The Blue Journal (Fantasmagoria Book 1)

by I. B. George

  Round about midday, Robert and his companions reached Bakar. The bustle near the little town on the border of Akros provided the perfect cover-up for their little assembly. No one gave a second thought to the seven travellers riding along quietly without drawing attention to themselves. Their hooded capes made them look like pilgrims gathering alms for one of the many temples in Elementis.

  They entered through the main gate of the citadel, squeezing through the throng of people, carts and horses which passed that way. Voras was leading the group, guiding his friends through the web of stalls and merchants calling their wares above each other’s voices.

  Robert was astounded by the chaos around him. He had never seen such agitation, not even at his village fair. Traders from all kingdoms were competing with their colourful slogans extolling the virtues of the goods on sale.

  After a while, Voras went into a large courtyard which had its gate open to allow free movement for possible customers. Robert pulled his horse’s bridle and followed his friends inside.

  Quilar, a pot-bellied man dressed in rich clothes, displaying a permanent grin on his face, was shouting out orders to his helpers.

  “Hurry up, you lazy lot! If you want to work for Quilar you’d better not keep any customers waiting”.

  The lads started running around, fulfilling their master’s wishes. The truth was they were well paid and being part of Quilar’s staff meant a lot to each of them. This job made it possible for them to find a good wife later on, maybe even someone from the town’s most prominent families because everyone knew that when you were working for Quilar you learnt the art of trading and you were also able to put some money aside.

  Quilar heard the noise of horses’ hooves trotting into the cobbled courtyard. He turned around smiling, as he always did when he had new customers, but the grin disappeared from his face when he laid eyes on the group coming in.

  Damn… pilgrims! he thought. These ragamuffins never have any money to spend and usually they come in asking for alms.

  “Your Graces!” he called out, smiling again. “What brings you to Quilar’s humble store?”

  “Is this how you greet old friends, shopkeeper?” reprimanded Voras, removing his hood.

  “Voras!” mumbled Quilar in surprise.

  Voras dismounted and approached him.

  “That’s right, my friend”, he said and gave Quilar a big hug. “I’m happy to see you again”.

  “Me too, old man”, replied Quilar happily.

  “You’re getting chubbier every day and you’re starting to look like a barrel of Akros wine”, laughed Voras. “You must be doing well for yourself, am I right?”

  “I can’t complain. I’m still the biggest trader in the kingdom. How about you? What brings you here? Last time we saw each other was after the war, almost seven years ago”.

  “Eight”, corrected Voras. “I came to ask for your help. But I think we’d better talk somewhere more quiet”.

  Hm, Voras has always been a dreamer and I always had to get him out of trouble. His whole life he’s had this bad habit of making worthless deals. I wonder what headache is he going to give me this time, Quilar thought.

  “Let’s go into the shop then. We can talk there in peace”, he smiled and beckoned everyone to follow him with a wide gesture.

  They went into the house and Quilar opened the door to a room which acted as his study. He sat on a large wooden chair resembling a throne.

  “How can I help, my friend?”

  Voras went straight to the point without beating around the bush or wasting time with polite small talk.

  “Have you heard of the prophecy of the Oracle of Konaar made ten years ago?”

  “The one about… yes, I have”, he answered as Voras confirmed with a slight nod that he was right in guessing which prophecy he was talking about. “I know that the time is near and the king feels unsettled about it. I’ve even heard rumours about the young Prince of Eremon having reached Fantasmagoria, confirming thus the Oracle’s prophecy through his presence”.

  “You’re well informed, my friend”.

  “My business requires me to be up to date with everything Voras, otherwise I wouldn’t be the best merchant in the kingdom. If that’s how things are and the prince is now in Elementis, I would have to think twice before doing business with Tyreas. The Oracle of Konaar has never been wrong before. Although, at least for the last couple of years, the king has proved to be full of resources, so… you never know. Anyway, why do you ask about the Oracle’s prophecy?”

  Voras turned to his friends.

  “Because, my dear friend, I’d like you to meet Prince Robert of Eremon, the heir to the Kingdom of Fire. And I’d like to ask for your help on his behalf”.

  Rolan and Azar made way for Robert, who until then stood quietly behind them, keeping his hood over his face.

  “Pleased to meet you, honourable Quilar”, said Robert, removing his hood.

  “By all gods, Your Highness”, uttered Quilar in a nervous voice. “I’m honoured to have you here. You’re the first king that has ever stepped into Quilar’s shop”.

  “I’m not the king yet, Sir”, answered Robert simply.

  “But you, my friend, might be able to do something about that”, added Voras.

  Quilar watched him in bewilderment. Just as I thought: Voras always gets himself into trouble over nothing. On the other hand, if I lend a hand in reinstating the Eremons to the throne of the Kingdom of Fire, my fame would be even greater and I could get access to the coalmines in the area. Looks like Voras has finally brought along a goldmine after all.

  “For you, Voras, I would do anything”, he answered sweetly after considering his options. “Just tell me what is it I can do to help”.

