by Lee M Eason
The Panids of Koa
The Panids’ Children
Lee M Eason
Copyright © 2018 Lee M Eason
KINDLE Edition
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof in any form. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored, in any form or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical without the express written permission of the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
Lee M Eason
[email protected]
To Paul and Julie for all of their help and support.
Table of Contents
Attrius of Amar
The Panids- a brief history.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
What is the field? It is everything.
It is a grain of sand,
It is a bird,
It is the greatest peak in the Mighty Amarian Range,
The endless trees of The Northern Argan
And the countless beings of Koa.
The majority are heedless of it in a fleeting existence
Too full of toil and grief.
Some are frustrated and reach out in vain
To touch what is beyond them.
A few fumble awkwardly on its lesser currents
And call themselves Talents.
But The Panids soared.
Casually bending it to fulfil their least whims,
Such was their glory, their majesty- The Golden Ones.
Attrius of Amar
The Panids- a brief history.
(Extract from The Nebessa Narrative by Drassique of New Kallian)
For hundreds of years The Panids cast their benign influence across the southern continent seated at the Great Lantriums of Gillern in Hallorn and Luesh in Urukish. The two Lantriums were wonders to behold, centres of learning and the beating hearts of The Western and The Eastern Panids. Such were the achievements and powers of The Panids that nothing seemed beyond them. However, ‘The Golden Ones’ failed to consider the consequences of their arrogance or acknowledge the darkness in their own ranks. The Four - Ellusian, Pheneel, Gallim and Darak of The Luesh Lantrium desired recognition and elevation above their kind. They saw only one path and on it the fall and rebirth of The Luesh Lantrium under their rule.
Feeding the ego and expansionist desires of The Amarian Emperor Saracarn, The Four aided his invasion of Ciad. A first step, towards a war, intended to weaken all of the royal houses in the area and distract The Luesh Panids. As expected The Luesh Lantrium, irritated by this ‘petty’ squabble, sought to end the hostilities and ordered the ambitious Queen Magor of Urukish to intercede. She sent her daughter, The Princess Illia, to demand peace. Illia was her mother’s daughter, a queen in waiting and saw herself as The Emperor’s equal. Undaunted, Saracarn kept the young upstart waiting for days, cancelling audience after audience. The situation had reached a tipping point and sensing the time was right The Four took their next step. Illia’s murderers left enough evidence to point the finger of blame firmly at Amaria. Inconsolable over the death of her beloved daughter The Urukish Queen demanded retribution. The Luesh Lantrium was forced to support her as she declared war on Amaria and brought the full might of her armies to bear. The conflict between the two powers quickly escalated, forcing more and more countries to join the fighting or be swept away. The Panids of The Luesh Lantrium themselves were forced to take direct action and bend their talents to destruction and death. As events flowed The Four took yet another step and their path became darker. Unthinkably, The Panids of Luesh began to suffer losses, several of their number dying in isolation and unclear circumstances.
Far to the west The Panids of The Gillern Lantrium watched, and considered their obligations, only deciding to intercede when the war finally reached the borders of Hallorn and The Luesh Lantrium fell into chaos. Their intercession was of a magnitude unexpected by The Four. Caught off guard they were forced to call on their supporters and hurriedly secure control of The Luesh Lantrium. Outraged, Gillern could not allow The Four to consolidate their hold over Luesh and so The Lantriums were set in opposition. Gillern and Luesh began to tear at each other and caught between them, the peoples and lands of the south were devastated.
As the conflict became one of attrition and Urukish a wasteland, The Four and those loyal to them were forced to fight in the dirt alongside mortal men and women. Fearing defeat, they sought a way to gain the upper hand. They created the first of The Panids’ Children. But these creatures only escalated the ferocity of the war. As the two Lantriums struggled for dominance, monsters of continually greater power were created. In due course the Elementals were born, The Gale, The Havoc, The Blaze and ultimately The Fury. The war became an endless cycle of terror and death, each side inflicting yet greater atrocities on the other. Growing voices amongst The Gillern Panids called for The Children to be dissipated and the war ended. It was only after the creation of The Guardians and the destruction of The Luesh Lantrium that The Panids listened, finally accepted their arrogance and took responsibility for their actions. Ellusian, Pheneel, Gallim and Darak the four Panids who’s scheming had set events in motion fled to the coast, intent on escaping to the empty seas of the west and the myths of hidden lands beyond. They were pursued and captured after a final confrontation that cost The Panids the last of The Lantriums.
Only then did the remaining Panids pause to gaze about them and take stock of the desolation. The Lantriums were no more, their ranks decimated, the land scorched and the people of the south brought to their knees. In the empty days that followed they turned that gaze inwards and saw only the inevitability of the war’s reoccurrence. From this bleak certainty The Field’s Cap was conceived and created to limit the use of the field by all Panids and lesser Talents, preventing the possibility of another war on this scale.
