“You may need something more from the priests and physicians here,” the woman informed her as she continued about her business. Saeunn barely nodded her consent before she finally succumbed to exhaustion.
Chapter 2
The heavy boots of Garius Forge trampled both soil and grass underfoot as he approached the gates of Oakhaven. His many trinkets and religious icons dangled from his blood-red plate armor which was decorated with many symbols, commendations and the like, cementing his loyalty to the pantheon of righteous gods in their many forms. Such was the way of the Inquisitor.
It was common knowledge throughout the realm as to which symbol belonged to which god, such as The Champion, The Dreamer, The Cherished One, and so on. These were all reflected clearly upon the man’s raiments.
The red of his armor extended from helmet to boots, but was slightly broken up by the accent of black in the form of a cloak on his back. His breastplate was not without definitive features either. The Inquisitors of the Faceless Knights wore a stylized white skull placed directly on the left-side, just around where the heart would be. It was a major contrast to the blood-red of his armor and an unmistakable icon.
The guards seemed to at least recognize that he was a representative of an important establishment as they neared the gate.
“Can I help you?” asked a watchman in a firm but respectful voice.
Garius was a full head taller than the guard, and his overall presentation clearly conveyed him as a commanding presence.
“We are here at the behest of the High Council of Oakhaven,” Garius replied in a deep, gravelly and imposing voice that seemed to cause the guard to question who exactly was the authority here. The sentry swallowed hard and averted looking into the shadows of Garius’s helm immediately after the Inquisitor spoke.
Garius wore a protective face-plated helmet, which had thin eye slits and a vertical slot running down the center. It concealed his eyes and face for the most part in shadow, the only facial feature that could be distinguished was the raven-black, long, braided beard that stopped just below his chest.
He slowly removed his helm, revealing a pair of deep-set brown eyes and a cleanly shaven head. He bore a faded scar above his left eye that seemed out of place on his otherwise pristine countenance.
“I carry documents here with the seal of Tiyarnon of the Oakhaven High Council, along with several other council members’ signatures if you would like to see them,” Garius continued. He placed his helmet under the crook of his arm, resting it there, as the guard nodded and accepted the documents.
They both knew it was not necessary for him to provide the documents in order to enter the city, but he figured it might be an easy way to gain a little more respect from the guards and anyone else who came into contact with them. News would certainly travel fast that the Inquisition was in town and Garius didn’t mind if people knew.
The guard inspected the papers for a moment and returned them to Garius with a nod and salute of respect. Just then, two robed figures emerged from the caravan to stand by the Inquisitor’s side. They wore similar regalia, indicating that they, too, were equals of his stature and deserving of similar respect.
“Here for the Days of Holy Enlightenment, too? It starts in but a few morns,” the first sentry asked, as a second watchman now inspected the documents. He nodded to Garius and handed them back.
“It is an honor to have the Faceless Knights of Order represented here in Oakhaven,” said the second guard as he saluted the three Inquisitorial representatives.
“Of course, we would not miss it,” Garius responded to the first guard’s question, keeping his tone level and his eyes on both of them.
Garius waited as the guards called for the gates to be opened. The large crank behind the massive outer wall ground loudly and eventually pulled the heavy iron gates open.
The three men strode into the city proper as the caravan departed into the dust behind them. Oakhaven was one of the few rebuilt and booming capitals in all of Wothlondia. Trade was fast becoming its main staple once more, providing a means for many to earn an honest living. The bustle of the townsfolk was contagious as representatives of each populace, social standing and class intermingled without judgment or discrimination. The patrols of heavily armed guards, renowned for their law-enforcing deeds, helped maintain that pacifistic attitude. The members of the Oakhaven Watch were widely respected for their prowess and their intense training.
A large, circular fountain stood in the center of the main courtyard where several walkways extended off in all directions, leading into each of the districts. Directly behind the statue in the distance, was the Hall of the High Council, with its magnificent architecture and façade proudly displayed.
The main courtyard beyond the Hall was teeming with traders and merchants, and packed with tents and tables. Makeshift stores and kiosks were set up to do business if merchants weren’t given a permanent place in the Trade District. These stalls often spilled out into other districts. This sort of thing was becoming customary in other cities too.
Garius’s bright red armor stood out among the drab tones of the common folk’s clothing. The Inquisitor and his two cohorts proceeded past the bartering businessmen and customers, drawing interested gazes and intent looks, accompanied often by finger pointing and hushed whispers. The three carried on unimpeded to their destination, ignoring the reactions they received.
As they climbed the steps toward the door of the Hall of the High Council, Garius’s two escorts dropped their hoods to reveal the leathered faces of older gentlemen, though they walked with a gait that would suggest otherwise. These men were sages—men filled with many centuries’ worth of information, devoting their lives to the pursuit of knowledge of all kinds, specifically in the fields of theology and demonic possession.
Garius knocked upon the heavy wooden door. A moment later, a servant’s voice asked, “What business have you with the High Council?”
