“Where are your people?” Farouk asked.
Faeraon turned away, facing the alcove and the diminishing sunlight.
“I do not know,” he said. “They faded away when our Mother died.”
“Your Great Mother?” Farouk offered, moving up to stand beside Faeraon.
“She was the source of all life,” Faeraon explained. “And the mother of all creatures who walked upon Alvheim.”
“Alvheim?” Farouk repeated. “Is that the name of this world?”
“Yes. Where are you from?”
“My world is called Earth,” Farouk replied. “But its name is different, depending upon the language that is spoken.”
“And you somehow know my language,” Faeraon stated.
Farouk nodded. “I do. But I cannot explain why. I have come to understand many things that I did not understand before.”
“Will you tell me some of these things?” Faeraon asked. “Perhaps if I knew some of these things, I could find the answers that my daughter once sought out.”
“I will tell you anything you want to know,” Farouk said. “But please, tell me how long you have been alone.”
Faeraon seemed to struggle again, and he grudgingly went back to his throne, motioning for Farouk to follow. The Druid took a seat on the edge of the top layer of the dais, while Faeraon returned to his throne.
“It has been thousands of years since the last of my people, my daughter, left this world.”
“Where did she go?”
“When the Destroyer came, and the Mother spirit was killed, she left to find the means to bringing her back. She was the only one brave enough to go out into the world and seek the truth. And for that, she was doomed.”
“What do you mean?”
“Her studies revealed things to her that are forbidden; secrets that only the divine should know, not mere sentient creatures of Alvheim.”
Farouk nodded, understanding the nature of such secrets. “Go on,” he said.
“She sought means of traveling to other worlds; other places of which she would not speak. She kept these things a secret as she knew the elders would not approve. But, as they died off or faded into the darkness, she delved deeper and deeper. Finally, she found the answer she was looking for, and it cost her…” Faeraon paused, sulking as the memory of his beloved daughter filled his heart. Farouk felt his pain.
“It cost her everything. Her soul was trapped between worlds, unable to pass to either one fully.”
“What was this other world she found?” Farouk asked. “And why did she believe it was the answer?”
“She called it Eredor,” Faeraon said. “And she felt the presence of another spirit; one that could be brought back to return life to our world. A Mother Spirit.”
“She planned to take our Great Mother?” Farouk said, knowing that the world of Faeraon spoke was Earth.
“No, friend,” Faeraon replied. “Within that world, there were two.”
Farouk swallowed, stunned. Two Mother Spirits on Earth? The Keeper had said nothing of this. Neither had Jodocus; not even Traegus. He would have to contemplate this alone. This was information that may be helpful against The Lifegiver.
“How have you survived here for all these years?” he asked.
“I have barely survived. My grief and solitude have sapped me of most of my strength. I cannot die, however; my people do not die as do the animals. Our Mother blessed us with eternal life. But, eventually, I will succumb to grief and weakness as my own life force fades away. I am the only living creature left on this world that I know of. And I shall be until the darkness takes me as well.”
Farouk shuddered. He could not fathom the loneliness that Faeraon must have felt all these years. That, and the grief of losing everyone he had ever known, would have taken the will of even the strongest man. Faeraon was the last of his kind, and if he was not cared for, he too would die.
“I will not let you fade into the darkness, my friend,” Farouk assured him.
Faeraon leaned his head against the side of his throne, staring blankly at Farouk as he settled into a calmer demeanor. He smiled faintly, the light returning to his eyes.
“I thank you, Druid Farouk,” he said. “But I am afraid there is nothing you can do to help. Like this world, and my people, I am doomed. I will go the way of all of my people, if I am lucky. If not, then my daughter will take me to her domain and I will become like her; a vengeful, malevolent spirit.”
A vengeful, malevolent spirit…
“What do you call this manner of being?” Farouk asked.
“Beansidhe,” Faeraon said. “An anguished spirit that is doomed to wander aimlessly forever.”
Banshee, Farouk thought. The banshee of Eirenoch. She was Faeraon’s daughter!
“Where is your daughter now?”
“She wanders the lands, trapped between worlds,” Faeraon replied. “But she always returns to her lair in the daytime. It is then that I go out into the wastelands, begging her to rest in peace.”
Farouk looked out the stained glass windows, noticing that the light was fading fast. It would be nightfall soon, and the banshee would be out. The two would have to stay inside until morning, lest she find them wandering about.
“Night is coming,” Faeraon said, his hands beginning to shake. “When it comes, we must seek shelter.”
“Why is that?” Farouk asked.
Faeraon was silent, hanging his head in sorrow. He did not press the matter, assuming the night would bring frigid temperatures. That was a logical assumption.
A low rumbling was suddenly heard in the distance, and Farouk stood to peer out the ruined windows of the alcove.
“What was that?” he asked.
Faeraon stood, leading the Druid to the windows. Farouk followed his gaze to the island’s barren shelf. Before his eyes, sections began to collapse and fall into the darkness below. Trees along the cliff’s edges became uprooted with the rumbling and tumbled down as well. Everywhere, dust rose with the impacts.
“There is nothing holding the soil together anymore,” Faeraon lamented. “Soon, there will be nothing left but the bedrock.”
