“The scales have stopped,” Tristan said. “The Void restored us a present we are familiar with, but it also gifted us perfect balance. This will lead ultimately to stasis or anarchy, and appears to be heading towards stasis.”
“Apathy is a step into stasis,” Belun said. “I see. We cease growing, experimenting, inventing, learning and fall into apathy and from there into the death stasis brings to everything. We will accept it, because that is the perception of balance in this present.”
“Exactly. Balance itself is good, but lack of movement is not. We require unbalance to restore that movement. My friends, that is where Torrullin is right now. In unbalance. He seeks to reunite the two.”
“The door on Echolone,” Fuma murmured. “Declan mentioned something about balance and unbalance.”
“Yes, and Declan entered with Torrullin.”
“Trust Elixir to do such a thing,” Erin muttered. “I assume he has run into a snag?”
Lowen spoke. “May I, Tristan?”
“Go ahead.”
“After the Void those of us who had visions in the past were sightless. This was the first indication something went wrong. Then Quilla spoke to Torrullin about the door on Echolone and the important fact that those who didn’t have visions in the past suddenly did. The clear opposite took us to Echolone. You, Erin, had a vision there, while I no longer saw anything.
“Torrullin saw only darkness, as if the future had ceased to exist. The actual deciphering of the Avior glyphs led us to conclusions about balance and unbalance. Torrullin, Elianas, Saska and Declan entered and visions were restored to us. This is a small return to unbalance, a gift in sacrifice, as the Void demanded, but it will not last long.”
“How does Torrullin need us?” Fuma asked.
“Caballa and I see what is beyond the door,” Lowen said. “We think they are trapped.”
“Torrullin can’t be trapped,” Belun said. “He can figure anything out. By god, he will shatter the realm if necessary.”
“He has no power, Belun,” Tristan said.
Belun stared. “Impossible.”
Tristan shook his head. “I have conferred with the Syllvan. It is possible and, further, they have changed state. They are no longer matter; they are energy. And they are within the Path of Shades.”
“Did you ask about Elianas’ power?” Quilla asked.
Tristan nodded. “And stumped them.”
Quilla sighed.
Belun rose. “Who is this Elianas?”
Tristan hung his head.
“He was on the journey through Time?” Fuma questioned.
Tristan straightened. “Torrullin will probably have my head for discussing him. Hell, even the Valleur Elders don’t know of him yet.”
“I think you had better tell us,” Erin said.
“Elianas is an Ancient. In fact, he was Torrullin’s apprentice during the time of Nemisin. He is a dark Valleur, a master sorcerer, an enchanter and more, like Torrullin. They are brothers, bound by power, family connections and a history so long we cannot begin to imagine it. Simply, Torrullin forgot his Ancient status, and Elianas went into hiding, in the Valleur Throne.
“I assume the Throne was a way to bring them together in a time they were both needed. We could argue we tweaked with Time and thus influenced the Void and its outcome, which led to the Path of Shades and the current predicament. Elianas has retained, apparently, a form of power that might influence energy, and yet it may take too long to help Declan and Saska.
“I want to help my grandfather from this mess not because I think he cannot help himself, but because I do not want to see the man who emerges after his friend Declan has succumbed. I particularly do not want to meet the man who loses his wife in there.”
Lowen rubbed at her brow and inhaled a mighty breath.
Erin sighed. “How can we help, Tristan?”
Quilla murmured, “I do not think we can.”
Tristan said, “I refuse to believe that.”
“What did the Syllvan say about using a Tracloc?” Quilla asked.
“It isn’t a good idea.”
“Did you speak to Tymall?”
“I was warned not to tell him,” Tristan replied.
“Ah, the threat of Digilan,” Quilla murmured. “Tymall will move worlds to help his father.”
“But not Saska,” Lowen said.
Erin’s head moved from one to the other. “You have been aware of this situation for some time. The Kaval, it seems, is last resort.”
Tristan murmured, “Not intentionally.”
