Lore of Sanctum Omnibus

Home > Other > Lore of Sanctum Omnibus > Page 226
Lore of Sanctum Omnibus Page 226

by Elaina J Davidson


  Torrullin placed his hand over his heart. “It will be done.”

  “Then one day you may discover me walking amid an ancient forest and we shall then discuss matters of a more philosophical nature.”

  Torrullin bowed and did not care who thought what about it.

  The man smiled, aware of how it had to appear to the others.

  Straightening, Torrullin asked, “Do you have a name?”

  “Names are given only when all hope is lost and accusation takes its place.”

  Ah. That was how he knew Della’s name, but not the Lady of Valaris’. Torrullin inclined his head. “A true name sets one free.”

  “And you do not want me free of this world, hmm?”

  No, therein lay only disaster.

  The man bowed. “It has been a pleasure.” He remained bowed. “When I straighten, all here will go with me.”

  “You did this,” Torrullin breathed. “Thank you.”

  “Moments, Lord Sorcerer.”

  Torrullin, without preamble, shouted, “Say farewell now!”

  Elianas jerked to him and immediately drew Valeri close.

  Tianoman flew into his mother’s arms.

  The man straightened, dark eyes smiling and the visitors to Kalgaia dissipated.

  In the resultant silence, Tianoman’s weeping was the only sound.

  Chapter 43

  Do not underestimate the element Fire. Even the tiny flame flickering in a dish is hungry. Fire is heat, fire is spark, flare, a destroyer and creator. Remember always, it is the most ravenous element there is.

  ~ The Truth About Elements ~

  Avaelyn

  AFTER A HARROWING AND impromptu conclave in the Throne-room where all new knowledge was shared, they left Tianoman to finish it.

  The Vallorin was red-eyed, but calm.

  Elianas sat at the kitchen table, hands wrapped around a coffee mug. It was empty; it had been empty a while. He stared into space.

  “Far-reaching consequences,” he muttered unexpectedly.

  Torrullin, sitting with an empty tumbler - after four downed brandies - lifted his head. “What?”

  “We do things, Torrullin, without always considering the consequences.”

  “These consequences were and are good.”

  “Sometimes they are not.”

  Torrullin shrugged. “No use examining it after the fact.”

  Elianas sighed. “True.” He frowned at his empty mug and shoved it aside. Standing, he said, “Tomorrow we need to mark the trees the gardening team may transplant.”

  “There is no need. They will know what to take and what to leave. We have other priorities.”

  Elianas snatched Torrullin’s glass and decanted brandy into it. Throwing it down his throat, he said, “Such as?”

  Torrullin closed his eyes and lowered his head onto his arms on the table. “I do not know. I cannot think straight.”

  Fingers dug into his shoulders soon after. It was bliss.

  “Sleep is our first priority,” Elianas murmured from behind.

  This time Elianas cradled Torrullin in his arms, sensing his need for utter oblivion, his unreserved exhaustion.

  IN THE MORNING, everything changed again.

  Tristan hurtled into their sleeping space, shouting loud enough to bring the heavens down upon them.

  As the two men were wrenched from sleep, one word stood out.

  FIRE!

  “Where?” Torrullin asked.

  “Here! Avaelyn is burning!” Tristan nearly screamed it.

  In a flurry of motion they were not only up, but dressed. No words were required. When Tristan saw they were ready, he vanished, and they followed his signature.

  THE BLAZE HAD NOT yet reached the forests, but flame hungrily devoured the grasslands.

  Near the Healer’s Facility, Elianas sank to his knees.

  “Can you?” Torrullin asked.

  The dark man sent him an irritated glance and stretched his right arm out. Light poured from his fingers.

  “Krenin viu tremmen Avaelyn! Viu folian Danae! Gratutin!”

  All flames snuffed.

  Elianas clambered to his feet, his face as stone. “It is time to see to Teroux.”

  Sanctuary

  TEROUX PACED HIS LIBRARY.