  “If you’ll allow me, honourable Quilar”, interrupted the Professor, spreading the map of Fantasmagoria on the table. “We need to reach here”, he said and gestured to the checkpoint at the Misty Passage.

  “You want to go to Akros?!” uttered Quilar in surprise. “But I thought…”

  “We shall go there later”, replied Radius, suspecting that the merchant wanted to remind them of the frozen area where the people of the Kingdom of Fire had been exiled.

  “But still, I was thinking that there’s little time left until the fourth phase of the moon… and so, I didn’t think there was any time to spare…”

  “No, there isn’t… it’s just that we need to do something before we get to…”

  “The Boundary”, said Quilar.

  “Which Boundary?” asked Azar.

  “The frozen area where His Highness, Prince Eremon’s people have been banished. That’s how the merchants call it. Nobody ventures into that wilderness and that’s why it’s been named the Boundary. That’s where civilisation ends. The Forgotten Outpost is the nearest place to the Boundary”.

  “What is the Forgotten Outpost?”

  “When the people of the Kingdom of Fire were banished, a soldiers’ unit built a small fort in order to supervise them on their route to the Border. For a few years a large garrison was stationed there. But, as time went by, the troops were pulled out. There are only around eight or ten soldiers left in that forgotten place, who get relieved twice a year. Once a month, they send their reports on the state of the exiles to Heldor”.

  “I had no knowledge of the Forgotten Outpost”, said Radius.

  “You had no reason to”, replied Quilar, “Nobody ever mentions that place. Those who get stationed there turn almost savage throughout the six months they spend away from any sign of civilization”.

  “Going back to our problem, Quilar, my friend, do you think you can help us?”

  Quilar scratched the top of his head as though he was thinking. In fact, he had already decided to help them when he considered the advantages he could have benefited from in the future.

  “Thinking this through, I think I might be able to do something. I will make available to you a cart with some goods, such as wine barrels fr
om the Kingdom of Clouds. They had a rich harvest this year, so I could spare part of the merchandise I bought. It’s only a tiny loss, I won’t miss it”.

  “Still thinking like a businessman”, smiled Voras.

  “I have to”, confirmed Quilar with a chuckle, “or else I wouldn’t be one”.

  “How long until you can deliver your promise, do you think?” enquired Radius.

  “Two days, I should think… is that ok?”

  “That is good… we shall see you in two days. Until then…”

  Radius didn’t get to finish his sentence as Azar jumped up from his place, ran towards the door and jerked it open. He looked around the waiting room, scrutinizing every corner. He came back in and closed the door behind him.

  “I could have sworn someone was eavesdropping behind the door”, he mumbled.

  “It’s possible”, said Quilar, “King Tyreas has a spy on every corner. We must be careful. I’ll take care of everything… until then however I am asking you to be my guests. Darya is dying to see you, Voras”.

  Voras fondly remembered Darya, his friend’s wife. She was a beautiful woman, a good homemaker who kept the household running while Quilar was away on business, which happened all too frequently.

  “I will also be very pleased to see her again, Quilar. We’re delighted to be your guests”.

  “I’ll call someone to show you the way”.

  “No need for that, Quilar, I can still remember which way to go”.

  “Well then, we’ll see each other tonight”, concluded Quilar and thus ended the conversation by getting up from his chair.

  The others stood up as well and went for the door. They came out into the store’s courtyard where some of Quilar’s stable boys had brought the horses. They pulled their hoods up once more and mounted their steeds who were well rested now.

  “Follow me, friends!” called out Voras, going through the gate.

  From a corner of the yard, one of Quilar’s servants came into sight. He had been watching them from the shadows.

  ***

  The reputable Quilar’s house was situated outside the fortress walls, away from the commercial bustle of Bakar. Anyone would have been able to tell that it was the property of a rich man from the way the house and the yard around it were kept. Darya ran the household with a strong hand but all those working for her did so with pleasure because despite her sharp temper, the lady of the house was a kind and compassionate woman.

  The white walls, newly renovated, brought to mind a peaceful oasis in which to relax away from the buzz of the city.

  A few hours after noon, the travellers going to Bakar could see a small assembly galloping towards Quilar’s place. With their faces hidden behind the hoods of their capes, the pilgrims – what else could they be? – were nearing the house where Darya ruled. Nobody was surprised at the sight of this party as everybody knew that the merchant was always making generous donations to the temples in Fantasmagoria so as to ensure the protection of the gods over his business.

  Raising the dust on their way, the riders clattered into the courtyard which was surrounded by a high stone fence and could have been turned into a fortress in times of need, by closing the huge iron gates at the entrance.

  Looking puzzled, Darya came out of the house and sheltering her eyes with her hand, tried to make out the faces of her visitors. Just like the others who had seen this small assembly, she had no doubt that they were no more than mere pilgrims drawn to the place by her husband’s reputation as a benefactor to the holy places.

  She went back towards the house to get a bag of golden coins, when she heard a familiar voice which made her freeze to the spot.

  “We’ve come a long way to pay our respects to the lady of the house!”

  “Voras!” called out Darya, turning around with a smile that lit up her whole face. “Welcome!”

