Taragon Stein: The Search For The Soul Crystal

by Jason L Crocker

  “And what if it was TOUCHED BY FIRE this day?” I asked, my anger increasing.

  “Then it will stay that way for fifty days more,” assured the mage.

  “FIFTY DAYS!” I shrieked in alarm.

  “I did not ask you to touch the Moonglow,” said Jaramel helpfully.

  As I wiped my finger with no avail against the leather of my trousers, it was to the tune of Baram’s sniggering. Just as I was about to reprimand the big man for his lack of compassion, a door opened against the wall where previously there was none, and in walked the purple armour- wearing Galvian we had met earlier.

  Hiding my embarrassment behind my back, the Galvian shot me a suspicious look.

  “Crowmach awaits,” he announced and bade us enter through a now clearly visible Galvian sized door.

  With Jaramel and Baram following my lead, I entered through the doorway and into the grand hall of the Galvian King. Impressive was too weak a word for what awaited my eyes.

  Immensely larger than the size of the room we had just left, this room was also circular in shape, and painted with the same brush as before, but was much more extensive in its creation. Six towering columns of pure white stone, three to either side of us, soared upwards to support an impressive ceiling some hundred feet distant! Near to the base of each of the columns, and placed higher than even Galvian hands could reach, were four familiar looking half-bowl shaped containers. The light that issued forth from these vessels insured that no shadow in the great hall was left untouched by the light of the Moonglow.

  As we began crossing the polished flooring towards two large seated figures at the far end, I could not help but feel suddenly small and insignificant next to these beings whom we hardly knew anything about. My Kantarian history was vague at best, but I did not recall any mention of Galvians before ten years ago. Indeed they were the ones who had made my armour for me, but even that encounter was brief at best, and then I only had dealings with one of their number… There was still so much of this world that eluded me.

  Halfway across the smooth flooring, we came across a circular emblem embedded into the central area of the hall. It was the first marking I had seen of anything Galvian before and depicted a black full moon set against a magnificent silvery sun. As we passed over the standard, I managed to steal a better look at it, and quickly summarised that they had used real silver for the sun’s colouring! Given the size and shape of the design, the amount of wealth that lay beneath my feet could have happily sustained me for a couple of years, although what the actual standard symbolised was anyone’s guess.

  With our footsteps echoing all around, and my heart thumping in my throat, I raised my eyes from the emblem and turned my attention to the three Galvian sized thrones situated on a raised dais some twenty paces ahead. Even from this distance, the thrones looked exquisite in their design, carved from pure white stone, they definitely had the touch of a master craftsman about them. But my eyes did not linger too long over the seating, with only two of the three thrones were occupied and I found myself inexplicably drawn to the figure seated on the throne to the left, she was the first Galvian woman I think anyone had ever laid eyes upon…. and every inch of her eight-foot frame was magnificent!

  I had hardly the time to gauge the scale and exquisiteness of this dark-eyed beauty when the imposing figure of the Galvian King raised himself up from his place on the centre of the dais and spoke with a voice as deep as the earth as we approached.

  “Welcome Jaramel Ovin, welcome honoured guests, to the throne room of the Galvian Fanar!”

  By all accounts King Crowmach looked like a God! I thought it strange how my eyes had first passed over him in favour of his consort. But now there was no escaping him.

  In features, King Crowmach resembled all the other Galvians I had seen, tall, bald, and with a grey tint to his skin! Yet it was not the majestic silver armour he wore beneath an incredible cloak of white fur that made me think otherwise, nor was it the thin circlet of metal that adorned his head which made him King, or even the massive sword at his side which brought back unsettling memories of a Fangore to mind. No, instead it was something else that gave me this unwanted feeling of inferiority, something that had been experienced before when I was in the presence of other powerful beings.

  The Galvian that had accompanied us dropped to one knee, and Jaramel threw back his hood to reveal the boy within then greeted the king with that strange wizard salute he did so well, I felt compelled to do the same and gave the most gracious bow that I could manage

  “Lord Crowmach,” addressed Jaramel as he finished his greeting, “it is good to see you again.”