“Who was this Destroyer you say killed the Great Mother here?”
Faeraon shook his head. “His nature was unknown to us,” he said. “He simply appeared through a great vortex and took everything.”
“The sea as well?”
“I can only assume that the sea retreated into the depths of the world.”
“How did you survive?”
Faeraon turned to face him, his eyes red with sorrow. “I do not know, friend,” he said. “When my daughter was lost to me, my sorrow was enough to sap my strength enough to remain hidden. That is the only explanation I have. Once this world was destroyed, He moved on.”
Farouk nodded. “He is on my world now.”
“I am sorry, Farouk,” Faeraon said. “If I could have destroyed him completely, I would have.”
“I know. But he cannot be destroyed. There are things I have learned from the higher powers that tell me he is a part of everything. I do not fully understand it myself.”
“If he is on your world,” Faeraon said, “then I fear it will become as this one.”
Belo buzzed in through the window suddenly, frantically zipping around Farouk’s head. Faeraon watched the tiny creature excitedly, shocked at its presence.
“What is this?” he asked.
“This,” Farouk said, motioning for Belo to settle on his shoulder, “is Belo. He is a construct, and is also from my world.”
Faeraon smiled, reaching out to touch Belo’s wing. “He is fascinating.”
“He was created by my friend, Aeli,” Farouk replied. “She is a Druid, like me.”
Belo fluttered over to Faeraon’s shoulder, squeaking and flapping curiously. Faeraon allowed him to sniff and peck at him, showing only the slightest bit of annoyance.
“So these Druids of your world are capable creating life?”
“Aeli is a different kind of Druid,” Farouk explained. “Her powers are focused on creative energy. Druidism, from my understanding, is more about maintaining the balance. Our master believed that her innate powers would complement the discipline.”
“To create something new,” Faeraon finished.
Farouk nodded. “He chose well.”
“Where is your master now?”
Farouk turned back to the windows, gazing out over the wasted land. “He is no longer among the living,” he said. “Jodocus sacrificed his life to destroy a creature that The Lifegiver sent to destroy his lands.”
Faeraon frowned. “I am sorry, my friend.”
The two said nothing for a long moment, simply watching the last of the sun’s ray disappear behind the odd looking horizon. Faeraon began to appear distressed as the light dimmed, growing more visibly shaken with the spreading darkness.
The palace and its grounds appeared to be disappearing into the gloom. The shadows lengthened, almost climbing up the walls as if they were alive. Faeraon stepped away from the windows, returning to his throne, his right hand firmly grasping the hilt of his sword.
“What troubles you, my friend?” Farouk asked.
“With the darkness, comes sorrow.”
Farouk moved to Faeraon’s side, holding out his hand as Belo flapped over to him to land on his wrist. Around them, the shadows continued to deepen, swirling and churning as if attempting to escape.
“I need your eyes again, friend,” Farouk said, watching Belo as he flew off into the night.
“Tell me, Faeraon, what is it?”
As the king remained silent, a shrill cry was heard in the distance. It sent chills up Farouk’s spine, and echoed like a demonic roar in his ears. It seemed to be a deep, tormented wailing, with a shrieking cry that sounded over it. Farouk’s heart raced, sending waves of tension through his body. He looked to Faeraon, whose face echoed his fear yet maintained its mask of anguish. The king turned to him, his eyes slowly meeting Farouk’s. The Druid saw a single tear in one eye.
“My daughter,” Faeraon lamented. “She returns.”
Chapter Six
Khalid materialized within the Dragon’s cavern. His priests had prepared his passage through the void into Dagda’s own dimension, and he was now there in person. Astral projection would not do, as the two would have to travel to their destination in their material forms.
The Dragon awaited Khalid’s arrival with anticipation. He had saved enough strength to transmute to human form, as he had done many times in the past, and could now go on his last adventure with his newest servant.
Khalid now stood below him, staring up at the Dragon’s immense head. Smiling as much as a dragon could, Dagda closed his eyes. He focused his strength on creating his simulacrum; the humanoid form that would accompany Khalid on this great journey to depths unknown. When he had formed the body in his mind, he placed his head on the cavern floor in front of Khalid.
Before the Priest’s eyes, the Dragon’s great, toothed maw opened. From inside his mouth, his human form stepped forward, slowly morphing into the familiar face that his servants were used to. He stepped over the great fangs, standing before Khalid and grasping his shoulders.
“This is a great day, my friend,” the Dragon said. “For the first time in many years I feel free; happy. I am happy to have you travel with me on this quest.”
“It is my honor, Dagda,” Khalid replied. “My sword and my soul are yours to lead.”
The Dragon chuckled, slapping his hands on the sides of Khalid’s head. “On this journey,” he said. “We will not be master and servant. No, we will be partners. We will fight together, talk together, and learn together; as brothers.”
“Steal together?” Khalid joked.
“Once a thief, always a thief,” the Dragon said, smiling. “Now, let us enter the Vault of the Earth.”
Dagda led Khalid to a large grotto that was carved into the wall that his great head faced. It was perfectly smooth and round, carved by expert engineers many eons ago. The two entered without hesitation, each one looking forward to the journey ahead.
