Taragon Stein: The Search For The Soul Crystal

by Jason L Crocker

  “It was a time of great prosperity,” continued Ula, “we knew not the meaning of war, no warriors made up our numbers, and no weapons saw Galvian hands. Instead, we spent our energies wisely and furthered our understanding in the realms of all knowledge before constructing great cities to house the intellectuals that were the true Galvians. Our history dictates that during this time not one Galvian had the need for want… We thought ourselves to be a truly favoured race.”

  Queen Ula’s mood then changed as she looked to her own amulet, and to some stark reminder of past events.

  “But like so much in life, a balance must be kept. And the pendulum of our fate swung against us the day the Reskillian appeared on these shores. At first, we were cautious, but we quickly found them to be intriguing. At last after being alone for so long here was another sentient being that we could converse with other than ourselves. We offered them kindness and trust, as is…or as was the Galvian way.

  But all too quickly their numbers spread. Like a plague spreading across the land, they co-habited in our cities in far greater numbers than we could have foreseen.

  Too late we realised the horror of their true intentions… and it was on a day which turned to night when the heavenly body of Salan was concealed by Erthos when they attacked! Sixty thousand Galvian men, women, and children were slaughtered at the hands of the Reskillian on that first dark day alone, another hundred thousand more on the next.”

  Crowmach’s bride cast her eyes over our party in pause. The deep black pupils I had first found so alluring now reflected a sadness I could not comprehend.

  “After an age of peace, we were forced to harden our hearts and fight back in a war of bloody vengeance. Over the course of the hundred of your years that followed, the lives of countless thousands of Galvians would cease to be. When enough of our blood had been spilt, the Reskillian were killed to the last. All trace of their existence was destroyed. We had paid the price for trust…and the price had been high. Our Cities lay in ruins. Our numbers decimated to the brink of extinction.”

  Ula turned briefly to view her King, but his posture had not changed from that of before, he still sat deep in thought, lost in the shadow of his people’s past.

  “But like our bodies, our determination was strong,” continued Ula turning to face us, “and we started gathering what was left of our shattered civilisation in the hope of a brighter future. It was during this time of reflection when the first of your kind appeared before us. We were wary at first of course. But unlike the twisted form of the Reskillian he resembled in image one similar to our own, and over time this human gained our confidence. We soon came to realise that he possessed powers the likes of which were beyond our understanding. With hindsight we now know that he was a Chosen made flesh, for he held dominion over all beasts, and could even change the shape of the land at will, it seemed even that Salan and Erthos obeyed his every command, as night would turn to day if he so wished it, nothing it seemed was beyond his power. In our tongue he was known as Galthin tel Acrim, the Light in the Darkness, in your language he is known to you as Baros.”

  “BAROS!” Cried Jaramel as his face drained of colour.

  “Baros!” he then said again to himself in stunned repetition.

  The Queen of the Galvians smiled warmly and gave a graceful nod.

  “Galthin tel Acrim wore his heart openly and was a friend to all Galvians and to all living things. Our history tells us that he was amongst our people for only the darkest part of our history. But before he vanished from this world he gifted us with a vision. Here we saw the arrival of man. Here we saw how you would spread across the face of Kantaria and build cities in your own designs. Here we witnessed how you would wage war against the brother of your kind and kill for the pleasure of gain. But here was also hope, as brief glimpses of a prosperous future with your race were also revealed to our eyes. Baros disappeared from Kantaria shortly after his vision had planted a seed of both hope and doubt into our hearts. We had no doubt that the visualisations we had seen were true, but we also know nothing is certain. What if like the Reskillian, you too would seek to extinguish the flame of our life. It was a risk we were not able, and not willing to take. So we fled to the one place men’s eyes could not follow, and we have remained here ever since. So in closing, I say to you once again, do not judge us too harshly.”

  The history of the Galvians had been laid bare before us in the five minutes it had taken Queen Ula to convey her tale, although I was sure that there was a lot more to it than that, at least now I understood the reasons why the Galvians were being so understandably cautious.

  “My lady,” I said graciously, “forgive my misconceptions. I see now that you have suffered much, and I can only wish for you a brighter future.”

  “As our standard reflects Lord Taragon,” acknowledged the Queen.

  With that, the impressive monarch of the Galvians returned to her seat and retook a posture as if she had not moved.

  King Crowmach looked at her once before turning to face us.

  “Knowing something of our past,” said Crowmach solemnly, “unfortunately does not help us with the present.”

  An uneasy quiet descended around the hall as we all thought of something to suggest for our next course of action. As for myself, the only reoccurring thought to pass through my head had the words “Fool’s errand” attached to it. But finally Jaramel broke the silence and spoke. Throughout the Queen’s speech, I had noticed that our apprentice wizard seemed to have hardly heard a word of what had been said. Instead his expression mirrored that of the King’s and had looked deeply concerned about something.

  “My Lord Crowmach,” began Jaramel, “you say that this Galvian eye overlooks a central area upon the Valley of the Kings.”

  “It does,” returned Crowmach.

  “And it’s not at too great a height, but is unassailable nevertheless.”