  He ceased the instant Elianas strode in with Torrullin on his heels. Elianas had no thought for anything and anyone but Teroux, but Torrullin noticed the books on the shelves. Not many, but clearly Teroux had started collecting and reading again. He had no opportunity to investigate the material, however, for Elianas had Teroux by the scruff of his neck.

  “I can’t stop him!” Teroux screeched, scratching at the grip at his windpipe. “He’s using our connection!”

  Elianas threw the younger man into an armchair. “Isn’t he doing exactly what you want? Why are you so frantic?”

  Holding his throat, Teroux stared up. “I thought this is what I wanted, but he’s destroying everything. I didn’t sign up for that.”

  “Sever the connection,” Torrullin suggested from where he leaned against the far wall.

  Teroux’s eyes were stark with denial, but he nodded immediately. “Yes, do that.”

  Inhaling, Elianas hunkered before the young Valla. “Why is that a better option for you now?”

  “I felt how much he took from you, so much energy.” Scrubbing his golden hair into disarray, Teroux muttered, “I don’t want an empty vessel.”

  The dark man gave a lop-sided smile. “You are finally learning.” Standing, he gestured for Teroux to stand. “I will now sever our binding.”

  Blinking crazily, Teroux stood unsteadily, his gaze fixated on the dark man.

  Elianas clenched and unclenched his fists.

  “Quickly, Elianas, please. He’s up to something. He told me big water, but I don’t know where.”

  Torrullin whistled a breath, straightening.

  Swiftly then, blue tendrils appeared to surround Teroux. Elianas lifted one hand and pulled. The tendrils formed a rope, and bled into his palm to vanish there. “It is done.”

  Teroux slumped, misery leaking from every pore upon his body. He stared at the carpeted floor and did not otherwise move.

  “Big water can only mean floods,” Torrullin stated into the silence.

  Elianas swore. “Which means Sanctuary.”

  “Exactly. Teroux,” Torrullin prompted. “Get your arse into gear and head for Mariner Island. Folk may need you soon. Teroux!”

  The young Valla looked up and he nodded.

  “And, Teroux, make up your mind one or the other,” Torrullin issued, before heading out onto the lawn through the library’s outer doors.

  Elianas followed. “I don’t sense interference.”

  “We didn’t sense the other elemental events either,” Torrullin muttered. “Watch the lake.” He gestured towards Lake Averis at the foot of the garden. “As soon as the level rises …”

  It happened then. Not an incremental rising, but a rush of thunderous water, to swirl over the incline within seconds; already the water lapped at the villa’s foundations. Dark and swift, it streamed and flowed, filled and swirled, with deadly intent.

  Elianas sprang for a balcony one floor up and hunkered there, light bleeding from his fist.

  Teroux rushed out into ankle deep liquid, staring out. Everywhere there was churning darkness, earth and sky. “Fuck, this will swamp Mariner.” He sent Torrullin a glance, and dematerialised.

  Torrullin did not notice his arrival or departure. As the water reach mid-thigh, racing into the Villa wherever an opening permitted ingress, he stared up, his attention for Elianas.

  The dark man clamped his lips together, and his fist shook. This was true might, this amount of water. It was an inundation; it would take all from him to send it back to the depths.

  “Krenin viu tremmen Orbis. Viu folian Danae. Linsim.”

  His words were barely audible, but the power in them was unmistakable.

  Torrullin sh
ivered, and sent him every support he was able to muster.

  Finally, finally, the level commenced a descent.

  Elianas, heaving, held the rail with shaking hands, closing his eyes.

  Luvanor

  Atrin Continent

  THE ACADEMIA OF TRUTH’S walls shuddered.

  Brothers in their homespun robes bailed from every nook. The children in their educational care ran screaming down the stairs, heading towards the courtyard. Panic ensued when roof tiles skittered off the sloping roof to shatter below.

  Into that bedlam, Elianas arrived, fist on high, light in brilliance surrounding him.

  “Krenin viu tremmen Luvanor! Viu folian Danae! Illianar!” he roared, punching the air.

