“Why?” Halon dared. He now possessed a healthy fear of the man beside him. Tannil, whether benign or bent on vengeance, was not a friend, could never be a friend. He had seen the emptiness in the man’s golden eyes.
“Why? To fool certain individuals. A few moments of uncertainty, that is all; a few moments in which to act decisively.”
Halon nodded. It made sense, and who was he to question? He bent to the task and lifted the smaller of two engraving tools.
“How long?” Tannil asked.
“Should be ready by morning.”
A hand descended to Halon’s shoulder. “Good. I shall return at first light.”
Avaelyn
THE DWELLING WAS IN full sunlight. Bright colours washed through the garden; the forest lit for festivity beyond. World-hopping played with the senses, Elianas muttered to himself as he alighted upon the little bridge over the fishpond. Darkness in Grinwallin, sunlight here. At this point he preferred darkness.
He entered through the sitting area and discovered only silence. Halting to listen, he cocked his head and concentrated. Silence everywhere. Torrullin was absent.
Thank the gods.
Breathing out, he ambled through the corridor leading ultimately to the kitchen. He needed a strong mug of the dark stuff; the Senlu red possessed a potency he had underestimated.
He discovered the real reason for encompassing silence in the kitchen.
Torrullin, out cold, upon the floor.
Elianas fell to his knees and placed a hand on the fair man’s brow. Cold. A feeling of dread settled into his gut and he moved his hand to the man’s neck. Nothing. He pressed in. Nothing. Nothing?
Quilla!
The birdman appeared a mere instant later, clearly reacting to the tone of summons, and fell to his knees. He quested as Elianas had.
“When?” he demanded.
“Cannot be more than minutes,” Elianas said hoarsely.
“Then there is still time. Help me. We take him to the Dome.”
The birdman maintained contact with Torrullin’s brow, a skin to skin connection. Elianas gripped Torrullin’s nearest hand, another skin to skin connection. Bearing their burden between them for a transport through the spaces, they vanished from there.
A man stepped from the shadowy recess that was the pantry, a satisfied smile upon his lips.
“Torrullin, you make it too easy,” Tannil murmured to himself.
The Dome
BELUN WAS WIDE-EYED when they brought Torrullin into the Gatherers’ Circle to release him upon the marble slab.
Quilla shooed both him and Elianas away, and commenced gesturing and muttering. Swiftly the first wisps of green vapour formed. This was Q’lin’la healing.
“What happened?” Belun demanded of the dark man.
“I have no bloody idea; I found him like that.” Elianas fixated upon the still form, although soon green vapour entirely obscured him.
“You could not heal him?”
“I cannot raise the dead, Centuar.”
“Dead … what? That’s not possible!”
Elianas managed to look away from the swirling green cloud. “No pulse, no heat. How? Wish I …” Abruptly he looked up. “Is it safe?”
Belun’s eyes narrowed. “What would you be referring to?”
“The keystone.”
“Damn it, of course it’s safe! Who cares right now? How could that happen to him? Who did this? Should I recall Tristan and Caballa? They were just here.”
Elianas moved slowly to face the Centuar eye to eye. “No, let’s deal with this a personality at a time. Tell me, Belun. If you had before you the power of absolute choice, who would you choose to rule the universe? Not rule as in enforce will upon others, but rule as in marking the time for sentience. A Timekeeper, in other words.”
The Centuar eyeballed him right back. “And who do I have to choose between?”
Elianas lifted an eyebrow.
“Ah.” Belun did not break the contact. “You no doubt have a good reason for this odd question. Fine, an answer. My heart would have it be Torrullin. My mind would have it be you.”
Elianas looked away. “It does not help me.”
“Why can’t it be both of you?”
“We cause too much havoc as a team, that is why. Something Lowen said. Tell me, why the qualification of heart and mind?”
The Centuar ambled over to the console. Resting his hands upon it and staring down at the four lights, he said, “My heart would have it be Torrullin probably because I love him and want ultimate status for him. My mind says it would be bad for him, that kind of power, and thus it should be you.”
“Bad?”