  Voras dismounted and pulled his hood back, revealing his face. He then headed towards Darya who came to greet him and gave her a warm hug.

  “You’ve grown old”, said Darya as she detached herself from his arms.

  “Whereas you get younger by the day, Darya”, he replied gallantly.

  Darya chuckled, revealing white teeth, her eyes sparkling with joy.

  “Darya, I must introduce you to my travelling companions”, said Voras, turning towards his friends.

  He introduced each of them, first Radius, then Rolan, Azar, Akura and Vidar, stopping at last at little Robert.

  “And who is this charming young man?” asked Darya with a smile.

  “Darya, I have the pleasure of introducing to you Prince Robert Eremon, the rightful heir of the Kingdom of Fire.”

  Darya widened her eyes in surprise and curtsied involuntarily before Robert.

  The prophecy, she thought, suddenly making the connection between Robert’s presence and the foretelling of the Konaar Oracle.

  “Your Highness, I am delighted to welcome you to my humble home!”

  Robert hugged her and thanked her for her warm welcome, making her blush with pleasure when hearing his words.

  She then invited them in, calling the servants who rushed to their mistress’s orders. She led each of them herself to their rooms, asking them to give her the honour of attending the dining room on the ground floor, after they had rested.

  A few moments later the seven friends were transported into dreamland by the soft beds and the lavender fragranced linen.

  ***

  Robert and his companions woke up feeling refreshed by their long and restful sleep. There had been so many days of sleeping in inhospitable places and each of them took full advantage of their short period of rest. Who knew when the next opportunity would be to put their feet up in a place such as this one, considering what a long and perilous journey awaited them.

  Finally, half an hour later, they congregated in the dining room. The two hosts, Quilar and Darya, went beyond themselves to organise a true feast.

  They noticed that Azar was missing and Darya sent one of the servants to look for him. They decided that whilst waiting for Azar to return they should start their meal.

  Voras thanked the hosts for their hospitality and for the wonderful food they had laid out alongside which there reigned a few tempting flasks of wine from Akros. He then thanked Quilar for his promised help and they toasted their old friendship.

  The servant came back and approached Darya, whispering to her that Azar was nowhere to be found. His clothes and weapons were not in his room.

  That’s bizarre! thought Radius, knowing that Azar never disappeared like that, without a word. “I suggest we eat, my friends. If Azar went off without saying anything, then he must have had a good reason to do so”.

  Deep down, however, the Professor was worried. Ever since he’d met Robert, Azar had never let him out of his sight, regarding himself as personally responsible for his safety. As one of the few survivors of the massacre at Sardar Castle and in his role as master of arms at the royal court, as well as a friend of the Eremon House, he somehow considered himself as the only living relative.

  Adding to that, Robert’s instinctive talent with handling weapons and fire had made old Azar become even more attached to the little prince, whom he had come to love like a son.

  In the end, the hosts decided to start serving the meal even though Master Azar’s disappearance continued to worry everybody there.

  ***

  Grodor was the right hand man of the famed Quilar and he was the one who took care of the business while he was away. The sun was about to set and Quilar was counting the stock, ready for closing.

  The illustrious Quilar had left earlier on, rushing to get home so he could attend to his guests who had come from afar. Normally, every night Quilar closed the shop himself, except when his presence elsewhere was required.

  Grodor had grown up with the merchant and had started off as a street seller on one of his numerous stalls in the Main Market of Bakar. After a short while he had become Quilar’
s most trusted man as he proved himself through his cleverness.

  Grodor was amazed to learn who the guests that Master Quilar had received into his home were. Already there had been rumours spreading around the kingdom about Prince Eremon’s return and the imminent approach of the prophecy’s fulfilment.

  Pressing his ear close against the door of the study, Grodor was able to hear everything being discussed inside and he was aware now of the details of their plan to get to Akros.

  He realised this was his chance to get rich overnight and he was convinced that such a secret was bound to bring a suitable reward. He decided at once that come nightfall he would go to the town’s garrison and communicate his findings to the commander in charge.

  The law passed by King Tyreas was clear about traitors: they would be sentenced to life imprisonment or killed and all their possessions would be confiscated. Grodor was hopeful that, by saving the king’s life, he would gain access to Quilar’s estate.

  He waited patiently for nightfall when the shop would close, knowing that the seven travellers were going to stay on for another two days at his master’s house. Thinking that his absence might raise suspicions, he didn’t rush to go and inform the garrison. His heart pounding wildly every time he thought about this sudden opportunity, he went about his business as usual that day.

  Shutting the store calmly, he double-checked the windows and the front door. The merchant’s employees were heading back to their homes, calling goodbye on their way out and, as the last one came out into the yard, Grodor closed the gates and secured the giant lock that kept the heavy chains in place.

  Then he started slowly towards the town garrison, carefully taking a hidden path, in case someone decided to follow him. From time to time he would glance over his shoulder, scrutinizing the darkness of the road, which was poorly lit by the moonlight and the few torches placed every other few paces.

  He couldn’t see or hear anything. Sometimes he stopped suddenly and hid into the shadow of a house, trying to catch the noise of footsteps behind him.