  “And you to master Ovin,” returned the King, “although I wish it were under more pleasing circumstances.” Even though King Crowmach spoke the human tongue with a deep and resounding tone, it sounded as if he had been speaking it his whole life. His eyes left Jaramel to wander inquiringly over the rest of our group.

  “Allow me to introduce Baram Oakengood,” enlightened Jaramel, “master weaponsmith of Ranak-Lore,” flattered the mage. The King gave a pleasing nod in his direction whilst Baram lurched forwards in an awkward bow.

  “And also Taragon Stein,” continued the apprentice with a pause “…who is currently in the service of King Silverstone.” This time Crowmach’s eyes lingered on me a little too long for my liking. I had also noticed that the Galvian woman’s eyes had been upon me since we entered into their presence, and what I first took for the look of inquiring curiosity that I had found so alluring in many other women before, I now found disconcerting. Had I somehow unknowingly offended these Galvians?

  It was then that I realised with all stupidity that they were not actually staring at me, rather than my illuminating fingertip!

  With an embarrassing cough, I quickly placed my hand behind my back once again and gave another more discreet bow.

  The King smiled with amusement. “We have heard your name whispered on the wind Mr Stein…you are most welcome.” I gave nod in reply, not yet willing to speak but feeling quite happy with the King’s words.

  Crowmach looked to his right. “This is Ula, my Queen,” as Ula gave a graceful nod, there was another round of bowing, at the mentioning of her name.

  “And Orin I believe you have already met.” I looked behind to see the purple wearing Galvian that had escorted us here give a small nod.

  Words of Galvian then passed between Crowmach and Orin before the King spoke again.

  “You must forgive me for the way which you were brought here, we Galvians are private race, but given the current situation, I am sure you understand.”

  I saw Jaramel nod from the corner of my eye. I had never felt comfortable around formalities and generally never had the time for them, so, for now, I was quite content to let Jaramel do all the talking.

  “All I will say in return,” added the King, “is feel secure in the knowledge that you are the first outsiders in over four hundred of your years to step foot into the great hall of the Galvian Fanar.”

  Four hundred years! I thought astonished, where had they been all this time? The mind puzzled.

  “Then you honour us greatly Lord Crowmach,” replied Jaramel “but you must forgive my impatience, as we have travelled all over Kantaria to journey here this day, and eagerly await news of Ranak-Lore?”

  The Galvian King nodded his head and sighed, then exchanging a look with his queen, reseated himself upon his throne.

  “I know what rests upon your hearts,” said Crowmach in a tone now worrying, “for it now rests greatly upon mine as well.”

  “Then you have allied yourself with the southern Kantarians?” I questioned in hope, before wondering if it was my place to or not.

  The King rolled his eyes to mine and nodded grimly.

  “We have, although… it may not be enough.”

  “What do you mean…” asked Baram nervously, “…is Ranak-lore…does it still…”

  “Your City still stands master weaponsmith,
” confirmed the King, “although I fear it is only a matter of time before it is otherwise.”

  “But your warriors do stand with those of the south’s?” I asked in an effort for a better understanding of the situation.

  Again the King confirmed with a nod.

  “They do Lord Stein, even now some of our warriors remain trapped within the city walls.”

  “Trapped?” enquired Jaramel. “Lord!” I thought to myself…

  “It is under siege master Jaramel,” returned Crowmach, “and has been now for several days.”

  “But what of the King’s army, “asked Jaramel, “ and master Luka?”

  The Galvian King took a deep breath and sighed.

  “To understand the state of affairs, we must go back several days hence.”

  King Crowmach looked once again to Ula, before starting his recollection of past events.

  “Shortly after the Galvians who had been working on the wall completed their task, I returned an acceptance of the terms of an alliance between our two peoples to King Silverstone. He was overjoyed with the news, and offered to hold a ceremony in honour of the those who had worked upon the wall to mark the occasion.”