Garius simply held up a document to the glass portal in the center of the door, which not-so-clearly displayed what was on the other side. It was very old and slightly distorted glass, somewhat thick in nature. After a moment of waiting, Garius finally spoke.
“Garius Forge and company, on behalf of the Faceless Knights of Order, here to see Tiyarnon.” The servant threw wide the door and embarrassingly responded, “Apologies, my lord! Do come in!” He stepped aside and gestured for the three men to enter.
As soon as they were inside, the sages on either side of Garius strode forward and were greeted by others dressed in similar garb that herded them off into a deeper section of the Hall.
Garius continued to wait until he was approached by a familiar man wearing the clear markings of The Shimmering One on his vestments. Those garments were accompanied by a large holy symbol dangling from his neck, also displaying the symbol of the sun-god. He was smiling and opening his arms in a welcoming manner.
“Welcome back to the Hall of the High Council, Garius!” the older gentleman exclaimed. “We are so very glad for the generous response of the Faceless Knights in this desperate time. We are all pleased that we may have your counsel in this issue.”
“You know you always have the support of the Faceless Knights and all of our resources at your disposal, Tiyarnon. Especially under the circumstances,” Garius proclaimed. “It is the reason we exist, after all.” He was clearly trying to ease the intensity of the situation, but happy to correspond with Tiyarnon after so many years of absence.
“You did right by calling us in,” Garius added firmly. “For if there is a possession of some kind….” His words drifted off in a manner suggesting treacherous evils were lurking about. “It is my understanding that you and a few others attempted to resolve the issue yourselves?”
“Aye,” Tiyarnon admitted, averting his eyes, clearly unwilling to discuss his apparent failure. “Suffice it to say that we experienced a few…insurmountable obstacles.”
Garius eyed him intently, wondering exa
ctly what Tiyarnon was implying. He studied the man he had known for decades and nodded. “It wouldn’t have anything to do with that fresh scar you have on your neck, would it?”
Tiyarnon walked over to him and suddenly placed his arm around his guest’s broad shoulder and started forward, walking step for step beside him.
“Another tale for another time!” Tiyarnon suggested, changing his demeanor to something more pleasant. “I would not have called you in if I didn’t need your aid.”
“Of that I am sure,” Garius replied evenly, allowing the priest his space and not pursuing the details out of both friendship and respect.
“Follow me, old friend. I have many resources for us to review in the main hall. There is much work to be done and only a few days in which to do it. But first, let us catch up!”
Elec saddled the giant eagle and ascended into the sky once more. The landscape below was truly awe-inspiring and it was as if he noticed it for the very first time. He had recently delivered news to the city of Safehold regarding the seemingly coordinated and uncharacteristic attacks of the goblinoids that had overthrown Chansuk. But, that was only the first of two stops Elec was instructed to make.
He was burdened by the sheer weight of his task; the content and the importance of the message he had to deliver were weighing heavily on his mind. The information was integral not only to his race, but to all the Races of Order, especially if what his kin suspected was true. For the elves believed that there was a malevolent, intelligent force guiding the goblinoids’ current behavior.
His mind drifted to the distant past, recalling the kindness of the orcs and trying to discern the motive for their behavioral change. As he did so, he could not help but give thought to Ashenclaw, the deadliest of all dragons. Records indicated that sixty-six years past, Ashenclaw, the queen of the scorching drakes, went rogue. And there was no real reason for that either. For the most part, the dragons all kept to themselves until that event unfolded.
The story of Ashenclaw was also used amongst his people as a lesson regarding both the dangers of unbridled power and the necessity of always being prepared for war. It was still unknown as to why she attacked, and what exactly had been responsible for the disappearance of the dragons.
Elec had much time to think during his flight and his thoughts covered several topics, including the supposed argument about the hibernation versus extinction theories with regard to the dragons. He also reflected on the differences between his own people, the self-proclaimed high elves, and the more warrior-like forest elves.
The high elves were, after all, one of the few races that had mastered the arcane arts. They showed certain aptitudes toward tapping into the strange powers of that unknown and mysterious plane.
Other races wield the arcane powers, too. The djinn were a close second to the high elves, small though they were in number. But they specialized in harnessing the powers of the elemental planes, bending air, fire, water and the soil itself to their will. Most races, however, seemed to have certain clumsiness when it came to understanding the arcane, as did Elec himself.
Though he had a real incompetence when it came to the mystic arts, he did have one true artistic mastery: alchemical salves and elixirs. He was currently working on an improvement to one of his strains, and he considered the many materials he would need to complete his latest experiment. This subject seemed to consume much of his overall flight time. He often reconsidered recipes and theorized about new concoctions, experimenting on himself to test them. Alchemy was the art Elec obsessed about—not magic.
Elec had accepted the role of messenger offered him by his Uncle for two reasons—it allowed him to escape his father’s scrutiny and it gave him the ability to observe the other races.
Elec had not met many other races in person, except for the few that visited his people. His high elven kin lived on the remote isle of Acillia and kept mostly to themselves, except for some minor trading and other political ventures that required input from outside. They carried out these activities while focusing on mastery of the mystic arts, as well as the training of exotic steeds, such as the giant eagles of which Elec was accustomed.