  Everything stilled.

  Elianas stumbled to one knee, hanging his head.

  Torrullin arrived then, and discovered himself confronted with many young and petrified faces. Inhaling a trembling breath, he looked up, finding the nearest brother on the upper walkway.

  “Can you cope?” he asked.

  “Yes, my Lord Torrullin,” the man responded. “Thank you.”

  Nodding, Torrullin gripped Elianas’ shoulder, and took them away.

  Valaris

  Western Isles

  Valla Palace

  “WIND IS NEXT, or poisoned air,” Elianas said through shuddering lips. “I don’t know how long I can do this.”

  Torrullin had released him in the Valla suite he once occupied after returning from the Plane after a two thousand year absence. He dumped the exhausted man into the massive free-standing bed, and then stalked the otherwise empty chamber.

  “He attempts to weaken or fell you,” he said through clenched teeth.

  “Or this is all a distraction.”

  Torrullin came to a halt. “Or a distraction, yes, and there is no way to predict his actual target.” He approached the bed. “Rest. I have this.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  A mirthless smile twisted Torrullin’s lips. “I cannot predict his next coercion, but I can blanket the entire fucking universe with Elixir’s shroud. At the very least it will prevent all further calamity.”

  Elianas stared at him. “That is true power.”

  Another grimace erupted. “It will leave me as much a wreck as you are now. Stay here. I will be back soon, and then we bloody sleep until we wake.”

  “Fine.” Elianas’ eyes closed and oblivion took him.

  THE PALACE GARDENS WERE in perfect condition, every tree and shrub pruned to perfection, the lawn an emerald carpet of pure bliss.

  Torrullin strode to the bridge that connected Valla Island to the Lifesource, and there he braced, arms levelled to the horizon. Throwing his head back to stare into Valaris’ glorious heavens, his fair hair swinging mid-back, he stilled into utter immovability.

  He became then the lonely footprint on a desolate windswept coast; the rolling tumbleweed upon great dry plains; the steaming puddle on the ripe jungle floor.

  He was the majestic golden eagle sighting his prey; he was the comet’s tail lighting the skies of worlds in his fiery glow; he was the unstoppable rushing of the springtide wave toward unsuspecting land. He was the minute raindrop among billions of the same; the smallest grain of sand in the mighty desert; the ant scurrying surrounded by a city of identical workers. He was the mountain and the stone; he was the stream and the waterfall; he was the cloud and the vastness of space.

  He was alone; he was multiple. He was insignificant; he was majesty. He saw, he touched, he tasted, he smelled, he heard, he sensed, he knew. Everything and nothing. Together, apart, in an instant, across the ages. He was all that and was yet separate, individual.

  He travelled worlds unseen, entered realms unheard, shifted into parallel universes unnoticed.

  A trampled caterpillar whimpered and was heard; a baby squalled for its feed and was heard. A man abusing his daughter secretively was seen. The smell of poison, millions would succumb, was noted. Insignificant and of great consequence, it was all the same, held equal value.

  He journeyed far, near, up, down, all ways between, and conquered the confusion, the noise, the hell, the joy, the stink, the anxiety, the terror, the fire, the ice, the perfume, the heat, the loneliness, the claustrophobia, the cold, the surprise, the withdrawal, the wonder. He lived and died and lived a thousand times until he heard on command, tasted as required, saw as needed, touched, smelled, sensed, and knew life was threatened, souls were in jeopardy, innocents were about to be compromised.

  It was everywhere.

  Elixir knew.

  With terrible serenity he quelled the verse into compliance, silencing every foul word, stilling every disgusting deed, obviating all natural disasters, whether real or manufactured, and terrified every creature harbouring immoral thoughts. He drew on his power of the senses mercilessly … and covered all in a veil of command. Elixir is here, he declared, and I know you! Be still!

  Quivering with strain, every atom and microbe in revolt, he grounded the shroud.

  He lurched sideways then, relinquishing Elixir to become once more simply Torrullin Valla.

