Tawny eyes narrowed. “You met Tarlinn in the circle of dust.”
“That generic man?” Rivalen stepped in close. “He is the same one as spoken of in legends? I thought of him as a Valla deputy, an Elder able to use the Throne’s power to manipulate me for a time. He was strong, but nothing special.”
Teroux’s heart set up another bout of wild knocking. “I once heard Torrullin describe Ixion as a ‘generic man’.”
The giant stepped back a pace. “Torrullin met with Ixion?”
“So did Elianas and Tristan.”
Rivalen blinked. “Tristan. Interesting.” He shrugged then. “You suggest the generic form is a disguise, one this Tarlinn employed also.”
Teroux spread his hands.
“Timekeeper Tarlinn still lives?” Rivalen demanded.
“You are the one somewhat out of touch, I think,” Teroux murmured. “Tarlinn is the Throne. This is no secret anymore.”
“Tarlinn is the … Throne,” Rivalen repeated. “Jacastu sat on the Throne. Torrullin sat on the Throne.” He gripped Teroux’s tunic. “Does that make Tarlinn the true and only Timekeeper?”
Teroux disengaged. “Think it through. Neither Adagin nor Ixion inhabited a time the Throne was supreme within. Tarlinn is a means to keeping the legends alive while new Timekeepers are made, but only in time as we know it.”
Rivalen nodded. “I see it. Clever.” He tapped his lips with a gloved hand. “Someone recently revealed to me that the master mechanism was created by sentient hands, a mortal who clearly saw beyond what was known. Someone who had enlightening visions, perhaps. Tell me, Teroux, is the Throne the master mechanism?”
“I have no idea. What is a master mechanism?”
“A clock, boy. A device that keeps the time while Timekeepers mature, thereby holding all spaces together. Without it, all falls apart. A means of keeping the legends alive while new Timekeepers are made. Your words.”
“Oh.” Teroux shoved his hands out of sight again, wondering if he had just made the greatest blunder of all time. If the Throne was this master device, he had now laid it bare for this creature. It did not require any intelligence to figure out what he would do with the knowledge. “You said a mortal created the master mechanism.”
Rivalen grinned ferally. “Nemisin, First Father of the mighty Valleur, a mortal.”
Teroux smirked. “Except Nemisin did not create the Throne.”
Silence greeted his words.
Teroux shrugged.
“Who then? Tell me!” Rivalen roared.
“Torrullin,” Teroux said. “And he was immortal when he did so. The Throne cannot be the master mechanism.”
Inwardly he was elated, for he had not heralded doom with his unguarded tongue. In fact, he had completely unsettled the giant from another realm.
Moments of silence ensued and then Rivalen said, “This is the most interesting conversation I have ever had with you. You have surprised me, Teroux Valla. Not only are you informed, but you are logical in your thinking.”
Teroux glared, expecting the sting after the compliment.
Rivalen, however, moved on. “Now tell me of Neolone.”
“The Valla Dragon,” Teroux shrugged. “A known tale.”
“Boy, I am not from this realm. Born here, yes, but banished as an infant. I know not all these great stories. Who was Neolone? A Dragon the Vallas enslaved?”
Teroux stared at him. “Why should I tell you? Why are you asking me to make it easy for you? Go and do some reading.”
Laughter boomed out. “You have found your courage! Excellent! But misplaced right now.” Rivalen cut his mirth short and locked in. “Tell me. I shall reveal what a witness is after. You need to know what that means.”
Licking his lips, Teroux prayed the two Elders inside the Guild Hall would exit and come to his aid. He was out of his depth.
“Teroux!”
“Fine! Neolone is a Dragon from another realm. He struck a deal with Nemisin, one which gifted Nemisin Enchanter status. Neolone was lost in this realm and needed the means to return to his home. According to prophecy, Torrullin was the means, and thus Neolone melded with Nemisin in order to reach the time Torrullin would be born in.”
