“That can’t be right. The late king valued knowledge, he made sure libraries throughout the towns and cities have books that could be used and read by the masses,” Ferrier disagreed.
“Ah, if you ever found out what’s written in the books I hold, you might want to burn them,” Torentyia said to him with a ridiculous smile. “Here it is,” he said then approached the queen.
Tamiron walked closely to the cart and picked a random book as he listened to the recordsmaster.
“The tomb that the Prince investigated in the Agun’Der mountains is none other than the secret tomb of the Red Prince, his majesty, the Emperor of the Trodonar Empire, Lord Arvales — well he was technically a prince back then. He was not fully crowned, but since the death of their father there wasn’t any time to do the coronation, and because of the war that raged between the Trodonars and the Trasidars,” Torentyia said.
“Wait, hold on. You are going too fast, I heard his body was greatly wounded and bludgeoned by my father and that his body was thrown in the sea?” Tamara seemed to disagree with her former teacher and was in complete disbelief of the things she was hearing.
“That is what the late king precisely wanted you to think and wanted me to teach you!” Torentyia said with glee. “Now you see why these books I brought should be burnt. The books I brought here contradicts what the general public was made to believe!” then the recordsmaster laughed as if he hit a gold mine.
“These books that you are talking about were written by you,” Moselei said in disbelief.
“Again, as ordered by the late king,” Torentyia reiterated.
“I order you now, as the Prince, to waive all of the late king’s orders with regards to these books,” he suddenly said as Torentyia looked pale at the sight of him.
“As you wish,” the recordsmaster stuttered. “If I may add, you looked like the Red Prince of Old,”
He hid his surprised emotion and just walked to the books.
“Going back to the original reason why I am here — and the fact that the Prince ordered me to waive the late king’s orders — that tomb that was hidden for a long time, was built under the orders of the late king himself,” the recordsmaster said as he pointed at a particular page of the book he held and then gave it to the queen, who was clearly stunned by what they are just finding out.
“Why did he order it built?” he suddenly asked. Torentyia then turned to him and hesitantly answered.
“You see, it is common courtesy for fallen lords to be buried in their own tombs, your Highness,” Torentyia answered.
“But why hide it?” he asked again.
“I am sorry, your Grace. But that I cannot answer,” Torentyia said as he lowered his head.
“I command you, Recordsmaster,” Tamiron said as he approached him slowly.
“Tamiron,” Tamara called out to him. He looked at her and she shook her head. He backed away and looked again at the books and saw a familiar crest.
“What is this? I saw this in the tomb,” he asked again the recordsmaster. He handed him the book and he took a look at it.
“Ah, the great horns. The Trasidians are by far the strongest race in the entire continent of Arumar. But there were those that were stronger – the Trodonars,” the recordsmaster explained.
“How so? They were just like us,” Moselei said.
“Yes, you are technically correct. But the reason they were stronger was because of their proximity to the Shardon continent. They grew up in harsh lands. They were molded by their surroundings. A desert — well, savannah — to the west and the dead and befouled lands of Xerxecia to the east. All information is based on my own research all these years from the survivors of the Trodonars that have been assimilated in our empire. But let us be honest here, I don’t need my own research to prove they are stronger, because what more could they do?” Torentyia explained as Moselei agreed and so did the others, including the Queen.
“I have much more to learn from you, Recordsmaster,” Tamara said as though an appreciation and compliment.
“As I thought her majesty the Queen, the Trodonars fashioned and raised themselves to be the strongest race in the entire continent. A matching symbol of that was indeed needed hence a much larger, leaner horns of power was fashioned, based of course, on the symbol of the Animos God Freinus.”
“Now you get it why the Trasidar Empire has four horns, my Prince?” Torentyia asked him and he just looked at him with the realization.
“The Trodonar insignia in the tomb is the same insignia that was hiding within the Trasidar insignia all this time. It is basic proof that it is the tomb of Lord Arvales himself,” Torentyia said as he clasped his hands together again. “If people were to find out, especially Malatur’Aren, it will not look good for the rest of us, or them for that matter,” he explained.
Just like her sister, he was speechless.
“So all this time, the Trasidar insignia with four horns was not a symbol of unity of all the thirteen kingdoms under the empire, but of two empires in one. The Trasidars and the Trodonars, hence the four horns,” he said as he realized all of this.
“No, it is indeed a symbol of unity, my Prince. The colors that we had in the insignia are the colors of all the thirteen smaller kingdoms that make up the empire. Huertian, Go’Renhor, Remolussium, Geronimad, La’canilenoir, Francineil, Sein’miguelisia, and Rosalessium, their colors and insignias well built within Barceneim’s own insignia as the head of the former Trasidar Kingdoms, the Trasidar United Kingdoms against the threat of the east and that was the Trodonar Empire made up of Malatur’Aren, Pinedran, Gregoridon, Napareim, and the eastern most portion of the Huertian region. The largest horns, after the old war, when King Madarick finally united the empire and crushed the Trodonars, he accepted the rebel kingdoms and merged them, uniting them under one banner,” then Torentyia pointed at the map painted on the ceiling of and then the insignia on the floors and banners. “Do you see now the significance of Lord Arvales’ tomb? The Trodonars weren’t really defeated, no! They were accepted into the Trasidar territory upon the Lord’s death,” the recordsmaster stunned everyone in the room.