“This tunnel was built by the Druaga in the beginning of my reign,” Dagda explained. “It leads to a chamber where the hub of all interconnected Earth realms lies. There, we will travel through the caverns to find the source of this Mother spirit.”
“You will do the talking, then?” Khalid asked.
“I will try,” Dagda replied. “But I am not sure if she will understand me.”
“Or be friendly, for that matter,” Khalid added.
“I had not thought of that, but yes.”
Khalid wondered if Theia had created children of her own, or if that action required a world upon which she could release her creative energy. She had once been a separate world, as Khalid understood, but now she was trapped inside Earth; separate, but joined with Gaia herself.
“I do not think I would be very friendly if I had been trapped in one place for billions of years,” Khalid remarked.
Dagda smiled, knowing that Khalid’s words rang true. “Nor would I,” he said. “Yet some part of me thinks that she may be happy to interact with another soul, whatever its nature.”
“I see,” Khalid said. “Then, perhaps she would enjoy speaking with The Lifegiver, if she has not already.”
Dagda nodded. “Traegus tells me that the Lifegiver is unaware of her presence. In other dimensions, she may not exist, or may never have been joined with Gaia.”
“How is it that she would remain undetected?”
“The Great Mother projects her energy into the Earth, therefore it is detectable. Theia is hidden, unable to use her energy to fully affect this world. She can only be an observer, if even that. Her energy is not present anywhere but her own prison.”
Khalid sighed. “I feel for her,” he said. “Such great sadness. Such solitude.”
“Needless to say, she’s probably not in the most organized and rational state of mind.”
The grotto led to a great stairway that led down into the darkness. Still circular, the walls and ceiling sloped downward, keeping with the plane of the stairway. Along either side of each step, a small green orb glowed with the energy of the Earth, lighting their path in a pleasant, yet somewhat eerie light.
“It stretches down as far as I can see,” Khalid said.
“The Vault is deep,” Dagda answered. “It lies just outside the Great Inner Worlds; layers, within the Earth, that are worlds in their own right. We will be traveling to the innermost layer. It is the only place this spirit may exist.”
“I was thinking earlier,” Khalid said, following Dagda down the stairs. “If Theia is a Mother spirit, then surely she could have created some Firstborn.”
“That is possible,” Dagda agreed.
“I would, if, for any other reason, to have someone to talk to.”
Dagda grinned. “Mother spirits are not as needy when it comes to companionship. Even those that choose to create life do so only for their amusement, and for the store of universal knowledge. They are servants of the cosmos, existing only to provide experience for the entities that share it with the creator.”
Khalid shrugged. “My only concern is with this world,” he said. “The stars and the rest of the… matter out there concern me not.”
“That is very close-minded, Khalid,” Dagda joked.
“This coming from a flying creature that spends all of his time in a cave… not flying.”
The Dragon laughed loudly, his booming voice echoing through the grotto. Khalid joined him.
The journey was quite enjoyable so far; for both of them.
The stairway ended after what seemed like a day of descending. At the bottom, a great granite door stood. It was carved with symbols that Khalid recognized as the Druaga’s language. In the center of the door, a wheel was carved. It was separated into twelve sections, each one representing the months of the year. Inside were countless concentric circles that depicted the la
yers within the surface of the Earth; each one, the Dragon had said, worlds of their own.
“Beyond this door is the most interesting chamber you will ever witness, Khalid.”
“I can’t wait,” Khalid replied.
The Dragon held his hands out before him, chanting in a language Khalid did not recognize. Symbols on the door began to glow, each one coming to life with every word the Dragon spoke. Then, the Dragon was silent, concentrating on finishing… whatever he was doing. A few minutes later, he opened his eyes, smiling at Khalid.
“We have been welcomed,” he said. “The Great Mother knows our purpose, and she approves.”
“That is good.” Khalid replied.
From behind the door, a loud grinding noise was heard. The wheels in the center of the carving began to spin in opposite directions, forming some sort of combination that would open the chamber in the right configuration. Then, the wheels stopped, and many of the symbols went out. The others moved across the surface of the door, coming together in what looked like a mathematical formula.
The rumbling behind the door increased in magnitude, causing the grotto to shake enough to make Khalid uncomfortable.
“What is happening?” he asked.
“Relax, Khalid,” Dagda said. “The door is merely opening for us.”
After the rumbling had subsided, the wheels in the center of the door began to grow. They expanded to the size of the grotto, each one disappearing into the next and creating a pathway for the two to pass.
Now, the entire door frame was gone, and a single, wide pathway was revealed, floating in the darkness. Without a word, Dagda stepped through.
Hesitantly, Khalid followed.
The priest glanced around at the darkness, looking for some form of support for the walkway. It was, apparently, suspended in thin air. It was well-lit, as if a line of bright lights ran along an invisible ceiling above. Try as he might, Khalid could not see any source of illumination. That was not surprising.
“Where are we?” he asked.
“This, my friend, is the Vault of the Earth. Here, we will find the doorway to our destination.”
“It’s just a walkway that appears to go nowhere,” Khalid mused.
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