The Panids chose four from their ranks: Kellim of Naddier, Halleck of Tek, Megann of Rorn and Ollcenan also of Tek, individuals embodying the attributes of compassion, foresight and moderation and who had spoken out against the creation of The Children and of the wider consequences of the war. Who better to remain, watch over and guide the Talents who would follow? In doing so The Panids hoped to bring a balance to the actions of Ellusian, Pheneel, Gallim and Darak- The Four. Their legacy set, The Panids turned away from the world and with a final glorious act of sacrifice, set The Field’s Cap in place.
In the following decades the countries of the south, wary and suspicious of these lesser Talents, formed them into Orders to better police and control them. Urukish became a wilderness, the remnants of its people finding refuge in Ildra, while the Urukish royal family sought to perpetuate itself through the Ildran bloodline. Amaria
went into self-imposed exile and Ciad, apparently humiliated and still furious at its invasion began building the Ciad Enclosure, completely cutting itself off from the eyes of the world. Pidone struggled to recover and fell into civil war. Firrica declared itself independent of Amaria and took back the title Nebessa. Hallorn and the rest of the south buried their dead and faced the reality of rebuilding nations. The world turned its back on the past and the role of the four remaining Panids faded.
Nearly one hundred years later The Great War is history. Royalty and politics exert their benign influence across the countries of the southern continent. Only Ildra struggles with its new Emperor. The Orders are no longer controlled and have become a source of counsel and strength to those who rule. The people of the south live out their lives with no use for lessons from The Great War or the mistakes of The Panids. Of the four remaining, only Kellim of Naddier continues the role originally set them. Megann of Rorn, long ago retired to the far north, is a faint memory. Ollcenan of Tek travels the continent resentful of the past and Halleck of Tek has not been seen for the better part of a century. As the past is forgotten Amaria seeks to end its self-imposed isolation, feeling it has finally atoned for its role in The Great War. The Empress Essedra’s more enlightened rule has gradually changed the mind-set of her people. Her goal, while being mindful of the past, is to build a secure and prosperous future. Under her direction the Amar Order has begun the difficult task of re-establishing links with the other Orders. The countries of the south watch with cautious optimism as Amaria opens its doors to the world. Indeed, all eyes are turned to Amaria when perhaps it would be wiser for them to watch events in Ildra and be wary of its Emperor.
Chapter 1
Kellim looked out on an amber desert. The brilliant light of the day was fading, leaving needle bush to cast long shadows across the sand; skeletal fingers holding onto the last of the heat. To his right the distant wall of The Amarian Mountain Range climbed out of the northern reaches of the vast Ugasi desert. Closer and above him a great spire of rock, crowned by two towers and a fragile arch, looked down. They were indeed a long way from help.
This had been his only return to Aurt since the Great War. The mighty fortress had remained unoccupied since then and had spent the last ten decades slowly crumbling back into the desert. Time was the thing Kellim now played for, that and its eroding effects on the patience of others. He went to rest his hands on a crumbling sill and then stopped to look at them. When had that happened? He turned them over. When had they got so old? He dismissed any further thoughts and closing his eyes lifted his face to the last of the sun. It was a challenge to appear relaxed at a time like this. He’d made a mistake; an error of judgement that should have been beyond him. Life, it seemed, if lived long enough, never failed to highlight one’s limitations. So many sunsets, so many decisions and so many mistakes. He dared to linger for longer before finally turning back to the small room. Candles cast their own trembling shadows; a marked contrast to the figure sat scowling at him.
For an instant their eyes met. The same dark Amarian features, the same intense stare and more usefully, the same thinly veiled temper. Again Kellim registered something of Naicarn’s internal change but failed to pinpoint what unsettled him so about it. Few things disturbed Kellim and this man now outranked them. They’d met twice and both times Kellim had found him troubling but no more than that. Now the Amarian looked haggard and, that was it, dangerous. Only now did he fully realise the danger he’d placed them all in.
“You seem confused by the question.” Naicarn had ceased to be interested in the answer but was becoming irritated by the Panid’s daydreaming and apparent ignorance of the situation. He spoke only to break the old man’s dithering and to push aside the nebulous whispers that had begun again to plagued the edges of his senses. The stillness and irritation seemed to attract them. Could the old man hear them too? The continued lack of response forced him to speak again. “Kellim!” This time a slight edge escaped his control.
"Pardon,” Kellim was listening. He was aware of the faint whispers focused on Naicarn. They chilled him, harking back to darker times to other mistakes. He forced himself to wait a little longer before answering. “Did you say something?”