“The Empire wasn’t built in a day. It was a very long process made short by your father, as it ended with the incorporation of the trodonarian territories. They are the biggest chunk of the Empire, my liege. Until today, your father made good of his promise to never again let those new territories be threatened. They were to be treated equal. Much frowned upon by some of the former lords, and Menoich, of course. Your father was a herald of peace and I was very proud to work with him,” the recordsmaster added.
It all made sense now. The significance of the raid that had happened.
“What you said. They are not in the books in the Imperial Library or school,” he pointed as the recordsmaster grinned, “This kind of information would be too dangerous for sympathizers. It could well be a spark. It might even spark the fires of civil war,” he realized.
“An Empire at war with itself will crumble, my Prince.” The recordsmaster said.
This is bad. A war amongst us would bring the continent in ruins. If these bandits were attacking tombs across all the kingdoms, this could not just be a one-man effort. Discord amongst his people, and it all started because of him. If this bandit raided this tomb, then the other tombs were of great importance as well.
They were symbols, it dawned to him. They weren’t just mere parts of history. They were leaders of old fires that was long extinguished.
“So his body or whatever the remains of it is a rallying point,” he uttered and he got everyone’s attention. He then looked at all of them. “I view this as an act of rebellion, but not just on our empire but all of Unibeltrasia,” he explained.
“Now hold on just a minute. What are we going to do with this information? We can’t just base everything on this information and then call it a rebellion! We aren’t even sure if this is that. We need to carefully consider this information but we can’t outright call i
t as a rebellion. The mere idea is inconceivable as of the moment,” Tolous frantically said. “Should we warn the other kings and queens?” he added.
“We can’t start a panic now. And are we even sure that this madman who raided our tomb is planning the same thing for the rest?” Ferrier said.
“Enough for now. We will keep this information here with us,” Tamara said as she stood.
“But my Queen, if the recordsmaster’s statement is true—”
“Ah but it is indeed, dear councilor,” Torentyia cut Moselei off.
“We will discuss this matter on a different day. For now, we will rest. Too much information is not a good foundation to decide upon what to do with it. The council are all dismissed,” Tamara said as she shunned the council. They stood up and bowed and immediately left the throne room, all but the Recordsmaster, The Queen, and Tamiron. As the doors shut tight, Tamara looked at her former teacher.
“I do believe you haven’t told us everything, Recordsmaster?” Tamara asked and both of them felt the change in demeanor of the Queen.
“There is much to know, my Queen,” Torentyia said.
“We will continue to discuss this privately,” Tamara said and signaled to the guards.
“You will be given the tower wing of the palace for now. Your books will be taken there with you and you will be taken care of like a lord,” she said and Torentyia wasn’t able to reply, but to bow.
The recordsmaster and his books were already being taken out when he called out to them, “Wait!”
The guards stopped and Torentyia looked to him, “I have one last question. Lord Arvales’ headstone, where his name was carved, there was no last name. You do know why, Torentyia?” he asked him but the recordsmaster only smiled.
“I’m afraid I took the oath of Lortz’Agram with your father, your Grace. I simply cannot break such an oath for death would await me,” Torentyia said as he placed both his frail hands to his shoulders. “It is for the good of the both of you. If people knew his last name, it will be the hammer that will break our empire’s fragile unity,” he whispered to him.
He was silenced by this as they finally walked away and left the room.
He heard his sister release a huge sigh and walked back towards the throne.
“So, brother. What do you think of all of this?” Tamara asked as she returned on the throne. But he did not know either. He walked towards the windows silently.
“Information is dangerous in the wrong hands. Can you trust the guards that were here?” he asked her.
“Well they were phalanx soldiers. I still think they are loyal to you,” Tamara said.
“They are the extension of the old me. Much to which we need most,” he lectured his sister.
“Again, stop being so hard on yourself. The deed has been done. We all know you were under of control,” Tamara acquitted him.
“But it was still me, Tamara. The people will remember that it was me,” he objected. He refused to let it go. He could not bear the thought that he could never be forgiven for the things he had done — he was made to do, especially to the boy.
“How is the boy?” he suddenly asked.
Confused, Tamara asked, “Who? Matthos?” as she walked to his side.
He refused to look at her and only to the city outside. “Why do you ask?” Tamara said.
“I killed his parents.”
Tamara was silent. Understandably.
“I remember the faces when I killed all of those I have killed. But I will never forget the face of his father and his mother as they died because of me,” he said as he looked at his iron hands.
Tamara could only comfort him and embrace him.
“I can feel the resentment, the anger from him towards me. And he has no fault for feeling as such. At such a young age, as I showed him the realities of this world that no child should ever bare witness.”