“Melded? How?”
“I do not know how exactly, but thereafter Vallorins ever had the mark of the Dragon on their chests. It was not a tattoo, though; it was the living Dragon, the form he assumed while waiting.”
“Interesting. Torrullin had this mark?”
Teroux nodded.
“Tianoman has it now?”
“Torrullin killed Neolone when the Dragon took on true form again. No, the Dragon mark no longer passes from Vallorin to Vallorin.”
“Neolone is dead. I am happy to hear that. At least one of the Tarlinn and Neolone duo is no more. And yet you said Neolone is a Dragon from another realm. Not was - is.”
“He makes appearances in visions on occasion. We tend to regard him as alive.”
Rivalen looked up at the darkness. Night had set in while they spoke. “Tarlinn and Neolone are placed together as Timekeepers in legend by virtue of their connection via the Throne, but neither are living beings in this age, although not as dead as one would expect. I can deal with that.” He gazed at Teroux again. “Do you see? They were witnesses for each other. Thus has every Timekeeper had a partner.”
Kalgaia’s lights came on then, transforming the darkness into a magical playground of glows and colour. Teroux sighed, gazing around him in awe. Kalgaia was beautiful.
Rivalen flinched when the lights came on. “You were meant to be my partner. My witness. One day I would have been yours, when your time for rule arrived. This is the way it works, although its importance was only recently brought to my attention. A witness knows. A witness sees. A witness does not judge or interfere, but a witness is the energy a Timekeeper requires. Time plays tricks and thus one needs a stable source of energy in order to negotiate the flows without losing sight of how it is measured. You are my energy. Teroux.”
Teroux stepped back. “I would have failed as a stable source.”
“You would be brilliant as a source. You have so much suppressed desire inside you, you burn, Teroux.”
Shuddering, Teroux understood. “Never would you have allowed me to sate those desires. Always you would hold Elianas at arm’s length from me. Tease me with his presence, stoke my desire, never to know satisfaction. You lied. All gods, you lied, but I was too enamoured to realise it.”
Rivalen laughed. “You have grown in your perceptions also. It occurs to me I do not require proximity with you. You remain my witness, for your desire remains. All I need do is draw your fire from you when I need it. What you see or do not see is immaterial.”
“Rivalen.”
It was the first time he spoke the creature’s name in his presence and Rivalen blinked, sensing a shift in their dynamics.
“First, a witness must see for an act to hold meaning. Second, my desire remains, yes, but guilt is greater than searching for satisfaction. Were you to lay Elianas down before me now or any future time, I would walk away. His presence fills me with guilt.” Teroux inclined his head. “This has been interesting, as you say, but it is time for you to go. I have no energy you may now use. I shall never again have it.”
“What did they do to you?”
Teroux huffed. “Fake sympathy will get you no favours.”
Rivalen’s blue gaze grew ever colder. “What did they do?”
“I did it to myself. My beautiful wife killed herself because of it and never will I forget I caused her death. Go away.”
About to say more, Rivalen paused. An instant later he was gone.
Teroux glanced over his shoulder, sensing the real reason for Rivalen’s sudden departure. “How long have you been listening?”
Torrullin stepped into the light. “Long enough.”
“He was about to kill me, wasn’t he?”
“If you are of no use to him, why keep you alive.�
� Torrullin laid a hand on Teroux’s shoulder. “Come, let us have supper together.”
Teroux turned to look at the Danae Guild Hall a final time. He knew he would never return to this place.
“Thank you for being there for me,” he whispered.
Chapter 59
Without light there is no hope
~ Scroll of Wisdom ~
Akhavar
Mountain city
A MEMORIAL SERVICE took place the following day in the chapel area of the mountainous enclave. Erin, priestess and empath, was laid to rest.
After everyone had dispersed, Tristan approached Torrullin and drew him aside. “The Kaval needs a new member.” His voice was without inflection. “We need the power of fourteen.”
