The Blue Journal (Fantasmagoria Book 1)

by I. B. George

  They mercilessly attacked any traders travelling on the road between the two worlds and there were seldom any survivors among their victims.

  Savage, their bodies protected by skins and furs, their arms and faces covered in darkly coloured patterns, the Zafaris put on a terrifying show when they appeared silently from the mist, climbing down their ropes among the merchants or simply dangling above them, striking and then vanishing back into the gloom.

  The blood of their ancestors, banished for their cowardice or dishonesty in battle was weighing down on their conscience when they were attacking and hiding behind the mist.

  The Zafari tribe was the merciless enemy that Azar had feared ever since he’d heard they would be crossing the Misty Passage, an enemy he had faced before, many years ago and which he had now the misfortune of meeting again.

  ***

  Azar fended off at the last moment a Zafari warrior who flew above him, aiming to behead him. Silent as a shadow, the warrior came and went without a sound and the only noise that rang out was the clashing of the swords.

  Closed around Robert, the six friends were straining to see through the darkness and fog, trying to prepare themselves for the unseen attack.

  “Keep close! We must move towards the wall of the passage!” called Azar to the others.

  Watching over Robert all the time, they listened to the Master of Weapons and moved closer to the stony wall.

  Once under the protection of the rock, they breathed more easily. Now their back was covered, without the gaping gulf of the passage behind them, which they could have easily fallen into during their fight. Now too, the Zafari warriors were unable to fly over their heads and had to limit themselves to balancing from one side of the wall to the other.

  Azar explained in a few words about the Zafaris, apologising for not warning them in time of the peril. However, they knew that Azar had done that because he didn’t want his friends to worry. There was probably some amount of superstition as well as Azar didn’t want to bring bad luck by mentioning the Zafari tribe.

  “It’s alright, my friend”, said Voras simply while angrily waving the sword made for him by the blacksmiths in the Kingdom of Fire who were unrivalled ironmongers.

  He parried with force a hit by a Zafari who appeared suddenly from the mist, making him loose his balance. With a lightning twist of the sword, he slayed the attacker, making him scream in pain.

  A little to his left, Captain Vidar had already dispatched two of the aggressors, hitting consistently each time he heard a noise nearby.

  A scream rang out and Rolan fell to the ground, hit by a sword in his left shoulder. He steadied himself against his own sword and bit his teeth together as he got up. Robert tore a piece of cloth from a shirt he was carrying on his pommel and dressed Rolan’s wound, who thanked him with his eyes.

  The Zafari appeared from the mist and attacked from all directions, then quickly retreated. Akura jumped up and closed his jaw around one of the warriors’ feet. He dropped the rope he was using to climb down to attack and Captain Vidar, who was nearby, pushed his sword through the savage’s chest.

  Around them, the horses snuffled and kicked their hooves nervously, troubled by the commotion.

  Two Zafari warriors were speedily approaching the group of seven travellers, waving their swords. They were promptly confronted by Voras and by Rolan, who was already feeling a bit better, his left arm now in a sling.

  Azar picked up the sword of a Zafari he had killed earlier from the ground. He lifted his two swords menacingly and swung them like a windmill, heading towards a group of three warriors whose outline he could just about make out in the fog.

  He manoeuvred the weapons skilfully, parrying and attacking with dizzying speed. After a short while, the three attackers crashed to the ground, breathless.

  Trained by the many battles he had fought in his life, Captain Vidar was working methodically, counter-attacking the enemies’ charge. He didn’t have the ardour of his youth any longer, but with age came added patience, which helped him to remain calm in situations that might be otherwise considered hopeless.

  Voras was fighting shoulder to shoulder with Rolan, trying to protect the left side of Rolan’s shoulder. You could see on his white shirt a bloodstain which was getting bigger and bigger.

  “Robert!” called Azar and with a twist, he bent down and hit the legs of a Zafari who fell to the ground, howling in pain.

  “Yes, Master!” answered Robert.

  “We need your help. The Zafaris are moving around by using the ropes along the wall of the cliff. We don’t stand a chance if we let them descend upon us.”

  Robert understood what Azar wanted him to do. Followed by Voras, Akura and Vidar who kept guarding him, he came out of their makeshift shelter.

  He closed his eyes and focused on his Inner Fire. He felt the warmth crossing through his body, travelling to his arms and the flames appeared almost instantly in the cup of his hands.

  Robert aimed a steady and uninterrupted torrent of fire at the wall above his friends. Screams rang out as some of the Zafari warriors crashed onto the path, their clothes ablaze.

  Azar went towards them and ended their agony with a few strokes. He used his right hand to spin the sword from the wrist and his left hand to lift a ball of fire, which he kept calmly in his palm.

  Robert aimed a renewed torrent of flames towards the rock wall and he knew he had made new victims among the attackers when he heard the desperate cries of the Zafaris.

  The owl call rang out again and then all went quiet.

  Flanking Robert, they waited tensely for a renewed attack. The bodies of over twenty Zafaris lay sprawled in front of them. They could hear a few weak moans coming from the Zafaris who had been hurt during the battle.

  “What do you think, Master? Is it over?” whispered Radius to Azar.