  “Again that is correct,” answered Crowmach, “but I fail to see where this is leading master Jaramel. As I have said, it is merely a place to use for observation.”

  I was not sure where this was leading either. But knowing Jaramel, it probably had something to do with magic! Maybe he intended to teleport us all into the city or some such thing. I did hear of a wizard from Ashcorn attempting it once, but as far as I can remember, that particular incident did not work out too well, particularly for the wizard!

  Jaramel looked to both Baram and me in turn.

  “You must now both forgive me,” said the mage in surprise, “I must now converse with Lord Crowmach using the Galvian tongue, as some things are easier said this way.”

  “Converse away,” I replied with wit, “I am sure Baram and I can find something to amuse ourselves within this empty hall.”

  A slight frown appeared on apprentice’s brow before he turned back to the King of the Galvians and started communicating with him in their native tongue.

  Jaramel continued to speak for some moments, while Crowmach listened. The only clues I could gather from how their conversation was progressing were the facial expression and tone of voice that was returned from the Galvian King every so often. Interpreting this, I summarised that Jaramel had managed to surprise, concern, alarm and even throw the eight-foot giant into an area of doubt before the King apparently conceded defeat with an agreeing nod and a look that could have only been one of admiration for the young mage.

  With the conversation seemingly over, Crowmach raised himself from his throne and stood as a towering giant before us.

  “Then I wish well in your endeavours master Jaramel,” he announced, “and we shall eagerly await your signal, Orin here shall make the necessary arrangements.”

  With that, Jaramel bowed low before the sovereign leaders and once again shrouded his head before turning to follow Orin back out of the hall room of the Galvin Fanar. This left Baram and I standing before the monarchs like beggars in a breeze, and after blank looks were exchanged between us, we too made our own hurried gestures
for our leave before turning to quickly follow the departing figures of Orin and Jaramel as they strode their way across the great hall.

  No one talked until we had re-entered the connecting antechamber, and Orin had disappeared through a southern door to once again gather the Galvians who would secure our blindfolds.

  I turned to view our apprentice. He stood motionless in the centre of the circular room, but somehow seemed more focused than before, as if a doubt that had clouded his mind had been suddenly resolved to allow him to see more clearly.

  “I generally do not mind being kept in the dark,” I said aloud, “especially when I am trying to conceal myself. But would you mind just shedding a little light upon what has been discussed.”

  Jaramel said nothing. I looked to Baram who just shrugged blankly back.

  “I have just arranged for us to be taken to the Galvian Eye,” said Jaramel suddenly, “along with all our possessions.”

  “Ah! So you do intend to use your magic to get us within the City.” I returned smugly.

  “No, that would be an impossible task for me to accomplish,” replied the apprentice, “I know now that there is no way for us to get the Soul Crystal to master Luka in time.”

  “Bahh!” snorted Baram, “then what good is it going to do us observing the battle from this Eye place. At least let us be on the ground where my axe can do some good.”

  Five Galvians then entered the room. Three carried blindfolds and moved into positions to stand behind us. Orin was there also, and I noticed that the fifth Galvian who was dressed in brown cloth had our possessions slung over his shoulders, whilst clutching an enormous silver longbow.

  “The answer to that master weaponsmith,” replied Jaramel as he turned from Baram to face me, “is simple, for I intend to call forth the Bane Demon myself.”

  It was then that my world went dark once more…

  Chapter Nineteen:

  A lot of things raced through my mind as I was blindly led along the twisting turns of the Galvian's home to whatever future awaited the south, and more immediately the besieged city of the Capital.

  I thought about Jaramel’s last words before the Galvians had blindfolded us, and how he intended to summon forth the Bane Demon from whatever dark place it currently dwelled. I thought about Kendra, and whether Baram would ever get the chance to embrace the red headed beauty, he hoped to one-day call wife again. I thought about my reward, the five hundred gold pieces, a virtual King’s ransom, and whether I too would get the chance to welcome MY one true love into my embrace. But currently my thoughts concerned the Galvians, I could not help but wonder as we trekked along these exhaustingly long underground tunnels of theirs if these subterranean giants had dug any of their passageways to extend as far into the northern territories? What a difference that would have made to our journey. I must be sure to ask one of them in case I ever have the need to travel to the north of the continent at some future date, providing of course that I had a future!

  As my mind darkened and returned to the real issue at hand concerning Jaramel and the Soul Crystal, we came to an abrupt halt, so much so that amongst my musings I walked unexpectedly into the walled back of the Galvian in front. The impact was quickly met with a disgruntled huff as large hands on the back of my head fumbled awkwardly with the knot in my blindfold. Shortly after my sight was restored for the second time this day, I eyed my new surroundings through adjusting vision.

  It appeared that we now stood within a curving tunnel, no surprise there. But this was the sort of tunnel structure that I was familiar with, no curved walls of illuminating silvery moonlight adorned these rough and jagged walls, no polished smooth flooring lay underfoot either, instead just the comfort to be found in cold solid rock and the familiarity of sandy earth underfoot. The Moonglow containers that lit our way previously were also absent, instead our light was now provided by the burning torches that the Galvians held, although to be fair a second source of illumination was supplied by my own Moonglow enhanced finger which was currently emitting a personal sphere of radiance that I could have best done without! As Orin started to speak, I caught sight of the grin on Baram’s face.