“Torrullin will hate that we discuss this,” Lowen murmured. “That is why. He will hate particularly that we have spoken of Elianas.”
“Is Elianas that important?” Erin frowned.
Tristan scratched an eyebrow, Lowen looked away and Quilla sighed.
“Ah, say no more,” Belun said.
Fuma leaned on the slab, frowning at Tristan. “What is it you think we can do to help?”
“We need to know how the Path of Shades operates.”
“Only a familiar can tell you,” Fuma said.
Tristan’s eyes lifted to Lowen. “Torrullin said you know the Path.”
“I don’t know about know, but I have experienced it.”
Erin craned past Fuma. “Really?”
“Reincarnation. But, but. I didn’t reincarnate the way Torrullin did, not via birth. I merely flitted in and out enough times to claim a seven times born state, which has the drawback of bringing on the Path. I suspect Elianas did as I did, flitted in and out, but we had to do it more than seven times to claim true immortality. Elianas, of course, wouldn’t regard the Path of Shades as a drawback …”
“Enough, Lowen,” Tristan snapped. “We are not here to dissect him.”
She inclined her head. “Someone should dissect him.”
“Lowen. The Path.”
“Fine. What can I tell you? That it is as its name suggests? It is, but multiply what your imagination conjures a hundred fold. That you need duality to negotiate the ways? Indeed you do, or it will take your life or, in Torrullin’s case, whatever sanity he has left …”
“Lowen!”
“Sorry, but it peeves me he did something this stupid.”
“You were prepared to go in with him,” Tristan pointed out.
Quilla said, “This is not helping.”
Lowen took a breath. “The Path as I know it tells us nothing. I haven’t walked, merely seen it.”
“Is it an actual place?” Fuma questioned. “I always thought it was a description of the soul’s dilemma.”
“Well, it is that,” Lowen said. “Apparently, it’s a real part of Reaume also, which I was unaware of. Torrullin, blast him, probably knew.”
“Can you access the Path?” Tristan asked.
She licked dry lips. “I wouldn’t dare.”
“Can it be done?” he insisted.
“Of course it can be done, but, Tristan, firstly, I have no experience, and, second, they are not inside, they are within. Not even a Tracloc can do so. Damn it, you know I would do this if I had the knowledge.”
“Inside, within?” Belun frowned.
Tristan explained the concept as Caballa explained it to him, using the straw and the ant.
“Good god, man,” the Centuar blurted at the end of it, “we must get them out of there.”
Tristan spread his hands.
Belun set to a furious pacing. He snapped to Erin. “What of doorways?”
“This wouldn’t be a doorway. It would be a flaw, and finding a flaw, whether from within or without? It’s almost impossible, more accident than deliberate.”
Belun pointed an accusing finger. “You said ‘almost’.”
She was thoughtful and glanced at Tristan. “Amunti’s mother Amdel is conversant in shifts, flaws and the like. When we were investigating a way in to find Lowen, she told me one couldn’t find a doorway, it presents itself when you are ready for it. Look and ye shall f
ind.”
“They are looking, Erin,” Tristan murmured.
“Yes, damn it, you must have something better than that,” Belun said.
Erin ignored the Centuar. “The way out will be there when they are ready, but perhaps they do not determine readiness, Tristan. We are discussing the Path of Shades here and I doubt the rules are the same. Further, if it’s true unbalance, then every law we govern ourselves by has no sway there. Even if we did enter and even if there was a doorway, we can’t open it. We would be working from balance. Where is the bridge?”
Tristan rubbed at his cheeks and then swung into motion. “This was a waste of time.”
“I told you we had to wait,” Quilla murmured.
Lowen hurtled up. “Well, I agree with Tristan. We must be able to do something. They have no power, food, no way out …”
“There is,” Fuma said.
Belun paced nearer and, with him, Tristan.
Fuma stood. “You say they are energy, not matter?”
Tristan nodded.
“Then there is something we could do.”
Quilla, tiny birdman, hopped onto the slab to see the Deorc properly. “How?”