His mother felt Elec’s pain over his failures. Often, his uncle—his mother’s brother—would continue to encourage him in whatever path he chose, which was why Elec so adored his Uncle Faorath. But alas, he was not the master of the arts his brother and sister were and it ate at him sometimes. That bothered him more than a little, but his talents lay elsewhere, he admitted.
He was not exactly a well-trained warrior, but he did know how to handle himself if forced to defend himself. He was also interested in trinkets and gadgets. He was constantly tinkering wherever he could in the art of constructing and rebuilding mechanisms and gadgets, and anything else that required the use of his nimble fingers and cunning mind. He also very much enjoyed the shadows and felt at home within them.
His father of course, disapproved of this undistinguished path which took his focus from sorcery and turned it elsewhere. He habitually let Elec know this, often comparing him to a forest elf instead of the high elf that he was.
The wings of Adok suddenly caught an air pocket in the breeze, dragging Elec’s mind from the recurring defamations of his father and back to the present. He peered out over a ridge and realized he was nearing his second and final destination—Oakhaven.
“I noticed some rare herbs and flowers at the base of that hill we passed, Adok. I’d like to go back and take a look,” he said smiling as if the giant eagle understood what he was saying. He descended, guiding Adok in the direction of the plants and immersing himself in thoughts of his alchemical system.
Chapter 3
The bustle of the crowd in Oakhaven was a familiar sight to Rose Thorne, as she nimbly strode from stall to stall, admiring and handling the merchandise as it pleased her. The Trade District was swarming this eve, adding to her blissful state of mind. Oakhaven was one of the biggest trading towns in the entire realm and its popularity was growing. That was good for business.
Several merchants eyed the woman carefully, suspecting what she was, but never mouthing the accusation. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway; she could take what she wanted, when she wanted, and no one would be the wiser. She was one of the best.
The vendors knew that there was thievery in the works constantly. But most of the larceny was discouraged by the sheer volume of sentries who constantly patrolled the Trade District, especially at dusk and beyond. And that time of day was coming, judging by the distinct chiming of the bells in the distance.
She could not help but admire the work of the Timekeepers’ and Lamplighters’ Guild, especially Brogan. He’d perfected a certain symmetry here in Oakhaven after many years of experimentation regarding the passing of day to night, and vice versa. The tolling of those bells marked the passing of time in two-hour intervals. And Brogan was the master craftsman and tinkerer who’d put his own stamp on the keeping of time throughout each day.
Yes, Oakhaven is a very fine town, indeed! Rose thought. And full of wealthy merchants ripe for the picking!
There were many guilds in Oakhaven and there were distinct advantages in belonging to any of them. Rose belonged to the Thieves’ Guild, which was never acknowledged publicly as an organization, but the folks in Oakhaven knew it existed. No one ever dared speak of it in public, though. Bad things often happened when someone did.
Rose felt smug in the knowledge that the merchants suspected who she was and yet could do nothing about it. The twilight was approaching and still many merchants continued pushing their wares, staying put, as was their right. Others, the smart ones anyway, folded up their tents and tables and headed home, or to a tavern to spend their earnings.
She weaved in and out of traffic for the next few tollings of the timekeeper’s bells; she pilfered anything she could amongst the more wealthy traders and merchants, fitting the various treasures into her many hidden pockets. The items ranged from jewelry to gems to trinkets, as
well as actual coin. The amazing thing was that she could do it with such ease! The most efficient of her peers would often marvel at her prowess. And Rose was landing a good score this evening.
She was pushing her luck, however, and got careless, which she sometimes did if she had had a few drinks beforehand. Rose did enjoy her wine. One of the merchants at a jewelry stand gave her a look like he’s spotted her taking something. Doubt crept across his face, though, as Rose was now somehow several kiosks away.
The vendor shrugged, rubbed his eyes and peered at Rose once more. He wrinkled his face at her as she flashed him a grin from beneath the cowl she wore on her head.
”Time to pack up the stand for the day,” she heard him mumble to himself, certain now that his fatigue was the culprit for his mistake.
Someone bumped hard into Rose just then. She turned to see a man with a hood tightly drawn over his head that barely hid an eye patch on his scarred face. Another man, wearing a hat pulled low around a crop of auburn hair, stood beside him. They looked none too pleased. The first man flashed a hand signal to her and they walked off away from the crowd, spaced well enough as to not draw attention to themselves.
The second man spoke quickly and whispered, “You must be much more careful out here, Rose. If you were to be caught, it would look very bad for us all…and the master would not be pleased,” he finished with a wave of his hand.
“You are finished here…unless you have some sort of death wish,” threatened the man wearing the eye patch.
“Take it easy, Aidan,” Rose calmly and softly mocked. “I’ll bet you and Zeke will be sure to inform him of everything, eh?”
The Beginnings Omnibus: Beginnings 1, 2, 3 & Legend of Ashenclaw novella (Realm of Ashenclaw Beginnings Saga) Page 21