  “This is as far as I will go,” announced the Galvian, “Trevlock here will take you the rest of the way to the Eye, it is not far.” The Galvian archer who I had noticed earlier gave a short bow at the mentioning of his name, just as two other Galvians lowered our saddle packs and weapons to the ground. I took no time in reacquainting myself with my trusty sword and crossbow, my magical buckler was also there, and although I did not expect to be doing any hand-to-hand combat in the near future, I still slid its comforting warmth along my arm nevertheless. Baram stooped to retrieve his long staffed battle-axe, then secured it with little difficulty within the holding harness he had made for it, and as for our mage, he rummaged amongst the remaining items and obtained the rolled piece of fur that concealed either our salvation or our doom.

  “I will now return to my men,” continued Orin. “The rest of my warriors shall await you here, for if you return in victory or defeat, our home must remain hidden.”

  “We understand,” responded Jaramel, although I was still intrigued by what they were actually hiding…

  Orin then strode to Jaramel’s side.

  “I believe it is at times like these when your people wish you luck on such occasions.”

  “They have been known to do so,” answered Jaramel.

  “Then I wish you such luck,” returned Orin, “and I go now to await your signal with hope.” With that, Orin gave a bow and turned to vanish quickly back along the tunnel. Moments later and we had left the remaining Galvians sitting at the turn in the bend, whilst we headed onwards under Trevlock’s guidance. It did not take long before another corner presented itself that turned sharply into a wind filled sloping tunnel that inclined steadily upwards. As Trevlock entered into this new passageway, there was time enough to exchange a brief look of unspoken words between my two companions before the three of us followed after.

  After ten minutes of walking in a refreshing breeze, the first signs of trouble ahead presented themselves. Tiny fragments of rock in the tunnel’s ceiling were being shaken loose at regular intervals by some unseen thing. Shortly after vibrations could be felt pulsating throughout the ground, but it was not until I heard the steadily increasing beat that I guessed at what was happening. I suspected that the northern warriors were executing the Khor-Tha-Roar. I had overheard it being discussed by southern soldiers in a tavern some time ago. Never actually witnessing for myself, it is a tactic used by northern warriors that is designed to unnerve the opponent and instil them with fear. The main actions to this would involve stamping your foot upon the ground at the same time as banging the flat of your weapon against a shield, in an effort to create a unified sound. In smaller numbers, it was generally ineffective, but since we still had another hundred paces or so to go until we reached an opening of light that could be seen up ahead, I guessed they had the numbers.

  With every step taken the increasing crescendo of the Khor-Tha-Roar shook our bones and made us quicken our pace, but as we neared the end of the incline the sound of the beat was silenced and replaced instead with a deafening crackle that could only have come from a magical outburst!

  Upon hearing this new sound, Jaramel broke into a full run closely followed by Baram. It did not take them long to bypass a surprised looking Galvian and disappear through the opening ahead.

  As the Khor-Tha-Roar echoed once more, I ran after. Passing the Galvian who was still content at a walk, I ran through the opening and out into a strange light of the day’s afternoon. After being blindfolded and underground for so long, it came as a welcome relief to be in the open once again, but the relief did not last long…

  The Galvian Eye I found was little more than a large flat rock-strewn recess that had been seemingly carved into the side of the mountain, it was some thirty paces wide, and twenty deep, with enough headroom to allow for a Galvian’s height
.

  As the wind whipped all about me, I quickly sought out the two motionless outlines of Baram and Jaramel. They were standing peering downwards, twenty paces to my left near the Eye’s edge. But my sight was lifted past my companions and was drawn instead towards ominous dark clouds that hung strangely unmoving, and low in the sky above. This was an unnerving sight in itself, for I knew it to be late afternoon although I could have believed it to be night if it was not for the edging of blue that could be seen encircling the magical black. It looked as if night had decided to come early to those only within the valley, and as a shiver crept into my flesh which I blamed upon the wind, I moved to join them.

  “BY THE GODS!” No wonder we had met little resistance whilst journeying in the north, they were all here! Never before could I have imagined such a sight.

  The might of Vorgannon’s assembled army; the united tribes of the northern domain and beyond, were gathered in a vast horde that stretched from one end of the plain to the other in the valley below, and I do not know if it was the shadows they stood in, or if it were the armour they wore, but the northerners matched in darkness with the skies above them.

  They looked small from here, but not so that you could not pick out individual figures from one man to the next. Concentrated mainly towards the western edge of the valley there were as many of them as blades of grass upon the field in which they stood; and fill it they did, until no space could be seen save that for a small section which bordered around the harassed capital, this no doubt was the firing range of the defending archers.

  The capital itself looked undamaged as far as I could tell. The great city stood like an island in a sea of despair and looked almost near enough to jump on to from the ledge which we now stood, but in reality, it was over a quarter of a mile away, out in the centre of the plain. So at least for now, Baram and Jaramel would have no quick reunions with their beloved city.