Belun looked up. “From what I hear tell, being a Timekeeper isn’t the easiest job and it is kind of lonely. You, I believe, can deal with both difficulty and loneliness. I do not think he can.”
Elianas swirled his tongue around his mouth. “And what do you believe makes us different enough to qualify it in such a manner?”
“Emotion,” the Centuar replied. “He feels way too much.”
“And by extension I feel too little?”
“This is a minefield, but you asked.”
“I feel, Belun.”
“But you have experience in containing reaction. You keep it apart. You are apart from what you feel.”
Elianas was expressionless. “So that is how you all see me.”
“Can you deny what you project?”
After a moment, the dark man shook his head.
“Neither of you can be Timekeeper, you know,” Belun said. “It does not fit and I do not care what Lowen says. I assume she said something about what must happen after we deal with this Tannil character, but there is another road.”
Unmoving, Elianas stared at the Centuar.
“Tristan.”
Silence answered.
“He is perfect. Young still in years to be idealistic, but very much immortal. He will not accept Vallorinship, even were he in the line of succession. Thus no ties to the Valleur. He and Caballa probably will not have children and therefore, one day soon, he will be alone. She will pass on and he will accept it and move forward, probably never again committing himself. I believe he will then begin the search for the one factor that gives a long life meaning, and perhaps being Timekeeper will do it for him.”
Elianas tapped two fingers upon his chin.
“Therein may lay your dual noble purpose, Alhazen. Yours and Elixir’s. Stepping aside from destiny for the good of all.”
Elianas bent over hands on knees, hyperventilating.
“Struck a nerve, did I?”
Still bent, Elianas nodded.
“Good. Think on it. Maybe you can stop tying yourself into knots.”
“Elianas!” the birdman called.
Elianas straightened and strode past the Centuar to enter the vapour.
Torrullin’s eyes were open and when he saw Elianas he stretched his left hand out. Fingers entwined, gripped.
“Hold on,” Quilla murmured. “He needs the energy.”
Elianas nodded, wordless.
Torrullin’s eyes closed, but he did not relinquish the grip. “A manifestation from the Path of Shades leeched me of fuel,” he murmured. “That is where you went, isn’t it? With Lowen?”
“Yes.”
“Stupid of you.”
“Obviously.”
“He dragged the shield over Avaelyn askew and got to me.”
“Tannil?”
“He did not even give me a chance to speak.” Torrullin’s eyes snapped open and he intensified his hold on Elianas’ hand. “He is more dangerous than we suspected.”
New dread settled into the dark man’s gut.
A storm will destroy the dwelling and he will curse you for a long time. Lowen’s words to him upon the sands of Xen III. She omitted to state she would be part of the destruction. Their absence this day gifted a dangerous Timekeeper the ability to infiltrate Avaelyn. Beyond all doubt, Tann
il was, in these moments and minutes of the healing of Torrullin, become the storm of destruction.
“What is it?” Torrullin murmured, harking to the emotions in a grip of hands.
“Avaelyn.”
They stared at each other.
“You should go.”
Elianas shook his head. “I think it is already too late.”
Torrullin closed his eyes and turned his head aside. He did not speak further or react in any other manner, but he maintained the grip. To heal he required fuel.
Elianas stared down, his thoughts a-swirl.
The traitor inside Grinwallin’s dungeon had revealed who would receive Avaelyn as payment for services rendered if Emperor Teighlar were to come to a fall as they, the conspirators, had hoped. He named Teroux Valla. The conspirators had not yet approached Teroux, but hoped his enmity with his grandfather and Elianas would aid him in choosing a side, their side. It never came to pass and the suggestion was not put to him.
Now none of it mattered … or did it? Always there was resonance. Tannil, after all, was Teroux’s father, and Tannil had a massive vengeance bone clamped firmly between his teeth.
All gods help them now.
Avaelyn
A TIMEDANCER SPLIT THE strands.
He saw hexagons in spheres and rectangles in spirals. He heard time as a tick-tick-tick in the fabric of vacuum. Every contradiction had a place and all was in sync with the stones of the ether.