“You will need two soon,” Torrullin murmured.
“Oh?”
“Quilla will be leaving, but keep this to yourself.”
“It begins then. Change. Mine. Where is Quilla going?”
“Avaelyn. Permanently.”
Eyes narrowing, Tristan asked, “And where is Avaelyn off to?”
“Into the mists.”
“When?”
“Soon.”
Tristan closed his eyes. “Major change.” When he opened his eyes, he said, “Will you at least give me some warning?”
Torrullin nodded. “I promise.”
“Thank you. Now, regarding a new member …”
“He or she will find you. This is how the Kaval is enabled. Those of a certain persuasion feel the call and that is how you will know he or she is suited to the duty. Do not go looking, but ask Belun to change Erin’s ogive to summons.”
Tristan nodded. “That makes sense. I admit to relief.”
Torrullin looked away. Tristan’s relief would be short-lived. Once he understood the sacrifices the new Kaval member was forced to endure in order to be the last immortal of his or her kind, guilt would be greater than relief. He was not about to tell him, though; the time for that reality approached all too soon.
“Not yet, Tris. The Dome must stay hidden for a while longer.”
“I know.”
“Talk to Teroux, will you, while you have some downtime? I realised yesterday he is uninformed about certain matters.”
Tristan stared at him. “Such as?”
“The master mechanism and so forth.”
“Fine.” Tristan inhaled and released. “Sorry. I seem to be tense right now. It will be good to connect with Teroux. Can we trust him?”
Torrullin smiled. “In every sense.”
Tristan smiled as well. “I like the sound of that.”
Mountaintop
ACCORDING TO THE MAN from Drinic, the Dome relied on magic, which was also energy, and the sacred ogives were the means to entry.
These ogives were energy portals. Rivalen fingered his chin, again sitting on his mountaintop. How did one breach an energy portal? How did one summon an entity of magic from the ether to take on a tangible existence?
He needed it accessible to lure Tristan Skyler Valla within.
That Valla’s name was being bandied about too much for his taste now. Even if he managed to rid himself of Torrullin and Elianas, this Tristan posed a future threat, a massive one.
Another matter to consider was the clock Elianas installed into his enclave. It clearly possessed great value and power; why use it otherwise? It might not be the touted master mechanism, but it possessed something else.
This current mission centred around the Dome. First priority, the Kaval leader. Second was the stone.
How?
Darkness!
Rivalen straightened. For a prism created of sorcery to shine, it required light. For that same prism to be revealed, it needed to draw unto itself whatever light it could find in darkness. Sorcery operated in this manner. Contrary laws were the tools of function.
The universe needed to vanish into long night. Only then would the shine of magic be supreme. It was time to employ the alternate laws of creation. Too long now he had relied on the logic of this realm.
The Diluvan king’s blood would now become his ultimate tool. Blood of a Danaan and a Danae, a man able to imagine people into being. Easy then to imagine a cloaked crystal dome into reality. Alexander Diluvan had no idea his blood could be the seeds of creation, and he, Rivalen, needed but one drop for this task.
Smiling, he rose.
The moving shadows on his face congealed and ceased their questing actions.
Rivalen vanished from sight, clothes and skin, assuming instead the guise of invisibility, of utter darkness.
Luvanor
Tunin Continent
Vinala
ELIANAS WANDERED THE STALLS in the market town as Teighlar had, his interest soon aroused.
The displays were eye-catching and the wares of quality workmanship. Fruit and vegetables were fresh and wholesome. The Emperor was on the mark when he suggested a visit to Vinala.
Both Senlu and Valleur guards were in evidence about the town, but they were unobtrusive.
As he approached a vendor selling herbs, clouds passed before the sun, plunging the market into temporary gloom. It grew colder as well. Elianas shrugged his sense of disquiet aside. Earlier he noted random clouds in the heavens; they were bound to influence …
His head jerked up as disquiet exploded into premonition.