“Erin mentioned bridge,” Fuma murmured, “and it put me in mind of how energy can be joined. A bridge between two flows, right?” He paused to look at Tristan again. “This Elianas can influence energy?”
“We think so. Nothing is certain.”
“I think he might be Alhazen.”
Quilla cheeks puffed out. “Oh. I understand.”
“I don’t,” Tristan snapped. “Explain.”
Fuma said, “The legend of Alhazen is old, and tells of a man who is more than matter, one who controls flows of energy. They say he breathes to create new space.” He paused. “He uses as fuel the senses of touch, sight, smell, taste - Elixir’s abilities.”
Tristan stared at him. Everyone else was silent.
Fuma drew breath. “In the Path he will build bridges and every span will join two flows, forming connections and, eventually, direction. I see now how they would escape, but it would take too much time for those who would succumb to the pressures. Energy compresses and expands and, to flow with it, one would need fuel, which you say they do not have, or Elixir does not.”
Quilla murmured, “His internal fuel cannot disappear.”
“Ah.” Fuma frowned. “I need Jonas in here.”
Tristan glanced at Belun, who strode to the console to send the call.
“Why Jonas?”
“The man is a boffin with hidden information,” Fuma murmured. “I want him to ferret through that machine of his to find the fastest and most effective way of creating an energy field to pull all flows to it.”
“Gods, Fuma, that will pull everything, not only the thing within the Path!” Erin gasped.
He looked at her. “They need a second to have direction clearly established.”
“It’s too risky!”
“Do it,” Tristan commanded, and paced to the console.
Lowen and Quilla looked at each other and both headed to the computers.
“Fuma, it’s dangerous,” Erin muttered.
“My dear, I prefer danger to a slow death by apathy, and I certainly would rather face this than the wrath of Elixir after he has lost his wife.”
Erin was silent and then jerked her head in agreement, and joined Lowen and Quilla. When Jonas sauntered in, a smile on his face, Fuma took him and marched him directly to the machines also and set him to ferreting with a barely decent explanation.
“TRISTAN, HOW DID this happen? I mean, all of it,” Belun asked at the console.
Tristan, watching as the others got down to serious work, said, “It was for Torrullin, the whole thing. He deliberately set out to forget who and what he is, over a betrayal. At least, that’s the reason that makes sense to me at this point. Lowen fell into the Time realm because Torrullin set it up a long time ago. Not for Lowen specifically, but himself. It was meant to return him his memory, and the journey certainly brought it about.”
“How did he … you know?”
“Gods, Belun, he was immediately different. He was strong. That is the only word to describe him. Strong. We were weak, like nothing, compared to what lay in those eyes. It was frightening; actually. I was afraid of him then, really afraid. Not of my grandfather, but the power he stood for.”
“And Lowen, Orb, all that?” Belun moved on.
“Lowen was the catalyst to recall, but she was never in danger other than having to relive ages already passed. The Orb scenario was seeking of redress, until we realised it would change everything. Looking on it now, I begin to see it was a ploy to get Torrullin to a place where he could easily accept memory’s return. Not a deliberate ploy, perhaps, but an intrinsic manipulation where memory could return where and when it was lost.”
“Ah,” Belun sighed.
“Yes, easier to deal with. Elianas may have had a hand in it. This whole realm travel thing was for Torrullin and Elianas. They needed to return, but to what eventual purpose, I cannot say. This unbalance trap was unforeseen, an accident even they did not know about.”
“Maybe Elianas did.”
“I doubt it.”
“He was in the Throne? Torrullin always claimed it was sentient.”
Tristan smiled. “Now we know why.”
“How did he exit?”
“Torrullin used the Lumin Sword on Akhavar, the site of Nemisin’s rulership.”
“Before or after memory?” Belun frowned.
“Before. Torrullin thought Elianas was the Throne’s sentience given form. The rest came later.”
“Rest?”
“That is a whole other tale. When you meet Elianas, by god, you will know what I mean. To ill or joy, Torrullin and Elianas are now a team.”
“Has Elianas power besides this energy thing?”