It did not make sense.
It made every kind of sense.
Tannil smirked as he bowed over his hands in the geographic centre of the stone dwelling upon Avaelyn. It was a circular tower topped with a pyramid carved from an emerald. Hidden from view amid the rocks of the mountain behind, it allowed green light to filter through into a darker region of the natural dwelling.
Perfect.
He closed his eyes and whispered upon the silence. He entwined his fingers to form the lattice of coercion and blew gently upon the rising manipulation he cupped between his palms.
Too easy, Torrullin. I wish you were less involved with your emotions and more in tune with the factors of time and sorcery; that would be a challenge worth pursuing.
Ah, well. Sometimes easy was best.
Tannil undid his hands and raised them to the pyramid overhead. A final whisper sounded. A new smile flitted. Of gratification.
Then he was gone from there.
The home of Torrullin and Elianas exploded.
The Dome
BELUN ENTERED THE VAPOUR.
“I overheard you mention Avaelyn, trained the sensors that way.” He came to halt beside Elianas, looking down on Torrullin.
The man did not move.
“Tell us,” Elianas said.
“The dwelling is gone.”
There was no reaction from either man and thus the Centuar tapped on the slab a few times and then retreated in silence.
Quilla was motionless on the other side, blue eyes going from one to the other. Pursing his lips, he eventually swung away and left the privacy of the vapour. As he went it dissipated.
“It is done,” he said.
Torrullin pulled free from the connection with Elianas, and stood. He stared a moment at the dark man before heading to the Dragon ogive.
It chimed and he was gone.
Elianas twitched as if slapped.
Quilla sighed, and wondered why he felt detached from everything, as if he in fact operated as a sliver rather than a whole being.
Grinwallin
LOWEN DALRISH ROCKED SLIGHTLY at the edge of the colossal abyss flanking Grinwallin to the north.
This was the void where Torrullin released the Dragon Taliesman to protect Luvanor from future harm. Mists swirled in the darkness below. A raven cawed in the silent trees on the far side of the crevasse.
She sought a new vision, one that would have her approach Torrullin with fresh hope. Avaelyn, she knew, was special to him, more so than to Elianas. Avaelyn was a part of Torrullin’s soul.
She saw nothing.
Only swirling mist.
Valaris
Linmoor
“TIME TO JOIN YOUR colleagues, Halon. Go to Luvanor.”
The new Elder nodded.
“Thank you for your efforts here. I shall summon you when the next action is taken. I promise you your justice, friend.”
Halon simply nodded again. He no longer believed it the right road, not with this man in control. Glyph after glyph engraved by his shaking hand had reminded him of the Valleur legend, of an illustrious past and the promise of a brilliant future, of his belief in the Light. Lumin kindred, that was what they were, the Valleur, and it included Torrullin Valla. For certain, the man needed to accept accountability, but did not deserve absolute punishment.
He dared not voice his thoughts, however.
Perhaps his fear of the man was what truly swayed him from vengeance, not a deep-seated change of heart.
“This will do well,” Tannil said as he threaded the replica Medaillon onto a golden chain that was itself a duplicate of the one Torrullin wore around his neck. “Go now with my appreciation.”
Halon nodded and left the region.
Had he looked back through the spaces he would have witnessed Samuel Skyler Valla’s farm and history vanish in a puff of dust.
The sun’s first rays sparkled upon the motes dancing like sprites in the air.
Chapter 8
There is no true clarity in thought, for we are selfish creatures.
~ Awl ~
Snowscape
CLARITY.
Best achieved in the cold.
Best achieved without magical shields. Nothing to engender warmth other than what one wore and what one thought about.
Torrullin raided the expedition store on Kora City’s main road for gear, leaving sufficient coin behind to cover what he appropriated in the middle of the night. Hopefully Xen’s peacekeeper force would regard it as due compensation; if not, he would explain himself to Max Dalrish another time.
After donning clothes suitable for snow and ice in one of Kora’s many public parks, he hefted a backpack, settled the weight upon his shoulders, and transported out.
Thank all gods for his lack of signature.
