no longer have a semblance of an answer.”
“This journey will make it clearer?”
“You heard?”
“Not enough. Well?”
“Hopefully.”
She lifted her chin. “I ran because I was frightened of you. I have never been frightened of you. I have run from you too long. Love you, hate you, it does not matter; I need to find where I am in who you are. Do you understand, Torrullin? I go with you from this point, wherever, whenever you go.”
“What if Lowen is the one?”
“Nemesis is in the Throne-room, nemesis in your soul. It will be, then.”
He was cold. “You would accept?”
“Not without a fight.”
Cold was replaced with fire. “I look forward to it. From this point on, my wife.”
Fire erupted in her also, but it was tempered by the thought of the man waiting in the Throne-room. She wondered if Lowen even had a chance now, if she, Saska, wife, had one. Elianas
held Torrullin’s heart. He did not know it yet. She wondered if Elianas knew.
HE NEARLY KISSED HER, and backed off, and then laughed. “If this is what happens on a day when the sun does not rise, god help us on a day it refuses to set.”
He forgot her; his thoughts reached out to the dark man in nomadic robes.
It was time to begin anew.
Finally.
Chapter 34
Whoa, sir, is it time for secrets once more? Have you not learned your lesson yet?
~ Tattle
Akhavar
PRIMA WAS AT THE hurried Dome gathering and did not know of Elianas’ arrival.
He did mention what happened on Akhavar regarding the sun, or lack of it, and the presence. Only Belun had an inkling of what it could mean if the Throne took on speech and blood. He did not share his misgivings.
Caballa was sworn to secrecy about Elianas and bid to return to Valaris forthwith.
Saska was commanded to say nothing and gave her word, if reluctantly. With her imminent leaving of the mountain enclave, a new problem arose. Who would be caretaker of Akhavar in her absence?
“I can’t leave this small community alone,” she explained, “especially not if it’s more years than we know of.”
They were in a private chamber removed from the community in the mountain. Elianas paced nearby as husband and wife spoke. He said not a word, and Saska was barely civil when she met him formally. He, however, kissed her hand with a smile, withdrawing immediately after.
Torrullin agreed. “Are you averse to an Elder council here in the interim?”
“That would be perfect. This is a Valleur world.”
“Good. Take your leave and we shall speak with the Elders on Valaris.”
He would make it known Valleur were welcome to settle if they desired a new path. The more Valleur, the safer Nemisin’s bier would be.
She left to speak with the others, leaving the two men with nowhere to hide.
Elianas came to a halt.
Torrullin swore. “It is hard.”
Lore of Sanctum Omnibus Page 34