  “I hope the damage we’ve caused will get them thinking. There is a possibility that they might regroup in order to attack again.”

  “Or maybe they’ve realised it’s not worth it, since we’re not carrying any goods that might interest them”, intervened Voras. “On the other hand, their loss was significant. I don’t think they expected such a riposte.”

  “The fire ignited by the prince was decisive”, confirmed Rolan. “Azar’s idea was great,” he added, turning to Robert who returned his smile.

  They camped there for a while longer, prepared for any attacks, but nothing troubled the silence surrounding the path to Akros.

  ***

  They left the place where the attack took place covered by the bodies of the dead Zafaris. They felt tired but happy to have made it through. They had been through some terrifying moments. Their thoughts turned to the thousands of traders who had perished, not standing a chance against the assaults of the Zafari warriors.

  As the first rays of dawn appeared and shone through the thick fog, the small group stopped. Radius nursed his friends’ wounds. He decided that, thankfully, not one of them was too serious, not even Rolan’s. He cleaned his cut, placed a few herbs from his bag on it and bandaged the wound with a clean cloth. With Robert’s help, Rolan changed his blood soaked shirt.

  “The cut will heal after a few days,” Radius told him. “But you must take care to protect your arm.”

  “I will be careful, Professor.”

  Azar came near them.

  “We’re approaching Akros, Professor. We’ll be there in a few hours. Not long now, and we’ll get out of this cursed mist too.”

  “Let’s just hope that our effort hasn’t been in vain and the person we’re meeting will give us the answers we need.”

  “I hope so too, Professor. It might be our only chance.”

  He looked at Robert who was sitting on a patch of grass reading his father’s journal.

  “The young prince did very well. I don’t think we would have made it without the Inner Fire.”

  “I’m sure Robert will have much more to offer by the end of our journey. He
really is an extraordinary young man.”

  “He controls the fire with extreme ease and he’s getting more and more confident. He didn’t lose his head even when he had to intervene right in the middle of the battle.”

  “His grandfather, King Neron would have been so proud.”

  “Indeed, Professor. Old King Neron always appreciated bravery on the battlefield. Also, he would have been so happy to have a male heir to the throne.”

  Robert was unaware that Azar and Radius were watching him. He rearranged a lock of hair that covered his forehead while thoughtfully reading through his father’s notes.

  He learned new things about his people, the organization of Sardar Castle and the love story between his parents. He read also about battles, about General Karon’s treason and the final days of the Eremon House.

  Among the notes made by his father in his journal, he was hoping to find some clues about the Blue Flame. He was hoping that in her last days, his mother might have shared with Aidan the secret that produced that most astonishing of the Eremon weapons.

  Perhaps in the end, this secret was going to be unravelled in his father’s notes.

  ***

  They set off again, filled with renewed hope. The mist was beginning to dispel as they neared the Upper Realm, unveiling the dizzying landscape of Elementis to the eyes of the seven friends.

  It was a pleasant day and nature was coming back to life, awakened by the warmth of the first rays of sun. Khar was circling above their heads, watching over them from the blue skies.

  Soon they were going to reach Akros, the place where Radius was hoping to find the solution to one of the challenges they had to overcome in order to fulfil the prophecy.

  The horses stepped leisurely into the plain that bordered the Upper Realm. Azar, still leading, showed them the way. He felt nervous because of the impending meeting with that person who was close to his heart but he hadn’t seen for almost eleven years.

  He knew every path in the land, including the crossroad that led to the territories of the three peoples in Akros.

  “Not long now. In about half an hour we should be entering the lands of the Khalari.”

  The place they were travelling through at the moment, right after the Misty Passage wasn’t claimed by any of the three clans that lived here. The borders of the three counties started at the crossroad where Robert and his companions were planning to go.

  Khar came down from the sky and landed onto the Professor’s right arm.

  “You’re just in time, Professor. Between the second and the third phase of the moon, like we agreed. Any inconveniences along the way?”

  “Yes, my friend. As a matter of fact, we were attacked, as Azar informed us, by a warrior tribe who lives in the caves along the Misty Passage. But we prevailed this time too. Rolan was hurt a bit, but he’s fine, the wound wasn’t deep.”

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t have been of any help,” lamented Khar.

  “It would have helped if we had been warned beforehand of the peril we had to face. Anyway, we didn’t do too badly and the prince was the hero of the day,” said Radius and then told Khar about the battle they fought half a day before.

  “Looks like the young prince has his own lucky star watching over him.”

  “If his fate has already been chosen by the prophecy of the oracle, then nothing and no-one will stand in his way. I hope though that we shall all stay together until the end.”

  “May the gods watch over us, Professor!”

  “May it be so, my dear Khar!”

  Azar put his right hand up, signalling to the group to stop.

  “We’ve reached the Crossroad. This is where the roads leading to the three counties of Akros start.”

  “I’m guessing you already know the road we have to take, right?” asked Voras tentatively.

  “The one on the left, friends. Follow me!”

  They rushed ahead, following Azar who was already on the road he had pointed. Ahead, on the horizon, there stood a majestic forest with stately, high trees which watched over the Khalari lands like soldiers.