THE PHYSICAL ACTION REQUIRED to erect a tent upon snow in icy blasts of wind kept introspection at bay for some while.
When completed, there was little to do but huddle upon a sleeping bag in a small space buffeted by the gale outside.
Every thought crowded in.
Torrullin thought back to the times he confronted Margus, Darak Or. It began with the dara-witch Infinity’s game, a board of pieces which served to uncover Valaris’ sacred sites. It also released Vannis from voluntary entombment and led to his own reawakening as Torrullin from his Rayne persona.
Margus in the system of caves within the Steps of the Meth Peninsula. Clawing through the rock of a mountain to escape his vile manipulation, to save Saska and Lanto, with the blue Falcon Phet with them. Margus and himself on Aqua Island as a volcano shuddered and spit in the background. The resultant tidal wave led to broken bones and the extinction of the Darkling Horde out in the Western Isles. Margus kidnapping Lycea and their unborn child. It led to the Three Voices and the Eastern Range falling into the sea. The Three Voices subsequently employed with full intent atop the Corridor Mountains while the Pillars of Fire burnt life to cinders below, including, eventually, Margus’ mortal remains.
A mere twenty-odd years later Margus returned, at first in the guise of Tymall, then as himself with Tymall his protégée. Taranis died after the first confrontation. Margus shielded in Galilan Hospital, nursing a broken nose. Margus using his, Torrullin’s, healing hands against him. Margus, himself and Vannis into the realms beyond death. He only had Margus to rely on in the Flatland, a time of terrible haste, a time he began to finally understand the Darak Or.
The return to Valaris, Margus at his side, bound, after a two thousand year absence. Tannil’s re
ign as Vallorin was then, and it was also the time Tymall arose as the Warlock bent on murdering every Valla. Margus’ mutilation of Tymall, dying in the process. An end to their years of strife.
Years of complication now viewed as years of simple confrontation given what came next.
He still missed the goddamn man.
His thoughts moved to Tymall.
Tymall stepped into the breach left by Margus. At the end of a murder spree only the three Valla boys - Tristan, Teroux and Tianoman - and Samuel Skyler survived to rebuild the Valla legacy for the Valleur.
He thought of Tymall the babe, an innocent trapped by the omission of recognition. Tymall the youngster hiding in Tristamil’s goodness, his twin protecting him. Tymall hurting Saska until he drove her from Valaris, which led to Saska becoming the Lady of Life. Tymall as vessel for Margus. Tymall as Warlock. Tymall kidnapping Saska - and Margus, before the mutilation - and holding her captive in the horrid castle on a sterile world. Tymall and Fay, Tannil’s sister. Tymall as father of Tianoman; Tymall in Digilan. And Tymall disgusted by the very presence of Elianas; the confrontations in Lethe that led to him seizing Elianas to make him less. Elianas killed him and he, Torrullin, sundered Digilan. He also released his Shadow Wings to save his son, a clear betrayal of Elianas, when it added up, for Tymall used it to survive his murder.
Now it was finished. Years of horrific and complicated confrontation, over. Tymall lay buried in an unmarked grave after his final attempt at supremacy in the blue sphere that was nowhere in time and space.
Torrullin did not yet miss this son. Perhaps with time it would come; now there was only relief and no more.
Unfortunately Tymall’s final attempt heralded the return of Tannil. And thus his thoughts moved to that man.
Tannil, Man of Words. Also Tannil, son of Skynis, Elianas’ grandson. Then and now brought together in the Tannil of the present.
The Tannil Torrullin knew after his return from the Flatland had been a good, if uncertain, man. Tannil believed himself in the shadow of his legendary grandfather and was thus unable to stand forth and be counted. As Vallas were murdered - his mother Mitrill, Caltian, his wife Vania - he gradually lost his grip on his sanity, until his state led to the Gauntlet. Tannil, Vallorin of the Valleur, died, his soul shattered into tiny pieces. That Tannil blamed Tymall first for his shocking demise and therefore it felled Tymall in the nowhere space.
Lore of Sanctum Omnibus Page 193