“I will find a way,” Tamara said.
“No, let the boy be. Let him deal with this on his own. If you force him to not hate me, he might resent you for it,” he explained to her then walked away.
“Where are you going?” Tamara asked.
“To the library. I need to at least find out more information about the Trodonar Empire,” he said as he left the throne room and headed to the courtyard.
He left the palace and walked into the stables. He was given a horse and rode off to the city below. As he rode down the cliff side down to the city, he could not help but wonder why the recordsmaster would not give up the last name of Lord Arvales. He was stuck with that thought and he was certain, will not leave his mind.
SEVIDON FINALLY ARRIVED at the Meskotav Council where he was greeted by some of the councilors, both Venis and Viris.
“Where is it?” he asked as he immediately dismounted from his horse.
“Right this way, General,” a councilor said as he was led towards where the body was.
“We have already cleaned up the site of the raid and we have already placed it under our own guard’s jurisdiction. We have already sent a letter to the Viris prince as well about this so that no friction may happen between our own guards,” the councilor explained as they finally stopped in front of a room.
He took a deep breath as the guards opened the room where the body was. He stood silently as the councilor and guards waited for him to enter.
The councilor was confused as to why they haven’t entered yet, “Is something the matter?” the councilor asked.
“Don’t you find that odd?” he suddenly asked the confused councilor, who did not know how to answer. “How long has the body been dead?”
“Several days now, General. Why?” the councilor confusedly asked.
“There’s no foul smell?” he said and as the councilor and the guard finally noticed it.
“That is strange,” the councilor said as they entered the room and he stood right beside the body that was laid on top of a table.
“Has anyone seen it?” he asked the councilor.
“To be honest General, none of us,” councilor said back.
He then pulled off the blanket from the head and there it revealed the damage that was done.
The lack of smell alone is one thing. This one was particularly unique but he still knew only one person capable of such abnormality on a corpse.
He recognized the damage. Only magic could have done this, Orderian magic to be precise. He walked around the body saw the residue left by the magic.
He took a small amount of it with his little finger and compared it to the body. Then he realized something that he remembered from the past.
It was indeed Orderian magic. The small residue was enough to say it, and it was a powerful one. Not all of the Orderian magisters were capable of such damage. Even compared to the Armedigors and the other beasts that the magisters came across, they did not leave such residue and devastation to their bodies.
He remembered the early days of the Shardon campaign where he was with Evangeline. She practically took on an entire Xerxecian battalion all by herself. He saw their dead bodies and there were traces.
“What are these? This is not their blood,” he said as he remembered that one afternoon.
“No, it is my magic’s physical left over,” Evangeline suddenly said as she hovered above, as she inspected the battlefield.
“How could that be?” he asked for he doesn’t really know that magic could do this.
“I’m powerful enough,” Evangeline replied to him.
He remembers that small talk they had well. He immediately covered the body as he quickly left the room, “Burn the body and make sure no one outside of the Meskotav Council will know of this,” he ordered the councilor.
“But, where are you going, General?” the councilor asked as he mounted his horse once again.
“I need to head to Eiventolf. Send word in advance to the Viris King that I am on my way,” then he immediately left for the capital, to which he never thought he would be setting foot again.
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End of chapter XIV
XV: Lost Knowledge
Sevidon made his way towards a city he never thought he would set foot again, the Viris capital of Eiventolf.
The city blended within the towering trees of the La’Sarien Forest. Blue light orbs within the forest brighten the city as night time shrouded the sky and with the great Luna shining above tithe magnificent gates of the forest city came into view with carvings of the great first and second elven king.
The inner part of the city welcomed him with a glorious fountain of the great third elven king. In the darker parts of the city, wooden lamps and some essercs freely floated in the air. Rope bridges connected the entire city from end to end. Shops and houses were carved within the trees. A small stream ran straight in the heart of the city with a bridge over it.
His horse trotted toward the Eiventolf Palace which was built around a large tree that was twice as high as the roofing trees of the lowlands. The palace was in the middle of the forest city with more blue essercs roaming within the tree palace. The guards greeted him with a salute as he entered the premises.
He dismounted from his stallion as another guard took the reins from him and the creaky doors of the ancient palace opened. The statues of past kings and the great fresco across them welcomed Sevidon within. The painting depicted the entire history of Arumar and the lives of the first elves.
He finally reached the inner throne room where two royal guards uncrossed their spears and made way for their guest. He entered the enormous room where the base of the tree could be seen. The leaf-littered room was showered with moonlight as a light breeze blew the banners of the king. The elves flew freely from the walls and the mini garden inside it.
Sevidon stopped in the middle of a large emblem painted on the floor. He turned around and found the Viris king approach his side. The king looked the same as he did years ago. The son and his father looked at each other, motionless. The Viris king then pulled a smile, which Sevidon did not give in return. Instead, Sevidon knelt on the floor to show the sliver of respect he still had for his father.
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