“They are equal, Belun, in every way.”
The Centuar stared at him. “By god, then they are at war.”
“You understood that faster than I did.”
“Do you trust Elianas?”
“Not entirely, but I like him. He is … interesting.”
“I didn’t know there were dark Valleur.”
“Not dark as in outside the Light; dark as in colouring. Hair, eyes, amber rather than gold skin. The fact they are extinct is due to the betrayal I spoke of, but let us not go there. The Valleur have been vilified enough through the ages.” Tristan glanced again at the busyness before the row of computers. “What do you know about energy?”
Belun moved from the console and headed to the Dragon ogive. Bemused, Tristan followed him.
“I can’t enter this space, Tristan.” Belun pointed to the one beside it, which happened to be Quilla’s. “Nor that one. You can’t use mine. Why? Because each has been set to read a signature, and signature, my friend, is pure energy. The parameters that determine these ogives are based on our unique energy readings - our output, if you will. The Dome as a whole works the same, as does every feat of sorcery. Sorcery is energy manipulated. Now, let us say you and I desire to deploy an enchantment that would work better when two labour at it, how do we do so? We join, either by touch or will, and thus we combine our energy to achieve a greater result. We create a bridge.”
Belun paced backward to stare up at the vaulted arches.
“They are so lovely,” he whispered. “I barely look at them anymore.” He shrugged, turning to Tristan. “Each of these arches is unique, yet the whole is the bridging mechanism, which is the Dome. What Fuma intends to do, understand this, could destroy this sacred space, for this energy will automatically reach out to a greater source. Presently the Dome is the greater source.”
Tristan nodded, anxiety curling in his gut.
Belun smiled at him. “Have no fear. Torrullin once destroyed the Dome and then brought it back. Bring him out whole and the Kaval would soon be back in business. Now to answer your underlying question.”
He leaned
against the space between two ogives and folded arms across a mighty chest. “Two can create a bridge, at least two. One can manipulate, but it requires two to build something more. Torrullin’s power manipulates energy, but so swiftly now he never leaves a signature. He doesn’t create bridges; he doesn’t need to. He is faster in his manipulation as a singular entity - a joining slows him. Periodically he uses another’s energy, but that is a factor of loneliness. He may not admit it, but that is how he makes contact with others without revealing himself.”
Tristan threaded a hand through his hair. “I see.”
“If Elianas is able create bridges alone, I would be worried. Personally, I don’t know much about the state, yet I would assume the will required must be a mighty one. To use an example, imagine an electric light standing on that slab. It isn’t plugged into a source of power, yet you could switch it on, cause it to light, merely by manipulating energy. You could then look away and it would go on … for a while. When you leave this space, the source of its power goes with you.
“It would be the same for me and it would be also for Torrullin. He, of course, would employ enchanter magic to create a globe and not use the lamp at all, its endurance being too limited, but were he to light the lamp, the rules would be the same for him. Elianas, on the other hand, would light it and it would continue burning until he turned it off. It would throw its glows long after he left this space, and it would do so even if the globe bursts, the slab disintegrates and this space vanishes. He is not the manipulator, but the source, the flow, the director …”
Tristan frowned. “Belun, that sounds much like the great cavern inside Cèlaver. Torrullin created it magically two thousand years ago and then forgot about it. It goes on and he hasn’t again interfered or added to its upkeep.”
“The principle is close, but understand this. Torrullin walked away, he separated the enchantment from himself - he set it adrift. It is now autonomous and it has grown and thrived in its way until it is now unique to itself. It is no longer Torrullin’s.”
“Ah, I get where you are headed.”
“I’ll say it anyway. If my understanding of someone conversant in energy is correct, Elianas retains control always. He holds the power of destruction or fertility over that same cavern, or would if he were the creator. He is not merely the bridge builder, he is the bridge.” Belun shrugged as he pushed away from his leaning post. “That is how I see it, but I’m not an expert, none of us are. Only this Elianas can tell you the real truth.”
Lore of Sanctum Omnibus Page 87