  ELIANAS’ DARK EYES DREW back into pinpricks when he saw the state Torrullin was in. The fair man almost crawled to the bed.

  “Aaru, what did you do?” he whispered, hauling him bodily into the softness of the mattress.

  “Everything,” was the response.

  “How long can you hold it?”

  Torrullin closed his eyes, sinking away. “Forever.”

  Elianas stared at him for long minutes, watching him enter deep unconsciousness. He sensed the stillness enveloping everything - indeed, everything - as if the universe had taken a colossal breath and now held it until commanded to breathe once more.

  By all gods, and Torrullin thought Danae power was vast?

  No wonder the multiverse bowed to this one man.

  The One.

  Chapter 44

  Wind is breath. Wind is flight. Wind is fresh. Wind is destructive. Wind uplifts. Wind is balance.

  ~ The Truth about Elements ~

  Luvanor

  LOWEN FELT THE EARTHQUAKE that shuddered Luvanor while concentrating in the region near the Academia as a tremor on the beach near her cottage, and did not give it too much attention.

  The surf churned for a while, but she thought perhaps a storm brewed out over the ocean. Swinging a length of driftwood absently, she ambled back, her thoughts far away. She was at peace for once, and no storm possessed the power to invade her inner tranquillity.

  When someone unexpectedly materialised on the sand ahead, it drew her initial attention only abstractedly, but she also immediately understood another kind of storm had come to her. This storm would shatter her.

  Rivalen.

  His large form revealed him first and then the whiteness of his skin.

  Slapping the driftwood into her free hand, she held it as one would a quarterstaff and approached warily, her heartbeat picking up the pace. To run now would gift him advantage. What did he want with her?

  She halted a few feet removed, and waited.

  He bowed laconically, and snapped his fingers.

  A host materialised behind him.

  Almost she dropped her ‘quarterstaff’, but it would not be in her interest to show fear. Again, advantage would be wholly his. Inwardly she groaned, knowing he had advantage anyway.

  What were these creatures?

  They were humanoid, at least, but there description defied her powers of imagination, for all were swathed in bright red cloaks.

  Draithen? Those creatures part darkling and part soltakin? Perhaps Mor Feru? Same creature, but draithen were of this realm, while More Feru originated from Digilan. It could not be. They were destroyed. Then again, Torrullin once thought all darklings destroyed as well, and look what happened with that.

  Rivalen had manipulated someone else, a host of someone else. It was the only explanation. Much as Margus once influenced the Dinor to bring them
as a war force to Valaris. Who? Which world now lay under his thumb? How had he achieved it so swiftly? Who had he killed to make it happen?

  He eyed her with a smirk on his face, well aware of her thought processes.

  She would not give him the satisfaction. Lowen prepared to deploy her Shadow Wings.

  Rivalen snapped his fingers once more and a fair man hurtled from out of the ether to crash into the beach sand. He lay as he fell, at an odd angle, and was clearly unconscious.

  Her heart thudded in her chest. It could not be.

  Loud hissing emanated from the covered throats behind Rivalen, a sibilance that grew ever louder. The hairs on her body rose up in spikes of dread.

  Rivalen lifted something from his chest. “What is this?” he demanded of her.

  She did not care. Her attention was for the man. He lay with his back to her, but she knew that manner of dress, his hair, the shape of his shoulders … it could not be.

  “What is this, Xenian seer?” Rivalen roared.

  Her gaze jerked up. “A replica Medaillon.”

  “Excuse me?” he shouted. “Please be certain of your pronouncement!”

  Using one booted foot, he shoved the unconscious man at his feet over onto his back. His black woven tunic was tatters and his chest was mere shreds of bloodied skin.

  “Look at him, Xenian! And look at this! Tell me what you see!”

  She stumbled forward and fell to her knees. “Torrullin,” she whispered, “what did he do to you? How did he do this?”

  “Lowen Dalrish, speak up. Who is this man?”

  She could not look up. “Torrullin,” she said.

 

‹ Prev