  The Galvian leader shook his head.

  “This was six days ago. I was due to journey there on the very next day. But that night a thick mist rolled inland from the north, and by the time the moon was full in the sky, the strange fog had and entirely concealed your Valley of the Kings within its grasp. When morning came, the mist lifted. It was then we saw that the eastern gate to the valley had fallen, and Ranak-lore lay under siege by the armies of this Vorgannon…they had no warning of the impending attack,” continued Crowmach sorrowfully. “Even my scouts failed to reveal the approaching army until it was too late.”

  Jaramel looked down in despair. “Vorgannon has become powerful indeed if he is able to hide an entire army from the eyes of men.”

  “There is some solace to be had,” replied Crowmach with a hint of hope. “Your King was able to send scouts to the south at the very last moment, and even though the eastern gate that leads to your capital had fallen, the southern and western gates remain. It is now to this southern entrance, in the place which you call the Great Valley where many of your people gather. They are mostly conscripts I am led to believe, but there are also many southern soldiers amongst their number.”

  Jaramel nodded. “The garrison from Nashmere no doubt, as well as what the Governors of the South could muster.”

  “In total, they number over three thousand,” informed the King, “but as the southern gate keeps Vorgannon’s army from them, so too does it prevent them from Vorgannon’s army.”

  “How strong is the northern army?” I asked.

  “They are gathered in a mighty throng,” sighed Crowmach, “and are amassed deep in ranks that surround the city wall.”

  The awful realisation of truth, the truth that up until this point that we had all chosen to ignore, now finally broke through barriers of hope to descend upon our group like Wolverns to a kill. I am sure it affected Baram the most. I saw my old friend shrink in size as thoughts of Kendra weighed heavy in his soul.

  “Take heart,” said the King in consolation to our plight, “all is not yet lost. The mainstay of your army is still held within the city walls, as well as two hundred of my people who had worked upon the wall, and many of them are warriors who fight like ten of your own.”

  “Ten,” I thought eyeing the Galvian behind …I would have estimated at least twenty!

  “I also have three hundred more awaiting my command,” added Crowmach, “and just this day I received news that your fort along the Divide has broken their siege, and even as we speak are being led south by a red-headed southerner who answers to the King’s call.”

  “Talak!” I beamed with a grin.

  “Do you think it could be?” asked Baram.

  “Who else?” I argued back.

  Baram and Jaramel exchanged glances and allowed brief smiles to flit across their faces. It was at least comforting to know that he still lived.

  “But know the truth,” added Crowmach forebodingly, “even with this combined might, Ranak-Lore still faces an army three times its size, and because Vorgannon holds sway over the entire Valley, it is impossible for any one unit of south’s defence to reinforce the next.”

  “But what of your warriors?” asked Baram blindly, “cannot they do something to help?”

  “Indeed they can Mr Oakengood,” returned Crowmach with just a hint of annoyance, “I have my remaining warriors positioned near to Vorgannon’s back, but I will not send them on a fool’s errand, our numbers are too few as it is. No, to succeed in any sort of strategy, it is going to take a united effort from those within the City walls, and out for us to stand any hope of turning the tide of Vorgannon’s might!”

  “Forgive me,” replied Baram sheepishly, “I did not mean to sound disrespectful,” Baram added a small bow for sincerity. King Crowmach looked pleased by the gesture and nodded back in satisfied acceptance.

  “How fares the City now?” asked Jaramel.

  “It has already repelled two vast attacks upon its walls,” reported Crowmach. “One this very morning, but your archers seem to be doing an excellent job in keeping the land free from northerners about its perimeter, and I am sure your master Luka has something to do with the great balls of fire that rain down upon the enemy’s heads every so often.”

  By the smirk that appeared on Jaramel’s face, I knew that the apprentice wizard had taken some satisfaction from hearing this.