Even the old man’s accent was beginning to wear on him. Naicarn couldn’t quite place it and then he realised the mistake, time not location made it unfamiliar. This man, this Panid had had his day. He was as much a relic as the fortress that contained them. “I say for the last time,” Naicarn repeated impatiently. “Were you sent here?”
“Sent?” Kellim stroked his beard, dragging out the answer.
Naicarn reached the end of his patience. Slamming his hand down on the desk.
At last! Kellim’s hand hastily slipped into his coat pocket and checked its contents. He braced himself for the unpleasantness to follow. “No, not sent, just my own curiosity,” he attempted to keep his voice amiable. “And… as I have few answers to my questions, I…well, I suppose I should be on my way.”
"Just like that,” Naicarn snapped. He rubbed at his forehead pushing the whispers back. The old man was a fool. A confused, befuddled fool! Naicarn knew the stories about Kellim, of course he did, but the reality of that legend was pathetic. Unshaven, unkempt. Wasting his time. Distracting him. The whispers made him want to scream at the old fool. This, this vagabond’s unsolicited visit now presents him with more problems. Unwanted distractions. Should he let the old man go? Risk having his whereabouts revealed or challenge a Panid?
Kellim had turned back to the window he could feel Naicarn’s focus slipping. The sun was sinking fast, red and brooding. “It will be dark soon,” he muttered.
"What..." Naicarn’s questions were cut dead in the air as The Panid suddenly blinked out of existence. Before his very eyes! Without the faintest trace of focus or field use! There was a palpable dullness to the room, a static click. For an instant Naicarn was at a loss. The old man had played him!
"Guard. Guard!" he shouted. The man almost fell into the room. “Find him!” The guard was momentarily bewildered. “The Panid, the old man you fool! Search everywhere!” Just how much had he underestimated Kellim? “And get men out on mounts,” he added quickly. “Sweep the area!"
Without question the guard left and began barking orders, men obeyed and commands echoed through the fortress. Naicarn cast his eyes across his desk, wondering if The Panid had managed to pocket something before his arrival. But nothing was amiss, a check of the room confirmed this. He forced himself to pause, uncertainty nagging him. He rubbed at his forehead and then tried to calm himself. What should he do? Think, he had to think. His plans had been carefully plotted. He needed more time The political unrest he’d created kept away prying eyes; a few more nudges and Amar would at last be forced to act, become proactive and take the first step of a return to its rightful position. Would the old man report his location to The Amar Order? Would they listen? It was unlikely, but he wasn’t ready to take on The Corumn yet. To act too early would mean failure, to act too late… This would have to wait he told himself, realising that even now the old man was distracting him. It would need more careful thought and that would require time and so The Panid would have to be stopped. He squashed the sudden sense of urgency and closed his eyes, slowed his breathing and drew on the field. The whispering voices were there, reaching out. Naicarn pushed them away, closed them out. Precious seconds passed as he regained control. Finally, he took a long breath and exhaled. Calmer, he carefully focused, spread his consciousness across the room and out through the door. The guard had gone but he could still sense the adrenalin in the air and the residue of the man's form field. He slid further through the fortress, seeping through every wall, along every corridor. Sensing, touching, searching, a myriad images and sensations. Where was the old man?
Kellim exploded out of the air. He lost his footing and would have crashed to the floor if Jac hadn’t somehow managed to catch him. The younger man supported Kellim as he fought
to pull his senses together.
The room was spinning. Everything was muffled - blurred. Jac was gripping his shoulders, saying something, trying to make him focus but he couldn’t quite understand. Suddenly there was icy water! The shock brought the room into sharp focus and the world came flooding in.
"I ... I’m fine,” Kellim gasped, water dripping off his face, as he looked around in a daze.
Jac held onto his arm, his eyes impatiently straying to the door.
"The cellar… are we in the cellar?" Kellim asked dragging his hand across his face.
"Yes."
"Undiscovered?"
"So far."
“Then…” his breath was uneven. “Then... we must go. We are in real danger,” Kellim steadied himself, focusing, pulling himself in. Fighting the urge to vomit he tried to smile. “I shall nev...never use those things again.” He seemed to be regaining himself somewhat and straightened. “That was most unpleasant.” Patting Jac's arm in thanks he attempted a few steps to see if his legs would work.
Jac headed for the door, eager to be away from this dead end and was about to speak when Kellim suddenly stiffened.
“He’s searching!” The old man took a long draw of air and exhaled slowly. This time he straightened properly and was still for long seconds. Jac looked to the door and then took a few steps back to Kellim. But the old man opened his eyes again. “That’s better. We should be on our wa...”
“What’s wrong?” Jac’s eyes darted back to the door, sword half drawn.
But Kellim was looking at the floor, a puzzled expression upon his face. “Something is down there, I believe, but just what I cannot say.” He paused a little longer his expression distant. “Faint traces of something… something familiar.”