Premonition became certainty in an instant.
A night sky bloomed overhead and yet it was a mere three hours after sunrise. Others might think it an eclipse of the sun, but it was not that. This had happened swiftly and the result was instantaneous. An eclipse was a slower process. Someone had summoned immense magic.
No stars pricked the blackness with silver points. It was not night. It was utter darkness.
The black descended to throw its supremacy onto the land as well. One moment Vinala reposed in sunshine; the next it vanished from every sight.
Elianas swivelled on the balls of his feet. As the sounds of panic erupted, he realised they were all now blinded. There was no light. He heard someone strike flint against stone, but no sparks erupted into the darkness. Fingers snapped everywhere for the magical flames, but nothing happened.
The darkness had eaten all light.
“Stay calm!” he shouted. “Make your way slowly to a safe place and wait there until this is over!”
“What is this?” a nearby man’s voice demanded.
Elianas did not bother answering. There was no answer. Relying on his transport abilities, hoping it too had not been curtailed, he imagined the Throne-room.
Torrullin would be there somewhere.
Akhavar
THE SENSATION OF MOVEMENT shivered over his skin, but he could not tell if he had changed spaces. If this was Akhavar, the utter black had come here as well.
“Torrullin!”
“Elianas? Stand still. I will find you.”
Never had Torrullin’s voice filled him with such relief.
The Dome
INSIDE THE DOME, the lights on the console began to glow.
Gradually the white circular floor brightened the blackness, a disc of moonlight. Silvery sparks tracked up and down the pillars as living stone sought warmth in utter night.
The magical enclave did not assume solidity, for it had not been summoned. It simply maintained a presence in the darkness of manipulation in order to prepare for a summons.
It would thus be ready should it be called to duty.
Mountaintop
ON HIS MOUNTAINTOP, Rivalen smiled, although no one saw it.
There. Glittering sparks.
All other light had failed, but an object of magic would know to counter such influence. Those sparks were facetted as if glancing of a prism.
He flew then through the spaces.
Akhavar
Mountain City
EVEN VALLEUR COULD PANIC.
As sorcerers, they understood coercion was underway and therefore knew to remain calm, to seek within not only for streng
th, but for resolution. No solutions came to mind, however, and therefore, gradually, panic set in.
Children cried and mothers sounded frantic in the darkness. Men and women stumbled as they walked into walls and each other, the noises confrontational as injuries resulted.
“This worries me,” Torrullin murmured.
Shoulder to shoulder, the two men braced in the darkness, both seeking source and solution.
“This is not Reaume sorcery,” Elianas responded. “Rivalen is the source.”
“Why does he need darkness?”
“To reveal something.”
Both men inhaled sharply. “Tristan!” Torrullin hollered. “The Dome!”
From somewhere Tristan’s voice was heard, sounding harassed and far away. “What about it?”
Gripping Elianas’ arm, Torrullin transported to where Tristan’s voice emanated from. “Tris?”
“Gods, how do you manage to travel even now?” Tristan snapped. “Never mind. Is this black about the Dome?”
“Cloaked magic cannot hide in this,” Elianas murmured.
An expletive erupted from the Kaval leader. “What do you suggest?”
“Rivalen has already found it, guaranteed,” Torrullin said, “although I doubt he is able to enter. He will maintain this blinding until he is successful, for it hides what he does, or thus he believes. We - you, me and Elianas - will await him inside.”
“That means recalling the Dome.” Tristan sounded sceptical. “I do not like presenting him with a tangible target.”
“I do not need it tangible,” Elianas said. “We go in my way.”
Tristan swore again. “Everything is changing indeed. Fine. Let us do this.”
Elianas leaned in, took hold on both Tristan and Torrullin, and they vanished, although no one was able to mark their absence.
The Dome
Lore of Sanctum Omnibus Page 241