  King Crowmach then looked downcast as he prepared to speak again. “However, in spite of their valiant efforts, I am afraid that Ranak-Lore faces a new evil. Dark clouds are gathering above the city, and I fear that Vorgannon is amassing new malevolence.”

  “Dark clouds…” said Jaramel thoughtfully, “he intends to call forth lightning!” The mage looked up sharply and eyed the Galvian leader with a new anxiety.

  “Tell me Lord Crowmach,” he asked worryingly, “will your walls withstand the magic of Vorgannon?”

  The King of the Galvians considered the question for a moment, then shook his great head.

  “We know nothing of magic master Jaramel,” replied Crowmach. “Initially we had built the wall to withstand the might of men, as for any powers beyond that… I cannot say.”

  “Then what should we do?” implored Baram.

  “The only thing we can,” returned Crowmach resolutely, “and that is to continue to watch upon events from the Galvian Eye, and there await for an opportunity to strike.”

  “Galvian Eye?” Jaramel commented.

  The King nodded. “It is little more than a flat cleft amongst the cliffs in reality, but it allows us to keep watch over the entire Valley of the Kings’. It is from the Eye where we gather our information.”

  “Where is this Galvian Eye to be found?” pressed Jaramel further.

  King Crowmach paused in thought before offering a reply.

  “It is situated high above the ground, in a part of the mountains that make up the Valley of the Kings, north of your Capital.”

  “And from there you can see the events transpiring within the Valley?”

  “Clearly,” responded the King in reply to Jaramel’s questioning, “in relation to the valley it is centrally located, from the Eye we can even see some proceedings happening within the City walls.”

  Jaramel stopped his questioning and thought deeply for a moment before resuming them once again.

  “Is the climb to this Eye a difficult one?”

  “We do not climb master Jaramel, we walk.”

  Now I was intrigued, “Walk?” I questioned.

  I saw Crowmach’s eyes go past me to Orin, the Galvian King looked almost uncomfortable, and it was with some awkwardness that he gave his reply.

  “The eye was constructed by us Mr Stein, its purpose was to observe Ranak-Lore and its citizens, and in answer to your query, we have mined a tunnel w
hich leads directly to the eye from here.”

  This was news I did not expect. Not that the goings on of Ranak-lore concerned me. It was not as if they were spying on my home; I did not have one! But I was further intrigued by the Galvian King’s admission, and by the looks that were passed between Baram and Jaramel, so were they.

  “Forgive my ignorance King Crowmach,” I spoke with as much light-heartedness as the occasion would allow, but judging by the stony-faced looks upon the faces about me, this was not much! “But why would the Galvians be in need of such a place?”

  “Do not judge my King too hastily Lord Taragon,” It was Ula, the Galvian Queen who had spoken, and she did so with a voice as sweet as a honey cake. “To be able to answer your question, you must first know something of our past.”

  Queen Ula rose from her throne and moved to stand by her husband’s side. Her graceful steps were slow and precise, and each time that she moved, the simple gown of shimmering silver she wore would give revealing clues to the female form that lay hidden underneath. Slender in build, I noticed that although her skin was of course still grey, it was a much lighter shade than that of her male counterpart. As thoughts of Galvian women compatibilities to my own soiled my mind, the King had already returned a look which allowed Queen Ula to disclose her tale.

  Quickly raising my eyes from her hips, Queen Ula turned to face us.

  “It may surprise you to know Lord Taragon,” she began as dark eyes met mine, “that the Galvians did not always live within the earth. Long ago before the seed of man was ever sown upon the land above, we Galvians held dominion over the entire continent of what you now called Kantaria. In days long since past, we were unique in our rule, and the only other life to walk with us upon the earth were the beasts of the forests and the plains. There was no North; there was no South…there simply was.”

  Crowmach sat in deep contemplation as he listened to his wife’s words. One hand supported his chin, while his other fondled a small circular amulet that hung around his neck. I could not see the design of the amulet, but I did not need to, as a quick look to his Queen’s breast revealed a similarly shaped amulet hanging there, both depicted a black full moon set against a silvery sun.