  A little later, they went into the forest and were instantly met with the fresh air and coolness that reigned within. Azar knew where to go and chose without faltering the best paths to follow.

  They had been going into the depths of the forest for half an hour. Azar didn’t know exactly where the meeting place was, but he urged his companions to go straight on towards the castle of the Khalari king.

  An arrow buzzed through the air landing by the feet of his horse who jumped back in fright, while a voice rang out:

  “You’ve gone far enough, honoured men. Who are you and what business do you have in Khalari?”

  “We’re coming from a long way away. Elementis!” called Radius, trying to make out the place where the voice came from. “We wish to see Queen Aryana!”

  There was no reply to the Professor’s words. At last, they heard the noise of horse hooves and from the thicket out came three riders accompanying a lady dressed as a warrior.

  They headed to the small group and stopped in front of Radius. The lady was tall and slender. You could tell she was used to sitting up in the saddle and on the pommel, there hung a large sword with a handle covered in golden filigree.[16]

  The lady scrutinised them, resting her eyes for a moment on Robert, then turned to Radius.

  “I am Queen Aryana,” she uttered in a soft voice, contrasting with her warrior look. “Judging from the messenger resting on your arm, I assume I’m looking at Professor Radius. Am I right?”

  “I’m honoured, Your Highness! I offer you my respects and you have my wholehearted gratitude for agreeing to meet us.”

  “Master Azar,” said the queen, “I’m glad to see you again.”

  “The pleasure is all mine, Your Majesty. I’m happy to be near Your Highness.”

  The queen smiled at him kindly, then turned to Robert.

  “And this must be Prince Robert Eremon, the person everyone has been talking about lately in Fantasmagoria.”

  “Exactly, Your Majesty,” confirmed Radius.

  He then turned to Robert.

  “Prince, I have the honour to present to you Queen Aryana, the ruler of the Khalari people and the sister of Queen Neri, your mother.”

  Chapter 7

  Aryana Tanaris

  Robert was astounded by what the Professor had just said. He couldn’t believe he was standing in front of a member of the Eremons. His aunt, his mother’s sister no less.

  He was so confused by this new information that he couldn’t utter a word.

  “The prince looks lost for words,” said Rolan in amusement.

  Robert turned to him, looking more amazed than ever, unable to answer.

  Ever since he’d reached Fantasmagoria he had been told that he was the last remaining member of the Eremon House and now he was learning that a blood relative was still alive. He felt overcome by a surge of pure happiness as he realised he wasn’t alone in this world.

  Aryana dismounted and approached Robert.

  “Nephew, I imagined you would be happier to see me,” she said, ruffling his hair.

  Robert watched her in bewilderment.

  “I’m sorry,” he mumbled at last. “It’s just… I wasn’t expecting it. I was convinced that I was the last member of the Eremons, and now I hear that that’s not quite true. Don’t get me wrong… I am beyond happy… It’s just that…”

  He stopped, searching for words, not knowing what to say first, especially now that he was beginning to feel the warmth flooding his soul after the shock of the news had waned.

  She’s pretty, he thought, looking at Aryana. I wonder if my mother was as beautiful as she.

  Although she was over the age of thirty five, her figure remained slender, testimony of the fact that she must have been more used to handling weapons than sewing or gardening.

  She was gracefully and proudly wearing a soldierly outfit, made up of leather boots and a skirt
with beautifully ornate metallic armour. Her black hair, shot with blue hues, was tied up in a ponytail that rested quietly down the back of the Queen of Akros.

  However, what fascinated Robert most were the green emerald eyes that sparkled gaily as she watched him.

  “I have so many questions for you… about Mother, about Grandfather, the family… I don’t even know where to start…”

  Aryana smiled as she hugged him tightly.

  “There’s time for all that, Robert. We will speak at length and I will gladly answer any question that might trouble you and to which you have had no answer until now. Now though,” she added turning to the others, “you are all invited to my castle. It’s time to show that even the savages of Akros know how to treat a guest.”

  “Your Majesty’s wise words are nourishment for my soul… I do hope we shall find some food for our stomachs too at the end of this road,” said Rolan with a waggish face.

  Aryana signalled to the three riders who accompanied her. One of them approached, holding the reigns to the Queen’s white stallion and she mounted, jumping with ease onto the richly decorated saddle.

  At the back of the blanket that lay under the saddle there was a glimpse of an embroidered falcon’s head with two crossed swords underneath it. The people of Akros knew that this was the coat of arms of the Tanaris clan who had been ruling over the Khalari for over two hundred years.

  Two of the riders flanked the group made up of the seven friends, while the third one guarded the rear. Queen Aryana, with Robert and Radius by her side, gave the signal to depart and the whole group started moving along the road that led to Nargor Castle, the Tanaris residence.

  ***

  All the windows at Nargor Castle sparkled magically, spreading a happy glow across its surroundings. Torches flickered in the courtyard and along the corridors, giving out a pale glimmer that shimmered across the walls of Nargor.

  The grand banqueting hall was lit by ten chandeliers with hundreds of huge candles, all ready to turn night into day until the last guest has departed.